#this goes to bills mafia too

[jrueships]

we do this thing every like half year where we say 'the clippers are so cool now!! we're deadly! we're gonna win! watch out' why don't we shut the fuck up. why don't we be quiet. why don't we say nothing . it's less embarrassing that way

[str4ngr]

polished [ simon 'ghost' riley ]

read too many mafia simon fics [ more specifically @cordeliawhohung. omg j the thought of her fics gets me all bothered.] ANWAYS. bodyguard/underdog fic of him... ugh, got me drooling. i can't help but ramble about him like this.

cw: suggestive, public teasing/mentions of public sex, some fluff, mafia au, established relationship, mostly just headcannons/rambling, no real plot, obsessive-ish simon, fem! reader.

simon "takes care of what belongs to him" riley who doesn't let you even see the bill of the restaurant he takes you to. only taking you to restaurants that have his card at registration, that don't ever print and only e-mail receipts.

who acts like all hell will break loose if you even try to pull out your wallet, immediately wrapping his large hand around yours, smiling as his gruff voice mumbles to the waitress, or cashier, or bartender, or whoever else would be cashing you out. even when you pout and whine, he chuckled, his lips curving into a smile and he pulls his mask just over them, to shush you with a kiss.

simon riley who never lets you slip away from his touch, smiling as he lets you sit on his meaty thigh, your back pressed against his broad shoulders as you sit in the private room with some... friends. you knew otherwise, with the way the women changed every hour, but you didn't. you stayed, the hand splayed around your waist unmoving as his masked face trails its lips down your spine, kissing the nape of you neck through the fabric.

who makes sure to schedule every appointment for his girl. your nails, your brows, you spa, anything else you want, need, desire. he'll do it, he'll wash more money, wake a little earlier, blaming it on a morning run, bidding you goodbye with a kiss on your forehead, closing your bedroom door to load his gun. but it didn't matter, not when he got to see your cute little face warm up and smile, thanking him in that sweet coo as you tugged gently at his collar; a kiss as a thank you.

simon riley who makes sure you never, ever, ever are alone, unsafe, without him. he goes everywhere with you, the grocery store, he loiters at your little diner as your best tipping customer, sitting beside you as you get your nails done. and even when you think it's just you and your girlfriends, giggling and drinking tea from cute china cups, he's had some snake through the security cameras for him to watch. to keep you safe.

who never lets you take charge, who makes sure he can fulfill all of your desires. learns all your reactions, how the way his mask rustles against your cheek makes you blush as he whispers into your ears. how you always bat your eyelashes when you get needy. how you can barely last an hour with the way his rough fingers tap at your waist in the private club, watching the other couples flirt. how you let him tease you on his lap, as if no one else could see the way his fingers snuck under your skirt. how you always forget your own name when you feel the knot tightening in your belly, so impatient as he forced you to wait until you were in your own bed to satisfy you.

simon riley that learned how to cook your favorite breakfast so every morning after. bringing you tea, a plate of food, and a kiss to bed as you woke up, marked up and sore. you happily tucked you into his chest as he held a silver spoon to your lips.

who loves you dearly, the apple of his eyes, the sun to his moon, his woman.

-ˋ��✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

i didn't mean to make it this long... hehe. if you recognize the car in the banner... i fucking love you. [pls buy me one.] edit: i literally forgot to fix the tag before i posted imma cry.

directory

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Do you know who his wife is?

Vladimir Makarov × Fem wife reader + family

You and Vladimir have been trying to give them the most normal life possible but it's difficult to not see what you and him are, you weren't expecting your Three babies learning and taking all this knowledge to practice in their own world.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to! Grammatical and spelling errors, mentions of violence, weapons, blood.

Credits of this image goes to ElijahCielle

You have a very unusual family, you're the daughter of the Russian Mafia married to the most dangerous man in the country, you have three beautiful children.

Elizaveta/ Liza (10 years old) and your twins, Lev and Yerik (15 years old). Vladimir Makarov was a proud father, his little princess was more like a little wolf and his sons, the young boys who would inherit all he had, Makarov was more than proud.

The Three kids have seen unusual things in their little family. They have seen their grandparents making business, using weapons, they have seen their father making plans, organizing people, they also have seen you in charge of eliminating enemies of your husband and parents.

Of course, you and Vladimir have been trying to give them the most normal life possible but it's difficult to not see what you and him are, you weren't expecting your Three babies learning and taking all this knowledge to practice in their own world.

It's Another normal Friday, you're cleaning your hands, meanwhile the man in front of you is bleeding and pleading for his life.

«Please, please I will pay every cent of my debt with your parents, please»

- Oh you will, don't worry darling, you will pay but we will also close our business with you losing your ability to breath.

«NO! NO PLEASE! I BEG YOU, PLEASE!»

He's begging but then, your phone rings over and over, you check quickly, your kid's school.

- Someone helps me to keep this guy quiet! I have to attend this call!

And as quickly as you ask for help, one of your men takes your place and puts a sock in the mouth of your victim.

- Thanks, Hello?

«Hello? I'm looking for Y/N. We're calling because we have a little problem with her kids»

- Oh, yes it's me, are they alright?

«Yes, they're fine, it's a discipline problem, we were expecting you to come to talk with the principal and their teachers so we can discuss and fix this little problem»

You sighed and responded with a quick 'yes', you went back to finish your job and a few hours later, you're at school, wondering what they did, remembering all those times you and your husband told them to not do anything wrong.

Once you're inside walking through the corridors, you finally find your three kids.

- What we have here? What trouble you're into, huh?

Liza jumps on you kissing your cheek, while your other two are in the most chill mood, as if nothing was wrong. You were expecting something really bad as a broken bones or someone in the hospital.

Suddenly a teacher appears in the door. All of you stand and go inside the office, the teachers and the principal are waiting for you to talk, they sent the kids to wait outside.

- Well, what's wrong?, their father is not available to come but I'm here and I'll discuss all this with him later...

«first of all, we have to say, the three of them are brilliant» «very smart kids» «too smart for their own good»

- Okay, so what's the problem? Did they hurt somebody? I will pay the hospital bill if it's necessary.

All the group exchange looks between them, how do you have all these expectations of your children?. One of them breaks the silence and continues talking.

«no, no, the problem is... Okay, Liza is a nice girl, but she indeed has some trouble with other classmates, she hit a boy today because he was making comments about her, she hit the boy over and over and this is not the first time she has a fight»

You wanted to act horrified but you couldn't be more proud, you remembered her playing with her father, he showed him to fight, defend herself, you're happy she learned well and fast.

- Oh, that's terrible, is the kid alright? Liza has an explosive temperament, we already talk about it with her.

«Yes, he will not be at school until next Wednesday...»

' that's what he deserved ' you thought.

«...on the other hand, Lev and Yerik. They have a different story. They have a little trafficking line of candies, cigarettes and exam answers, this is too serious, they have students working for them, receiving small commissions for every sale they do...»

More proud and you would explode, it was a nice feeling, to know your kids are smart, strong and... Wait, no, it suppose you have to act concerned and worried.

«We're worried about how much influence they have over the students» «your children are leaders by nature and that's good, but we're really worried about it, they feel free to break and make their own rules, this causes us a lot of trouble...» «We just ask for some discipline, they have to understand there are rules and a system they have to follow...»

You keep discussing any solution, at the end you inform them that you and your husband will consider a new school where your children can explode these abilities, since, in your opinion, they're not doing nothing wrong, so for the next school year they will be in a new college.

On the way back home, you talk with your kids about what happened and how proud you were about them and some advice to be more discreet. A quick stop in the supermarket, everybody adding and adding more and more stuff to the cart, you're not paying much attention, you're on the phone when you sense something is wrong. You start to look around, noticing the place is almost empty, there's some workers but the people in general are more men than women, also many of them are big and muscular, suddenly your mother instinct tells you this is something you have to be worried about.

You walk quickly to pay for all the groceries, your children are behind you talking about teenagers stuff, your daughter suddenly holds your hand and squeezes it, talking almost in a whisper.

- Mom, there's a man with a skull mask outside.

You nod in silence, caressing her hair to indicate everything's under control. You take your phone and text your husband «dinner will not be ready on time».

You ask your two boys to carry the bags, while you and your daughter walk to open the car they're putting everything inside when a man approaches, your boys walk at your side, you're not scared, just worried because you're not alone, is your family with you and you have to protect them at any cost.

- Guys, get in the car.

- But mom...

Your twins say with one voice while your daughter instantly obeys.

- Get in the fuckin' car right now.

Once the three are inside you can see the other two men walking to you.

- Can I help you, gentlemen?

The one with a mask seems stronger than the rest of them, so you think you have to start with him, you can't see his face but something in your eyes says he's making his own analysis of the situation.

- We're looking for Vladimir Makarov, someone gave us some clues about him and now we're here. what connection do you have with him?

You sigh loudly, thank god is not another enemy of your family or your husband would get crazy again, this time he will have to give you a huge present to win your pardon.

- Who's your informant? Someone not so smart I suppose.

- Answer the question.

- Fine... Makarov is my husband.

These strangers are quiet as a grave, they all look surprised and exchange quick looks between them. One of them talks before anyone else.

- Do you know who your husband is?

This question paints a big smile on your face, of course you know who your husband is and you couldn't be more proud of him.

- I do. But...

In less than a second you hit the first man with a quick kick to the chest, he collides against another car not so far from yours.

- Do you know who his wife is?

More men appear out of nowhere as cockroaches, everybody starts to run to attack you.

One receives a knee strike, another a liver shot, back leg sweep, nose strike and more. You're a woman who can handle body to body combat really well but is exhausting to do it alone.

As if your kids could read your mind or feel your exhaustion, the door of your car opens, your pretty Liza flings the gun you have saved in the car glove box you catches it and instantly starts to shoot.

While Lev appears behind you knocking down another man, Yerik starts the car, some more shoots to create distraction and now everybody's inside the car.

- Yerik, drive as fast as possible, Liza, put your belt and tell your dad we'll see him at the safe house. Lev, take the gun under the passenger seat, today you will show me how good you are shooting.

Once again, with one voice your Three children simply answer with a loud «Yes, mom». A police chase, what a moment to spend some familiar time.

You feel very blessed to have a husband who always has a plan and is always prepared for any scenario, your car is very well armored, the tires, the glasses, every centimeter of your car is safe and hard to batter down.

Yerik is a good driver he loves the speed, so for him this is an easy task, Liza has an amazing sense of direction, she knows her city as the palm of her hand so she indicates her brother where to go, giving advice about the streets that will be more empty and shortcuts, meanwhile you and Lev are at each side of the car, shooting to the cars that are following you, Lev is smart and fast, he made one of the cars crash by shooting directly to the front tires, both are celebrating when a bullet passes close enough to your arm and hurts you.

- Ahhh, fuckin' bastards!

The three lose their focus to look at your wound.

- Focus guys! Don't look at me, I'm fine, we're close to the Forest, Yerik be careful now.

-Wait... Are we going to...?

- Yes, we can't let them follow us to the safe house! Liza, honey be ready, we'll have to jump from the car. Lev, stop shooting, get ready...

Before you can finish the sentence a helicopter appears flying over your car, shooting to the rest of enemies that are behind you. Of course it is your husband, He wouldn't miss a good chase and he wouldn't leave his family without protection.

Yerik is still driving but unsure of what to do, jump or not jump?, your phone rings, Liza answers and it's your husband's voice.

- Keep driving, there's a barricade and some men are ready to attack the rest of them, you'll have 3 minutes to leave the car and board the helicopter, we can't land so you'll have to jump and climb the ropes, alright?

- I'll have your head as soon as we're in that god-damned helicopter, Vlad!

- I love you too my love.

He laughs mockingly and the call ends, after some minutes driving, you finally see the barricade and your husband's men. It's quick, you don't even know how you arrive at the helicopter, perhaps you were too focused on not letting someone hurt your kids, they're safe now.

As soon as you're safe at home, everybody acts like nothing happened, you went directly to the kitchen to see what you can cook since all your groceries stayed In the car, your kids went to their rooms to do homework and prepare everything for the next day, while your husband went to his office to make some calls.

At dinner, everybody looks tired, eating in silence until you receive a call from one of your men.

«What did you find out? (...) Was him? How do you know? (...) That fuckin' rat... Okay, you know what? Burn everything (...) YES!, I don't want nothing but the ashes of his properties, and I don't want survivors alright? No Mercy, he thought he could play with me and put my family at risk, no? Now make them pay the consequences (...) Fine, I'll go as soon as I can, before burning those places, take their money (...) Uhhh no, Vlad will stay with the kids, see you.»

You continue eating while your whole family has their eyes on you, it's your husband who finally breaks the silence.

- So, What did they find?

He says without any emotion, focused on his meal, your drinking your cup of wine and just like him, as if what you found out wasn't so important talk.

- The guy I told you I would... (You paused, trying to find a different word to not say you killed someone) Visit. He was working with an army special force, they offered him protection in exchange for information about us.

- I never liked that guy he was always in those twisted business, I suppose you already punished him.

- I did, but I still have something to do, you will have to stay tonight with the kids, I don't know how much time it will take us to clean it all.

He smiles and blinks an eye to your kids who are ready looking at him with big smiles. They already know what that means, no school the next day, waking up late with the smell of a sweet special breakfast made by their father, a day full of rewards and time in family, because after all, your children are the most important thing for Makarov, he can be a cold man outside and ruling and controlling as much as he wants, but at home he's totally the opposite, he's a cool dad.

Before you leave, he kisses you deeply and with that you know your kids will not be the only ones who will receive a reward for what they did today.

Makarov will fill you with an expensive present, and some other things that only you and him can enjoy in private.

- Don't take too long, or you won't have your present.

You smile at him while his arms are around your waist, kissing him again, with your hands around his neck you nod and whisper a sweet and soft «Okay, love».

- You did a great job today, my love.

- I know, but it wasn't only my job, your children played their part very well too. I think Liza is ready to receive her present.

- I think that too, I received my first gun at her age, and after what happened today... it's fair.

- Good, I gotta go, but wait for me, we will give it to her together, I wanna see her face!

Both kiss again and you leave to finish your job. Many people would say you and Vladimir are crazy and irresponsible for having a family even knowing you two have this dangerous life.

«Breaking news! Yesterday, a police chase took place at the city center supermarket, the suspect's identity is still unknown, the persecution ended close to the Forest, 45 bodies were found. Meanwhile, Last night a series of fires started around the town, Police station wonders if both events are related»

But you and him knew the risks, y'all know very well you would be alright, you and him are a powerful couple and with today's drama, you show how well prepared both are and how far you will go if someone dares to touch your family.

[fcthots]

Please 🙏 give us more thoughts on the friends to lovers AU cause that's literally the one I have too.

-🌊

I’m assuming you mean my friend to ememies to lovers au. Tbh it’s super self indulgent but I’ll hit the high points for you. Heads up: it’s fem reader bc it came from my notes app as a personal au.

ANYWAY ONE THOUSAND FOLLOWERS WOOOOO

Basically reader hangs around Jason’s neighborhood through childhood

Immediately best friends

Jason sees you about twice a week for many many years

Side plot of Jason finding a new mafia in Gotham

One day Jason shows up unannounced to your house bc you do it to him all the time since he moved and he really needs to talk to you (haven’t decided what the emergency is yet)

You aren’t in your room and something looks wrong

He crawls in through the window and hears people yelling and arguing

He goes Robin mode and starts trying to figure out what happened

He follows the metaphorical tracks into the wall

Secret door

He spies and realizes your family is the mafia family he has had his eyes on

And you’re the topic of conversation

There’s an emergency with one of the fronts they have so the topic switches and they leave

Jason confronts you a week later after being weird and distant

He asks what they were talking about

You explain that you either have to join in on your family’s crimes or you’re going to have to live on the streets. They don’t want you working in the family bc you’re a woman.

(There’s a scrapped version where your family demands you to kill someone’s to pledge your loyalty and when Jason dies, you say you killed him)

He tells you he’ll take care of you. He’ll talk to Bruce. You can figure it out. You will figure it out, together. He reveals himself as Robin. There is a light at the end of the tunnel for you.

Then Jason dies

You find out from the news after you don’t see him for two weeks

You decide, fuck it. Nothing waiting for you outside of mafia life

Your family doesn’t want want u working for them. AND you started later than everyone else. Double whammy

Your family doesn’t trust you

You work twice as hard. You are determined to work your way up. You will survive

They give you low level assignments

You start doing side assign,ents that they don’t ask you to. You get them intel they didn’t know was there to get. Intel they didn’t know they needed

You start working your way up a twinge over the years

They send you in undercover as a stripper. Your job is to see if a rival gang comes in. The man you’re looking for has a deal there today.

The man is known as the Red Hood.

You don’t know Red Hood’s identity but he’s big in the game. A known killer. But a protector of women and the innocent. Your family HATES him.

The Red Hold walks in as well as his client

You switch places with someone and dance colder to their table sk you can hear their conversation

The Red Hood looks at you and freezes

In his head, he’s thinking you left the mafia, but because he died, no one was there to support you so you turned to stripping

He’s also thinking he missed you

You tell him that if he’s gonna stare at you like that, he better fork up some dollar bills

He tells his "client" to hold on for a moment

He walks up to you, voice modulator on and asks how much for a private dance

You make a joke about how he probably can't afford it

He says “I guarantee you I can”

Your "manager" walks over and says you have to take the money and do it, all in "subtle" wording

You’re nervous but agree

You lead him to his private room

And before you can try to make him horny enough to interrogate him, you turn around and his mask is off

You see his face

Older, but Jason

Someone is supposed to come to the club in 5 minutes and kill the "client" was making a deal with.

You can't let them kill Jason.

"You have to leave. Right now."

"What?" He's confused.

"Fuck. I'm so glad you're alive, but you have to go."

He tries to ask if you chose to be a stripper or if you were out of options

You say "I'm not a stripper"

He's confused. Thinks you’re maybe a prostitute.

"My brother is coming in 3 minutes to kill whoever *Client* was making a deal with so that he would be forced to make a deal with-... with us."

"You didn't"

“Dont. Don't do that. You were dead, Jason. And even ignoring that fact, you're not exactly far from the profession either."

"No. No, but you didn't want this. Your family treats you like shit"

“Better than the streets would have treated me... 2 minutes, Jason you have to go. Fuck. I'm gonna get demoted for this.”

Jason says he has a plan

You say it's too dangerous; you’re not losing him again

"Do you trust me?”

“…I still trust you"

He walks out and cancels the deal

He walks back in and says *Client* has to make his merchandise half price now, and with your ‘private dance’, you made it happen

He kisses your cheek and walks out

Your brother walks in and asks where he is, ready to be angry

You tell him to make the deal now, it's half off and that you convinced the other guy to walk

This is great success

You’re even given the weekend off

Jason waits until you leave late at night with the other girls

They're used to him showing up sometimes and walking them to their cars. They don't bat an eye

But he wordlessly gets in your car. Gets in the drivers seat, and drives you to his place, where you spend the weekend.

He tries to convince you to stay. You say you can't.

Because you want to take over the whole joint some day

So you go back do what you do

If you and Jason ever intersect, you go to your apartment together.

You fuck

He leaves for patrol before you wake up

He fucks you so you fall asleep and he can leave without saying goodbye

You fight.

YouI say you should stop.

You love him. If you keep going you’ll never love anyone else. You’ll never move on.

The truth is: you already love him like that, but if you keep fucking him, you won't be able to leave and it'll put a target on both of your backs

You fuck one last time and then he leaves

(He becomes a bat around this time)

He’s your enemy now

And you’re rising the ranks

[ryeriy]

shout! | daniel ricciardo

-> summary: daniel goes to his first bills game with the reader

-> pairings: daniel ricciardo x bills fan (fem)!reader

-> request: Can I request that the reader and Danny are dating and she's a bills fan and takes him to a bills game bc he's also a fan??

-> a/n: as a bills fan, I literally love this idea and most definitely will do it! Also this is a shorter one but it's really cute or at least I think so. The second half is rushed and really bad because I did more detail into the first part 😭

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"Does this look good?" Y/n said, pulling the jersey over her head and her hoodie. Daniel looked at her and laughed at her struggle.

It's "off" season for Daniel, even though there's always off-track training to do. His last race was a few weeks ago and he was now enjoying his time with his girlfriend at a football game.

"It looks fine, honey."

He helped her pull the jersey over her head as she was struggling. It was a bit big on her but it kept her warm. Daniel had a wide smile on his face.

"You enjoy your surprise?"

"Is that even a question?"

She let out a laugh as she looked at him smiling. There was no doubt that he wasn't enjoying his time. Y/n and Daniel were at their first Buffalo Bills game together. Daniel was so excited when she surprised him with tickets. Now here they were, in a very crowded parking lot with thousands of strangers and people who call themselves the 'Bills Mafia'. Most of them were drinking alcohol, playing games, or simply just having fun.

It's very cold in the small town of New York. Both of them were bundled up with layers of clothing. Under both of their jerseys was a sweatshirt and additional shirts underneath. She adjusted the hat on his head and kissed him on the cheek. He softly smiled at her.

"You know, this was a great idea, I love you so much," Daniel smiled widely.

"And I love you so much," she replied. Seeing his smile she couldn't help but smile too.

After getting to experience pre-game tailgating with locals, they both decided to head into the stadium. It was beautiful weather, the sun was about to set and it was cold. Exactly how it should be in New York in November.

They navigated their way through the crowd swerving and dodging bumping into people trying to get to their seats.

"Wow..." they both said as they looked around the stadium and up into the sky. Y/n and Daniel were shocked at the moment.

Both of them pulled out their phones and took pictures of their surroundings and of each other too. Y/n recorded a video and panned the camera to Daniel, "You enjoying the surprise, Danny?"

She knew it was a dumb question but it was quite funny to see his wide smile looking at her camera. "Very much!" He exclaimed as he laughed himself.

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The game was 23-15 in the fourth quarter with five minutes remaining, the Bills were winning and the stadium was full of cheers and clapping. Daniel and Y/n were both screaming and laughing along with all of the thousands of people that were surrounding them. This whole experience felt like a fever dream to them.

It was visibly dark now and the only lighting was the bright lights above their heads. With the end nearing, it only started to get louder and louder.

