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m-jelly · 5 months

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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.

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 months

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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.

#cookie writes #kimchay #kinnporsche #Kim thinks he's not a sex worker #surprise he becomes Chay's secret sugar baby and has no idea #(jk it actually causes A Lot Of Problems in their relationship)#(but that's a post for a later date)#Khun and Macau are also going to be adorable #love-hate relationship peak right thre #they fight all day long but then Macau is alone and afraid #Kim and vegas gone for the night #he curls up with Khun for comfort #i have So Many Feelings about this au #i've been percolating on it for week s #spinning it around in my brian #crunching on it #it's that good shit

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neontoad · 7 months

Text

“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.

#bsd #skk #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #soukoku #fluff #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #chuuya #dazai #established skk #they warm my heart so much #mini fic

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blizzardfluffykpop · 4 months

Text

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.

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shintin · 8 months

Text

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

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explicit-tae · 2 years

Text

Public Enemy (Part 2)

Masterlist

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Mafia!Jimin Camgirl!Reader

Warnings: smut, camgirl, dirty talk, blowjobs, reverse cowgirl, ejaculation, jimin ruining lives and shit, spitting, sex toys, creampie, riding, dom!jimin

Word Count: 10,440

Description: After the sudden death of your boyfriend, Shin, of 2 years - by the hands of what you assume was a rival of his - you find yourself in deep shit. He assisted in paying your college tuition and other expenses you needed for school. Once the bill runs high and you're threatened with expulsion, you need money fast. Your decision to work as a camgirl wasn't your first option, but may be your only one.

You hug your figure upon entering the club. You've never been here, yet here you stand, biting your lip. You've taken the decision upon yourself to confront the man that decided to ruin your life for the mere fun of it. Maybe it wasn't a great idea - but you refused to not take matters into your own hands. After all, you had nothing else to lose - he's already taken it all.

You questioned - as you strolled by seas of people - if this was a good idea to be here. It wasn't as though you were dressed fittingly for the occasion - a long sleeved black fitted shirt and a skirt that stopped at your thighs. You felt underdressed once you entered and witnessed the many bodies of women clothed in much sexy attire.

Your feet lead you to the bar while your eyes scan for something - anything - related to Jimin. Maybe a little liquid courage would assist you in your conquest. It wasn't as though you had anything to pay towards your University now thanks to this man.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asks, a man with burgundy dyed hair and a nose ring asks as you arrive.

You scan the many amount of options displayed at the bar. "Whiskey." you respond, going to take a seat at the crowded bar. "Just a shot."

You examine as the man goes to pour you a shot. You weren't a drinker in the slightest, so when he sets the shot in front of you, you baby sit it. Holding it in your hands you examine the bar area.

You yelp when you feel your shot being snatched from your hands. You widen your eyes and go to turn to see who the person was.

"O-Oh." You murmur, scanning the familiar face standing besides you.

"I watched you sit with a good shot far too long." the voice of Shin's ex says, hearing her voice perfect through the music and chattering voices.

She sits nexts to you, her hands in her lap as she waits for your response. You noticed her dress, black bodycon, sit against her figure.

"N-Not a drinker." you stutter. You recalled this was the woman who was speaking with the only familiar man at Shin's funeral. You come to know she was Shin'a longest girlfriend.

"I'm not going to eat you." She laughs, a soft blush on her cheeks. Maybe she had more to drink than she led on. "Nice to formally meet you..."

"Y/N." you answered, nodding at her. Your nerves were still sky high, not expecting to be in her presence anytime soon - if not, at all. You didn't speak to her - or anyone besides your friend, Iseul - at the funeral nor did you have any intentions to.

"Hm," she hums. "cute." she murmurs. "You don't look old enough to graduate medical school so you must be the one with the tuition fees."

Your cheeks flush and suddenly, your throat is dry. You wished you had the chance to down the shot. "I-I...he told you?" you ask. "Or-"

"I found out after my card declined at a grocery store." she giggles, shaking her head at the memory not long ago. "Then when I go to the bank," the bartender sets down two more shots, one in front of you and her and nods. "I get told that I'm broke and he goes into," she lifts the shot to her lips and downs it. She coughs and shudders. "that was rough. Anyways, he goes into our savings to pay for tuition fees and medical school."

You widen your eyes, your heart now pounding. Now, you feel horrible. You didn't know anyone's situation or how much he funded others'lives. But, you were aware Shin was a giving person. He paid for your tuition fees and funded your lifestyle along with the apartment close to your University. "I'm sorry-"

"Did you know?" you shut your mouth at her interruption. "That you weren't the only one?"

You shake your head. Upon meeting Shin, his demeanor wasn't one of a man who had many women under his belt. While the two of you were out, he didn't entertain the amount of women who would throw themselves his way and try to catch his eyes. Your mind couldn't comprehend how much money one man can spend between 4 women.

"Then I can't blame you. You have no need to apologize." You let out a sigh of relief at her words. You were glad she wasn't upset with you. "I'm sure you've had enough grief since his death."

If she only knew.

"What brings you here?" she asks you and leans against the bar table. "You should drink that." she points to the shot in front of you.

You take a deep breath and do. You take the shot and gag, almost throwing up the disgusting whiskey in the back of your throat. You manage not to and opt to cough instead. You hear giggling coming for next to you and you feel hot with embarrassment.

"You aren't a drinker, I see." she tells you. "Here," she grabs a few napkins and hands them to you. "you have whiskey on your cheeks."

"Thanks." you murmur. You managed to humiliate yourself more than you desired.

"So," the woman pushes herself closer to you. "tell me. I'm all ears."

You wipe your mouth and tilt your head. "T-Tell you what?" you ask. "Do you honestly care how shit my life has become since Shin's death?"

She shrugs but there's curiosity in your eyes telling you that - yes, she did indeed want to know how shitty your life was. Maybe because she had already opened up to you about her own situation.

"Well I suppose it started when I realized there were 3 other women crying at my supposed boyfriends funeral." you mumble but then laugh at how insane the situation was and the 4 different point of views.