Daniel and Y/n were next to each other yelling, clapping, screaming, and shouting for their team.

"Touchdown!!!!"

Those words were being projected onto the jumbo tron as the famous 'shout' song. The crowd filled with ayy ayy ayy. It was such a fun experience to be in right now. Neither of them would trade it for the world.

With 1 minute remaining, everyone started celebrating and cheering. Daniel turned towards y/n and gently grabbed her face, turning it towards him. He crashed his lips against hers and they kissed. A celebratory kiss.

"I love you so much for this, thank you," he said as he smiled at her.

"I love you too," she replied to him as she smiled.

The Bills won the game and everyone was happy. Y/n and Daniel were holding hands and cheering with the other thousands of people in the stadium. Neither of them will ever forget this experience.

[mehidktbh]

Strange Introduction

Pairing: Mafia!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and several of your co-workers decide to celebrate your whole five years of working for the company at a club. It started from harmless drinking to something else... Yet you're saved by a mysterious and handsome man, leaving you confused.

Warning: Swearing, drinking alcohol, reader is intoxicated and drunk by the end of the night. violence, unwanted touching and kissing, talk of guns and threats

A/N: This was my 3rd draft for this first chapter, which means why did it take so long for me to decide. So sorry for the wait but I wanted to make this perfect, so please tell me it's good!

Taglist: @captainsbaby, @feedthefandoms995, @kyuupidwrites, @fatedeniedhope, @bangirl134, @blueoorchid, @iimfae, @a1nazzz, @motherofreposts, @emi-flaces, @liliumbosniacum, @whore-for-anime, @zeyzeys-stuff, @greenhornphotography, @ofmenanduhhhwellmen, @simonsslvt, @bunky101, @gisselleherrerposts, @natchayaphorn, @xdarkcreaturex, @theunknownartistsworld, @somelikeitmaat

▻ Chapter 1 from the It’s Always Been You series ◅

"ChEeRs ToO... Y/N!" David drunkenly said, slurring over his words as he raises his glass which he had just gotten in the air. A series of woos and chants of your name just barely rang through your ears over the piercing music. But you were so focused on reaching your new high score for drinking that you didn't realise how drunk you actually were.

You could feel every beat of the music echoing through your head and out of your ears. The sounds of people laughing and talking only was a third of this club's noise. And yet you were spending every penny of your money that your boss gave you before letting you leave for Manhattan. The surprising and shocking raise seemed so useless now.

Who cared about buying food for the next weeks or any gas bills. sure you were going to stay in an apartment from your company but they only gave you two-three weeks to get back on your feet. And unknowningly you were about to spend everything.

But a cold hand shook you from your thinking state. Looking over Ava, your friend was trying to whisper in your ear. Despite her giggling and shaky hand. "I- 'm so happy for you Y/N!" A giggle slipped from out of you, and to everyone else, you two probably looked like two high school girls gossiping. "Thank yooooou!" Her eyes lightly ranked over your skimpy dress, the sparkly material was beautiful against your skin.

The thin straps which were before supporting you fully at the start of the night. One was slowly slipping off your shoulder, and your cleavage was covered up with a puffy jacket as well but was now discarded to the side. But looking back up her eyes met yours, a smile also greeting yours back.

♡ ♡ ♡

(Simon's 3rd POV)

Sitting down Simon leaned far back into the leather booth, the cuffs on his suit rolled up slightly. Exposing his arm hair and very expensive watch, which he looked at briefly. A sigh came from him as he turned his attention to the men in front of him. "Mr, Riley." He hummed his eyes digging into his as he waited to hear this guys propose for the 10th time tonight.

"If you take us not only will you get double... even triple the shipments. But in return, we'll need your full support in all trouble." Simon studies the files in front again, not fully in his mind to accept this guy and instead all he wants to do is leave. Let alone just wanting to be left alone.

"And what would that include?" Simon roughly includes, his eyes flickering over to the bodyguard standing behind him. A feeling of piercing eyes fucking stalking his every move is starting to piss him off. As if he's going to take a gun out and shoot the fuck out of his guy. "Any interference goes to you-" Soap cuts him off, having enough just as much as Simon is.

"How can we trus' ya?" Soap's voice is sharp and fierce, just like his fist punching the table he truly knows how to make someone piss their pants. "Uhm well... I'll have you know we've never gone behind anyone's back. Especially not you, sir." He turns his head towards Soap, a single tear of sweat neatly rolls down his forehead. A smirk just barely seen by Soap through the dark corner of this booth.

Simon can feel Soap turn his head towards him, his eyes meet him before a single nod from Simon ends everything. The guy across sighs loudly, like a gust of air, just left his body or maybe that was his fear. But now he was slightly smiling, neatly sliding the paper over to Simon to sign. The pen from his suit pulled out and clicked yet the sound of writing never came. Only something else caught his attention...?

♡ ♡ ♡

Finishing up in the bathroom you flushed, pushing open the cubicle door only to be startled. "Shit-! You scared me!" Laughing, a hand on your head you jumped when you rounded the corner. Your co-worker stood there, waiting for you. A slightly evil yet funny twisted grin on his face like he was joking but he was planning to do something. Yet all those red flags went right passed you as you stumbled over to the sink. Washing your hands quickly, not noticing how close he had gotten to you until you turned around.

Nearly bumping heads you two stared at each other for a moment, your mind completely ignoring the fact he was in the girls' bathroom. His eyes obviously not meeting yours as he blatantly stared at your breasts. Yet you still had no idea, only the face he was so close his breath could be felt against yours.

"We should go bAcK to the others" Slurring your words you stumbled around him, leaving the room but not before his hand reached out to grab yours. He dragged you along to a more quiet place but you hadn't realised until you both were so far away from the crowd. "Jack wha' are you doing?" He smirked again, having no idea what he was doing but somehow having made up his mind ages ago. You figured he was waiting to talk about something privately but now you realised.

Sure he's always been that co-worker perv in every workplace but you never knew he'd actually go as far as this. He's had his eyes on you from day one and the only reason he came was to probably do this to you. Going so far as to follow you to the bathroom and even more disgusting that he most defiantly planned this out beforehand.

Your train of thought broke when he started to caress your body, carelessly kissing and attacking your neck. Squeezing your hips harder when you tried to push him away, your pleads fell deaf to his ears. "Stop, Y/N." He said firmly, his tone of voice giving you the sign that if you didn't he'd do something. Shaking your head you tried to break away again, the palms of your hands gripped his hair as you shoved him back. Hard.

"Why do you have to be such a-" "A what?" Jack turned around, his hand fell from his hair from where you pulled. And you weakly looked up, your eyes studying the men who had seemingly came from thin air. Jack instantly let his guard not, a slight chuckle broke the tension. "Come on man, we- she was only playing" His hands threw to you, the man's eyes quickly turned to you. Taking in your slightly ruined makeup and intoxicated posture. But your eyes said so much more for someone he only met.

"Get the hell out of here." His rough and dark voice sent shivers down your neck, making every hair stand up. Which was enough for Jack to nod instantly, turning around to grab your arm. Before he was stopped and shoved forcefully, but without turning around he left. Getting the signal if he turned around he may not leave tonight with his face intact.

So he left you, not looking back before he blended in with the crowd. Leaving you alone with the man. "Are you okay?" He asked looking down, yet not meeting your eyes as you nodded, sucking up the flood of tears threatening to escape. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good" But he said nothing, feeling his eyes take in every detail of you. To your face and pupils to your shaking legs and ragged breath. Yet having never meeting you before he gladly handed over his hankerchief.

You looked up scared shitless he was going to pull out a gun, the one you could clearly see sticking out from his suit shirt. His large hand reached into his front pocket, pulling the white handkerchief out before handing it to you. His veiny and massive fingers nearly swallowed your hand whole. And shakily taking it from him you thanked him sweetly and quietly, wiping the tears and stains from your eyes. Just about to hand it back before you noticed...

He was gone.

[m-jelly]

All I need - Chapter 1

@ladycheesington <3

Levi x fem!reader Future Fic, Romance, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, mafia, Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Gangsters Violence, Love, Confessions, Love, True Love, Fluff, Protective Levi, Possessive Levi, Gang Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

You become the centre of Levi's world after a collection of debts your runaway ex put you in goes wrong because of a new kid not following Levi's orders correctly. Levi makes it his life's mission to protect you, care for you and give you everything you could ever want. As love blossoms between the two of you, things around you start to fall apart. Multiple people are working to stop Levi and take the power he has over the city. With multiple enemies working against you and assuming you're Levi's weakness, Levi shows them all just how powerful you make him.

A gangster romance with love, smut, romance, fluff, gore, lies, secrets and violence.

This chapter: Your now ex left you in debt with a gang and you're left to foot the bill. The debt collection goes wrong and the leader of the gang, Levi, comes to see you personally. Levi protects you and keeps you close. He takes care of you taking you and others by surprise.

Trigger warning: The reader is attacked and beaten in the beginning of this story.

Ao3 link

Part 2

It was driving you insane what had happened over the last few weeks. First, your boyfriend showered you with too many gifts and then he started to get paranoid like someone was watching him. Second, his things in your shared apartment started to disappear but he was at home a lot. Third, he vanished and left a note on the bed saying he was running off to earn more money and pay for all the debts he’d put you in.

Debts.

You had no idea that he had debts and put anything in your name. The most heartbreaking thing of all was he took everything from your account and left nothing. You had no money left to pay for bills and your rent. The only thing you had left was money in your savings, which you had been saving up for your dream home in the city.

As you faced your landlord while fighting tears, you were slowly losing your mind. No matter how much you begged him to let you stay for a bit longer, he wouldn’t let it happen. You even offered him some money in your savings until you made it to your next paycheck, but he simply said sorry and that someone was already interested.

It didn’t take long for you to pack your things up because you had sold a lot to get some money. The move to the next apartment was awful. It was tiny with just the basics. You had a lot of neon lights outside from shops, meaning your place would always be lit up even with blinds up. The rain did leak in a bit as well, so you were always cleaning it up.

As you made some instant ramen for dinner, you were wondering if your life could get worse than this. You wanted to know if more things could go wrong. You had a little hope in you that things could go well.

While you were holding out hope for life, something was happening that was going to change your life. The bad things in your life were not done with you yet. Your now ex had not only put you in some debt that you’d paid off with your savings, but he’d also gotten a debt with the mafia and they wanted to collect.

Levi gazed at the new kid and Mike. “This is a big debt. Tch, the shit owes me a lot and there are a few in his girlfriend’s name.” He said your name softly as he said your name written on the contracts. “Cute name. This writing looks like his. So, I’m assuming he signed her name.”

Mike hummed. “Likely.”

“What’s the update? He disappeared and so did she. You locate them?”

Mike nodded. “In a new apartment. Want to send the new kid?”

Levi looked the kid up and down. “Tch, oi? Do this right and you’ll be part of the group. Go to the apartment and see if you can get the money. Got it?”

The kid saluted. “Yes sir!”

“Go.”

The kid hurried off out of the base and into his car. Excitement filled him as he thought about his job. This mission was the first one he’d been sent on his own. He couldn’t wait to prove to his boss Levi that he should be in the scouts. He believed he was a vital part and Levi would think he was the best thing ever.

It was drizzly when he arrived at the apartment block. He landed his hover car on the platform and made his way inside. The kid was hoping that you didn’t have the money so he could break you to get the money. Levi had never approved of breaking someone to get money, but the kid was sure he would be proud if he got a lot of money from you.

He slammed his fist against your door a few times and waited. As soon as you opened the door he slammed his fist hard into your face and knocked you to the floor. “Where the fuck is the money.”

You touched your face and felt blood. “M-money?”

He closed the door behind him. “You owe my boss a lot of money.”

“What money?” You welled up. “I don’t understand.”

He punched you across the face again. A rush of pleasure went through him when you screamed and your blood coated the floor. His fist wrapped tightly around your shirt allowing him to lift you. “You and your boyfriend took a loan out with my boss and he wants the money.”

“My boyfriend skipped town. He stole all my money and ran. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. Please.”

He shoved you against the floor and gripped your neck tightly. “Liar.”

You gasped and kicked your legs. “S-Stop!”

“Your boyfriend is here. Call for him!”

You welled up. “He’s…not…”

“Oh, Danny! Come out!” He gritted his teeth as you looked on the verge of passing out. He released your next and growled. “Fucking stupid bitch.” He stood up and slammed his boot down on your arm causing you to scream. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

You whimpered. “I’ll send you the last of my savings. Tell your boss I’ll slowly pay him back each month.” You shivered as you fought your tears. “Please.”

He released you. “Send.”

You tapped on your communicator and sent the money across. “It’s yours.”

“Good bitch.” A sense of pride filled him. He got a lot of money from you, it wasn’t enough to pay off the debt but it was enough to make Levi happy. With this pride in him, he decided to take things further and slowly started trashing your apartment as you begged him to stop. He walked over to you and kicked you to the floor a few times. “Dumb bitch. I’ll be back soon.”

After leaving you he felt like he could run miles, drink bottle after bottle and fuck anyone he wanted. A false sense of power filled him. To him, he felt like there was no shot Levi would deny him a chance to be a scout. He did everything to make Levi proud. First, he had to report to Mike.

Mike sniffed the air once the kid returned. “I smell blood.”

The kid smirked. “For a good reason.”

Rage filled Mike. “What did you do?”

“Something amazing.” He shoved Levi’s office door open and grinned. “I got your money!”

Levi turned to face the kid and noticed his knuckles and shirt had blood on them. “Why is there blood on you?”

“Well, the dumb bitch needed to learn a lesson. So, I beat her black and blue, choked her a bit before trashing the place. She sent me the last of her savings.” He laughed hard as he thought about you. “What a pathetic bitch she was. Begging me to stop and that Danny wasn’t there. Said that I took all her money too.”

Levi’s foot connected with the kid’s gut and sent him smashing into the metal office door causing a dent to form. The raw power behind Levi’s hits was frightening to anyone. “I never gave you permission to lay a hand on her.” He walked closer as the air got thick and a darkness came over Levi’s face sending pure fear through the kid. “You beat a woman whose boyfriend had left her and you took all her money. This apartment she is in now? It’s the cheapest shit in the city, you dumb fucking piece of shit!”

Mike placed his hand on Levi’s chest. “Boss? We should focus on a girl needing medical attention, not this shithead.”

Levi pushed back his hair to return it to its tamed combed-back way. “You’re right.”

“Shall I send a medic?”

Levi shook his head. “I’ll go to her. I have to beg for her forgiveness for this moron. Make sure Hange sees him for discipline. Got it?”

“On it.”

Levi walked down the hall and sighed. “I’ll treat her. Tell the others not to bother me. I’ll update Erwin too.”

Mike dragged the kid down the hall. “I’m sorry I was a bad teacher to this one.”

Levi paused in the lift and looked at his friend. “You are not at fault for his stupidity. He thought his dick was bigger than it is. The fault is in him, not you. You’ve trained a lot of good members. I’ll be back soon.”

“You got it.”

The feelings inside Levi right now felt like something was burning him. No matter how hard he tried to push it down, it was still boiling up inside him and he wanted to hurt someone. The wheel groaned under Levi’s angry grip as he made his way to your apartment. He was thinking of what to say to you, but all the things that came to mind were just pure anger towards the kid who did this to you.

He parked up and went through the apartment block until he reached your door. He didn’t expect you to open your door to him, so he had a story ready and a lot of apologies. He gripped his medical bag, lightly rapped his knuckles against the door and held his breath a moment.

You pressed the small window and gazed out at Levi. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the most handsome man you’d ever seen. “C-Can I help you?”

Levi flinched at your projected voice. “Hello. I’m Levi Ackerman. I believe a fucking piece of shit came here earlier and hurt you. I am sorry. He was in training with my people, but now he’ll be punished. I want to fix what he’s broken. I have a medical bag.” He lifted it for you to see. “I want to help. I’ll pay for the damages.”

You whined. “I can’t pay you back though and I already owe you money because of my ex.”

“After what that shit stain did to you today while using my name, I am wiping the debt clean for you.”

You gripped the door handle. “But my ex still owes you?”

“I will break him if you let me.”

You giggled. “Please do.” You opened the door a little. “Please excuse the mess and my face. I’m trying to clean up.”

Levi’s eyes widened as he took you in. Both your eyes were bruised up, your lip was cut, your nose had bled and there were marks on your neck. “Fuck.”

You smiled sadly. “That bad?”

He blushed. “Sorry. I just…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here to fix it, so it’s okay.” You waved him in. “Come on in.”

Levi slipped his shoes off and made himself at home. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you a tea?”

He looked around your place to see the damaged things gathered in the corner ready to be fixed. “Uh, I think you should relax.”

You walked over to him. “You having tea with me would help me relax.”

He gazed at you as his heart fluttered. Your voice was incredibly soothing to him, your smile was infectious, your body divine and there was just something about you that drew him to you. “I’ll take that tea then.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’ll set up everything.” He placed his medical box on the table, used his fingerprint to open it and started getting a few things out for you. The way you looked it seemed like some bones had either been broken or cracked, so he needed his best stuff. “Have you done anything yet to try and heal your wounds?”

You returned to Levi with his tea and yours. “I tried. I can’t afford much right now. All I could do was fix my ribs and arm with bone healing. I think he cracked something.”

“Shit.”

You sat next to Levi. “All I need is the face stuff.”

He nodded and picked a bone healer. “I think you have a cracked bone where your cheek is. Are you okay with me using the healer?”

You clenched your fists as you felt nervous. “Yes, but I’m not looking forward to the pain. The bone healers are horrible.”

His touch was light as he held your chin. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired.”

He hesitated momentarily when he saw the exhaustion and pain on your face. “Forgive me. This is only for a moment, okay?”

You whimpered. “Okay.”

He pressed the healing pen against your cheek and injected it. He flinched you grabbed his arm tightly and cried in pain. “I’m sorry. Just a bit longer.” He pulled back and rubbed his thumb over the wound. “Better?”

You sniffed. “Mm.”

Instinct and feelings overtook his actions leading him to kiss your cheek. As soon as he registered what he did he released your cheek and pulled back. He blushed when you smiled sweetly at him before and leaned towards him for a kiss. Levi held his breath and moved closer but you flopped forwards against him after passing out.

Levi released a long sigh before looking around the room. “Hmm.” He lay you down on the sofa before looking around your place. It was all one room and just a blind to hide your toilet and shower. “Where does she sleep?” He stared at the sofas, the blankets, the pillows and a little cushioned board that would attach the two sofas. “Fuck me…poor thing.”

Levi scooped you up into his arms and carried you to his car. He carefully placed you in the back before loading all your belongings into his car, which wasn’t many. As soon as he had everything he drove to the best hotel he owned and parked in his spot. First, he took you to the best room and lay you on the bed, then he added your things to the room.

He went to the bathroom and ran you a bath so you could relax when you woke up, he even made sure to add something nice to the water and put the towel on the radiator. Room service was ordered for you and Levi made sure that everyone knew that anything you asked for, or ordered, was on him. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. He knew very well you’d wake up and try to pay him back for everything, so he had a plan.

Your eyes flew open as you inhaled deeply. “Levi.”

Levi sat on the bed with you. “I’m here.”

You looked around a little. “Where am I?” Tears filled your eyes as you felt slight fear. “I’ll do anything to get your money back to you, but I won’t sell my body to you or anyone. I’m sorry! I can’t.”

Levi cupped your face. “Shh, shh, I’m not asking that.” He wiped your tears away. “I don’t support that at all, okay? Besides, the debt you’re talking about is not yours, it’s your ex’s.”

“But he put things in my name.”

“I know, but I can tell by meeting you that you had no idea about it.” He hugged you. “Sorry, I felt like you needed this. Look, everything in your name has been moved to him, okay? Besides, if anyone is in debt to anyone it’s me to you. Someone in my name hurt you and damaged your things.” He pulled back and smiled a little at you. “I owe you and you owe me nothing.”

You pulled and played with the bed cover. “Mm, so, you want to help me?”

“Yes. I’ll give you anything you need.”

You gulped hard. “A good paying job?”

He chuckled. “I can get that arranged. It was my plan anyway. I know just the job for you and I will pay you well.”

Your eyes sparkled as you gazed at him. “Really? Amazing.” You gulped hard. “Thank you, Levi. I’m shocked at how much you’re helping me. You’re nothing like the rumours.”

“I’m glad.” He held your hand. “Now I’m taking care of you and I employ you, I am making a few changes. For starters, your apartment is no longer your apartment. I will sell it and you will be living here for a bit until I get you something better.”

Your heart fluttered. “Really? But-.”

He kissed your hand and smirked at you causing you to gasp and go quiet. “I take care of my employees. I’ll also pay you in advance and I will get some clothes sent here for you. Anything you need, let me know. Got it?”

You were so enchanted by his gaze that you just nodded and agreed with him. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Now, head to the bathroom and enjoy a nice hot bath. Once you’re done there go into the living room area and eat up everything there.” He pinched your cheek and wigged your face. “You deserve the best.”

You gripped the sheet tightly as a mixture of feelings went through you. At first, you thought Levi might hold affection towards you, but then you started to think that maybe he saw you as a young sister that he had to take care of. You didn’t mind because it meant at least someone cared about you in this sad city.

Two weeks had gone by and you were still in the hotel room recovering from being beaten. Your bruising had faded and your bones no longer felt funny. Levi had come by to see you almost every day. All Levi would do was check on you and give you some gifts before staying over for a while. The two of you would either talk, hang out a little or just sit in comfortable silence. It was nice to enjoy each other’s company.

Today you’d been alone for most of the day. You had grown so accustomed to Levi’s company, that you missed him. It was clear he was not coming to visit you, so you decided that you’d enjoy yourself and relax for the day. So, you run a hot bath with plenty of nice things in, heat your towel along with your dressing gown before getting in.

As soon as your body hit the water it was in pure heaven. All your aches washed away causing sleepiness to consume you. You closed your heavy eyes and softly slept in the big comfy bath. All your cares and worries in the world were gone. Even though Levi was a leader of a deadly and powerful gang, since meeting him you felt so safe and cared for. It was odd to seek comfort with a man who can and has killed.

Levi felt bad that he hadn’t come to see you all day, but he had a lot of meetings and needed to make sure your job was all set up. The job he had made for you was just a front and kind of fake. A building had been set up with a reception desk area that only people with ID approval on their communicator could get in. The work Levi was going to get you to do was just organise his emails a bit, send some messages for him, review mission reports for him and sum it all up in a smaller report. It was nice and simple for you.

He searched for you around your hotel room, but could only find evidence of your presence. The last place he checked was your bedroom and you had left your bathroom door open. He glanced inside to see you in the bath with your eyes closed. A slight jolt of fear went through him as you lay there unmoving. He hurried inside and checked your pulse to find your heart beating.

He released a long sigh and pulled away from you. “Tch, thank fuck.”

The sweet sound of Levi’s voice caused your eyes to flutter open. “Levi?”

He quickly turned his back to you when you started to sit up. His cheeks burned at the image of the top of your wet breasts came to mind. He used every ounce of his willpower to think of anything else, but it was hard to when you were moving about in the bath behind him. His hands shook a little as nerves consumed him. Normally he was smooth talking with people and confident, but you made him a mess.

You climbed out of your bath, dried yourself and then put on your dressing gown. “You can look now.”

He turned to look at you and felt his heart flutter. “Sorry, I came in here. I saw you lying there and not moving and I got concerned. I’m glad you are well.”

You fidgeted on the spot. “I’ve never had anyone care so much before. Thank you. I am well. I uh…I was worried about you because you were a while.”

He reached over and caressed your cheek. “You missed me?”

“I did.” You pulled from his touch with the belief that he held no love in his heart for you. Your heart was damaged and fragile, so it was difficult to imagine someone would care for you without a catch. Plus, you believed that Levi was only helping you out of guilt. “Are you here to make sure I’m eating well? I am if you’re asking.”

He emptied your bath as he hummed a little. “I am here to tell you about your new job.”

You sat down on a seat in the bathroom. “Really? That’s exciting.”

He nodded. “Yep. What you’ll be doing is checking emails for me, sending messages out, reviewing reports and then converting them into smaller ones to send to me. There’s no pressure either.”

You smiled sweetly. “Sounds like a great job.”

“I’m glad you think that.” He tapped on his communicator on his arm. “Sending you your first month’s pay.”

You looked down at your comms, the amount that came through made you gasp in shock. “Levi, this is too much.”

He hummed a laugh. “I think it’s not enough. I know you’ll be good at your job and you’ll help me out a lot.”

“When do I start?”

He rolled his sleeves up to reveal his arms were covered in tattoos. “Whenever you want.” He noticed you were staring at his arms. “Is it the muscles or tattoos that have your attention?”

You gulped hard. “Tattoos. I can tell you’re covered in muscles, but I didn’t expect the ink.”

He hummed a laugh. “I’m covered in tattoos. I have a few spots free that I intend to put something special there.”

“For a lover?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You hummed a laugh. “What if it doesn’t go well with your lover?”

He cleaned up the tub as he thought. “Well, I intend to make it work with them. I don’t throw my love around.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He stared at you for a while. “I have two exes and both I tried to love, but failed which is why I am not with them and I don’t have a tattoo. I know I’ll find the one. I have a strong feeling they are close.”

You fiddled with your dressing gown. “I’m happy for you.” You rose to your feet. “I’m going to change and probably go to bed. I fell asleep in the bath so I am taking the hint that I need sleep.”

“I’ll stay over. I have paperwork to do.” He watched you for a moment. It was clear something was bothering you and he was hoping that maybe the connection you had already would help. He waited a while so you could change before joining you. He softly called your name as you climbed into bed. “Something bothering you?”

You sat in bed and hummed in thought. “I’m just thinking things over. My situation and everything. I’m so grateful to you for what you’ve done. Thank you.”

He walked closer to you. “You feel guilty, don’t you? I want to treat you. This is all my choice.”

You welled up a little. “I don’t understand why you’re doing it all.”

“Because you don’t deserve the terrible things that have happened to you. You deserve good things in life.” He reached over and rubbed your cheek. “You deserve happiness.”

“Levi.”

He smiled a little. “An I uh…I li…I…I li.” He winced at his comms going. “Tch, shit. I have to get this. Excuse me.”

You smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’ll get some sleep. Thank you though. I feel better knowing your reason for helping me. I think I’m just…that damage Danny did.”

Levi pinched your cheek. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, okay? Also, when I find that piece of shit I will make him wish he was never born.”

You giggled. “I can’t wait.”

He tucked you into bed. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, okay?”

You curled up under the covers. “Thank you.”

Levi made his way to your living room and sat. He released a long sigh and thought about everything. His heart longed for you but he wasn’t sure if he should pursue anything because you had been hurt, your heart had been damaged. Walking into your life and loving you was not the answer to your problems. No matter how much Levi longed to be yours, it just wasn’t the right move right now. All he needed to do was look after you, give you the space you needed and watch for signs of when you were ready to receive love again.

For now, Levi was going to find your ex and drag his sorry ass back to this city and make him pay. He tapped away on his communicator and called the best tracker in his gang. “Sasha? I’ve got a job for you.”

“Hey, boss! What can I do for you?”

Levi sent all the information he had over. “I need you to find this man for me. He skipped town after gaining a large debt. He left someone wonderful to suffer because of it. Find him for me and when you do, do whatever you want or can to drag him back here.”

Sasha laughed. “You got it, boss, I’m happy to hunt and hurt him.”

“I appreciate this. You’re doing me a big favour. I’ll call you later.” He ended the call and gazed out of the window at the neon city with cars flying by. “Mmm, she deserves better.” He glanced down to see Hange’s name light up. “What can I do for you?”

Hange grinned. “I have some great news for you! I did a lot of research on the girl you’re looking after.”

“Oh?”

She giggled. “I am sending it over now. Looks like she was dating Danny for a year and he was good at first, but then the debts started a few months in. She was saving money for a dream home in the city.”

Levi gulped hard. “Send me a picture.” He tapped away on his comms and smiled at the cute apartment that was a little high up with a wonderful garden. “So cute. It fits her well. Well, I think we should work on making her dream come true.”

“Great idea! Now, can I ask why you’re doing all this? I’m curious Levi because you’ve never done this before.” She hummed a laugh. “She special?”

“She is.”

“You going to ask her out?”

He looked over at your door. “Not yet.”

“When?”

He ruffled his hair. “When she’s ready.”

“Baby steps with her. You’ve got this.”

Levi smiled a little. “Thanks.”

As Levi pulled up in the car it allowed you to look out at the building where you’d work. It was tall and shiny with a few pretty plants outside. You climbed out of the car and clutched your bag tightly as you admired the place. Happiness filled your heart because it was the most perfect place to work. The best part about it was Levi was leading you to the doors. The more you looked at Levi, the more your heart yearned for him.

Levi beckoned you closer. “This door will open for you because I have uploaded an ID to your communicator. Anyone without one won’t be able to get in.” He pushed the door open. “This is your office.”

You gasped in delight at the tidy and cute desk Levi had set up. It had wonderful soft and gentle colours on it, with a few little cute cuddly toys. The computer screen was nice and big for you. The mouse pad had a little dog on it and matched the sweet theme of everything. You adored the officer chair and thought the bunny ears on top were a cute addition. There was a snack cupboard and a fridge for you, along with a nice tea and coffee station.

Levi pulled the chair out for you. “Take a seat.”

You sat down and enjoyed how comfy it was. “This is nice.”

He leaned over your shoulder and whispered against your ear causing you to shiver. “I’m so glad. You wanna know the best thing about this job?”

You turned your head and gazed at Levi. “What?”

He eyed your lips for a moment before looking deep into your eyes. “No customers. It’ll be incredibly rare that someone will come here. Isn’t that good?”

You giggled. “Yes. I love that.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled back and hummed. “I’ll be working here in the office behind you. If you need me, you call for me.”

You nodded. “Promise.”

“Good girl.” He walked towards the door behind you. “I mean it. Call me if you need me for anything at all, even if it’s for a chat.”

You waved to him. “I promise.”

You waited for Levi to go into his office before you tapped on your keyboard and saw you were logged in thanks to your communicator. You stared at your empty emails and felt a bit useless, but a wonderful email came through from Levi. He made your heart flutter at how sweet he was in his welcome email. You replied to him and smiled at the emails that came through, along with a to-do list.

When you studied the to-do list, it didn’t seem like that much for the day which wasn’t too surprising. A part of you suspected that this job was just a front for Levi’s shady business, but you didn’t mind at all. Levi was kind and sweet to you, so you were happy to do anything he asked of you. You got to work right away and enjoyed the delicious snacks and food Levi had bought you.

As lunch came, you ordered some food to be delivered to the building. When the delivery machine arrived you opened the door and took all the food. You were about to close the door but an old man slammed his cane on the door and shoved it open. You backed up a little before blocking his path because Levi had clearly told you that you would never have contact with customers again.

You gulped hard. “Sorry sir, but can I help you?”

“Help me!? Help me!? I don’t like your tone of voice! And look at you, ordering food and grabbing it from a bot right in the front door where customers enter!”

You flinched at his tone. “Sir, we’re not a business. This building just has me and my boss in. We just process reports.”

He pointed at you. “Are you calling me stupid? How dare you!”

You felt panicked and tried to keep your cool due to years of customer service. “I’m sorry, sir, that was not the intention of my words. May I ask the reason why you wish to come into this building?”

“Why? Do you not know? My god, when I was your age we knew what we did in our jobs. These days all you young people just sit around and don’t care! This world hates old people! I am here for my money!”

You gripped the bag of food. “From Mr Ackerman?”

He shoved past you. “That’s what he’s called now, huh? They’re always swapping people around and getting rid of the old experienced workers. Now these places are full of young people who have no experience!”

You hurried after him. “Is it taxes? Council tax? Pension?”

He glared at you. “Why should I tell you!? You’re just a receptionist! Go get your boss, a real man! I demand to see him!”

You placed the food bag down on your desk. “Mr Ackerman is a rather busy man. He deals with a lot and-.”

“Are you saying no to me? What kind of customer service is this? You stupid pathetic woman! I pay your wages! I want to put in a complaint about you! Everything has gone bloody downhill! I’ll have your job.” He slammed his cane down on the floor. “You are prejudiced against old people! I’ll have your job for that! I promise you, you little fat tramp, you will be out on your arse in a heartbeat if I was your boss!”

You fought your tears and took in a deep breath. “Mr Ackerman deals with clubs, bars and shops. He doesn’t deal with pensions, taxes, benefits or council tax. We do not accept customers in this build. You are in the wrong place, I am sorry. Now if you tell me why you are here, I can help you out.”

He swiped his cane and smacked your leg with it. “Don’t you talk to me like that! Who do you think you are? I’m not some senile old man! I used to work for a place like this you know? It was far better when I was younger! I want this Mr Ackerman out here now.”

You winced a bit. “I will go get him, please just take a seat.” You limped to the back door and knocked. “Levi?”

The door slid open and Levi’s soothing voice called your name. “Come in.”

You limped inside as you fought tears. “Umm. Some old man forced his way into the building and started calling me names and shouting at me. He hit me with his cane and demanded to talk to you. I’m so sorry. I tried to get rid of him for you. I’ve failed you on my first day.”

Levi hurried over to you and held you as you cried. “Shh, it’s okay you haven’t failed at all. Tell me what happened.” He listened to your story in between your sobs. “So cute, you got us lunch.”

You sniffed a little. “I did.”

“Thank you.” He softly wiped your tears away. “You are amazing, okay?” He released a long sigh. “You did so well against him, but remember it’s okay to ask for help.”

You hummed. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me.” He cupped your face and nuzzled his nose against yours. “I’m here for you, okay?”

A warmth washed over you from Levi’s words and touch. You felt safe. “Yes, Levi. Thank you.”

He released you and pulled his blazer off to show he had a tight-fitting waistcoat under. Next, he rolled his sleeves up to show off his tattoos. No matter how much he tried to put his hair back, a few strands kept falling out of the hold of the product. He glanced over at you. “You can stay here or join me. All I will say is, I’m not going to be friendly. In my world, it doesn’t matter how old you are or where you come from, if you show no respect you don’t get any.”  

You clasped your hands together before your chest as your eyes sparkled in awe. “I like it.”

He stormed out of his office to see the old man messing up your desk. “Tch, oi! What do you think you’re doing to my girl’s desk!?”

“You’re girl.” You softly whispered as your heart fluttered.

The old man was ready for a fight, but as soon as he locked his eyes with Levi it seemed as if he recognised just who he’d disrespected today. “Levi Ackerman?”

Levi snarled. “That’s right, and who the fuck are you? You came barging into my office. You disrespected me. You disrespected my place and worst of all” he moved closer with a menacing aura “you disrespected my girl. Now, kindly tell me what the fuck you want and why you are here because as far as I’m aware, I have no meetings today with shrivelled-up old cocks like you.”

The old man shook a little. “I thought…I thought this was…”

“This was what? Some place you could shout at poor hard-working people just so you could get your thrill for the day? So you could feel big and powerful, huh?” Levi spat his words at the man. “Pathetic. Picking on people who are doing their best in life because you think the world owes you everything? You probably did jack-shit for the world. You’re a greedy old fuck who needs to reflect on his life. I bet you’re alone, aren’t you?”

“I-I.”

“You made yourself that way.” Levi pocked him in the chest. “Your selfish and self-centred ways pushed everyone away. Why don’t you try doing things for others for a change? Maybe thank hard-working people for doing their job. You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t even realise how others may feel. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

The old man lowered his head. “But I…”

“Did you ever stop to think about her? About maybe how your words could hurt? Plus, she isn’t a fucking mind reader. If you have a goddamn problem, you tell someone! She wanted to help you but you shut her down at every opportunity because you wanted to be this big ol’ dicked boss. Oh, and also? She was right. This place does not have customer service. I bet you were here about council tax, right?”

The old man mumbled a little. “Yes.”

“You got the wrong building. You need the other side of the city. I bet you knew you were wrong, so you took it out on her. It’s not her fault you’re stupid. It’s not her fault you got it wrong.” He walked over to the door and shoved it open. “Get out before I report you for hitting her with a cane. Yeah, U heard and I have cameras in here.”

You hurried over to the old man as he limped away with a strong blush. “Excuse me? I hope whoever hurt you in the past who made you like this suffered. Just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you should hurt others. I really did want to help you.” You smiled softly at him. “Not everyone is out to hurt you. As a wonderful man once told me. Show respect and you get respect.”

The old man sneered at you as if you repulsed him. “I don’t need some mafia whore giving me therapy.”

Levi grabbed the scruff of the man’s collar and threw him out. “She gave you a chance and you fucked it up. If I see you near her again, I will beat your okay leg with your cane until the bone shatters.” Levi slammed the door closed and growled. “Un-fucking-believable. I should rip his spine out and use it to choke him!”

The rage inside Levi faded in an instant when you cupped his face with your soft hands. The sweet and bright look in your eyes made him melt. It was like you were a beast tamer. Instinct took over him causing him to nuzzle his face against your hand for comfort. He grabbed your hips first before pulling you against him. He held you for a while before releasing you.

Levi hummed a laugh. “Maybe I should add hugging to your job description.”

You giggled at how playful he was being. “Maybe. I like to see it as a fun bonus.”

He blushed bright red at your words. “W-We should have lunch.” He left you and grabbed the lunch bag. “Come on, let’s go.”

You hurried after him and went into his office. “Is it okay that I check my leg? He hit me rather hard.”

Levi placed the bag on the coffee table and looked over at you. “Where did he hit you?”

You touched your upper thigh. “Here.”

Levi gulped hard. He knew he needed to look at the wound and assess it, but at the same time, he was nervous about touching your sensitive thigh and looking at you without your tights on. “I ah…need you to lift your dress and take your tights off so I can look.”

You hummed and slipped your shoes off first before wiggling off your tights. “Sure.”

Levi could not take his eyes off of you. Something tingled inside him as your tights slowly dragged down your legs to reveal your soft and biteable skin. He wanted to bite and suck on your skin. He gulped hard as you lightly played with the bottom of your dress before pulling it up to show your thighs to him.

You turned a little. “My left thigh.”

He knelt before you and gripped your thigh. “Fuck.” He stared at the big wound. “He hit you hard.”

“He did.” You felt Levi’s grip on your thigh tighten with his rage. You reached down and played with his hair. “I’m okay. You’ll heal it.”

He looked up at you as he lightly massaged your thigh. “I will. I’ll fix it.” He rose to his feet and looked down at you, his big muscles and dominant look making you feel so small and yet protected. “Take a seat on the sofa, okay?”

You sat down and watched Levi closely. “Thank you. You always seem to be helping me out.”

“Well, because I want to.” He walked over to you with his medical bag and began rubbing the cream into the wound. “This should help.”

You hummed. “Thank you.” A shooting pain made you flinch. “Ow.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ve done so much for me and you’re very delicate.” You smiled as you watched him work. “Your girl, huh?”

Levi’s cheeks went red. “U-Uh, y-yes. I-I meant that uh…that you uh…that you’re with me, you know? You’re um…protected by me.” He reached over and held your hand. “You’re mine.”

You smiled a little as happiness filled your heart. You knew there was a tiny chance this was a romantic claim to you being his girl, but in your eyes, Levi was too perfect for you. You were damaged goods and you felt like you’d only cause him pain if you got romantic. However, you had hope that there was a chance because he wasn’t any ordinary guy. Levi was a strong and deadly leader of a criminal group. He had control over a lot of the city and its money. Levi could protect you and care for you like no one has ever done before. You could tell by Levi’s words, his gaze, his touch and the way he smiled at you that you meant something to him.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Here is my role reversal AU where the Kittisawats are the powerful mafia family, and the Theerapanyakuls are the poor brothers cousins trying to survive. Also they’re all sex workers. 

Tankhun is the overworked and overstressed eldest trying to take care of his family. Korn is a sick old man, likely to die any day now, and Gun is their shady, unreliable uncle who takes advantage of his brother’s failing health and the boys for his own gain. He’s part of a low-level gang; robberies, muggings, minor car theft. Nothing that would get the attention of actual organized criminals. A scumbag. 

Kinn and Vegas are the primary supports. Tankhun does his best, but he’s got his own trauma to work through. Kinn is the bartender fucking patrons for extra tips; Vegas is just a prostitute, and he doesn’t try to hide it. He also deals drugs on the side, and sometimes is forced into helping with Gun’s crimes. First as a lookout when he was young, then as an active participant. Kinn and Khun both fight with him about his methods. Kinn, because he thinks Vegas is reckless, getting involved with his father like that. He won’t be able to avoid the police forever if he keeps engaging in violent crime. Vegas thinks none of them can afford to be scrupulous with their morals, and none of them can deny that he delivers. 

Tankhun, a former prostitute himself, until he was kidnapped and… had a bad time… scolds Vegas for being so reckless with his own sex work. He’s terrified of anyone in his family going through the same things he did. Now he’s agoraphobic as hell, terrified of strangers, and only manages to pull himself together for the sake of his family. He still does sexwork, but now he’s just a camboy; there isn’t much else he can do that doesn’t require him to leave the house, when he’s a college drop-out with no qualifications or marketable skills. 

Kim’s bright plan was to become a YouTube sensation, get famous, and make it so none of his family ever has to work again. It doesn’t pan out quite that way. He does have and maintain a channel for his music, sharing recording equipment with Tankhun, but it’s small time. He does have a significant amount of subscribers; between that and his patreon, it’s not enough to live off of, but it’s enough for him to put himself through school. Anything extra he gets goes towards his family; Tankhun always tries to protest, but Kim can see the way some of the tension leaves his eyes when he doesn't have to worry about the month’s bills. Unlike the elder cousins, the closest Kim ever comes to sex work is playing his guitar shirtless on his patreon. Maybe a couple times people have offered to pay him for ~extra services~, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

Macau is still in high school. He tutors people for extra cash (read: does their assignments for a hefty fee) and helps Kim edit his music/videos. Wants to be a DJ someday. The two of them are close, as the babies of the family. Closer than Kim is to his own brothers, but the same can’t be said for Vegas; he and Macau are thick as thieves. 

One day Kinn gets a job as a personal bartender. He doesn’t bother trying to hide that he’s working for Porsche Kittisawat, and Kim isn’t shy about calling him a kept boy. He doesn’t begrudge his brother the choices he makes, he just wishes Kinn didn’t have to make them. Kinn puts up a good front, but Kim knows the craves the intimacy of a lasting relationship. He’s desperate for something real. To love and be loved. Kim is too jaded to stake any belief in finding something like that. 

Then he meets Chay. 

Chay is actually a fan of his. A very generous fan who regularly makes sizeable donations. Kim owes his upgraded recording equipment to Chay’s generosity, though he has no idea who his online benefactor is. 

Kim is local talent. Sometimes he gets called to play small shows every once in a blue moon. Kinn is pretty good at pulling the strings to get Kim booked at his club, courtesy of Porsche, who’s really making the offer on Chay’s behalf. It’s how Kim ends up meeting Chay. Not that he makes the connection. 

Chay is in the crowd, watching him with more interest than he thinks he’s earned. Kim thinks it’s regular attraction, the kind he’s used to. Used to it dropping off when people get to see the real him too; his pretty face isn’t enough to make up for his ugly life, especially when his personality isn’t enough to act as a buffer. Kim buys him a drink after the show anyway. They talk, they flirt, Chay admits to being a fan, which is nice. Kim’s never been recognized before. 

They start seeing each other. Kim still doesn’t connect Chay ro Kinn or to his favorite subscriber. Thanks to Kinn (and Chay’s) efforts, he keeps doing shows. Gets booked for better clubs as he proves himself able to handle it. He doesn't want to know what it cost his brother; he hopes it’s not too much, and Kinn always assures him he’s fine. He seems to mean it, and Kim is just selfish enough not to question it if it means his dream coming true. He starts promoting his shows online, and Chay is there at every one. Pretty soon that leads to seeing each other outside of shows, too, then going on dates. 

It’s building towards something. But before they can fall over that edge, Kim finds out about everything. The mafia, Chay’s subscription, Chay getting him these shows. All but paying for him. Kim is devastated. He knew better than to trust Chay from the start, it was too good to be true, and now look at what’s happened. 

He goes to his family. 