To say that your parents were proud of you would be a lie. They were great parents - truly! However, they often told you that you lived in a fantasy world. They wanted you to live the life they couldn't- to attend an exceptional college as a lawyer or doctor and make them proud enough to brag. You got accepted to Seoul, but not as what they desired.

"It's never too late to change!" Your mother told you on your second semester as an art major. "There's no money in that business. How would you support yourself?" was your fathers words.

Regardless of what they thought, you stood it out. Art was what you loved and though they considered it a hobby and not a career, they couldn't force you to do something you didn't wish to.

When you met Shin you were over the moon. You never thought someone of his nature - confident, outgoing and independent - would decide to aak you out on a date. He made you feel whole - welcomed. He encouraged you to further your career as an art major. He gave you artsy gifts - canvas and expensive brush sets and paints and has you paint for him often. It felt amazing to have someone appreciate your passion.

"Who are you to the patient?" a doctor asked, her voice booming over your head. You gulp, your head racing back through the memories of your boyfriend and you.

"I-I..he's my boyfriend." You murmur to the doctor. You watch her expression change, a look of hurt and confusion evident. "Is everything-"

"You can wait here." the doctor says, turning on her heels and sauntering away. You snapped your mouth shut as you watched her back. You were defeated.

If someone would have told you that you would be painting in your apartment - rented and paid for by your boyfriend, Shin - and waiting for said boyfriend when you heard 2 gunshots just outside your door to see him on the ground bleeding to his death...you would have laughed. Even suggested whoever told you to write a movie script.

But here you were in Seoul's busiest hospital covered in Shin's blood. It's been hours since you saw the doctor who questioned you and anyone you would ask concerning Shin's condition would either ignore you or state that you needed to wait for the surgeon.

"Y/N."

"I'm fine." Was your immediate response.

"You were drifting off again..." the voice, Iseul - a friend of yours from University, had murmured. Her eyes drifted around the grassy area.

You take a deep breath, wiping your tears. You shouldn't be crying now - especially when it concerned Shin. The man you loved and adored; who catered to you and your dreams was nothing but a facade of what he truly was. A cheated - and that made you no better in your eyes. Believing that a man of his nature would be genuine in returning your feelings for you and not for what you gave hin in return.

"I feel so stupid being here." You murmur to your friend, Iseul's eyes casting to your own. "When there's other women here crying for the same man I thought was my...never mind."

Iseul's hands rest themselves on your back. She inches closer to you. "I'm sorry you had to go through this." she says into your ear.

You were grateful to make a friend in Seoul that was as kind as Iseul is. She often put your needs first in any situation - no matter if life was hitting her just as hard. She sat with you for hours at the hospital as you cried on her shoulder. She consoled you with the discovery of Shin's affairs and relationships with other women - all without judgment.

"Do you know anyone here?" Iseul asks, pondering ask she looked around.

You shake your head. "Not really." you respond. You see a few familiar faces - a dew feet away from you stood the doctor who asked who you were to Shin. Ironically, she was in the same position as you and now that you thought back to her behavior towards you, you understood. Across from you you recognized a man, dark hair and doe eyes, conversing with another woman - one of Shin's many girlfriends no doubt - while she glared him. Whoever that man was, he was the inly familiar face here upon people.

"Should we go?" you ask Iseul. "It feels wrong being here. I'm not even sure when I stand in this situation."

You bite your lip, eyes glances at the women around you before sighing. You hadn't spoken to any of them at your arrival and they hadn't attempted to. Maybe it was easier that way - to pay your respects to Shin - what little respect you had left for him - and be on you way.

Your eyes catch a pair of dark ones staring back at you. You furrow a brow at the unfamiliar man watching you with hooded eyes. He stood far away, dressed nearly similar as as the five other men surrounded him and the one man across from you speaking with Shin's girlfriend. You didn't know who he was to Shin, but you assumed someone he worked with - the shady drug business.

You shivered, the idea that anyone of these men here could not be who you think they are at first glance - far too attractive to not have anything morally wrong with them. "Let's go, Iseul."

"I salute you." You hear the woman say across from you, raising her shot glass before downing it. "Going against your parents for the right reasons...unlike me."

"Are you sure you should keep drinking?" you question, yet you enjoyed her company and compliments.

"They're free." she shrug. "So you like...paint?" she questions, mind foggy at the idea of an art student. When you nod she smiles. "Well, that's nice I can say. Okay continue. But I have to pee so..." she points her head to the right. "...follow me."

"Are you alright?!" Iseul screams as she slams your door to your room open, wide eyes and arms up ready to pounce on anything threatening to harm you. She had heard you scream loudly - out of frustration - and didn't waste any time in getting to you.

You frown, ignoring her loud intrusion and continue to read the email sent to you by your University. You sat cross-legged onto your bed, laptop in your lap. Iseul steps closer to you, arms crossed at how nonchalant you now looked after the blood scream you let out not long ago.

"Y/N I swear-"

"I don't have enough for this semester." You murmur to her, glancing up to see her face. Iseul frowns back with slumped shoulders. "Shin just paid last semester fees and..." you sigh once more. You slam your laptop shut and lean back against your head board.

Iseul lowers herself onto your bed. There wasn't much else she can say - she offered to help you pay for college. She herself didn't pay and had full support from her parents - you envied her - but you refused. You got yourself in this mess when you got comfortable with Shin's money and now, you had to dig yourself out of this hole.

"I could help-"

"Don't." You interrupt her. "I'm an adult. I made adult decisions and now I have to make some more to get out of this mess." Your hands massage your temples. It wasn't as if you didn't have a job - you did. It was a coffee shop - however cheesy and cliche it was as a University student - but you had one. When you met Shin, he suggested that you lessen your hours to only two days a week (only because you refused to quit like he suggested). Luckily, you had the job still and all you had to do was work more hours.

Iseul nods. "Well," she coughs. She avoids your eyes - she was hiding something. "are you sure you can manage the cost of tuition plus rent?"

Rent. You slapped your forehead and groan. While you were caught in the moment with tuiton fees and withering in your own self pity, you completly failed to remember that you lived in an apartment fully paid for and furnished by Shin.