Tankhun, shrewd as ever, tells him it doesn’t change anything just because he knows now. Vegas, ruthless, tells him to use Chay for everything he’s worth until the money dries up. Macau thinks it’s romantic; that Chay admired him from afar, only for them to meet by chance and fall in love. Except they didn’t meet by chance, and Kim isn’t in love. 

Kinn understands, though. Kim didn’t expect him to. He didn’t give his brother enough credit. He thought Kinn would be like Vegas and Khun. Instead he tells Kim to follow his heart. He knows Kim isn’t like them, isn’t built for the kind of life where he can set aside his feelings and use someone else for his own gain. He’s too much of an artist for that. 

Kim tells all of this to Chay, who says that he doesn’t want to buy Kim, either. If Kim doesn’t return his feelings, that’s okay. They can go back to the way they were. They can be friends, or Chay can just be an anonymous name on a screen. He wants to be with Kim, but he doesn’t want to pay Kim to pretend with him. 

It’s exactly what Kim needed to hear. 

[drefear]

Marvel Master List

Miguel O’Hara

Sympathy (angst/smut)

Based on this ask, Miguel goes on a mission and hears some of his biggest fears become reality for this villain, then coming home to you.

Cheated (angst)

Reader thinks Miguel is cheating and has a panic attack.

Jealous (smut)

Miguel doesn't even like the idea of reader with anyone else.

Mine (fluff/light smut)

Miguel gets jealous and later makes sure reader knows who they belong with.

In a bar (light smut)

Miguel and reader meet in a bar, and hit it off.

Grabbing his boobs (fluff/funny ha ha)

This one is... self-explanatory.

Fangs (fluff/angst)

Miguel accidentally pricks the readeron his fangs and this makes him scared.

They Know (smut/funny ha ha)

Miguel and reader's secret romance is discovered by the others.

Back Stage (smut)

Rockstar!Miguel has a quicky with reader before a performance.

Art Reference (heavy smut) Part Two (heavy smut)

Drawing Miguel turns into something you never imagined would actually come true.

Ex’s Dad!Miguel (heavy smut/slight angst)

You ex's dad sees you at your a wedding and remembers you a little too well.

Major in English, Minor in Criminology (heavy smut, light violence)

Murderer!Miguel doesn't want to kill you, but you got in his way and now, he can't just let you leave.

Mon Cœur Caché (smut, violence, angst)

Overwatch/ATSV crossover- Reader is a talon agent and spies on Miguel.

Fly Me to the Moon (Angst, fluff)

Miguel and reader have a fight, and reader has a realization.

Written in Blood (smut, blood)

Reader meets the infamous vampire at his yearly party.

Series: Hail to the King (in progress) Mafia Boss! Miguel hires reader as his personal assistant and every day, more is uncovered.

prologue

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9 (coming soon…)

Mini Series: Kitten Licks (finished) Reader is Nueva York's Black Cat, and sadly, being a thief doesn't pay all of the bills, so a part-time job and a fling with hot coworker Miguel O'Hara is inevitable.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Mini Series: Sister's Mister (finished) Reader's siter dates popular boy on campus, Miguel O'Hara, unaware that Reader's been in love with him for a while.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Mini Series: Daddy Issues (finished) Reader's best friend, Gabriella, has a dad who seems to be a bit more than just a parental figure.

Part 1

Part 2

Pregnancy Epilogue

Rule Number Two Ask

Dre Fear Playlist

Fanfiction based on music

Miguel O’Hara

Heart Beat (nsfw / angst)

Distance -pt1 (light smut / heavy angst)

The Lonely -pt2 (heavy angst)

Nasty -pt1 (heavy smut)

Closer -pt2 (heavy smut)

Lightweight - pt1 (angst, smut, inspired by @ofherdesire )

I Hate U - pt 2 (angst, smut, inspired by @ofherdesire )

Loki Laufeyson

Escapism (some smut)

[gldrushsblog]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK FANFICTION

→ TEASER

synopsis: Aurora Beckett is as sweet as the cupcakes she makes and as bright as the morning sun that fills her bakery, the first thing in the morning. With a knack of making friends every chance she gets and putting them before her, she finds herself in trouble more than a friendly neighborhood baker should. Yet this time, the trouble came barging itself. Jeon Jungkook- the shadow syndic, a name whispered through the darkest corners of South Korea, feared like the devil himself. Certain circumstances lead him to her, and the next thing he knows, 5'4 "inches of pure headache is his self-proclaimed partner in crime. But when annoyance starts to twist into a need for the girl, who's everything he's not, he realizes that she is the one who's trouble.

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook × female oc

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy × sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/ thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: violent acts - including murder, physical confrontations, and threats of harm. Dark Themes – Themes of crime such as kindapping and human trafficking, power dynamics, moral ambiguity, mature language, characters experiencing physical and emotional abuse. Please continue with caution.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: Mafia boss Jungkook, peirced and tattooed jungkook, he is also a meanie, sociopath Jungkook, jungkook with a gun, RICH man, he kills people for a living or maybe for vengeance, oc and Jk both struggle from a traumatic past, oc is a cat person, oc is an extorvert, people pleaser oc, she is sick and tired of bills, oc is a daddys girl, oc may or may not have a tiny crush on the mafia boss, she is also a little reckless, sloooooooow burn, yearning and pining, a great amount of both from Jungkook's side until he eventually admits it and becomes a simp (he will be downnn horrendously bad), he fucks up at some point, angst angst and angst, but also angst with happy ending? eventual fluff after a longgg wait but it's tooth rotting so maybe it's worth it, eventual smut (maybe Idk man), protective Jungkook, he will die and kill for his people, possessive Jungkook, obsessive too, he is also kind of pathetic but his aura goes insane, oh and he also wears gloves 24/7

A/N: woah maybe this sounds kind of cliché but writing this brings me great joy and I hope you feel just the same if you choose to read it. This is my first time posting a silly work of mine to a public platform and I'm not really hoping for something big but genuine readers and friends I plan to make along the way. Thank you if you're reading this. I hope my words can be worth your time.

Also If you wanna get ahead, I have already posted 9 parts of this on my wattpad.

Thank you again. I will be starting to post here soon.

[mong---mong]

How You Met SKZ (Minho)

Sorry I haven't been active for a second on posting stories, I have them pre-written but Hyunjin's version seemed to not be seen so I was waiting for it to get views before I posted this one~! -x-x-x-x-

The moment you first walked into your restaurant that you were the head cook at, several men were looking at you. It was like you were entering a mafia meeting of some sort. 

Your eyes widen, as you slide on your slippers so you can walk to the kitchen. “Sorry, we reserved the building for the afternoon, no other customers can come in.” You were confused no one had reserved the building for this day.

“Who allowed this?” You said, your eyes turning into a glare. “Why does it matter, we reserved the restaurant!” The older gentlemen said again. This time getting up. “Father let the young lady eat in peace..” Another voice said, that’s when you saw Minho for the first time.

“I’m not here to-!” You started to get angry. Before your best friend, and co-chef Mina said. “Head chef you're here” she had entered the room and bowed to you. You saw the younger man’s eyes widen. You didn’t know why until the older man said.

“The head chef is a woman!?”  You dart your eyes over to him, “Correct I am!” You had a feeling as to where this was going. “Women are supposed to be cooking in the kitchen for their husbands, not for everyone!”

You rolled your eyes, and said, “I suggest that if you want to continue having your meeting here, you do not insult me!” You go back into the kitchen, and they did not bother you the rest of the afternoon, you close for evening prep.

Evening dinner went well, until someone requested you, you were so worried you did something wrong, you were freaking out. As you got out there you saw the young man from earlier. “My name is Lee Minho, and I’m here to apologize on behalf of my father, he was old fashioned and it was completely-!” He was bowing to you constantly, and while you appreciated the apology you interrupted. “Thank you, but please do not apologize on someone’s behalf, then the guilt and burden goes onto you..”

Minho’s eyes widened. “Well, if that is the case, here is the payment for reserving the building on late notice, plus a little bonus.”

Your eyes widen as he hands you a stack of 100 dollar bills, in hard cold cash. “This is way too much-!” You started to say, but as you looked up he was already gone. -x-x-x-x- My stories aren't biased, I just have different ideas for each story's

Have a wonderful day~!

[neontoad]

“You’re late,” Chuuya says when Dazai joins him at the table, the outdoor terrace of the cafe swarming with customers. Dazai props his chin on his hands and looks at Chuuya.

“You see me every day, anyway. Why does it matter if I’m a tiny bit late?”

A tiny bit, Chuuya thinks and rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth to ask him how on earth is 30 minutes “a tiny bit”, but his mind goes blank when Dazai puts his hand on top of his. 

“Awww, did chibi miss me?”

The brown eyes are looking at him with the tenderness that works like a truth serum, their irresistible shine making Chuuya forget what he was angry at in the first place.

Honestly… Yes. 

They might live together. They might wake up in each other’s embrace. They might be on each other’s minds all the time. 

Yet, when they are apart, it feels as if a part of Chuuya’s soul is missing, coming back together only when his hand is holding Dazai’s.  

“You wish,” Chuuya snaps, rosy tint painting his cheeks. 

He hates it that it’s so easy for him to stop being angry at Dazai. 

He loves it, too. 

He watches Dazai taste the seafood salad he ordered for him and his heart skips a beat when he sees how blissful his ex-partn- partn- boyfriend looks. Chuuya learned the hard way that with Dazai’s habit to be late every fucking time, he needs to order something cold for him. It seems to work. 

“You know, Dazai,” Chuuya says, squeezing Dazai’s hand, “isn’t it considered cannibalism? A mackerel eating seafood?”

“Nobody’s perfect, Chuuya.”

Chuuya cracks up, and Dazai’s eyes dart to the laugh lines in the corners of Chuuya’s eyes, his lips involuntarily curling into a smile. Chuuya catches his gaze and the blush on his face gets even more prominent. For a moment, Dazai forgets how to breathe. No matter how hard Chuuya tries to look stern, he’s the most gorgeous human being he’s ever seen, fragrant wisteria decorating the terrace complementing his beauty. 

Chuuya looks at his wristwatch and clicks his tongue. “I have to be back in the headquarters in 20 minutes.”

Dazai pouts and leans closer. “Will the Mafia collapse if their employee of the month decides to spend more time on his lunch break?”

“It’s not that easy for us to collapse. Unlike you, a bunch of goody-two-shoes.”

Chuuya used to roll his eyes when they first started going out for lunch together. “Rival organisations my ass,” he would scoff, paying the bill and choosing a cafe for the next time. 

Now, holding Dazai’s warm hand, he thinks that it wouldn’t hurt if he allowed himself to be late for once. 

He doesn’t look at his wristwatch at all for the rest of their meet- lun- date. 

Being a workaholic has never done anyone any good, anyway. 

[xvxblahhhxvx]

What if skk got caught in a bank holdup

A random idea/fanfiction by me.

Inspired by: the shower (truly, it's a magical place)

Because like, imagine, will you, that Dazai goes to the bank on his day off after payday, possibly looking to get some new bandages, and who should he come across but Chuuya, who is there to take out some money from a totally legitimate Port Mafia account. They'd probably bicker for a minute, Dazai would find at least three ways to insult the mafioso, who would then shout back at him, only to have everyone else in the bank shoot them strange looks, so he then resorts to whisper shouting. Until suddenly, the doors burst open, and in rushes five men with guns blazing, their faces obscured by masks. "This is a hold up!" they declare. Three of them usher all the bankgoers to one wall, forcing them to sit down quietly. And of course, if any of them try to call the police, they'd really get it. The other two deal with the clerks, getting them to open the vault, and no one gets hurt.

Meanwhile, Dazai and Chuuya are watching this play out with mild amusement. After one of them sticks a gun in Dazai's face and tells them to move it, they share a shrug and walk to the wall, plopping down criss-cross applesauce. The patrons are shaking. Some of them are crying, some are praying. Dazai folds his arms behind his head and leans back against the wall, suppressing the urge to yawn. Chuuya takes the opportunity to munch on a granola bar and observe the robbery with vague interest.

With his eyes closed, Dazai asks... "so...are you going to stop them, or...?"

"Nah," Chuuya answers between bites. "I haven't eaten much all day, so..." He turns to Dazai. "What about you? Aren't you the detective here?"

"Yeah, but it's my day off now. I don't want to work."

"Yeah, yeah, definitely know the feeling."

"Hey, you two!" shouts one of the thieves watching the hostages. "Be quiet!"

"Sorry." Neither of them sound particularly apologetic. They sit for a few more minutes. Dazai yawns and stretches. Chuuya finishes his granola bar. Nothing changes.

"What's taking them so long?" Chuuya mutters. He's starting to get annoyed. "Some of us have things to do, you know."

"This is actually really pathetic," comments Dazai. "We could have gotten double the money and been halfway back to the base by now, gone before the police even knew there was a threat."

"And we'd never do it like this," agrees the mafioso. "This is too loud, and it's got no class."

"Right? It's like begging for the police to come. And besides, this whole hostage situation is thin as paper. If they really wanted to intimidate people, they should have shot someone by now, prove they're serious."

"Those guns probably aren't even loaded."

"Honestly, this whole set up is awful. Truly amateurish."

"This whole thing would be much smoother if we did it. Maybe we should help them, just so they can get their money and leave the rest of us alone."

"That-"

"Hey!" shouts the same guard again. He points at Dazai, then at Chuuya. "What did I say about talking?! If you don't shut up-"

"No, you're doing it wrong," Dazai informs him.

"I...what?"

"If you really wanted to intimidate us, you should have fired off a warning shot, at the very least. Even if you're too coward to actually shoot a person, at least don't make it so obvious the thing's not even loaded."

Beads of sweat drip down the thief's face. "Huh?"

"And could you tell your friends there to hurry up?" adds Chuuya. "They're going to be caught at this rate. Obviously, the clerks are stalling. They're probably sticking in the lowest bills they have to give the bags some weight. It would be way more efficient to have one guy guarding the clerks and two of you doing it yourself."

"Just figure out the accounts with the most in them and take from there," Dazai suggests, standing up. "You'll get more and faster like that."

Chuuya rises as well. Now, the other two thieves who were supposed to be guarding the hostages come to back up their friend, pointing their guns directly at their heads. Dazai frowns.

"Hold on a second, can I see that? Thanks." He reaches out and grabs the nearest thief's gun, and before he even has a chance to protest, he opens up the magazine and shakes it.

"See? Empty. Would it really have been so hard to even find one bullet to put in there?"

From behind their masks, the burglars begin to panic. The public, now aware they're being held up by nothing, stand up angrily.

"And look!" Chuuya strides over behind the counter, where the clerks are supposed to be filling up bags with money. He takes one out of a male's clerk's hand and dumps it out on the floor. "All 1,000 yen bills. If you had just paid more attention, you could have made off with much more. And, now the police are coming."

Indeed, the sound of wailing sirens gets louder and louder. The thieves glance at each other. With a single nod, they turn on their heels and run.

"Not so fast!" All of the former hostages block the door. The thieves freeze, turning to Dazai fearfully. He shrugs.

"That's what happens when you don't back-up your claims. This is due to your own stupidity."

The public manages to easily restrain the thieves until the police arrive to take them away. As they're being dragged out, Dazai and Chuuya merely watch with their arms folded, shaking their heads and muttering to themselves.

"Disgraceful."

"What a sloppy job."

"Embarrassment to all criminals, really."

"Can't believe I had my time wasted with this crud."

"Hopefully, they'll do better next time."

"Yeah. If you're going to hold up a bank, at least do it well."

After the thieves are taken away, the police ask Dazai and Chuuya about what happened, since everyone says that they're the ones who stopped them. They answer with vague statements that amount to nothing, and leave the bank before they have to get more involved.

Neither of them speak much, each caught up in his own memories from the past. Eventually, Dazai decides to head back to his apartment, though not without giving one good jarb on Chuuya's height. In the end of the day, he supposed he did stop them. Well, as long as it didn't have to count as work-

The next day, both Chuuya and Dazai were required to make a report on the matter.

End.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Secrets

Summary: Your sweet boyfriend, a man who can’t get up when a cat sits on his lap and knows you like the back of his hand. Is more than just the sweetheart he is?

Fluff, Angst?, Mafia au, Secrets, Established Relationship au

Word Count: 1,968

Secret mafia boss! Hyungwon X Reader

[Mentions briefly: Minhyuk]

[A/n: @jinkoh and I couldn’t stop thinking of mafia boss! Hyungwon. And I absolutely had to write our thoughts into a fuller story. So please enjoy our brainrot~ And Kebbi, I hope this fulfills your brainrot as it did mine~ Lastly: thank you for checking over this, Kebbi! I appreciate it sm 🥺💖]

------

Like every other Wednesday since you started dating Hyungwon, you’re heading to meet him at the cafe where you had your first date. And now you both meet up there before walking around a bit before heading to one of your homes and watching movies together. You get outside the cafe entrance to see him walking out with your two coffees in his hands. He smiles as he hands you yours, “I got you your favorite~” You grin and thank him before sipping on it. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, “So, how’s my baby been?” You smile, “I’ve been okay.” He pouts, “Just okay?” You sigh, “Do you remember that debut I told you about before?” “Of course I do. What about it?” “They’ve raised my rate by another twenty, and I was going to use that extra money to buy some records. And you’d think I’d already have paid it off by now, but the interest rates have been so high.” He lets out an “Oh,” and you look over at him, and he says, “I’ve dealt with horrible lenders before. It’s hard to hear you going through the same thing.” You shrug, “I suppose it’s okay, it’s just twenty bucks. Maybe by my next bill, I’ll have it paid off!” He smiles and clicks your coffee cups together, “Heck yeah!” 

You smile, “So, how has your business been going?” He hums, “We have more money coming in now, and that’s nice.” You agree, and he leads you to a park bench, “Why do we always seem to end up at this bench?” He gives you an eye smile, “You know why.” You laugh, “It’s where we met.” He removes his arm around your shoulder to hold your hand in his. You lay your head against his shoulder, and he leans his head on top of yours. You chat quietly, taking in the early afternoon air. His phone rings, and he parts from you, “Do you mind if I take this?” You shake your head no, and he gets up from the bench and discusses in hushed whispers. 

You wait for him to return, and he has a small pout playing on his face, “I have to go…” You pout back and go, “No, it’s our only day together until our date next week on Saturday…” He nods, and you get up from your seat. And he goes, “They really need me there. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You cross your arms over your chest, and in a faux stern voice, you say, “You better.” He laughs and kisses your forehead. You hold up your pinky and lock them, and he presses your thumbs together. “I promise.” You kiss his nose, “I know you will. I love you.” You let go of your hold. And he pulls you into a tight hug, “I’ll see you later.” You smile as you hug him tightly back, “You will.” And with that, you part ways, much too early for your liking, but you shrug when duty calls you must attend. 

---

When you sat in your debt collector’s office the following day, pulling out the cash to pay him, he told you, “Your loan is paid in full. You don’t owe me anything this month or after.” You couldn’t believe your ears, “What?” He shrugs and goes, “Actually, I owe you some back pay.” You blink at him, trying to process it, “Huh?” And he pulls out a small yellow envelope, “Yeah, you’ve paid over a grand more than you owe.” He must be out of his mind! He just raised the rate last week! You scowl, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t.” You shake your head, “No. Tell me what the catch is.” “There is none.” You glare, “Let me talk to your boss.” His eyes get big, “No one ever talks to him.” You shrug, “Well, I’m not just anyone. I want to know why you’re forgiving my loan.” 

He sighs, giving up, “Okay, but I warn you, he didn’t give me an explanation either.” You look at him, baffled, “What do you mean?” He shrugs, “He walked past me, looked at my records, and recounted them. He threw out your file and told me that your loans were forgiven. Then he gave me a thousand to give back to you.” You huff, “That doesn't make any sense.” He sighs, “You and me both.” “Can I please speak with your boss?” “I guess.” He has you follow him through the several-story building. As you approach the top floor, he says, “I’ll warn you again. He won’t tell you.” You sigh, “Well, I at least have to try.”  

He opens the door to the seventh floor, walks over to the entrance of the penthouse office, and knocks. You hear a loud voice boom, “What do you want?” Your debt collector’s voice is weak as he says, “Someone is asking you to explain why you forgave their loans.” A gruff voice says, “Come in.” Your loan shark goes in and gestures for you to follow him. The person is holding a newspaper with their legs kicked up on the desk without a care. He puts his newspaper down, and that’s when you see him. He’s wearing a long leather jacket, with leather pants and steel-tipped boots. He must have yelled at the guy to “Get out” because your collector is scampering out past you. But all you can see is that your once soft and sweet boyfriend is now your debt collector’s cruel and rash boss. 

In a blur, he’s up from his chair and standing before you, tucking your hair behind your ear, “How did you get here, dear?” You want to be angry. You want to be livid. But you're at a loss for words. How is your sweetheart a loan shark boss? He never specified his business, but this is what he does? He waits for you to gather your thoughts, and you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, “This isn’t the type of secret you tell someone you wish to keep safe.” You sigh, you find that so sweet and kind. Just like the Hyungwon you’ve always known. But he’s different? He has a commanding air around him now. And if looks could kill, your debt collector would have been dead. Yet here he is, trying to protect you from his truth to keep you safe. 

He waits for you to say something, searching your eyes for questions so he can answer them. With another minute of staring into each other’s eyes. He asks, “Would you like me to explain it over coffee?” And you ask quietly, “Will you explain everything?” He nods, “Everything you wish to know.” He looks over at his coffee pot, “Would you like to do it here or at our place?” You look around the room. It feels suffocating, “Our place.” He puts his hand out to you, and you carefully take it, wondering how this is your man. As you reach the main door, the rain starts pitter-pattering as your heart has since entering his building. 

He grabs an umbrella from a stand, and outside the door, he opens it, shielding you both from the rain. “So um, are my loans really forgiven?” He nods, “Yeah.” You ask, “And the grand?” “Backpay, you were right. You've already paid off your loan. He was making a profit off of you.” “Is that why your business has been so great?” He laughs, “No,” and nudges you as he says, “Well… Maybe a little.” You shake your head at him, “Have your ‘lenders’ forgiven other loans?” He nods, “Yeah.” 

He opens the door to the cafe and shuts his umbrella. You hear a bubbly voice go, “You two are never here on a Friday. What a pleasant surprise!” Minhyuk smiles as he goes, “Usual?” You nod with a small smile, and Hyungwon says, “Bring them over to us. I’ll pay later.” He nods, and you head to a booth in the back. “Are you sure you want to know more?” You nod, “I want you to explain everything.” Minhyuk comes over with your coffee. Hyungwon says something softly to him, and he quickly exits, changing the open sign to closed. 

“Is he a part of this operation, too?” He nods, “A different faction. He just does this job for fun. He’s really a florist. But we’re on the same sort of team.” You sigh, “Damn, even our coffee guy.” He laughs, “You don’t seem to be taking it as hard now?” You shrug, “Well, honestly, I’m not sure how to take it. My soft sweetheart is a hardened criminal.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah…” You put your hand over his hand that’s resting on the table. “I have no reason to fear, right?” He shakes his head, “I’ll never put you in harm’s way.” 

You nod, and after a pause, “So, are you really a mafia boss?” He laughs, “In my faction, yeah, but there is someone above me. He’s a good guy, though.” You hum and ask, “I was wondering… Is it common for you to profit from people’s loans?” He grimaces, “Yeah… But I usually catch the loans when their time is up.” You tilt your head, “Why didn't you catch mine?” He drinks a sip of his coffee before brushing a hand through his hair, “I’ve been more focused on being with you than checking on the little details.” 

You shake your head, smiling at him, “So, did you evaluate everyone’s?” He wrinkles his nose, “Not yet.” You sigh, “Won…” He pouts, “It’s partially on you.” You cross your arms over your chest, “But it’s because of me that you remembered a part of your job.” He sighs, “You have me there.” You ask, “Shouldn’t you be doing monthly checks?” He nods, “It’s actually bi-weekly checks because of how many we have, so it’s easier to spread them out across the month.” “And what day did you usually do these?” He averts his eyes, “Wednesdays.” You shake your head at him and tease, “Ditching your duties to be with little ole me, huh?” He laughs, “Exactly, I’d much rather be with you than in that stuffy room.” You nod, “Me too.” He smiles and flips his hand over to hold your hand in his. 

You sigh, “I didn’t expect to see you today…” He laughs, “Same here. I didn’t want you to find out like this.” You squeeze his hand after sipping your coffee, “It’s okay. It’s better than finding out when your guns are blazing.” He laughs, “Yeah, I guess so.” You fiddle with his fingers, and he asks, “Are you still okay with dating me?” You squeeze his hands, “Yeah. You’re different from what I expected, but I’m content with that.” He brings his lips to the top of your hand, “I’m glad I love you.” You smile, flip your hands, and kiss his hand, “I love you too.” 

You sip on your coffee for a while. Just taking it all in before a question pops into your head, “So when will I get to meet the rest of your crew?” He sighs, “I knew you were gonna ask that.” You wait, and he goes, “Whenever you wish, my dear.” You smile, “Okay~” He looks over at the clock in the building, “Technically, it’s quitting time now. Would you like to make up for yesterday?” You smile, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You leave after paying and waving goodbye to Minhyuk, who yells to Hyungwon, “You better flip the sign over!” Hyungwon laughs and does as asked before heading to your place to finish your belated date.

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 7 (Diablo)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

Note: Beware, for this chapter delves into the realm of blood, gore, and dangerous behaviors.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Ninety-one days had passed since your arrival, each marking a change since reluctantly accepting Vash's offer of "friendship." Like within your confined existence, your cage had been expanded, granting you the limited freedom to venture beyond the walls of your room. Now, you could escape to the basement, where worn couches beckoned, accompanied by the flickering glow of an ancient CRT TV from a forgotten era. See? Fantastic! You were living in fairytales. Just like a fucking Disney princess. But a twisted one. Alas, the poisoned apple that would offer release remained out of reach, denied to you. No window to hell adorned this crypt-like domain, where your flowing locks could serve as a desperate escape route. Instead, you were left with the daunting task of perpetuating a charade, playing the role of a captive sleeping beauty trapped in the clutches of a formidable beast.

Too poetic, right? Fuck it!

And let's not forget about how you must be the most ungrateful bitch alive for complaining when your new bestie, Vash, occasionally graced you with his presence for a shared meal. Despite the gesture, conversations were superficial at best, revolving around banal topics like the weather or insipid inquiries about the quality of the food. Consequently, meals were typically consumed in silence unless Vash had a particular matter to discuss, leaving you with the role of a passive listener.

Because you had discovered that the majority of his sentences were intentionally crafted, and you made a firm commitment to yourself. You vowed not to allow him to deceive you anew with his clever words, determined to remain vigilant against his manipulative charm.

Charm, huh!

As the saying goes, you didn't provide him much in this fervently pursued friendship, yet he persisted regardless. Every time he visited, motherfucker arrived bearing gifts – be it a novel flavor of donuts, fresh garments, or a book intended to captivate your attention. You couldn't help but notice the intentional variety of genres in the books he presented. This left you with a sense that he was endeavoring to elicit a reaction from you in order to gain insight into your inner world.

But you would rather die than give him anything.

And then there were days like today's lunch, a departure from the norm; he appeared before you in a meticulously tailored black coat, exuding an air of opulence with its flawless texture and lustrous sheen. His ensemble was further enhanced by a black shirt and a crimson red vest adorned with regal patterns, resulting in a sleek and sophisticated appearance. However, despite this refined presentation, his silky black tie hung loosely around his neck, a visible symbol of his frustration. With a face etched with determination, he grappled with the delicate task of tying its knot, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he attempted various techniques, all in vain. The scene was indeed amusing, as you found yourself engrossed in crafting origami ships out of folded napkins, observing his relentless struggle with a hint of lighthearted entertainment.

At times, he possessed a sweet, childlike quality. Although the thought of witnessing him inadvertently strangle himself brought some perverse entertainment, you learned from the guards that today marked the twins' birthday. Since when did monsters celebrate birthdays? With a resigned sigh, you let out a breath. Extending your hand, you retrieved the tie from him. Without uttering a word or offering commentary, he simply observed as you skillfully tied the knot on your knee before returning it to him. A seemingly perfect birthday gift, or so you hoped. Whatever! Fuck him!

Thank Gods he was silent today. He gazed at the tie momentarily, expressing gratitude before taking the plate full of origamis and bidding farewell with a smile, leaving the grand scene. Weird man!

After his footsteps had receded into silence, his subordinates diligently secured the door, taking utmost care as they locked it three times over.

It was probably before midnight when a sudden thump from above shattered the fragile tranquility of your restless sleep, wrenching you away from a state of hazy slumber that had enveloped your mind. As you blinked your eyes open, the closed door before you became the sole object of your attention, your gaze fixated on its faint outline while your mind struggled to process the startling sound.

Somehow, your heart raced ahead, the muscle beating rapidly within your chest, as a wave of unease caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. With caution, you gradually sat upright and slipped out from under the comforting embrace of the covers.

Adrenaline was coursing through your system now, instantly jolting you awake. A cloud of unease rolled in the pit of your stomach, casting a shadow over your senses. With trembling limbs, you rose from your bed, a sudden chill enveloping you and causing your skin to ripple with goosebumps. Shivering involuntarily, you mustered the courage to slowly open the door, cringing at the piercing creak that echoed through the air.

The sound could have been anything. It could have been the clatter of the guards accidentally shattering a foolishly placed vase, or shit, even a couple of ghosts roughhousing. After all, considering the grim history of the house, which had witnessed countless brutal demises, such possibilities were not entirely far-fetched. Nevertheless, an indescribable intuition gnawed at your gut, forewarning that an impending calamity loomed on the horizon.

Were they mere thieves, opportunists daring to exploit the near emptiness of the house to pilfer its trove of antiques? If that were the case, where were the supposedly vigilant guards?

No, that couldn't be.

It stretched the bounds of coincidence to believe that strangers would intentionally target the abode of a notorious mafia boss for a mere burglary.

Shaking like a leaf, you adamantly resisted the urge to succumb to fear and let it trap you in this wretched room. Summoning your resolve, you swiftly toggled the switch in the basement, causing the feeble illumination from the few functioning lights to flicker to life. The staircase materialized before you, partially shrouded in darkness, playing tricks on your mind as it conjured phantom figures lurking just beyond the reach of the light. With measured steps, you cautiously advanced towards the stairs, and to your surprise, you discovered that the metallic door stood unlocked—

And then, some was behind you.

You knew this because the frigid contact of the gun pressed against the back of your head was an undeniable reality coursing chilling sensation down your spine.

"Raise your hands, and don't do anything hasty, girl."

A sense of time dilation took hold as the world around you appeared to decelerate. You felt immobilized, unable to move a muscle. The voice that reached your ears was distinct and didn't belong to Vash or anyone you had encountered thus far, leaving you hesitant and unable even to blink. Every fiber of your being urged you to yield as your instincts clamored for compliance. After all, it was clearly not a propitious moment for acting like a dumb bitch.

"Hey, Neon!" the unfamiliar voice bellowed, causing you to flinch involuntarily at the sheer volume. "Take a look at what those fuck up twins are hiding in the basement."

As you pressed your lips tightly together, a whirlwind of apprehension and anxiety churned within you. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, their salty sting teasing the corners of your eyes as you fixated on the man descending the staircase, his attire shimmering in the dim light. He approached you, his steps deliberate and measured, until he stood before you, his eyes alight with a disgusting gleam. And with perfect clarity, you watched him slowly shake his head at you. Warning you not to do what you were about to do. You stared at the hard lines of his face, fear steadily trickling through your body at an alarming rate.

He harshly cupped your chin in his hand, his touch threatening to break your jaw. His voice resonated with a twisted sense of captivation as he declared, "We came to take those brothers shine away," his words dripping with morbid fascination. "And behold, what a flashy gem they unknowingly concealed within this box. Such a shame! Beings like you ought to be showcased for all to revel in."

This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.

Yes! Of course! Your stupid fucking brain must be a bit too imaginative tonight, but aside from that, this was hardcore real. If these intruders had managed to advance this far, it stood to reason that the guards had met their demise as well. So this was going to be your almighty end? No fucking thank you.

*

Much like Vash's previous visit, it felt like walking through a portal to hell when he walked into this club. It was stifling in here, the air so full of depravity and sickness that it was a physical weight on his shoulders. Jesus fucking Christ. He felt like he needed a goddamn gas mask to shield himself from the repulsive atmosphere surrounding him.

Their birthday party was immersed in an aura of chaos, defined by its dark theme. The pulsating bass of the music enveloped the surroundings as if originating from within his chest, which he had never immensely grown accustomed to the deafening volume of such venues. Fuckers! Shut the shit down!

Girls gracefully danced around the crowd of drunk revelers, blending sensuality and artistry, captivating the onlookers. The air was saturated with the scent of alcohol, intermingling with the thumping beats that reverberated throughout the place.

Seated in the expansive main area, the layout unfolded before him as an open concept. The ambiance was dimly lit, casting an aura of foreboding. Unlike those in the shady strip clubs downtown, the black marble floors gleamed as brilliantly as his recently polished shoes. The walls, painted a deep shade of blood red, remained devoid of creepy artwork, but plenty of creeps had occupied the booths and tables surrounding the stage.

His gaze fixated on a woman twirling around the pole, humping it to the beat while money was thrown on the stage. Shifting in his seat, he leisurely stretched his arms across the back of the couch, his legs casually spread apart. He might be dead inside, but his desires were pretty alive. The influence of alcohol was unmistakable, evident in his slight swaying and the dulled state of his senses due to the intoxicating haze. Nevertheless, amid the clamor of the party, a subtle irritation flickered across his countenance, adding a touch of annoyance to his features.

This side of the club was filled with couches and tables. Men had lounged on the couches with women draped over their laps and rubbing their tits in their faces. A full bar was where several men sat, drinking glasses of alcohol. Probably fifty-thousand-dollar Scotch that tasted like ass. Then again, they probably enjoyed that taste since they thought their farts smelled like flowers.

Women in revealing attire roamed the room, circulating among the crowd, serving drinks and feigning laughter at the patrons' feeble attempts at humor. Merely ten feet from where Vash was seated, a woman stood beside a man, extending her bare arm as the asshole callously extinguished his lit cigar on her skin. Smoke hissed and curled from the contact, yet she didn't move an inch. In fact, she didn't even flinch.

Upon closer observation, Vash discerned a blank expression on the woman's face, mirroring the detachment exhibited by the pole dancer gyrating provocatively on the stage. The pungent scent of singed flesh permeated the vicinity, lingering in the air. To Vash's dismay, one dickhead even waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically as if it was her fault it smelled.

Her arm fell limply to her side as she remained motionless, her gaze glazed and distant. Vash's attention was drawn to the entirety of her arm, which bore a multitude of burn scars—some old, others fresh—each at varying stages of healing and plenty of fresh burns from tonight.

Cigarettes and burn scars.

You.

Your scars.

The music pumping through the speakers was everywhere, though not to the extent of drowning out his thoughts. Anger erupted within him, intensifying as he questioned why his mind, in such an environment, was fixated on you. Pain in the ass!

Once again, his gaze fell upon the girl. For sure, she had been drugged. So, for a moment, out of anger, he thought of getting up and burning the man's hand with a lighter, but he was no goddamn hero. Even he, himself, was not significantly different from those around him.

"Mr. Saverem, how can I help you?" a blonde woman asked, leaning on him till her nipples were almost in his mouth if he hadn't pulled his head away. She wore a plain, loose black top and a mini skirt, with nondescript heels and her hair pulled back into a tight bun. Standing positioned between Vash's legs, she awaited his response.

The familiar vacant expression adorned her face, signaling that she, like the others, had fallen prey to the effects of being drugged. It became evident to Vash that they were all victims of this manipulation, a taste that Kni seemed to favor. He questioned himself, wondering why he had even entertained the notion of anything different in this grim situation.

"Where's Kni?"

"Who?" the girl asked, her confusion evident as she straightened her posture slightly.

Vash contemplated shifting his leg, but upon noticing the girl's lack of response, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. In a swift reaction, she promptly retreated, creating some distance between them. "Where is your master, Knives?"

"Oh," she said, as if newly remembering. "Your brother is in the VIP—" Before she could finish her sentence, Vash was on his feet, navigating his way through the throng of grinding couples, drunk girls getting molested, and obnoxious douchebags drenched in excessive cologne with a mountain of gel in their hair. For fuck's sake, one even parted his button-up to proudly show off the gold chain hanging over his hairy, overly tanned chest.

From both sides, unsettling gazes from men and women fixated upon him as the sound of bass-heavy music filled the air, originating from somewhere ahead. Determinedly, he made his way toward the hallway. This section boasted opulent gold-tiled flooring, foreboding black walls, and an obscenely extravagant chandelier. Men in suits, whose names he wished to erase from memory, greeted him with disconcerting smiles, still riding the high from raping a poor girl or boy. To him, they all appeared indistinguishably repugnant.

As he arrived at the VIP section, Vash noticed that the bass had mellowed in intensity. Positioned on a crescent-shaped couch, Kni sat with his legs spread apart while a bartender enthusiastically bounced up and down on his lap while his head was kicked back with his eyes closed. The bartender's skirt was hitched up, her thong pulled aside, leaving her pussy exposed, eating up Kni's cock all the way down. This wasn't new for Vash. He had seen worse.

The presence of white powders streaked across the glass table made it evident that Vash's twin was high on cocaine. Meanwhile, Kni's devoted dog, Legato, sat on the opposite side of the room, probably for the first time receiving treatment from a girl and only because Kni probably had paid for it. Vash arched a brow, unimpressed with how low Legato's girl had to bounce. Little dick! Luckily, his partners never had that issue.

Letting out a sigh, he retreated into the shadows, and it took him five minutes to get out of this godforsaken place until he reached the table where the girl with cigarette burn scars was seated.

"Gentlemen, my apologies, but this one is off-limits for tonight," Vash snarled, his eyes ablaze with fury. With a single glance, she recoiled and shrank into herself while the other men chuckled mockingly.

"Excellent choice, birthday boy," Ruth, one of Kni's men, mumbled, casting a hungry gaze upon her, akin to a famished person with a plate full of food after weeks of deprivation. "She's got a delicious pussy."

"How coincidental! I had the very same thought," Vash retorted directly to the man, who chuckled heartily, relishing the idea of a woman being objectified. The old fuck!

Vash firmly seized the woman's arm, yanking her close to his body and forcefully pulling her away. Though she didn't resist with great strength, the instinct of self-preservation gradually emerged, battling against the haze of drugs within her system. Nevertheless, she had long accepted her fate.

Upon reaching a secluded room, he shifted his focus towards her. To his astonishment, she had already descended to her knees, her eyes fixed upon him with a blend of sorrow and surrender.

She possessed a captivating beauty, with lustrous brown hair, enchanting grass-green eyes, and freckles adorning her nose. There was a quality about her that bore a slight resemblance to you, and immediately, he felt a burning urge to storm back outside and crush his fist in Ruth's face just for touching her.

"Get up," Vash stated firmly. She rose to her feet with unsteady movements, resembling a baby giraffe taking its tentative first steps. "I'm going to get you out of here," he assured her, determination evident in his voice.

A crease formed on her forehead, and her expression turned into a frown. "Sir—" she started to say, her voice conveying a sense of unease or apprehension.

"How would you feel about getting a fresh start in life, yeah?"

Her eyes widened as if the idea of breaking free from her current situation began to dissipate the haze of drugs clouding her gaze. However, a sense of wariness replaced her initial glimmer of hope, eventually giving way to resignation. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes as she looked down, seemingly gathering herself. "I understand what that entails. I-I apologize. I am here to fulfill your desires, sir. Please, grant me the opportunity to bring you pleasure—"

"I have no intention of causing you harm or taking your life," Vash interjected firmly, emphasizing each word.

"But-but you're Vash Saverem."  

The weight of her words slapped him hard, realizing the understandable skepticism the girl held towards his intentions. He couldn't blame her; he wouldn't trust a fuck up like himself. "I'm going to help you, but I need you to listen to exactly what I say."

She shifted uneasily on her feet, glancing up at him with nervousness, her head nodding vigorously. Vash swiftly retrieved his phone and dialed Livio's number, waiting for him to answer. With only a few words exchanged, Vash explained the dire situation at hand. It took fifteen minutes of coordination before a car was arranged to pick her up. During that time, the girl shared details about her family. She spoke of his father battling cancer. She revealed that she resorted to this line of work to cover the mounting medical expenses. However, she confessed her uncertainty about the worthiness of it all if it meant risking her life and the abrupt cessation of the additional income.

Never again would she have to bear the burden of caring for her family or endure the torment of cigarette burns, Vash promised.

As she approached the door, ready to enter the car, Vash grasped her wrist. A nondescript black sedan stood just two feet away, its door already swung open, beckoning her inside.

"Hey," he spoke calmly, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "I need you to promise me something," he continued. "Never discuss this matter with anyone, alright? I have the memory of an elephant, especially with faces. Understood?"

She would never see the wrong end of Vash's gun, even if she did tell, but it would make his life much more complicated if she knew that.

"Okay," she responded softly. "You're a very good man, Mr. Saverem." A solitary tear escaped her eye, which she quickly wiped away before nodding. Her brightened eyes shone with hope, and doing this shit was all worth it when he had her look at him like that. He still didn't consider himself a hero, but it was his birthday night, and he was allowed to do whatever fuck he wanted. None of anybody's business.

*

Stepping out of his vintage black cherry Mercury Cougar, Vash stretched his neck, his muscles taut with pent-up tension. Scanning his surroundings, he suddenly snapped out of a daze and realized the absence of doormen in front of the gate. Upon further scrutiny, he also noticed the guards at the entrance were nowhere to be seen. This felt off. The night had an unsettling aura, akin to being trapped in a metallic chamber, just waiting for the bullet to ricochet and hit him somewhere vital.

Couldn't this fucking night just end?

Vash proceeded cautiously through the back entrance. His movement abruptly stopped when he glanced to his left and spotted a pair of men clad in flashy attire—the notorious Bad Lad Gang members. Exhaling a sigh of relief, a slight burden lifted from his shoulders, confirming they weren't mercenaries. This meant there was a higher likelihood of you still being alive. Shaking his head, he retrieved his gun and screwed the silencer piece with precision.

However, his momentary relief evaporated when he overheard the words that escaped their vulgar mouths.

"Why are we wasting time?" one of the men inquired impatiently.

"That bitch refused to come with us. Who the hell would choose to stay in captivity instead of taking a chance at escape?" one of the men sneered. "I mean, we may not be saints, but we're still better than those Saverems. The van is already prepared for departure."

Vash's posture snapped into rigid attention, his body becoming as stiff as if cement had been injected into his spinal cord. The realization hit him like a sudden jolt—you had chosen not to go. Good girl.

"What if they return?" the man attempted to appease the situation.

"We've got our guys infiltrated into their birthday party. Big brother is all drugged up, surrounded by his crew, and the other is busy with a hostess in the back. Even if they do come back, Neon said he'll use her as leverage to secure our freedom and more money," the man explained confidently.

"But we don't even know who she is! She hasn't uttered a single word. How can we be certain that she's worth anything?" another man interjected.

"She must hold some significance if Diablo has her locked up. Neon is doing his best to coax her into talking. I hope he finishes soon because, judging by the brutal scars on Diablo's body, I definitely wouldn't want to cross paths with the younger Saverem," the man remarked with a shudder.

The first man casually waved his hand, dismissing his friend's very valid concerns. "He ended up with those scars because he was weak," he remarked callously.

Vash's laughter erupted soundlessly, his head thrown back and shoulders convulsing with mirth as he absorbed the twisted assumption made by the man. His laughter resonated through the confined space, intertwining with the eerie sounds that permeated the desolate house. The heads of the four men snapped towards him, their faces drained of color as if their worst nightmares had come to life. Soon enough, they would realize that he occupied the very throne of terror, and their nightmares would kneel before him, for he was a far greater abomination than any monster they could fathom.

Entering the room, Vash's grin broadened as he observed their instinctive recoil. Swiftly, before they could even reach for their weapons, Vash eliminated three of them. Dead. Easy peasy!

"Diablo—" the man who had previously exuded confidence began, his voice filled with unease and surprise.