"Not even mentioning the car. I'm sure it isn't paid off." You say more to yourself than Iseul. "I hate him." you snicker. "I hate myself more, however."

Iseul lets out a low giggle. "You shouldn't hate yourself. You didn't ask to be in this situation." she wraps you in a one arm hug. "If you stop being stubborn and allow me to help you."

"You can help me by supporting me. All I need is a friend by my side." You tell her. Iseul was the only one who knew of your current financial situation and the mess that was Shin. You didn't even bother telling your parents about Shin - a man who worked for a shady business that made him thousands of dollars so quickly. That would be asking for a disaster.

"Always." Iseul smiles. "Now, I'm going to go back to cooking. I thought you were getting murdered here." she hisses out the last part and makes her way out of your bedroom.

As you watch her close the door, you grab hold of your laptop, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You open your laptop and type into the search bar. You haven't hit this low in a long time - and before you had hit this low was before you met Shin. At around the right time you add. You didn't have to do what you were thinking about doing now.

The cam site changed in the span of two years and you had to click on 'forgot password' to enter the account you made years ago. When you got in you gulped, questioning just what you had to do first to become a cam girl. You started by clicking the premium option - paying for a quicker outcome just might be the right option to do to get your content out at a faster pace. More subscirbers the better.

"Ohhh!" you hear her voice as she comes out of the stall and goes to wash her hands. "So, you're a cam girl? How is that?"

You shrug your shoulders. "Money's money." you respond to her, unsure how you exactly feel about the situation yourself. You knew you had a few loyal subscribers that paid a big price to subscribe to you and even tip you while you livestream and with that you can fund your life. However, this wasn't what you wanted to do forever.

"True." she nods her head and turns off the faucet water. She looks over herself in the mirror, her eyes glancing at you through the reflection. "Does your friend know?"

You shake your head. "I can't tell her." you exclaim.

"Is she a prude?"

"No. I just..." you tilt your head and let out a breath. "Don't want her to be disappointed in me. Or anyone in my life. The less people that know the better."

She nods her head. "I agree." she turns around to face you. "So what brings you here then?"

You take a deep breathe. Your eyes watch the screen of your laptop, reading the comments of your subscribers coming in. You had sent out a notification informing them that you would be livestreaming today. You were sure by a miracle that you had enough to bring money in with their tipping. Of course, it wasn't big bucks but it was enough to get you onto a payment plan with your University.

It has already been 2 weeks since the funeral and about a week since the emails you received from your school threatening expulsion due to tuition fees. Any money you managed went to them - from the small cafe where you worked extra hours depending on tips to now caming during the night. If your parents saw you now, you pondered how disappointed that would be.

"Okay..." you murmur to yourself, a little pep talk before you start the stream. As you press a few buttons, you smile sweetly at the camera. You watch the screen, the messages of loyal subscribers praising you. "Do you guys like the outfit?" you question, your hands rubbing your nake thighs. "It was a gift from one of you. I love the way it fits."

You accepted gifts - only sent through P.O box where you obtain from the post office. If a subscriber had a special request for you - it being lingerie, sayings, even by you moaning a name - it was all a fee your subscribers were willing to pay. A win-win, you suppose. Today you wore a specific outfit sent by a subscriber - a typical school girls outfit.The tight white button up shirt hugged you tightly - you wore no bra and made sure your ac was turned low enough for your nipples to be hard before your arousal kicked in. The plaid skirt didn't leave anything to the imagination and instead of wearing the lace underwear he bought for you, you decided to spice things up with the crotchless underwear you already had.

"I'm so excited to use a new toy I was also gifted." you giggle, enjoying the amount of tips coming through. "It's right behind me."

You were adtonished by the amount of items you got from one subscriber - but this was where you were left speechless. Usually, during your livestreams, you opt to vibrators and dildos. It did the trick each time - for you and your subscribers. But, this wasn't a dildo. It was the whole thing - a male sex doll, just the lower half, however - starting from the belly button and stopping at the thighs.

You turned over, your ass in the camera as you did so. You purposely arch your back and spread your thighs. You lower your head and wrap your lips around the rubber cock of the, sucking it sloppily, making sure the camera had enough view of your ass and the sucking. You were already wet and wanted to speed the process up - sucking a rubber cock wasn't your thing - but it could be for the amount you charged the subscriber for.

Jimin's eyes glue to the screen as he watches your livestream. You lift your lips up from the rubber cock - a gift from him along with the school girl's lingerie. It cost him a hefty amount - you had a fee for everything. But, that didn't stop him. He had more than enough money to spend - especially when it came to you.

"You're so big, Jimin." he hears you moan. His throat runs dry and his eyes widen in shock. He nearly forgot he paid an extra fee - the most expensive - for you to say his name. Jimin quickly throws his pants off and takes hold of the lube beside him. Squirting it into hands, he touches his exposed cock, pre-cum already dripping from his tip. To think you had just started and he was already prepared to cum.

"I can't wait to fuck you." you moan, kicking your knees over the side of the sex doll, positioning yourself over the tip of it. Jimin breathes in, his eyes fiaxed on your wet clit, the crotchless underwear you wore leaving nothing to hide. You rub the tip of the cock against your pussy, your moans are like heavy to his ears. He starts to pump his olwn cock, unable to wait for you any longer.

"Fuck!" Jimin hisses. He observes you through hooded eyes.

You place the cock at your entrance and slowly sit down. Your soft yelp makes him bite his lips. You waste no time in riding the dildo, your pussy gripping it. He knew you were tight - you had to be. You only fucked yourself with dildos or your fingers - oftentimes he would imagine it was his own fingers inside of you, feeling out your juices. He would finger you until you beg and pleaded with him to stop, but he wouldn't. Who would when they had the tightest most sweetest pussy in front of them.

"I love your cock so much Jimin!" you moan out, eyes now shut as you continue to ride. "It was as though your cock was made for me and me only."