"Do you want to know how old my scars are? Very old. They bear witness to battles against formidable adversaries. But let me enlighten you on who sprawled on the floor, their throats slit, and eye sockets hollowed out. It certainly wasn't me, you bastard," Vash retorted with a menacing edge.

The man attempted to dismiss Vash's story with a choked laugh. "Saverem, please, we weren't talking about you or your girl," he rasped out, his voice strained and broken.

His girl.

You? His girl? Huh!

"The worst mistake you could make is lying to me," Vash said, a flicker of anger seeping into his gaze as he advanced. Trespassing into his domain was one thing, but attempting to steal his precious asset was an entirely different offense. "Neon is your boss, right? Where is he?"

"Please—I have kids. Ple—"

Vash closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath, and reopened them with a resolute gaze. " I'm not gonna repeat myself," he stated firmly, raising his gun to the man's forehead.

"B-B-Basement," the man stammered, his fear causing him to lose control. Vash couldn't help but find the man's demeanor pathetic, almost on the verge of peeing on his floor. What an ass!

"How many of you are inside?" Vash inquired, his hand delving into his pocket to count the bullets. Unsure it was disheartening to anticipate needing them even on his birthday or if he should find solace in having them for such an occasion, he embraced the latter. This was not a time for sadness. A sense of contentment washed over him, knowing his trusty, cold companions of metal bullets were beside him wherever he went.

"About twenty-five," the man replied. Not an insignificant number, but not particularly formidable either. With that, Vash wasted no time. He pulled the trigger, firing at the man, and without pausing to witness his collapse, he dashed through the doorway.

*

The crackling of parquet beneath his feet revealed his path leading towards the basement. The lifeless figure of the last person he had dispatched lay near the staircase, likely retaining some residual warmth. Vash shook his clenched fists, feeling the restlessness entwining his nerves into tight knots.

In the basement, Vash discovered a strategically positioned group of five armed men, three more on their six and four on their twelve. Cracking his neck, he savored the sensation of bones popping, finding solace in the release of tension and the subsequent relaxation of his shoulders. Fucking long night.

Taking down twelve men wouldn't pose a significant challenge for Vash as long as he executed his moves swiftly and stealthily. After cutting off the power, he knew disabling the guards surrounding the mansion would be easier. Finding a spot hidden in the shadows took two seconds, giving him the perfect shot angle. Their mistake was relying on their limited eyesight for intruders. His ability to hide in the shadows was what ultimately got them killed. They should have equipped themselves with night vision goggles. What fools! Maybe then he would have found a bit of entertainment in the encounter.

Slinking up to the door, he pressed his shoulder against the wall, ensuring his footsteps remained silent. With deftness, he turned the handle and smoothly slipped through the partially opened door, his body passing through the narrow gap. The metal door closed noiselessly behind him, bringing him one step closer to you.

The muffled screams of "NO" reached Vash's ears, the sound of your fights piercing his consciousness. White-hot rage blinded his vision; however, he knew better than to rush in recklessly or lose his fucking shit. No one could afford to succumb to their emotions in this situation; otherwise, you would never be rescued. It wasn't easy to maintain composure, though. These assholes had a way of bringing out the worst in him.

Keeping to the shadows, he made his way through the hallway; peering around the corner, he spotted you. The man who appeared to be the leader of this group of varmints had leaned in close to you, trapping your legs between his. The audacity! This was his spot!

Vash clenched his fists, the tension intensifying until his hands grew numb, and he drew his gun from its holster. He knew that once the first man fell, the remaining enemies would unleash a barrage of gunfire. That's why he needed to proceed with caution and quickness. While it was difficult to gauge how they would treat your safety, they might have valued their trump card's life above all else. However, some of these men were more concerned about self-preservation, which meant you could become an easy target for stray bullets.

As Vash had guessed, three men stood guard before him, blissfully unaware of his presence. Stupid fucks. He couldn't help but scoff at their ignorance. How could people be oblivious to the imminent danger lurking right under their noses? It baffled him to no end.

With precise movements, Vash dispatched all three men in quick succession. Their bodies collapsed to the ground while the remaining five men in the basement pit turned their heads in tandem, their faces morphing from surprise to alarm to anger in seconds. In a frantic scramble, they reached for their firearms. Meanwhile, Vash remained concealed behind the protective cover of the wall. Two men opened fire, forcing him to retreat and seek safer ground.

A bullet grazed the corner of the wall, narrowly missing Vash's face. Chunks of concrete scattered, stinging his eyes as the onslaught of bullets continued to zip around him. He grunted in response, reflexively massaging his eyelids to dispel the chaos and restore clarity to his vision.

Just as Vash readied himself for the next encounter, a man came charging around the corner, oblivious to his impending fate. Without hesitation, Vash swiftly killed him with a precisely aimed shot, leaving a neat hole between his brows. He was an ugly motherfucker, anyway. The world would do just fine without him. Before the lifeless body could crumple to the ground, Vash seized him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Despite the repugnant odor emanating from the rotting wound on the man's face, Vash used him as a shield, stepping out of the hallway and utilizing the dead man's body as a barrier against the bullets that continued to rain down upon him.

The lifeless body absorbed a few hits as Vash skillfully fired two single shots, taking down two more adversaries. With a calculated move, he stepped back into the hallway, pushing away the bloodied man, now riddled with bullets. The man's head made a sickening thud as it collided with the wooden floor. Vash had briefly used him as a shield for five seconds, but he knew he had been fortunate. It wasn't like the movies. Bullets could easily penetrate through bodies, making such tactics risky and unpredictable. Typically, Vash avoided using others as shields unless absolutely necessary, and even then, only for brief moments to gain a tactical advantage.

He reloaded his gun as a chorus of noises raised in the basement in the form of terrified screams and yells of panic from the men, ordering to "kill the puta."

With six men remaining, Vash could sense the panic crawling off them. The threat reverberated as one of them shouted, his voice echoing, "Come out with your hands raised and your gun on the floor, or I'll kill your bitch!"

Vash let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the situation. Knowing they knew his weakness, he reluctantly complied with their demand. He dropped his gun onto the floor and emerged with his hands raised. The six men positioned themselves between him and you. The bitter knowledge that they were only doing so to ensure the bait wasn't damaged rather than giving a shit about hurting you burned hot in his chest. Despite the circumstances, he maintained a taunting smirk on his lips as he addressed them, "Come on, the fun was just starting." However, the lack of visibility prevented him from gauging your current state. The burning question lingered: Were you okay?

"Shut up!" the boss spat. He was a Latino man with an unconventional hairstyle adorned with tattoos that covered his entire body. He wore clothes that made him seem like he had raided a circus wardrobe. This must be Neon, the leader of the gang Vash had been hunting. It was a pleasure to meet you finally, dead man!

Neon's eyes were wide with fear, and based on the crack pipes scattering on the table behind him, Vash'd say most of them were high off their rockers. Not so good. Trigger-happy and fueled by their drug-induced state, they were unpredictable and prone to impulsive actions. And he got six of those happy fingers on triggers. "Who told you we are in your house?" Neon shouted, emphasizing his question with a wave of his gun.

Vash responded with a dry tone, "I felt your stench."

Neon raised his gun above his head and fired a shot, attempting to intimidate Vash. See? Trigger happy. However, Vash remained unfazed by the act, showing no signs of flinching or fear. Instead, he took the opportunity to carefully observe his surroundings. To his left, there was a table strewn with an assortment of items: guns, ashtrays, empty vodka bottles—his vodka bottles—and yet another crack pipe. Perfect.

"So, it seems you truly are the infamous arrogant Diablo," the man remarked, his finger caressing the trigger.

Vash maintained a composed demeanor as he inquired, "And you Neon?"

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Vash could discern the traces of paranoia seeping into his eyes. It became apparent that Neon might not be as cooperative or helpful as Vash had initially anticipated. He was buzzing too hard. Neon responded with suspicion, "How do you know that? You following me?"

A wide, toothy grin spread across Vash's face. "It's what I excel at, after all," he replied. "Word on the street is that you're the big shot around here, running the show and all that." Neon shifted uncomfortably, a hint of pride flickering across his expression. It was as if he believed he was contributing something meaningful to the world, oblivious that his actions were centered around stealing valuable possessions while dressed like a clown. "I was actually hoping you could help me out, man."

"Yeah?" Neon patronized, his tone dripping with disdain. "You believe I'm going to lend you a hand? You must be out of your mind, Diablo." He fired another shot, this time deliberately close to Vash. Too close for comfort. Enough to feel the bullet's heat, yet he didn't flinch, and his calmness seemed to infuriate Neon even further.

Vash sighed. With Neon's current state of mind, he had to kill his ass down from his high. A swift assessment of the situation told him he had a mere two seconds before the rest of the men would open fire, regardless of what he said. With that limited timeframe in mind, he suddenly reached behind his back, retrieving his second gun and taking down one of the men to his left. The suddenness of his action caught the others off guard, buying him a small window of opportunity. Taking advantage of that momentary distraction, Vash flipped the table, causing the glass to shatter from the ashtrays and a gun to fall off the table, discharging a round and filling the room with shocked screams from the remaining men.

Fuck. If that bullet had ricocheted and landed just an inch closer to you, he would have willingly allowed himself to be stabbed rather than risk your safety. However, no cries of pain followed, so he took a deep breath, relieved but no less pissed at himself.

In perfect synchronization, a barrage of bullets pierced the thick, wooden table, punctuating the air with a loud sound. Fortunately, most projectiles failed to penetrate fully, a stroke of luck in Vash's favor. Returning fire was far too risky in this situation. Even the slightest exposure of his pinky toe would invite a hail of bullets, and he refused to jeopardize your well-being further by blindly firing back. He would only take shots when he had absolute certainty of their accuracy. For now, all he could do was wait, biding his time until the assailants emptied their clips.

Vash heard the rustling of clothing and muttered curses as they scrambled to reload. It took even less time for him to shoot the remaining four. The bullets had torn through the men's brains in rapid succession, causing their lifeless bodies to collapse simultaneously. However, he deliberately chose to spare Neon for the time being. He intended to deal with him later, in his own way.

Neon's mouth unleashed a torrent of curses, his colorful tirade spewing as he desperately searched for another weapon. He was nothing more than a whiny bitch trapped in a man's body, devoid of true courage. His face flushed with rage, filled with murderous intent as he fixed a fierce glare upon Vash. Now that he thought again, he had no time for these stupid games. Ignoring the look on Neon's face, Vash shot the thief in the head. Thieves had no home in heaven, remember?

And then he looked for you—the spitfire who would turn to a mush when he was around you. Between death and destruction, you had worn a smile on your lips, your eyes glistening with tears, your hair disheveled. Yet, there was an undeniable radiance within you, a precious light that warmed his heart and justified the violence he had unleashed to protect you.

In that moment, he couldn't help but question whether he was your savior or if you, with your enchanting smile, were the true source of his salvation. You embodied a majestic blessing, and he found himself addicted to the sheer joy that radiated within him each time you smiled in his presence.

*

Vash's face changed seasons as he reached you: the once rigid line of his mouth warmed into a bright smile. His eyes sparkled as he beamed at you, seemingly unfazed by the presence of lifeless bodies strewn about the surroundings.

Vash studied your eyes intently, his piercing blue gaze locked onto yours as if trying to read you for clues. But, the intensity of his scrutiny was often overwhelming, causing you to break the connection prematurely. In doing so, you felt a sense of disconnection, as if a vital tether had been momentarily severed, leaving you with a somewhat unsettled feeling.

"Get down—"

He tackled you to the ground just as the sound of gunshots filled the basement. His strong arms enveloped and pulled you close to his chest, his body shielding yours from the imminent danger. The rapid thumping of your heart drowned out Vash's voice as he leaned close and spoke into your ear, his words barely audible.

In a hushed whisper, Vash asked, "Are you all right?" as he held you even closer, seeking reassurance of your well-being. You attempted to nod in response, conveying your condition despite the tense situation. "Stay down," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "Don't move." His words were firm.

You had no intentions of doing otherwise, though you chose not to voice it to him.

The gunshots rang out, and you instinctively covered your ears tightly, seeking temporary respite from the ear-splitting noise. Then, abruptly, silence descended, leaving a void that was broken only by the sight of Vash dropping his gun and collapsing to the floor. With wide eyes, you turned to face him, witnessing him struggling to remain seated, his strength visibly waning.

As you took in the sight before you, your breath caught in your throat. Vash's head hung low, his neck limp, and his disheveled coat revealing an undone button. His dark shirt and crimson vest were soaked in blood, painting a grim tableau.

He had been shot, but when? Now? No. No. No.

You were too poor to afford the luxury of succumbing to hysteria. Instead, your focus shifted to finding a solution to staunch Vash's bleeding, yet fear held you back from approaching him. Your eyes scanned the surroundings, convinced Vash had ensured no remaining intruders were lurking nearby.

With caution, you gingerly maneuvered between Vash's legs, mindful of avoiding a direct gaze at the blood staining his hands. You consciously suppressed your imagination, refusing to let it overpower you in this critical moment. Not here. Not now.  

Gathering your resolve, you called out to him, your voice filled with concern and uncertainty, "Vash...?"

Your hand instinctively went to his neck, seeking his pulse, and at that moment, Vash's head snapped up with a sudden burst of energy. His eyes found you. His face, remarkably, appeared largely unscathed, save for the visible signs of weariness etched upon it.

"I'm not dead yet, love," he whispered, his weary smile gracing his face as if he were beholding you with fresh eyes, appreciating your presence anew. "I'm glad it didn't hit you."

Tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously, and his words flooded your thoughts, rendering your mind a whirlwind of confusion. Your mouth opened, but nothing emerged as your limbs felt immobilized, and your wide eyes remained fixated on him, reflecting a combo of fear, concern, and an overwhelming flood of emotions.

"You're worried for me?" Vash said, his voice hoarse.

"Shut up!"

His hand reached out to tenderly caress your cheek. No gloves. His hand was bloodied. You knew it. But you couldn't care less. It was the hand of your savior, and that fact outweighed any concerns about its current state. His thumb left faint blood trails on your face, and in response, your muscles finally began to relax from their tense state. With a resolute grip, you clasped his wrist firmly with both hands, causing him to flinch momentarily. Undeterred, you held on even tighter, seeking to provide a sense of stability and support.

You had grown an unexpected soft spot for him, maybe because he was vulnerable, or perhaps it was because he had taken a bullet while selflessly protecting you, a level of care that had been absent from your life for far too long. It was a stark reminder of his compassion, something no one else had done in ages. You swallowed down your deep-seated hatred, at least for the moment, and mustered the strength to ask, "Tell me, what should I do?"

"Love," Vash murmured, his gaze unwaveringly fixed upon yours, his lips slightly parted. Within his turquoise-colored eyes resided a haunting pain that seemed to hold him captive. His dark lashes unveiled a complex blend of sorrow and beauty as he blinked, a sight that struck you with unexpected intensity. The profound emotions he conveyed through a mere glance caught you off guard, revealing an extraordinary depth of agony entrenched within his heart.

Your throat tightened, and with a gulp, you released his hand, redirecting your focus to pressing both of your hands firmly against his torso. The warmth of his blood seeped through your fingers, staining your skin with a crimson hue in mere moments. The onslaught of rushing blood in your ears intensified, drowning out other sounds as waves of tension threatened to consume you from inside.

In a quiet voice, you found yourself whispering words to him that emerged from the depths of your being, words you didn't even know were there. Wave after wave of stress slammed into you, and fuck...everything blurred as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. It felt like your chest was splitting wide open, like your heart was spilling alongside his blood.

As you lifted your head, your gaze met him, and to your surprise, you discovered him wearing a genuine smile that had blossomed upon his lips. One so warm that it cracked the shell of coldness.

"Thank you, but pressing your hands on it is not gonna work," he said, placing his palms on the floor and endeavoring to push himself up into an upright position against the couch. "I need to see the wound. Can you help me unbutton my vest and shirt?"

As he inhaled deeply, his head snapped back, causing his neck tattoos to stretch tautly. Cold droplets of sweat trickled down from the tattoos, tracing a path along the collar of his shirt. He swallowed, and the movement of his Adam's apple was evident as it bobbed up and down. The sheer simplicity of this primal act sent a chill coursing through your veins, causing every hair on your body to stand on end. It stirred something deep within you, a sensation that hinted at something amiss within yourself.

Focus!

He had no tie, so carefully, you began to undo his buttons, your fingers trembling slightly as you navigated the task. It was then that you caught yourself instinctively closing your eyes, a reflex to shield yourself from the vulnerability of the moment. However, you quickly blinked them open when you felt something brush against your eyelashes, realizing it was a fleeting touch from his fingers. Holy shit! You were dripping, burning, and melting all at once.

"We can't proceed with your eyes closed," he said with a small smile the size of Jupiter. Intrigued, you cautiously peeked at his features, taking in the exquisite craftsmanship of every detail. Each element seemed meticulously designed, from his perfectly sculpted nose and chin to his finely-shaped ears and eyebrows. His eyelashes possessed a captivating allure that any girl would envy, framing his eyes with a wealth of color and depth, capable of inspiring countless works of art. Moreover, his golden hair resembled the ripe, undulating fields of wheat, a sight you longed to relish, while his eyes were a canvas with infinite possibilities, beckoning you to paint a million vibrant pictures.

Your eyes traced the contour of his jaw, allowing your gaze to travel along the graceful curve of his neck until it reached the apex of his collarbone. There, you committed to memory the sculpted landscape of his throat, with its captivating interplay of hills and valleys, accentuated by the presence of intricate tattoos. The sheer perfection of—

Scars.

His skin was shredded with scars.

Blood rushed to your head so quickly that you began to feel faint. You felt sick. Like you might actually, truly upturn the contents of your stomach right now. You wanted to panic; you wanted to shake someone; you wanted to know how to understand the emotions choking you because you couldn't even imagine, couldn't even imagine, couldn't even imagine what he must've endured to carry such suffering on his skin.

His entire torso was a map of pain.

Thick and thin and uneven and terrible. Scars like roads that led to nowhere. They were gashes and ragged slices you couldn't understand, marks of torture you never expected. They were the only imperfections on his entire body, imperfections hidden away and hiding secrets of their own.

Then, a realization washed over you, not for the first time, that you had no idea who Vash really was. You tried to tell him something. You tried to choke out. You tried to say so many times and failed. You tried to find his eyes only to realize he'd been watching you study him. The pieces of his face were pressed into lines of emotion so deep you wondered what you must look like to him. He touched two fingers to your chin, tilted your face up just enough, and his touch was like an electric wire in water.

"It's not a pleasant sight for a woman," he murmured in a low tone, and it felt as if the entire universe froze in its tracks, spinning in the opposite direction. Yet, your gaze remained fixated on him, on the expanse of his upper body. You were struck by the sheer perfection that unfolded before you, captivated by his flawless appearance from the front. Strong, lean frame, toned and muscular without being bulky. He was fair without being pale and skin tinted with enough sunlight to look effortlessly healthy. The body of a perfect man.

What a lie appearances could be.

What a terrible, terrible lie.

His gaze fixated on you, his eyes akin to blue flames, burning with an intensity that refused to be extinguished. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him and his chest's rapid rise and fall.

"Would you mind?" he asked, gesturing towards his wound, his tone attempting to convey a casual demeanor that thinly veiled the underlying apprehension in his eyes. "I'm bleeding a bit here," he added, acknowledging the criticality of tending to his injury.

"Do your scars hurt?" you blurted out suddenly.

He met your gaze with eyes widened in surprise, and in a quiet tone, he confessed, "Help me take these things off." Of course, he wouldn't answer you.

In a barely audible whisper, you mustered the courage to ask, "Will you tell me where they came from?" The weight of the question made it difficult for you to maintain eye contact as curiosity and trepidation swirled within you.

He was silent for so long. Then, his voice, like a gentle tug on a leash, called your name, instantly capturing your attention. You lifted your head, compelled by his words. "Help me take off my coat and vest. I feel like I'm suffocating," he requested, his pale face contorted with pain.

You didn't push further. With a nod of understanding, you delicately held him, careful not to hurt him further. He didn't say a word about the pain, trying so hard to hide that he was having trouble breathing. He was wincing against the torture of it all but didn't whisper a complaint.

You drew him closer, bringing his head to rest against yours, his deep breaths brushing against your shoulder. You seized the fabric's edge without hesitation, ready to gently remove it from his arms. However, the minuscule motion seemed to inflict unbearable pain, prompting him to bury his face in the curve of your neck. There, he stifled another groan, his lips pressing firmly against your skin, seeking solace in his discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so—"

Feeling his hand tugging on your t-shirt, his grip tight and desperate, he implored in a calm voice near your ear, "Just take them off." You attempted to comply with his request, carefully removing the garments, mindful of the pain it may cause him. In response, his hands transformed into a firm embrace around your waist, his lips shifted to lightly press against your cheek, and his body pressed intimately against yours. Your senses became acutely aware of his touch.

He was touching you, touching you, touching you.

"Love—"

As his body pressed nearer, a wave of awareness swept through you, consuming your senses until nothing else mattered except the ethereal dandelions blowing wishes within your lungs. Suddenly, your eyes flew open, capturing a fleeting moment as he briefly licked his bottom lip. His tongue grazed your neck, and in that instant, something in your brain burst to life.

You gasped. You gasped. You gasped.

"I—"

"Love, please," his voice trembled with anxiety. "Just—" he pleaded, his lips pressed tightly against your skin. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, and droplets of sweat trickled down from his hairline, falling onto your shoulder blade. His fingers slowly traversed the sides of your body, their movement betraying his inner struggle to remain composed. And he held you. It felt unlike any embrace you had experienced before. It was as if you were a fragile glass urn containing his entire existence—precious, vital, and an inseparable part of him.

With a swift motion, you removed both his coat and vest, expecting some dramatic reaction. But he didn't scream. He didn't die. He didn't faint, but you did cry, you did choke, you did shake, shudder, splinter into teardrops. He leaned back against the couch, and you couldn't help but notice the pallor that had washed over his face. It was a sight that broke something deep within your heart. Seeing him in this vulnerable state pierced your defenses despite your lingering hatred towards him. You would have preferred to witness him succumb instantly, with that infuriating smirk on his face, rather than seeing those big, blue eyes staring at you like a lost fallen angel.