Jimin wants to push his head and shut his eyes, but the spell you cast upon him doesn't allow him to. No, instead his eyes watch the way your ass bounces as you ride. He enjoys the way your clit is engorged - he pokes his tongue out of his mouth wishing he could just have a taste of it. He could see it - your juices dripping down your thighs. The sound of him roughly pumping his cock to the site of you could be heard throughout his room - he was thankful he had his own home because he would be caught dead if he lived with his brothers.

"F-Fuck...shit." you groan out, removing the cock from your pussy. You turn around and face the camera and Jimin nearly cums. He has to halt his pumping at the sight of you. Your own hooded eyes laced with lust, bottom lip between your teeth and sweat on your forehead. "Your cock feels so good." you lick your lips. "And I'm the only one that's going to feel good on your cock."

Jimin nods as if you were there with him right now. You weren't, but soon you would be - he was sure of it.

You proceed to get into position, now facing the camera. You enter the cock inside you again, your breast now outside the buttoned shity, your nipples hard. Jimin couldn't wait until those nipples were in his mouth - he would suck them until they were swollen. The things he would do to you.

You sit fully on the cock now, head thrown back. Jimin proceeds to pump his cock at the sight. Your breast bounced at the fast pace you were riding. Your right hand cups your breast, pinching your nipples.

"You're such a cock-hungry whore." Jimin grunts out, his eyes flickering from your clit, to your face and your fingers pinching your nipples. "Always coming back for more no matter how much of my money I give you."

"I'm about to cum, Jimin..." you moan out, your voice is getting higher. Your pace quickens, still riding. Your hands trails down to your clit and you rub circles. "...I'm going t cum all over your dick, Jimin. P-Please can I cum?"

"Ugh...fuck baby," Jimin shakes his head. He was near his own high. "Cum all over my cock..." he grunts, his eyes closing. His ears can hear how wet your pussy is - your fingers playing with your clit roughly and you crashing down on the cock.

"Fuck I'm cumming!" you choke out.

"Me, too, baby!" Jimin holds his breath, his pumping going sloppy and soon, you're cumming right along with him. His cum shoots out and lands on his thigh, the warm liquid sliding down in inner thigh. He takes a deep breath, twitching at how hard he came because of you. After a few minutes to catch his breath, he opens his eyes to see you removing yourself slowly from the cock.

"Thank you all for watching." Jimin hears your whimper. He smiles at how shy you suddenly were. "And thank you Jimin for allowing me to cum."

You were going to be the death of him.

You remained quiet, waiting for her to say something else after you explained your livestream situation. You gulp, cheeks reddening. "Are you going to say anything?"

"I didn't know you were such a freak." she admitted, breaking out in a fit of giggles. "I suppose it's the quiet ones."

You couldn't help but join her in laughing.

"But," she crosses her arms and leans against the sink. "I think we need to talk about Jimin."

"I already know about that crazy son of a bitch." you hiss, a sudden change in demenour. "He's the reason why I'm here tonight."

"What's your plan?" she asks. "To get him to sign a will? That's what I'm doing."

"A will?" you question. "No, I just...ugh I just want to strangle him. He left me with nothing!" you screech.

She furrows a brow. "Do tell, girl."

"Before I do," you tilt your head. "What is this about a will?"

You shrug. "There's power in pussy." you respond. "I've decided to let Jungkook fund my lifestyle in exchange for me," she likes her hands and begins to do air quotations. "loyalty and devotion. And a child."

You yelp. "Jungkook? Wait is that the-"

"Yes he is." she says, shrugging. "I've lived too well with Shin to up and get a job now. Besides, as long as I'm on anything he owns that is legal then I don't see the problem."

You hum.

"Go on. I feel like we're just getting to the good part."

"What the hell?" you shout as you sprint towards your car. You looked ridiculous in your pajamas, sure, but you didn't waste any time when you awoke hearing banging on your door. It was a few kids from your apartment complex - they were all warning you of the man repossessing your car. "I still have a whole month until the payment is due!"

"That indeed you do." the man says, your car halfway onto the large truck. "However, you aren't on the title of this car, unfortunately. And we've been told that the actual owner is deceased."

Your fists clenches and you want to tell him off -to scream and yell at him because damn did all of this mess manage to piss you off more than it should. How long did you have to be reminded that Shin was dead - you already worked doubles at the cafe and livestream for hundreds of men at night. All of your money went towards University and only relied on gifts from subscribers if you wanted (more needed) anything new.

"How did you find out?" was what you asked after you took a few minutes to calm down. "And can I get a few belongings before you take it?"

"I'm not sure myself. I just came to repossess." the man responds. "You can, just make it fast. I have more lots to hit before I'm off."

You bite your tongue back from a snarky remark. Now you were beyond humiliated - this was a luxury apartment for fucks sake! You were now caught with a dead mans car and they're repossessing it in front of your neighbors. You appeared utterly pathetic at this point.

As if your humiliation wasn't enough in front if your neighbors, the letter on your door possibly adds fuel to the already burning fire. You snatch the letter of eviction from your door and read - blood boiling at this point in time. You read over snd over again, your mind not comprehending how these people know of Shin's death so soon. Even in the eviction letter, they stated that the renter is "deceased". Did people such as them have access to information?

A notification ding rips you from your thoughts. It was an email, you felt the vibration of your phone from your back pocket. You crumble the paper in your hand and make your way inside your home. You take your phone out and look through your notifications - one catching your eye.

It was from the caming site, a direct message sent by a certain someone - Jimin. You recalled your caming session with the man of the same name in which you moaned to. You came hard that day, never having such a sex toy as the one he got you. You wonder if he has any other requests for you.

Jimin had to be a rich old man who had his own sick fantasies for young women. Your prices were high - just for him - and he paid it all effortlessly, never forgetting to tip you.

You opened the message quickly and read. You noticed the instant payment he sends that wires directly to your bank account and gulp. It was a total amount of ₩3,000,000.

Your eyes scan through his words, his requests for you to meet him. Now you were afraid - you didn't want to lose Jimin as a subscriber. The man was obviously rich and didn't have shit else to do with his money besides spend it on you. But you didn't want to meet these men at all - you were simply a camgirl, nothing more.

p.jm: I can see you read my message, kitty.

You gulp , throat dry at his sudden response. He was waiting for you to respond.

p.jm: Do you need more won for convincing?

You begin typing but was unsure of what to say. ₩3,000,000 was a lot of money for one more to speak with you, and the fact that he offered even more was downright insane of him.

₩3,000,000 more deposits itself to your bank account - now you're shaking with wide eyes. You manage to type and send a message to him.

you: you've sent me enough!

you: im not sure if i can meet with you. i'm willing to send back your money?

p.jm: Don't.

You tilt your head, waiting for another response.

p.jm: It's your money, after all.

p.jm: Name your price. And I'll send it.

You bite your bottom lip, hands shakily responding.

you: what is it that you want exactly?

p.jm: Whatever you're willing to give me

p.jm: But if that comes out too forward - how about dinner?

You had to know how lonely this old man was to not have anyone there that he would settle on thousands to give to you just for that.

Were you the one in the wrong for contemplating it? You didn't know this man - he could be a killer for all you did know. This could be his way to capture and literally murder you.

That or he could be a greasy old man who preyed off of you pussy - your first thought.

p.jm: How about I pay you extra the day of?

you: you've already paid me enough!

p.jm: There's no limit when it comes to you

p.jm: If you make up your mind, meet me here around 6

He sends you an address. You are quick to look it up to sigh in relief. It was a public place, thankfully. If you did decide to go at least it wouldn't be in a secluded area like his home.

You take a deep breath and exit the chat. You had a lot to think about, but you almost felt ill to know that you were questioning yourself on going. He paid you double, and was willing to pay triple when you arrived. Plus, you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to. Just dinner and talking, and at the end of the night you'll run for the hills.

You were nervous - that was evident. You were able to catch the bus to Persona, the club not far. You never been here - not even with Shin and you've been to a lot of places with the man. You entered the club. It wasn't open yet and you pondered just why he would send you here. Upon entry you felt unwelcomed. A few employees eyed you with questioning looks. Behind the bar a few bartender tilted their heads as you strolled in. You were about to leave, embarrassed that you possibly had the wrong location when you're stopped.

"Are you waiting for Park-nim?"

You turn towards the voice. It was one of the bartenders, a fitted black button up shirt with matching black pants eyes you as he wipes a few glasses.

"I-I, Um, I'm not sure." you murmur. "Is that...Jimin?"

The bartender halts his cleaning. He glances around the other employees around you who equally halt.

"Maybe I..have the wrong-"

"No!" a waitress, a nervous laugh coming from her throat. "Please sit! Did you want something to drink?"

"I can take your coat here, noona!" a young male bartender offers.

The change in demeanor was confusing, but you shake your head. "It's alright-"

"I'll go get Park-nim for you." the bartender bows. "Everyone out. Now."

You examine as the remaining bartenders and cocktail waitresses scurry to leave. What in the world had shifted in their behavior towards you?

Soon you're left alone in the middle of the large club. You decide to sit at the bar and wait - maybe Jimin was the owner. He had to be, the employees flocking around by just the sound of his name.

You peeled your coat off of you, sitting it aside. You take a deep breath - the employees must've called you desperate to be here waiting for an old man to have dinner with you.

"Hello." a smooth voice sounds behind you. You yelp, goosebumps prickling your skin at how close the voice sounds.

Your head turns and suddenly your mind leaves your body. You're tongue tied when the man hovers dight above you, his eyes staring down into yours. "Y-You're-"

"Jimin." he responds, his voice low and angelic. "Park Jimin."

You sit back, your back against the bar island. "I-I...you're not old." you stammer our, and immediately slap yourself mentally at your words. "I-I mean...I know you." you reveal, your eyes squinting slightly to understand just where you knew this man from.

Park Jimin was familiar - yet you didn't out your finger on it. You would - without a doubt - recognize a man in this nature. Blond hair parted down the middle with chubby cheeks - yet the sharpest jaw line you've seen. He wore all black - black v-cut shirt with black pants and Chelsea bolts to match. His eyes were captivating and inviting and you swore you noticed a pink hue to her eyelids.

"We have met." Jimin nods in agreement. "By happenstance. So sad about the death of your partner."

You widen your eyes as realization dawn upon you. He was the same man that you had caught looking at you at Shin's funeral - this time his hair dyed blond. You would've told yourself that you could never forget a face like his. Something deep down in your core told you that this couldn't be a coincidence that this man entered your life again.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he inches closer to you, a sweet smell if mint on him.

"I feel so mortified." you admit. You knew the risks of being a cam girl but you prayed that whoever was watching you was not someone you knew in real life - or even met for that matter.

"There's no need to." Jimin lifts his hand to carees your cheek softly. Your skin grows hot and your head is starting to get dizzy. The closeness between the two of you makes you feel intoxicated.

He wasn't an old man - an old man with wrinkles and the old-person-scent (that didn't necessarily smell good or bad - just bland). He wasn't a creep who fed off of the energy of a young women - he was a wealthy, attractive and enchanting man. And you knew that was worse.

"Are you hungry?" Jimin steps away, his smile widening at your gaze upon him. "We have a kitchen here. They normally specialize in bar food, but they can make whatever you like."

Not long after Jimin and you are eating pa-jun pairing with the dipping sauce. It was something light and easy to eat while both of you converse. Jimin spoke of his business - the club that was Persona and the reasoning behind it. But, you were no fool to know that it was much more than Persona. Persona was the legal side of his business. If he was connected to Shin in any way, there was always a much darker side to this.

"What about you?" Jimin sips his wine - weird to have at a club, but he was the owner after all. "What do you do?"

Your eyes met his and you couldn't help but flush. It was as though he was taunting you. He knew what you did for money; after all he was your main source of income.

"I-I'm an art major." you respond to him, glancing around the quiet club to avoid his eyes. "I attend the University of Seoul."

Jimin nods his head. "What type of art do you partake in?" he questions. "I enjoy performing arts."

You hum. Jimin's physique - slim but firm - told you that much. You wondered if he enjoyed permoring the arts himself or better watching it. "I enjoy all types." you admit. "I'm not a great performer, however."