"Some of them are remnants of our childhood games," he uttered, his voice strained as he cleared his parched throat. The revelation left you frozen in a state of horror. "The scars, I mean," he clarified. Your mind raced, struggling to process the implications of his words. Vash averted his gaze, his eyes devoid of any discernible emotion, his face locked into a neutral expression. The silence hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken questions.

"Knives whipped you?" you managed to rasp, your voice hoarse and filled with shock. The words tumbled out without permission.

"Cut."

"Oh my God," you gasped, instinctively covering your mouth in disbelief. Your gaze shifted towards the wall as you fought to regain your composure. Blinking rapidly, you wrestled with the pain and rage within you, struggling to contain the emotions threatening to consume you.

"I'm so sorry," you choked out.

You had to suppress the words that threatened to spill from your lips. His flawless countenance. His impeccable physique. His eyes were cold and exquisite, like frozen gemstones. Gods! His concealed exterior was as shattered as his hidden interior.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of your emotions, you found yourself speaking without reservation, assuring him, "Your scars are not repulsive. At least they weren't for me or… your Nick."

His gaze remained fixed upon you for a while, but then he shook his head, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I'll apply pressure to my wound with this vest. Meanwhile, I need you to retrieve my coat," he instructed. "In the right pocket, you'll find my phone. Take it and make a call to Bradd. He's on speed dial #2. Remember, there's no cell reception in the basement. You have to go upstairs." He paused, swallowing hard, before resuming. "The car's switch is in my left pocket." He took a deep breath and continued, "Get out of here before anyone notices you leaving. Once you reach the main road, you'll be able to make your escape easily."

WHAT? WAS HE LETTING YOU GO? It wasn't like he could stop you now, but…

As if someone had suddenly poured icy water upon your head, you gazed at him, knowing he wouldn't meet your eyes, for he was not the type to bid farewells and wish you good luck. He was letting you go out of feeling guilty; likewise, you were not one to let such an opportunity slip away.

You mechanically nodded, and with a final glance devoid of words, you swiftly grabbed his coat and made a hasty retreat up the stairs, leaving behind a silent acknowledgment of your parting.

This was all you wanted. To be free. Right?

You followed through with your actions: You did call Bradd. You did retrieve the car switch. You did make your way to the front door. You did stand there. Your hand did reach out and grasp the doorknob. However, your feet remained rooted to the floor despite your intention to leave.

Because there was a man in the basement, wounded because of you. Because that man had been shot before. Because the body never gets used to pain. Because he knew, and yet, he willingly bore it for your sake. Because where did you want to go? To your father? To that man who didn't even bother with saving you? Where did you want to go when you had nowhere? Because you only realize the depth of your desire to stay when the doors are wide open.

Upon returning to the basement, you discovered him in a distressed state. His head tilted back, his hands clenched tightly, and his lips nearly devoid of color against the backdrop of darkness. It was evident that he struggled to maintain a firm grip on his wound, unable to apply enough pressure to stem the flow.

As the sound of your footsteps reached his ears, he lifted his head and directed his gaze towards the phone in your hand, followed by a glance at the car keys held in your other hand.

In a whisper stained with desperation and vulnerability, he asked, "Why did you come back?" His words hung in the air, hopes dying and flourishing in his eyes, his eyelashes like pearls forged from pain. It felt as though he was consuming your very essence, and you, in turn, became entangled, ensnared in his presence.

"Why..." you began, your voice catching on the first two attempts at inhalation. "Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost?"

"Because I might be hallucinating," he almost chuckled, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and it felt as if you could sprout a pair of wings and take flight. "You didn't want to leave?" he inquired, curious about your unexpected presence.

"What?" you blinked, suddenly sobered. "No! That's not what I meant. I just thought that no one should have to go through the experience of dying alone. And remember, you told me I would finally be free when you're gone. So why should I rush to leave?"

"Yeah, that promise," he sighed, his gaze drifting downward. "You're one of the worst liars I've ever encountered." Time seemed to stretch as you waited and waited and waited for him to continue. "You just made a call to save me," he stated, his voice tinged with amusement. His eyes traveled from your shoulder to your elbow, eventually landing on your wrist, fixated on the phone in your hand. In that suspended moment, disbelief held you captive, leaving you at a loss for words. "Why do you want to make everything challenging, love?"

"How can you be certain that I've called for help?" you questioned, your voice laced with genuine surprise as you tried to raise your eyebrow.

His gaze held you captive as if pinning you in place. The urgency in his eyes ignited a spark within your very bones. He bit his bottom lip, briefly averting his gaze before the words spilled forth. "Because I know you," he declared, and a flurry of hummingbirds seemed to flutter within your heart. His eyes carried a tenderness, and his smile had the power to unhinge your very joints. A bittersweet longing stirred within you as you wished he could be someone else, someone better, so you could taste his lips' sweetness.

No lips!

Don't think about his lips, idiot!

You forced yourself to fixate on his face, determined not to let your eyes dwell upon the devastation that marked his body. However, as countless seconds ticked by, you could not tear your gaze away from him.

"I can't believe you returned," he murmured, and deep down, you understood the reasons why you shouldn't have. It wasn't logical or practical. However, against all rationale, you disregarded those thoughts and chose to sit close to him.

"You know," you informed him, "Bradd mentioned that he thought you were still fucking that girl from the party. You were obviously having fun, so why did you come home? Didn't things work out for you two?" Despite your efforts to mask it, a trace of annoyance seeped into your tone.

Vash stared at you, a genuine smile gracing his face. "No need to be jealous," he reassured, his words piercing through you. "I'm here because I'd rather celebrate with my friend than be surrounded by strangers." You struggled to maintain composure, like keeping your organs from falling out, hoping the holes in your head weren't showing.

 Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

And bold because your hand instinctively reached out, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. As you did, you noticed that his hair had grown slightly longer, a detail that had previously escaped your attention. The surprising softness of his blond locks, akin to melted chocolate, captivated you. It made you question why he bothered styling his hair in spikes when it looked so effortlessly appealing when left down. "Thank you for rescuing me," you expressed your gratitude, observing how he tensed his jaw and hesitated, opening and closing his lips.

Lowering your hand, you gently caressed his wrists, delicately tracing the tender skin with your fingertips, your touch grazing over the scars. This time, he didn't recoil; instead, he drew a fractured breath and closed his eyes. With a reassuring tone, you assured him, "You're going to be alright."

Like a wounded puppy, he made an effort to nod in acknowledgment.

Should you do something about his wound? Where was the first aid kit? He interjected as you contemplated retracting your touch, stopping you. "Don't," he said. "Your touch is the only thing keeping me from losing my sanity."

What? Why was he acting weird today? Was it because he was wounded?

You suppressed a shiver as a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, coloring them with blush, and just for this moment, you dropped your bones and allowed him to hold you together. Luxurious was what this was.

Vash's cold, stained fingers enveloped yours, gripping them tightly, and the sheer delight that waved through you was so immense that it threatened to make you tremble. It felt as though your skin and bones had been yearning for his affection, and you didn't know how to pace yourself. You were like a starved child, attempting to satiate your hunger by devouring the richness of these moments, fearing that they would abruptly vanish, that you would wake up suddenly and realize you were a Cinderella who was still sweeping cinders for her stepmother. But then Vash's lips turned into a weary smile, and your worries put on a fancy dress and pretended to be something else for a while.

"How are you?" you inquired, your voice already betraying your unease, even though his grip on you was barely there. His laughter shook his body's shape, soft, rich, and indulgent. Yet, he remained silent in response to your question, and you knew he wouldn't. He was one of those who never talked about their pain.

His thumb delicately brushed against your hand, causing you to inhale sharply, your gaze instinctively shifting towards him. His eyes were telling you too much, so much that you had to look away because you were doubting whether they were real or merely figments of your imagination. Your skin, now hypersensitive, awakened with a pulsating vitality, humming with emotions so profound that it was almost indecent. You should have concealed these sensations but proved too potent to suppress. And deep down, you suspected he was aware of the effect he had on you—the electrifying jolt that surged through your being when his fingers grazed your skin, the proximity of his lips to your face, the searing heat of his body pressed against yours, all demanding your eyes to shut, your limbs to quiver, and your body to yield to the immense pressure.

You also observed the impact it had on him, the realization that he possessed such power over you. This must be his favorite torture. Something you were afraid would kill you.

"Have you got any tattoos?" he inquired, a smile gracing his lips as he reclined against the couch, his shirt stained with blood.

Well, this was undoubtedly a conversation you never anticipated having with Vash. "No," you responded, a touch of unease in your voice. "Besides, you've already seen me naked." For the last time, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation of his touch before consciously withdrawing your hand. You had to stop trying to convince yourself that he could be a fundamentally good person. Vash Saverem had committed unforgivable acts that should not be dismissed. You shouldn't have smiled at him. You shouldn't have even talked to him. And then you wanted to scream because you didn't think your brain could handle the split personality you seemed to be developing lately.

He studied his empty hands, a smile gracing his lips as he spoke, "I never looked at your back."

"Great," you responded, pausing briefly before continuing, "What about your tattoos? You like this maze-like design?"

His smile expanded, stretching across his face like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. Dimples reappeared, adding a touch of innocence to his countenance. A gentle shake of his head accompanied his words as he playfully challenged, "Why should I not?"

"I don't get it," you uttered, tilting your head in perplexity. "Are you trying to remind yourself of being trapped within a labyrinth?"

He shrugged slowly, momentarily glancing towards the empty space across the basement, before he tightened his grip on the vest, applying pressure to his wound. Despite your desire to offer assistance, you refrained. "How does one truly escape a maze," he mused, "when every exit merely leads to another entrance?"

A heavy silence enveloped the space between you. You said nothing. He said nothing. You took a few measured breaths, gathering your thoughts before finally responding. "That reasoning shouldn't serve as an excuse to stop making an effort," you asserted, while you couldn't quite fathom why you felt so nervous saying it out loud.

"Then why didn't you do it yourself, love?"

"I … have no idea what you're talking about."

"Why didn't you escape from the hell you were trapped in?"

"Wha— That's not an equivalent comparison!" Your words stumbled out, interrupted by a momentary pause as you grappled with your thoughts. "I never had the opportunity. I lacked the strength. It wasn't as if I remained there out of adoration," you clarified, your face burning with embarrassment, as if on cue, perpetually ready to be haunted by the shadows of your past, by the person you once were and continued to be. But it was strange. While one part of you struggled to be candid, another part felt comfortable talking to Vash. Safe. Familiar. Because he already knew everything about you. For he already held the knowledge of your entirety. There was no revelation about your history that would startle him, no actions of yours that would leave him aghast. This blond-haired man carried your secrets within his heart. And this realization, perhaps more than anything else, shook your very core and granted you a semblance of solace.

"Father," you persisted, the words escaping your lips as if propelled by an unseen force, your gaze fixed upon the floor, unable to break free. "he didn't let mom divorce him," you revealed, your voice filled with a mixture of anguish and resentment. "And when she needed him the most..." you faltered, abruptly halting your words, realizing the depth of what you were about to disclose, a secret too raw to expose further.

Horrified as you realized just how much you wanted to confide in him. In Vash. The very same terrible, terrible Vash who killed people before your eyes, who had wielded you as a plaything. It pained you to acknowledge that, despite everything, you felt a strange sense of safety in his presence. The honesty that flowed freely from your lips in his company ignited a self-directed hatred. You despised that, out of everyone in your life, Vash was the one person before whom you could lay bare your soul without fear of judgment.

The weight of protecting others from the haunting narrative of your father's existence had always burdened you. The fear of frightening your friends or divulging too much, for it might lead them to reconsider their trust in you, their affection for you, consumed your thoughts. Yet, with Vash, there was no need for pretenses. There were no hidden corners to shield. You longed to witness his reaction, to gain insight into his thoughts now that you had bared a glimpse of your personal history. But you couldn't make yourself face him. So you were rooted in place.

Time, it seemed to stand still. Vash remained motionless, not uttering a single word, not shifting an inch. The absence of a response only deepened the weight of humiliation that settled upon your shoulders.

Seconds flew by, swarming the room all at once, and you wanted to swat them all away; you wanted to catch them and shove them into your pockets just long enough to stop time.

At long last, he broke the silence, punctuating the stillness. "I understand," he said, his voice a gentle interruption that stirred you from your thoughts. Startled, you lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes. His head was slightly inclined, his golden locks cascading onto his forehead in delicate layers. And as your eyes intertwined, you found yourself captivated by the depth of his gaze. His eyes, an expanse of piercing blue, held a multitude of unspoken understandings within them.

"You do?" you asked.

"You're surprised."

"Then why subject me to this?" you questioned, gesturing towards the confining walls of the basement. "If you truly understand, why treat me like him?"

He shifted uneasily, displaying a hint of discomfort for the first time. "I offered you an opportunity to break free," he began, his voice laced with sincerity. "Yet, you chose to come back. It's not up to me anymore," he continued, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "You place excessive expectations upon me."

"Why not?" you asked.

A chuckle escaped him, carrying hints of amusement and weariness. He sighed, his gaze turning towards you, a smile forming at the corner of his eye. "You possess an insatiable curiosity," he remarked, his words gently teasing.

"I can't help it," you confessed. " You just seem so different now. Everything you say catches me off guard."

"How so?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it," you pondered aloud. "You're just … so calm. A little less crazy."

He laughed one of those silent laughs that shook his chest without making a sound and then groaned from pain. Your instinctive reaction was to reach his wound, your hands poised in hesitation, but you refrained from making contact. He noticed your intention, maintaining his smile in response. "My existence has been nothing but strife and ruin," he shared. "But right now," he glanced around, his eyes fixed on the wall, "removed from it all and so close to the precipice of death," he mused, "it feels like a damn paradise. I no longer have to be consumed by incessant thoughts or carry out obligations or engage with anyone or be anywhere," he expressed, a genuine contentment emanating from his words. "It's almost a form of luxury, in a way. Perhaps I should get shot more often," he added, his words drifting into the realm of introspection. As you studied him, truly studied his countenance in a way you had never dared before, you realized the profound chasm that separated you from comprehending the intricacies of his life.

He told you once that he would make different choices if he could go back in time. As you sat there, an epiphany struck you with resounding clarity. You realized the depth of his conviction, for you were just beginning to grasp the reality of his violent and disciplined existence. The true nature of his past remained a mystery to you, an enigma waiting to be unraveled. Yet, in that very moment, an unexpected yearning rooted within you. A yearning to peel back the layers, delve into the depths of his experiences, and truly comprehend his life's uncharted territory.

You observed his careful movements, the careful façade he crafted to appear unconcerned, relaxed. However, you perceived the underlying calculation behind each shift, each adjustment of his body. There was intent behind his actions, a purpose that fueled his every gesture. He remained in a perpetual state of vigilance, attentive to his surroundings. His ears were always attuned, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch the floor and the wall as if seeking reassurance. His gaze fixated on the door, scrutinizing its details—the outline, hinges, and handle. You couldn't help but notice the subtle tension rippled through him when you touched his self-inflicted scars. It was apparent he was always alert, perpetually on edge, prepared for battle, for immediate response.

It made you wonder if he'd ever known peace. Safety. If he had ever been able to sleep through the night. Suppose he'd ever been able to go anywhere without constantly looking over his own shoulder.

His hands remained tightly clasped over his wound, shielding it from further harm. As you observed him, your gaze shifted to his right forearm, and there it was—a black tattoo etched into his skin. A circle with intersecting straight lines formed a distinct pattern. It struck you with a profound realization that it had eluded your attention for far too long. Suddenly, fragments of memory flooded your mind, recalling brief glimpses of the tattoo's corners in previous encounters.

He caught you looking at his hands, quickly clenched his left fist, and covered it with his right. "Wha—"

"It's just a tattoo," he said. "It's nothing."

"Why are you hiding it if it's nothing?" You were already so much more curious than you were a moment ago, too eager for any opportunity to crack him open and figure out what on earth went on inside his head. "You're not going to tell me?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and proceeded to roll his neck, releasing the tension out of the lowest part, the part that just touched his upper back. You couldn't help but watch, couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have someone massage the pain out of your body that way. His hands looked so strong.

As your train of thought wavered, on the verge of forgetting the previous conversation, he interjected with a revelation. "I've had this tattoo for nearly two years," he disclosed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before diverting away once more. "And I don't talk about it."

"Ever?"

"No."

"Oh." A bit of disappointment washed over you, and you instinctively bit down on your bottom lip.

He let out a sigh as he flexed and unflexed his fingers. His gaze fixated on his hands, palms facing downward, fingers splayed. With a hesitant motion, he slid his sleeve up, revealing his forearm, and slowly rotated his arm to offer you a glimpse of the tattoo, his facial expression betraying a subtle twitch of discomfort.

"Have you heard of the Eye of Michael?" he asked, his question serving as an unexpected segue into a different topic.

Misunderstanding the context of his question, you shook your head. "What's happened to his eye?"

Vash's intense gaze settled upon you for a full second, and then, unexpectedly, he erupted into strong, unrestrained gales of laughter—trying to rein it in and failing. You were suddenly uncomfortable and nervous in front of this strange man who laughed and had secret tattoos and scars and asked you about people's eyes.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," you told him.

Despite your discomfort, Vash's eyes retained a warm, smiling expression as he reassured you. "Don't worry," he began, his tone reassuring. "I didn't know much about it until Nick told me. Michael was one of God's Archangels, a defender of good against evil, protecting others. This tattoo represents my family. Anyone who bears this symbol is considered part of my kin, my blood and bone, and no one can touch them."

"What about Michael's evil twin? Even Lucifer can't touch your family?"

He probably caught the horrified look on your face. It's just a tattoo, love. No one can protect anyone from Lucifer. " 

"Even you, the Diablo?" you questioned, frozen in place, wanting and not wanting to look away. Vash offered no immediate response. Every swallow was evident in his throat. You couldn't help but notice how his chest rose and fell with each exhale and inhale, and something in you compelled you to reach out, to touch his scars, to feel their texture beneath your fingertips. A blush crept across your hairline, betraying the intensity of your emotions, yet you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

You were so caught, so intrigued by the cut of his physique. Your attention was drawn to how his waist tapered into his hips, concealed beneath the fabric of his pants—a desire stirred within you, an intense longing to uncover the mysteries hidden beneath those barriers. To know him so thoroughly, so privately. You wanted to study the secrets tucked between his elbows and the whispers caught behind his knees. You wanted to follow the lines of his silhouette with your eyes and the tips of your fingers. You wanted to trace rivers and valleys along the uncharted territories of his body.

You found yourself taken aback by the intensity of your thoughts as they veered into a realm of desire and longing you hadn't anticipated. The desperate heat simmering in the pit of your stomach unsettled you, urging you to ignore its presence. Butterflies fluttered within your chest, their existence both enchanting and bewildering. An unspoken ache resonated deep within your core, a nameless yearning you were unwilling to name. Beautiful. He was so beautiful. You must be insane. Gods, where the fuck were you?

"I believe," he spoke, "that the bullet hasn't hit a vital organ. But with all the blood, I can't be sure."

"What?" Startled, you abruptly tore your gaze away from his lower half, desperately trying to keep your imagination from drawing in the details. Instead, you shifted your focus to his wound, making a conscious effort to acknowledge and address the actual situation at hand. As your eyes fell upon the injury, you managed to regain your composure, albeit momentarily. "Oh," you managed to utter, your voice betraying a touch of awkwardness. "Yes, I see it now."  The fucking wound was located at the very bottom of his torso, very close to his v line. Yes. Very good. Yes. Sure. You thought you needed to lie down.

He discreetly covered his wound once more with his vest, and as you observed, you noticed that his pants button was left open, a casual and seemingly minor detail, but WHAT THE FUCK?

"I fucking hate suit pants," he grumbled, his annoyance evident. "I don't understand why we can't simply move around in comfortable, casual clothes," he remarked, questioning the necessity of formal garments.

"Who are you?" The question escaped your lips, fueled by confusion and disbelief. You didn't know this Vash. He seemed unfamiliar, a vivid departure from the Vash you had known. Was this asshole the same man who always wore tight clothes and now was talking about wearing comfortable ones? Did he have a concussion?

A self-assured smile graced his lips as he responded, "No one else needs to know."

"What do you mean?"

Confidently, he declared, "I know who I am. And that's all that matters to me."

After a brief silence, you frowned, your gaze shifting downwards towards the floor. A hint of wistfulness colored your words as you expressed, "It must be great to go through life with so much confidence."

"You exude confidence," he said. You're stubborn and resilient. So brave. So inhumanly beautiful. You could have everything." His words caught you off guard, drawing your attention back to him. Vash's gaze bore into you, his tone carrying a lot of admiration.

Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't blush.

A genuine laughter escaped you as you lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes directly. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm not interested in having everything. "

"That," he stated, shaking his head, "is something I will never understand." He attributed your perspective to fear, suggesting that your reluctance stemmed from a discomfort with the unknown. According to him, your concerns revolved around the possibility of causing harm to others, driven by the weight of perceived societal expectations and adherence to the rules you had been presented with. His gaze bore into you, filled with intensity. "I wish you wouldn't," he implored, his words carrying a sense of longing for you to break free from those constraints and embrace a different approach.

"I wish you'd stop expecting me to help you slaughter people."

He shrugged nonchalantly, his voice carrying a sense of matter-of-factness. "I never explicitly stated that it was a requirement for you," he responded. "However, it is an inherent part of this line of work, an inevitable occurrence along the way. In this business, killing is statistically implausible to evade."

"You're joking, right?"

"Definitely not."

"You can always avoid killing people, Vash. You avoid killing them by not doing this business."

A radiant grin adorned his face, seemingly unaffected by the previous conversation. His attention was elsewhere, captivated by a different sentiment. "I love it when you say my name," he said. "I don't even know why."

"Vash is your name," you pointed out. "I can call you Saverem."

His smile was wide, so vast. "God, I love that."

"Your name?"

"Especially when you say it."

"Vash? Or Saverem?"

His eyelids lowered, and he leaned back against the couch, revealing a pair of charming dimples. In that instant, the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. Here you were, sitting together with Vash as if you had abundant time to spare. It was as if the outside world, with all its turmoil, ceased to exist within the confines of these walls. And yet, Vash's injured state served as a harsh reminder that he was bleeding before you, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind.