Jimin tilts his head to the side as he stares at you. "I think you'd be a great performer." he tells you. Your eyes catch his and the gleam in his eyes tells you everything you need to know about his words. You remain quiet, unable to respond to him. Jimin was a smooth talker and an obvious natural flirt. He knew how to get a women to blush and clench your legs - that's all you've done the entire time you and him spoke with one another.

This was not your intention - not at all. Again, your first impression of Jimin was an old man that chased after young women. However, Jimin was as enchanting as ever. He was attractive - and he knew it. He spoke and strolled around the club like a king in a castle. He stood tall and held his head high with confidence. He toured you around his quiet club, insuring you that he would be opening later on in the night.

So, it was safe to say that one thing led to another and now you had Park Jimin - the man who was involved in shady business with your ex and paid you millions in won - cock shoved down your throat. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes and your hands grips his naked thighs. His hands were entangled in your hair, keeping you steady so he could thrust roughly down your throat.

"Your throat feels so amazing for me." Jimin grunts, the tightening of your throat mixed with the wetness of your saliva had his mind going insane. The amount of times Jimin thought about you in this very position, his cock deep in your throat - or in your pussy, either or. Now that he was living it out he would be content. Not for long, you weren't his now but you soon will be. He would give you a choice first - to come willingly or by force. Whichever was fine by him.

Jimin yanks you away from him, his cock twitching. He groans loudly, shutting his eyes tightly. "I don't want to cum yet." he tells you. He peaks his eyes open and smirks down at your disarrayed appearance, saliva dripping down your chin and eyes filled with lust. "Are you going to let me fuck you, kitty?" Jimin's low voice rumbles from his chest, almost needy.

You were in a trance. You didn't know you were nodding your head until you realized Jimin had lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist. Jimin was strong, far more than he appeared. His lips kiss your neck and his hands cup your ass. He was in bliss inhaling your scene - the scent of lavender and vanilla - and feeling your body against his. He pokes his tongue out to suck on your neck. "You smell good, kitty." Jimin moans against your neck. "I need to be inside of you."

You moan when you feel Jimin push you against the bar island, not caring about the expensive alcohol glasses falling on the floor. His lips reach your own while his hands cups your breast. He was in a rush to feel you - to relive the many moments he had came to you in his hands.

You were the one to release his lips for air. Jimin takes this as an opportunity to shove his hands between your legs, shoving your pants down and opening your legs wide. Licking his lips, Jimin smirks. "You're already so wet for me, kitty." Jimin purrs against your ears. He lowers his head between your legs and kisses your clothed clit. "I promise to eat you out next time, kitty. I just can't wait to have you around me."

Jimin doesn't remove your panties, instead pushes them to the side and enters two of his fingers. You yelp at the sudden action, but buck your hips nonetheless. Jimin hisses and groans. He shoves his underwear to the side and places the tip of his cock at your entrance. The need to be inside you was far greater than anything else at this moment - even the leaking alcoholic beverages soaking the floor.

You let out a deep breath when Jimin enters you. "W-Wait. You need a con-" His pace was slow and steady, trying to get you to adjust to him. His hands hold you close to him by your hips while your own hands grip to the island. "Your pussy's so tight, kitty." Jimin bites his lip, interrupting your words and quickening his pace. His right hand releases your hip and his thumb rubs your clit.

You push your head back and moan loudly, your pussy clenching around him. His thumb twirls and circles your clit as he fucks deeply inside of you. Your juices grip around him - something he would never feel if he wore a condom. The sounds of skin hitting skin could be heard throughout the club, along with the wet sounds of your pussy.

"Jimin..." your eyes squeeze shut. You never thought you would be moaning his name for him in person but you are now. "...it feels so good."

Jimin enters his thumb into your mouth. You suck it, tasting your own wetness he caused. "You're so dirty." he chuckles darkly, shaking his head. "You're taking me so well, kitty. Your pussy was made for me." he exclaims. "Say it."

Your words get caught in your throat and you don't stop sucking Jimin's thumb in your mouth. Sex hadn't been this amazing in months for you - the dirty talking, the exhibitionism and the act of being caught right now; it all drove you crazy. Jimin was a walking enchantment who could make you do anything with just a look - it was dangerous.

Your throat releases a sudden cry when you feel a tight grip. Jimin's hand snatches your throat and forces your eyes open, all the while he fucks deeper inside of you. "Say it. Say your pussy was made for me, kitty." he hisses into you. It was amazing how someone like Jimin could go from sweet, gentle and flirty to the exact opposite in a manner of seconds.

"M-My pussy was made for you, Jimin." you choke, feeling your wetness slide out of you and onto your thighs.

Jimin snarls. He kisses your lips roughly - a sloppy kiss you return. Without warning, he lets go of your lips and spits on you. The warm saliva dripping down the side of your cheek - the act was disgusting, yet you couldn't help but cum right then and there at the disrespectful act. You came hard - your legs shaking and eyes closed tight. The overstimulation coming from Jimin was almost unbearable. "Where do you want me to cum, kitty?" Jimin asks you. "Should I cum inside of you? A whore like you would like that, wouldn't you?"

You nod your head, tongue licking your lips.

"Or should I cum on your face? Let everyone when they come back know who you allowed to use you like the dumb whore you are." Jimin's thrust were sloppy, but powerful. "I think I'll leave that for next time, kitty. I'm going to cum inside my pussy this time and you're going to take it all." Jimin release a low grunt before you're feeling the warm substance enters deeply inside you - so much that it releases over your thighs and onto your ass.

"Wow." she murmurs. "That's hot."

You roll your eyes. "I regret giving in so easily." you responded. "He's crazy."

"Aren't they all?" she asks. Jungkook wasn't sane in the slightest either, it was accustomed in that family of theirs. "Was it the disrespectful sex that makes you hate him?"

"Of course not. The sex was amazing." you admit. "It's him going out his way to make my life hell after that. As if he owned me." you hiss, the memories flooding back.

"We can't allow you to attend anymore, Y/N." the dean avoids your eyes as he speaks. "With those questioning videos of you going around, it make's our University appear astrocious. I am not one to judge what my students do in their free time but..." he trails off, shaking his head. "We cannot have a sex scandal involved with out name, Y/N. I'm sure you understand?"

You didn't understand what Jimin had done to you - or why. You were aware that you and Jimin hooking up at his club was risky, but him being the owner should've been an advantage. No, you were not intending on having said video sent to your dean - having been viewed by nearly everyone at the University. The stares, snickers and murmurs you received as you made your way out of the University ground were enough to have you crying in Iseul's arms.

It was bad enough you didn't have a car anymore and had long since been evicted - forced to move in with Iseul in her own small apartment. But now you were haunted by the fact that everyone has seen you during an intimate time with a man you shouldn't have trusted.

You didn't livestream anymore - you deleted your account. You wanted no contact with Jimin. You worked full time at the cafe, your head down mostly if you recognized anyone from University. Even if you didn't, it was difficult to work with eyes on you. You felt dirty and ashamed. You didn't have the strength to tell your parents you were expelled - how could you? "Yes, appa, I got expelled because I let a man fuck me in public. Can you pass the salt?" You couldn't look in their eyes and disappoint them more than you already have.

"Kitty."

You stop in your tracks. It was a slow day at the cafe, the lunch rush from hours ago being the only busy outcome of the day. You heard the low condescending voice and recognized it immediately.

"You've been ignoring me."

"Fuck off." you hiss lowly to him, your voice dripped with venom. "I don't want to see you again."

Jimin releases a chucke. "Don't be ridiculous, kitty." he coos at you. "Why would I not want to see my girl?"

You scoff, disgusted. You were glad the cafe was empty, only you and another barista available - Sung-ho - who was stocking the lobby area far away from you and Jimin. "I don't want anything to do with you." you exclaim. "I've been expelled because of you!"

Jimin shrugs his shoulders, letting out a snicker. "You didn't need University, kitty. You can stay with me." he tells you calmy, matter-of-factly. "It's not like you have a car or your own home."

Your fists clench. Your breathing is getting heavier. "How the fuck do you know that?!"

"Because," Jimin shrugs, a smirk now forming on your lips. He steps closer to you, his height seemingly getting taller with each step - or maybe you were growing delusional with all the added stress. "I'm the one that repossessed your car and got you evicted. I sent the video to your dean and now," he stares down at you, his eyes dark and expression unreadable. "I'm going to get you fired. And I will make sure you don't find a job in Seoul - or anywhere else in Korea"

You're shocked - nearly speechless at his confession. Jimin stood confidently - as if he wasn't the man that ruined your life in a manner of weeks. He spoke his words nonchalantly, without any care. As if him ruining your life and reputation wasn't a big deal to him.

Tears pool from your eyes. You couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Kitty," Jimin frowns, his fingers wiping your tears. "don't cry! Just come home."

"Fuck you!" you screech, your hands coming to punch his chest. "I hate you!"

Jimin tsks and pushes you away. His eyes are daring you to test him again. You don't. You push past him and make your way to the restrooms. It was a single restroom with a lock, you were glad you had a chance to hide from him for now. You slide your back against the door and hold your head in your hands.

"I'll see you soon, Kitty." Jimin's sweet voice comes. That same sweet voice you adored hearing when you first met him is the voice you now despised.

She's quiet, unsure what to say or how to comfort you. She doesn't know you and you don't know her. But she has the urge to hug you. She doesn't, however, unsure of how you would respond to that.

"You've been through a lot in such a small amount of time." she tells you and you can only nod in return. You admitted it felt good to talk to someone about it. Iseul only knew what you told her - which wasn't much.

"What is your plan now?" she questions. "You're here for a reason."

"Honestly...I wasn't sure." you admitted. "I wanted to come here and confront him. To scream, to hit, to ask him why he would do this to me." you shake your head. "The crazy thing is...he didn't have to do all of this to have me..."

She understood you completely. She was no fool to what you were going through - you lost it all just as much as she did. She was sure Jungkook was behind the sudden repossession of the car and the eviction letters piling up her door. "The length a man will go to break you down is unsettling." she tells you. "He's never going to stop. They're all above the law."

You scoff. "So what now?" you ask her. "I just give up?"

She shakes her head. "You have something he wants." she tells you.

"Pussy?" you ask dumfounded. Jimin was a young, attractive, powerful and damn wealthy man. He could have pussy lining up around his club.

She shakes her head roughly. "No! Well yes, but that's not all. He wants you specifically." she places a hand upon your shoulder. "I say you talk to him however you see fit. But set your boundaries. It's obvious he would stop at nothing to have you vulnerable for him. Think about something you want and demand it from him."

You nod your head. What you wanted was to be left alone. But, by now you come to terms that he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted from you.

"Alright." you nod your head. "I need to start now."

"I think I know where he's at." she tells you.

"She did what?!" Hoseok shrieks, his eyes wide with shock. His voice was high pitched and laced with disbelief.

"I never came so hard in my life, Hyung." Jungkook moans, reliving the moment of just a few hours ago. There was a twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Okay," Jin shakes his head. He lifts up a finger to Jungkook with a furrowed brow. "Stop talking about your weird kinks." he scolds.

"I don't think that's a kink!" Hoseok exclaims, sitting back into the cushioned seat. "Are we going to breeze past that he had a gun to his head?"

Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. He lifts the shot glass to his lips and downs it swiftly. "Look at him." he snickers, pointing his lips to Jungkook. "Obviously he liked it. He wouldn't be telling us if he didn't."

Jimin drowns out the conversation happening and focuses on his phone screen. Hacking into your emails and social media wasn't easy - but thankfully he had Taehyung as a brother. You were stubborn and insisted on being difficult for him. So, he would give you space for a while before you come to your senses. You can't life off of that friend of yours forever - with no job or money coming in.