You couldn't fathom how you kept allowing yourself to be distracted, and you promised to regain control over your thoughts and emotions. But just as you were about to speak, Vash interjected with a confession, "I'm sorry I ordered them to kidnap you."

Your mouth dropped shut, and your mind raced, resisting the weight of his confession. A torrent of questions raged within you, desperate for answers. "Why?" The floodgates of your emotions burst forth, urging you to understand the motives behind his unexpected revelations. Inwardly, you pleaded for your heart to quiet down, to cease its relentless clamor in the face of the unsettling truths that had been brought to light. "Why are you saying all of these?"

He spent far too long looking at you, leaving your question unanswered. He spoke with a heavy weight of remorse, barely above a whisper. "Every single day, I am sorry," he confessed, his words laden with a deep sense of sorrow. "I am sorry for believing that taking you captive would somehow serve as a solution. And then, for causing you pain when I believed I was acting in the right. I cannot apologize for who I am," he continued. "That part of me is already gone, already ruined. I gave up on myself a long time ago. But I am sorry for failing to understand you better. Everything I did was driven by a desire for revenge, to wield you as a weapon against that man. I pushed you too far, too hard, and did things to horrify and disgust you, and I did it all on purpose. Because that's how I was taught to steel myself against the terror in this world; that's how I was trained to fight back," he admitted, his gaze unwavering as he scrutinized you intently.

You tried so hard to recall all the justifications for harboring hatred towards him, desperately attempting to summon memories of the atrocious acts you had witnessed him commit. But you were tortured because you understood too much about what it was like to be tortured, to do things because you didn't know any better, to do things because you thought they were right, because you were never taught what was wrong. Because it was so hard to be kind to the world when all you'd ever felt was hatred. Because it was so hard to see goodness in the world when all you'd ever known was terror.

And you wanted to say something to him. Something profound and complete and memorable, but he already seemed to understand. Because he offered you a strange, unsteady smile that didn't reach his eyes but said so much

A sudden tightness gripped your heart, causing a jolt of panic to run through you. You'd almost begun to hyperventilate, and you realized, for the very first time, that the thought of Vash dead was anything but appealing to you. It filled you with horror, a sensation that struck your face, skull, and spine, knowing how much you cared about him. As well as the knowledge of his deep care for you.

You took a deep breath. Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject.

In a barely audible whisper, you found yourself uttering, "All those wounds are your brother's doing?" As you spoke, you observed a subtle draining of color from his face, mirroring the impact of your question. He looked away, tightly pressed his lips together, and instinctively placed his hands upon his wound. In a soft tone, you inquired, "Who hurt you like this?" You asked so quietly. Then you began to recognize the strange feeling you got just before you did something terrible. Like right now. Right now, you felt like you could kill someone for this.

"Love, please—"

"Where was your family during all of this?" you questioned, your voice a little sharper. "Why didn't your mother—"

"I'm a Mafia hitman, for fuck sake," Vash cuts you off, frustrated now. "IT IS NORMAL TO HAVE SCARS."

"No, it's not!"

He said nothing.

"These tattoos," you said to him, "are you hiding—"

"No," he said, though he said it quietly and cleared his throat. "I'm not ashamed of my scars!"

You blinked. "Then why are you—?"

"Why do you care?" he asks, looking away again. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my life?"

You didn't know, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him you didn't know, but that was not true. For in that very moment, you felt it. You heard the symphony of the clicks, turns, and the echoing creaks of a million keys, unlocking a million doors in your mind. It was like you were finally allowing yourself to see what you thought and felt like you were discovering your long-hidden secrets for the very first time. And then you searched his eyes, surveyed his features for something you couldn't quite articulate. And you realized you didn't want to hate him anymore.

"I thought," you addressed him, "you wanted us to be friends." Your gaze fixated on the floor as you spoke. "If that's the case," you continued, "why can't you be honest? Why are you still trying to manipulate me? Why are you still trying to get me to fall for your tricks?"

"I have no idea," he responded, his gaze fixed upon you with a hint of uncertainty as if questioning the reality of your presence. "No idea what you're talking about."

"I don't even know how to communicate—"

"Why does it matter?" he questioned. "You seem to care so much about something that makes no difference in your life. It wouldn't," he said, "change your perception of me. You will still hate me. After all, that's what you said, isn't it? That you hate me?"

You drew your knees closer to your chest, directing your attention towards the stone beneath your feet. "I don't hate you."

Vash seemed to stop breathing.

"I don't know," you told him, "there are moments when I feel like I truly understand you. I genuinely do. However, just when I believe I have gained a true understanding of who you are, you manage to surprise me. And I never really know who you are or who you're going to be."

Raising your gaze, you met his eyes directly. "Nevertheless," you continued, "what I do know is that I no longer hate you. I've made sincere efforts to do so, believe me. Given the terrible, unforgivable acts you've committed against innocent people, including myself, it would be expected. But as I've come to learn more about you and witnessed the depths of your humanity, it has become increasingly difficult to cling to that hatred. Sadly, you are flawed and undeniably human."

His hair possessed a captivating golden hue while his eyes shimmered with a vivid blue brilliance. His voice was tortured when he spoke. "Are you implying," he said, "that you can accept my offer?"

"I-I don't know," you stammered, petrified by the sheer terror surrounding this possibility. "I'm just saying that I don't know." Pausing briefly, you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts. "I don't know," you confessed. "I don't know how to hate you anymore. Even though I want to, it's something I genuinely want, and I know I should, but I find myself unable to."

He looked away and smiled. The kind of smile that made you forget how to do everything but blink and blink. Perplexed, you couldn't fathom why your eyes refused to divert their attention elsewhere. Your heart, meanwhile, seemed to be losing its mind.

Almost absentmindedly, he touched his wrist, seemingly unaware of his actions. His fingers traced along his arm, gliding back and forth, until he suddenly became cognizant of where your eyes had gone and stopped.

"You sure about what you're saying?" He touched his wrist again.

You nodded.

Upon hearing his word, "Love," a profound stillness encapsulated your being, causing your breath to hitch momentarily. "I would greatly appreciate that," he continued, his voice conveying sincerity. "To have us getting to know each other right from the beginning." Another smile graced his face, radiating warmth and genuine desire. "Yes, I would truly like that," he affirmed.

The workings of your mind eluded your understanding. Perhaps it stemmed from the realization that he was broken, and you were naive enough to think you could fix him. Maybe it was because you saw your own reflection within him. Both of you had experienced abandonment, neglect, mistreatment, and abuse for circumstances beyond your control. In Vash, you saw a kindred spirit, someone who, like you, had been denied a fair shot at life. You thought about how everyone already hated him, how hating him was an accepted fact.

Again, you reminded yourself that Vash was a terrible person with no room for debate, doubt, or inquiry. The consensus had been reached: he was a loathsome human being who derived pleasure from violence, held an insatiable thirst for power, and reveled in the torment of others. But you wanted to know. You needed to know. You had to know if it was really that simple. Because what if, one fateful day, you were to stumble? What if you were to slip through the cracks, and no one extended a helping hand to retrieve you? What would become of you then?

So you met his eyes and took a deep breath.

But in an unexpected turn of events, the metallic door swung open, revealing the entrance of Lucifer, with his gray patterned suit, cold green eyes, and pale blond hair.

Hell was empty, and all devils were here tonight.

*

No one was speaking.

Surprisingly, the basement wasn't a terrible place to spend the cursed birthday night, despite the unsettling odor emanating from the assholes' lifeless bodies. It was relatively peaceful, but the approaching footsteps of his twin sibling served as an irritating accompaniment to an already nerve-wracking day.

God damn you, Bradd, for telling Kni!

"So," Vasg's maniac twin finally addressed him, curiosity lacing their words, "you chose to leave our gathering and return here?"

"I'm certain," Vash responded sarcastically, "I have the freedom to act as I please." There was a brief pause before he continued, "Does this disturb you in any way?"

"Regrettably, that is not the case; I thought you would rather spend your time with those selected girls," Kni replied, and his gaze swept over you, carefully observing you up and down, examining your bloodied outfit, your hair, your pale yet perfect face. Though Kni remained silent, Vash sensed his disapproval and, ultimately, his disappointment towards you. "But you chose this doormat," he finished his sentence.

Abruptly, you turned away, though not without Vash catching a glimpse of your tightly clenched fists at your sides. He could feel the anger emanating from you, and it pained him deeply. The way Kni toyed with your emotions stirred a fierce resentment within Vash, igniting an intense desire to inflict harm upon his brother, even if just a bullet to the leg, but he had to keep it cool.

"Why have you come here, Kni?" Vash inquired, drawing a deep breath and exerting more pressure on his wound as if to ground himself in the midst of the escalating tension.

Kni responded with a casual shrug, displaying the perfect nonchalance. "My plans are flexible," he remarked. "I heard you got shot and was genuinely curious to witness it firsthand." His gaze briefly shifted towards his twin. "Do brothers truly require a specific reason to meet?" And for a moment, the briefest moment, Vash sensed genuine pain behind his words —a sensation of being overlooked. It caught him off guard, surprising him with its presence. But just as quickly as it emerged, it vanished into thin air.

"In any case," Kni remarked, "Bradd should have arrived by now. After all, you contacted him before contacting me, assuming he would care for you more than I do. Yet here you are, clearly in need of medical assistance, and instead, you have this little whore by your side."

As your eyes locked with Vash, your visibly sorrowful gaze conveyed the anguish that resonated deeply with him. He would never reassure you or alleviate your worries in front of Kni, and it wasn't important since he suddenly seized Vash's arm with a firm grip and forcefully pulled him forward.

"What are you doing, Vash?" Kni's voice turned into a fierce, urgent whisper. "You abandoned me, only to end up getting shot—for what? For her? For Gasback's daughter?" His words dripped with disdain. "How incredibly foolish of you. And mark my words, this will not end well." Kni's eyes bore a warning, and instantly, Vash felt it—the unlocking of a long-held secret buried deep within his heart. A terrible sense of unease settled in the pit of Vash's stomach, accompanied by a nauseating feeling and a feeling of dread. And at last, he comprehended what he had been trying to deny: Kni wouldn't hesitate. No, he wouldn't.

Vash tightly pressed his lips together, his anger simmering dangerously close to shattering his composure. Yet, he remained resolute, knowing he had to maintain a semblance of civility for your sake. Meanwhile, Kni's grip on his arm intensified, exerting even more pressure. Their eyes locked in a tense gaze. Only Vash's determination to protect you prevented him from exacting physical retaliation, as he understood that inflicting harm upon Kni would be sufficient grounds for Kni to seek your demise.

"What has become of you?" Kni hissed into Vash's ear, his words laced with disappointment. "I had more faith in you. But this..." Kni trailed off, shaking his head in a gesture of sadness. "This is genuinely heart-wrenching."

Vash's fingers tensed, aching to curl into fists, and he was on the verge of offering a retort when you, who had been observing the exchange from afar, interjected, saying, "Let go of him."

Your voice had an undeniable sense of poise, an undercurrent of barely contained anger that seized Kni's attention. Startled, he released his grip on Vash's arm and swiftly turned to face you. "Your brother requires assistance," you spoke calmly but with an edge of reproach, "and yet here you stand, delivering grandiose speeches?"

Kni stared at you. "Excuse me?"

You stepped forward, suddenly looking terrifying. There was a fire in your eyes—a murderous stillness in your movements.

Kni's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his forehead creasing with astonishment. He blinked, momentarily taken aback, and then a hint of annoyance laced his response. "Ah, I wasn't aware you had been granted permission to speak," he retorted.

"I wasn't aware that I required your permission," you calmly replied, asserting yourself. "Especially considering that this is undeniably his dwelling." Though your hands might have trembled, you had managed to maintain a firm grip, a testament to your resilience and composure—clever girl, but dumb as hell.

Kni's smile widened, and he laughed out loud. And for the first time since he'd arrived, he actually looked sincere. His eyes crinkled with delight. "Little bug, you have a long tongue, and I have sharp knives," he addressed you. Better to say threatened you. "Vash, you've been given too much freedom, and she behaves like a stray dog. Where's her leash? Because your dear Bradd is not here yet, and we have to find a doctor for you since you killed the one we had—which I'm not even questioning—now she looks at me like she gonna bite me if I try to save you from bleeding."

Vash saw that you looked at him then, a question in your eyes. He wanted to smile at you. He wanted to scoop and carry you away, take you somewhere quiet, and lose himself. He was amazed that the timid girl, a little mouse beneath him, would just stand this brave before Kni. Braver than he had ever been. His thoughts should have surprised him, but he blamed the bullet for everything because somehow you looked so fuckable with his blood on your clothes and skin, and he had no shame admitting this to himself. It turned out to be fortunate that he had bled to the point of unconsciousness because, otherwise, in his healthy state, he wouldn't have known how to express his gratitude by making you moan his name with his dick shoved deeply in your throat.

Fuck!

He tried to hold on to it as long as he could without making things evident to Kni, but he thought his heart was still in a puddle somewhere on the floor. He was so stunned that it took him a moment to realize that not only had he stared at you the whole time, but he had also begun to remember what it felt like.

Hope.

The sensation, it was like tasting a drop of honey, witnessing a field of geraniums in full bloom during springtime. It felt like the refreshing touch of rain, a whispered promise of something beautiful, a sky devoid of clouds, and the flawless punctuation mark that gracefully concludes a sentence.

You.

You were…

"I won't be long," Vash said in a firm, cold tone. "Go back to your room and lock the door behind you." He hated himself for acting like this because he could see that you were about to smile, and suddenly your face transformed again. No. He couldn't do this to you.

While still sitting behind Nai, he slowly lowered his hand and crossed his bloody middle finger on his forefinger. His peace sign. And he saw that you saw it because you nodded, and the corner of your lips moved upward. There was a rush of emotion in your eyes. You knew pain. You were in pain, and he was the reason, yet you tried to help. And knowing this made his heart feel so full that he could hardly breathe. It lasted only a few seconds, but somehow, time slowed down long enough for him to gather the many details of this moment and place it among his favorite memories.

You could have left him alone and run away, but you didn't. You likely knew that he would never find that missing piece of belief if you let go. If he slipped today, he would be lost forever, with no one to return him. You didn't fix everything or solve any of his problems. But what mattered most was that you stayed.

He was suddenly grateful for being shot because it made him know that there was still something within him that others could perceive, something worth protecting and saving.

The veiled tapestry of the future held its secrets, concealing what lay ahead. Within the realm of prospective deliverance, his shadows may not have cast a shroud too dense to dim the flicker of redemption's promise.

Note: Apologies for the delayed update. Life has been quite a bitch lately.

Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon - @emptybrain01 - @changingchances @awkwardchick87

[the-himawari]

A3! Hyodo Kumon - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Feature (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Misumi: We’ve finished changing~.

Kazunari: Everyone looks totes adorbs as ever~!

Tenma: The last time I put this costume on was for Rio’s earlier spin-off story.

Kumon: Look, Director! I brought my plushie Chacha with me. Can Chacha watch the show from the audience?

Izumi: Sure, I don’t mind.

Kumon: Awesome, thanks! I’m gonna go and be right back, ‘kay!

*runs off*

Tenma: I didn’t think he’d bring it all the way here…

Kazunari: Eh, it’s fine! That’s what today’s star Kumopi wants to do!

Misumi: Kumon looked happy when he said he wants Chacha to watch~.

-pause-

Kumon: Thanks for waiting!

Izumi: Everyone looks all set. Alright, let’s start filming!

-pause-

Izumi: (Rio and Chacha are unwinding and relaxing in Jack’s room.)

Chacha [Kumon]: “*Sigh*~. I’m stuffed!”

Rio [Tenma]: “The food today hit the spot.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “…Huh? Jack’s getting ready to leave!” “Where are you going, Jack? Take me with you!”

Jack: “Hm? Do you want to play? There, there. We’ll take our time and play once I come back home, alright?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Ehehe~. It feels nice getting pats from Jack~.”

Rio [Tenma]: “Oi, don’t let the petting fool you. We’re going to get left behind if we don’t hold our ground! I’m sure Jack is heading to the bar.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Ah! It felt so good, I forgot!” “If he’s going to the bar, then I’d like to see Ray and Ruy. We have to make him bring us!”

Rio [Tenma]: “I’ll back you up. Jack, take us with you!”

Jack: “What’s this? You want to play too, Rio? I’m going out, so you two should play together and wait for me.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “That’s not it! We’re going with you!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Guh, he’s not getting our message…”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Ah, I know! If we take our leashes that we use for walks and show it to Jack…”

Jack: “Leashes? Oh, do you guys want to go with me?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Yeah! That’s right, Jack!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Did he finally get it?”

Jack: “So that’s what you want. My bad. Well, alright… let’s go out together then.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Yay~!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Jack spoils us quite a bit, doesn’t he?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “That goes to show how much he loves us!”

-pause-

Izumi: (The bar’s mascot dogs greet the two dogs who arrived with Jack.)

Ray [Misumi]: “Chacha, Rio. You’re here.”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “Welcome.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Ray, Ruy! It’s the first time in a while!”

Rio [Tenma]: “I never thought this place would become Jack’s favourite shop.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Hehe. I’m glad! Because of that, we get to see Ray and Ruy all the time, just like this!”

Izumi: (Ever since Ray and Ruy saved them from the mafia guard dogs behind the store…) (The four have actually met several times and became good friends with each other.)

Jack: “Haha, you sure get along well. I’ll be having a drink over there, so you boys be good, alright?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Okay!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Ray, Ruy. Has the public safety around here been alright these days?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “There hasn’t been anything troubling you?”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “It’s been fine.”

Ray [Misumi]: “We get some drunk patrons at the bar from time to time though.”

Rio [Tenma]: “I see. Give us a holler anytime something happens.”

Izumi: (Rio and Chacha follow in the footsteps of Jack who’s a police officer… Fufu, it makes me smile no matter how many times I see it.)

Chacha [Kumon]: “…Huh?” “Is it just me or is that customer…”

Rio [Tenma]: “Why’d you go silent all of a sudden?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “That man over there is kind of suspicious. He’s been glancing around and fidgeting for a while now.”

Ray [Misumi]: “Huh? Which man?”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “…You’re right. He’s acting shady.”

Rio [Tenma]: “It is strange…”

Suspicious man: “…”

Chacha [Kumon]: “! He left the store without paying his bill! He drank and dashed!” “We gotta chase after him!”

*runs off*

Rio [Tenma]: “Oi, Chacha!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “I’ll go after him, so you go get Jack!”

Ray [Misumi]: “We’ll go with you!”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “Leave Chacha to us!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Urgh, got it! I’m counting on you!”

-pause-

Chacha [Kumon]: “Darn it~. That guy… where the heck did he go?” “*Sniff, sniff*… that’s his scent! Over here!”

Ray [Misumi]: “Yeah. That’s his scent, alright.”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “Let’s go!”

*runs*

Chacha [Kumon]: “AH!”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “I can see him up ahead!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “I won’t let him get away! Woof, woof, woof!!”

*runs*

Izumi: (Chacha runs at full speed, faster than he’s ever run before. He throws himself into the man who just happened to stop.)

*hits*

Suspicious man: “GYAHH!?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “You there! Pay up!”

Ray [Misumi]: “You’re charged with drinking and dashing!”

Ruy [Kazunari]: “You're not going to get away with this! Bark, bark!”

Suspicious man: “W-what the hell is up with these dogs! Stop! Let go of me!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Are you alright, Chacha!? I’ve brought Jack with me!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Jack, I caught the drinker and dasher!”

Jack: “W-what’s going on? I was suddenly dragged here by Rio…” “Hm? Was this guy at the bar earlier?”

Rio [Tenma]: “That’s right! He didn’t pay his bill!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “He drank his fill and ran for it! Woof, woof!”

Jack: “With the way Chacha and Rio are acting… I assume this guy did something.” “Police here. I’d like to speak with you.”

Suspicious man: “Gah…! U-uhh…”

-pause-

Izumi:  (A few days after that incident…)

Chacha [Kumon]: “I can see the ocean from this park! It feels great~!”

Rio [Tenma]: “We’ve never been here before.”

Jack: “Chacha, Rio. Thanks to you two, we were able to catch the drinker and dasher.” “Especially you, Chacha. You did amazing stopping the criminal in his tracks.” “Another job well done, you two!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Ehehe~!”

Rio [Tenma]: “It was nothing. We’re Jack’s dogs, after all!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Yeah! It’s our job to protect the citizens!”

Rio [Tenma]: “You got that right!”

Jack: “Here. I bought a new toy as your reward.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Hooray! A reward~! What did you buy for us!?”

Jack: “It’s a frisbee.”

Rio [Tenma]: “Isn’t that what you’ve been dying to get, Chacha?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Right. I had my eye on that toy! How did you know, Jack!?”

Jack: “There, there. Are you happy?”

Chacha [Kumon]: “I’m elated!”

Jack: “That’s great. Let’s play.”

Chacha [Kumon]: “Okay!”

Rio [Tenma]: “You got it.”

Jack: “Alright, I’m going to throw it. Here goes!”

Rio [Tenma]: “Chacha, let’s compete to see who can catch it first!”

Chacha [Kumon]: “You're on. I’m not gonna lose! Woof, woof!”

Izumi: (Chacha and Rio run off cheerfully with a skip in their step…)

-pause-

Kumon: Ha~. What great weather~.

Muku: Chacha and William look like they feel good drying in the sun too.

Kumon: Hehe, you’re right! Mmm, even so… Chacha watched the spin-off but he hasn’t appeared in my dreams. I’m pretty sure I cherish him as much as Jack does. I wonder if I still don’t have enough love for Chacha…

Muku: This is just my opinion… but I think it’s the opposite.

Kumon: The opposite? What do you mean?

Muku: I'm sure he hasn’t been appearing in your dreams because you’re taking good care of him. From what Tenma-kun said about his plushie Rio, it sounds like Rio also stopped appearing in his dreams after Tenma-kun started taking care of him. Isn’t Chacha the same way? Chacha’s really happy with how much you care for him. It feels like you’re communicating even if you don’t dream about him. I think that's wonderful in its own way.

Kumon: I see. Good point..! It’s because I cherish him that I don’t dream about him… I’m glad if that’s the reason! Thanks, Muku! Hehe. Let’s keep getting along from here on out, Chacha!

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