There's a knock on the door that catches Jimin's ears. He had told the staff to not bother him unless it was an emergency and none of his girls were operating tonight. His brothers were all in the room and Taehyung's girl sat quietly next to the man - so who in the hell... "Kitty." Jimin murmurs when you enter, followed by Jungkook's girlfriend - or fiance as he likes to call her. "You finally come to your senses." he tells you, standing.

He can feel his brother's eyes upon you and him but he doesn't care. You offer him a lovely smile as you step closer to him. You halted at the table where bottles were scattered across. "Jimin." you say lowly, your own eyes wandering around to the sea of unfamiliar faces. "And friends."

"Family." Taehyung corrects, but raises a hand to wave. "You must be...Kitty." he smirks, letting out a chuckle at Jimin's flush cheeks and glaring eyes.

You were unamused. Your eyes glance to the women next to him who gives you the same curious look. She was Shin's ex. It seems as though these men had an attraction for a dead man's girl.

"I came here to talk." you tell him, your hands grasping the filled soju bottle and opening it. You take a swig, eyes still upon you. "Seeing as you left me homeless and jobless."

The room is quiet and now Jimin knows what your mood is like. He snickers and tilts his head. "You're upset about the wrong thing, Kitty. No girl of mine needs to work at a cafe. That's beneath us now and I won't apologize for it."

Yoongi was entertained by the interaction, and Min Yoongi was never entertained in petty drama.

Namjoon watches between the two couple standing a few feet apart.

Jin shakes his head and takes another shot while Jungkook rubs his girls thighs.

"Should we...go?" Jimin hears Hoseok murmur to someone, possibly Yoongi.

"Well, if you're ready to follow me home, Kitty, we can-"

You lift the Soju bottle and smash it across Jimin's head. It smashes upon impact, the liquid spilling against you and him.

Jimin falls backwards a few steps, shocked evident in his face.

Hoseok screams, as if he was the one hit. Namjoon and Taehyung jumps up, ready to catch Jimin.

"You stupid bitch!" Jimin wails, his eyes bloodshot.

"Fuck you!" you scream back at him, feeling a pair of arms wrap around your waist. "Let go of me!" you manage to grab ahold of another bottle and throw it Jimin's way but miss.

"Get out!" Jimin screams at his brothers, his arms wailing towards the door. "Let her go and get the fuck out." he hisses.

Hoseok was the first to leave. He was ready to call it a night. Hearing Jungkook tell them he had a gun to his head and like it, to now seeing Jimin get a bottle smashed against his head and look ready to kill was enough for him.

As the room clears out and the two of you are alone, Jimin stalks closer to you. "What in the world is wrong with you?" he hisses.

"What's wrong with me? You're crazy! You literally ruined my life!" you scream at him. As he gets closer to you, you push at his chest. "You did all of this to ensure I would have nothing but you! You fucking-"

Jimin removes his belt in a manner of seconds. He grabs your shoulder and yanks you close. You feel the belt - leather and thin, wrap around your neck tight. So tight, you almost think he's going to strangle you.

But, you understand what's going to happen when he yanks the belt backwards towards him as he seats himself into a chair. He proceeds to throw you onto his knee, your ass inm the air.

"Let go of-"

Slap.

He slaps your ass hard - the sharp pain shutting you up.

"I can deal with you being disobedient alone." Jimin hisses into your ears. "But not when you embarrass me in front of my brothers. Now they think I don't have control over my bitch."

You whimper when you feel another slap against your ass, the belt buckles tightly against your throat. You fight back a moan - this whole thing was sick to you. He thought of you as nothing more than his bitch - something he controlled. But, deep down, you couldn't deny the wetness between your legs.

Jimin slaps your ass five more times. And once he's done, his fingers trace your clothed clit to find it soaking and gripping to you.

"You talk a lot for a bitch who's dripping for me." Jimin shakes his head. He pushes your panties to the side and rubs your clit, biting his own lip. "You know, I got you a present." he tells you.

He enters two fingers inside of you. He then yanks his belt to force you to look at him as he thrust his fingers inside. "To think I spent my hard earned money on a gallery for you. For you to display your art work." he shakes his head, his fingers drilling you.

Tears now streamed down your face, pussy clenching around Jimin's fingers. It wasn't enough now, you needed more. The conscious side of you was screaming to not fall into temptation. But, the temptation itself was Park Jimin.

"I guess you don't want it, huh?" Jimin pouts.

"I do want it." you protest, fucked out and begging. For what? The art gallery he supposedly bought or more of his fingers? You haven't decided yet.

"You don't." Jimin disagrees. He takes his fingers out of your pussy and you scream in frustration. He turns you around to face him. "You don't want anything I can offer you, Kitty. So leave."

You stumble on your feet when he releases you and land on your hand and knees. You're shaking from the arousal Jimin has taken from you. "I-I-"

"Leave." Jimin hisses. "You don't want anything from me, right, Kitty?" Jimin leans back into the chair and watches your sadden expression. He reaches into his pocket and removes the small silver key, twirling it in his hand.

"I do want it." you say, shaking your head.

"What do you want, Kitty?" Jimin frowns, feigning confusion.

"I want you." you yelp, your conscious long gone and all you can think about is Jimin. You're consumed by the blond hair man. You crawl to him - you looked pathetic but you didn't care. Jimin has enchanted you and all you can think about now is what he's willing to give you.

Jimin smirks down at you - he has you where he wants you. Where you belong. He drops the key on the floor next to you and rummages through his pants, removing them. The buldge in his underwear is noticeably hard and that makes your mouth water. Your hand grasps it, ready to wrap your tongue around it when he stops you. "No time for that, Kitty, I want you to ride me." he tells you. "Show me how much you want me."

And you do. You don't bother taking your skirt off, nor your panties. You slip them to the side and sit atop of his cock hungrily. You waste no time in riding him, your moans and his grunts filling the room. Your hands were on his shoulders while you bounce on him.

Jimin yanks the belt behind your back, his eyes watching your breast bounce in the tight shirt you wore, nipples peaking out the hem of it. He licks one, enjoying your reaction.

"I knew you wanted me, Kitty." Jimin moans cockily. "Your pussy was made for me and me only."

@silversparkles11

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