#….i think bill might be right that man is in the mafia

[the-magnusinstitute]

Between you and me I punched a camera in artefact storage today. It was looking at me weird and in case it becomes sentient I needed it to know who’s boss! >:)

I admire your bravery anon, especially in artefact storage. If the cameras ever become sentient enough to walk around I’m designating you as my bodyguard.

[http-prettycupid]

Sweetness

Alejandro Vargas x fem/reader(18+)

COD/MW2

[Slight breeding kink,]

Your back is straight, your legs are crossed, your smile so sweet under your circumstances it looks sick. Encased in a metal confine, surrounded by men who can kill you in a few seconds, you’d have to play in their game. So you continue your streams of enigmatic answers to their interrogation.

“Valeria’s right.”

Your objective in this whole missile mishap, mission, or whatever the hell people would call it is simple. Everyone just seems to think other wise. Money talks and you keep the conversation going. It just so happens that your morals revolves around dollar bills, in pesos, pounds, or any forms so long as you can cash it in the bank.

“ That’s it. Hmph! You’re working for her? Over her? With her? Cual es?”

Alejandro who’s growing tired of your answers, breaks in a huff of frustration. He grew sick of Valeria’s taunt and now he has to deal with a new face that’s somehow less mouthy but much more vexing. Although his growing curiosity about who this vixen is maybe the real cause of his pent up anger.

“Guapo, if you want me to keep talking you’d have to pay me.”

You literally have to bite back a laugh at how the brunette you heard the men call, Alejandro turn slightly pink at the nickname. He honestly could not begin to comprehend why the way you called him handsome made him so flustered.

Flirting to safety wasn’t the first plan but if that’s what it takes, you know now how to begin. You couldn’t fully speak Spanish but even if you don’t speak at all you’d still have his eyes on you.

“How about this. Since this is most important to you…I’ll tell you first.”

That sickly smile now completely focus on Alejandro as the rest of the men seem to uncomfortably shift in their stance while waiting for you to continue.

“I’ll even discount my answers, if everybody else scrams.”

A chuckle slips through your lips as they somehow actually begin to consider your terms with quick glances at each other. Then letting out a huff, Graves orders everyone out of the metal container leaving only you and Alejandro.

Oh how easy it is for you to bust out of here.

They actually left. Although they may be outside, they left you alone with no restrains, unarmed but gifting a delicious man fully equipped.

You don’t know how to put your finger on it but every since meeting him on the roof of the cartel lieutenant’s mansion, Alejandro made you want to tease him. Getting captured with Valeria wasn’t part of the plan but staying that long in the Mediterranean home wasn’t either. Who could predict in the midst of your side hustle a whole ass swat team would ransack the place.

They’ve probably also figured out that you don’t have much loyalty towards Valeria and work for someone else completely, seeing how much authority you had in a house full of cartels. Even the mafia don’t treat their guests like royalty but they most definitely wanted your blessing. Now it was their job to decipher why and why not also ask about the missiles since you seem to know plenty.

And that’s what led you here, under interrogation in a metal container. Although with your skills you could walk away free, you’d be a little disappointed having to end your fun here.

“Well-”

“Ah! My price first.”

Pressing your index finger on Alejandro’s lips seemed to startled him just a tad. But that might be him not realizing how close you were to him.

“I’d have to see about transferring you pesos-,”once again the man is hushed by your finger. He’d be so entertaining to break, you’d just have to get closer. With his rifle out of the way…

“Aww, sweetling. I never said you’d have to pay me money,” taking a chance you stepped closer. Your front now pressed against the gun, you look up to study his face. His eyes are heavy, pupils blown, kissable lips slightly parted as he took a sharp intake of air. Oh and the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he gulped down his nerves. You knew he’s guard is on the edge of a drop.

Ugh! Who knew a man could look so appetizing that your the one feeling like there’s a 70ft drop before you. Come on! This is no time to be a pussy.

“Uhm…no?” Gosh the way his accent soaks into the smallest words that he lets out soaks your panties. Your starting to question if you’d break first.

“No. Do you want to know what my price is, Alejandro?” You keep your voice as light as your right hand when it reached his gun and sweeps it seamlessly out of the way. Fuck! Why are you getting so nerved.

Finally standing on your tippy toes you move to his left ear, leaving light breathes that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. As smoothly as it went your right hand delicately traces its way from his chest, shoulders and then to gingerly rub the stubble along his jaw and upper neck.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t hear the heart beat bashing on your chest.

Come Y/N! Swallow those timid valor! You never had them before today.

With your mouth tracing his earlobe you continue the teasing. “Alejandro…fuck-please touch me.”

Aight, it’s up.

You knew the butterflies in your stomach at the start should’ve been a sign to take caution. Flirting your way to safety would’ve been easy if you weren’t getting wet feeling the hardness pressing on your stomach.

Your statement should’ve been confident and alluring but it escaped you sounding way too desperate with the airy whimper.

On top of that the soft grunt he made when you pressed your front harder on his cock had you rolling your eyes. Fucking hell! There’s no way a man can have this much affect on you!

“Ah-fuck. Alejandro, I want you to touch me. Mmhp…wanna feel you inside me, fuck your cum into me. Oh god, please. I’ll tell you anything. Just please, please fuck me-

You couldn’t even finish before he lost his senses, dropping the gun and dug his big hands into your waist. Sliding his gloved palms downwards, the brunette then lifted you into that solid body of his and rushed to press your back on the metal wall.

Your hands weaving into his hair as his mouth went to work on your neck. His chest pressed so tightly against yours that your breathe heaved even more and oh did those heavy pants and small whimpers egged him on.

The self-assured and flirtatious vixen now starting to melt in his palms and she looked so enticing all the while. Her cropped black tank top strap had fell off her shoulder, leaving more room for him to kiss and gnaw at. Her also black spandex they had left her in after ridding her cargo pants full of weapons and ammo was not doing a good job covering her neediness. Taking a quick glance he could already see her leaving wet patches on the front of his jacket. The sight alone made a moan slip out of him. If that wasn’t enough his hardness was aching in his pants, begging to be relieved.

“La hostia! Muñeca-my cremalle-mi zipper princesa”, even with his rushed sentence you understood. Hands leaving his hair, you reached his belt buckle. Then with some shuffling it came loose with sufficient room for you to unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, pulling it down just enough to also bring his boxers with it.

His tip immediately bumped your lower ass before you started to take him in your palms. With steady strokes, feeling the veins along his length, his girth that your fingers and thumb barley touched, you knew he was just a size too big. His pre-cum ran down to your palms making you instinctively lick your lips and pant. This might sting but you can already feel your girl pulse and drool for him.

“Alejandro,” with a whine you unhook your legs form his waist. Your feet meeting the ground again before you began stripping for a man you met just a few hours ago. And he absolutely ate up the sight before him.

Left in only your panties, damp skin kissed by the hot sun of Las Almas. The man wanted to ask what did he do for The Lord to bless him with you? Or perhaps it was the Devil that sent you to him. You just looked so heavenly and sinful. Hair now loose from the braid it was in, the stray strands framed your beguiling face. He had a thought you might’ve just been playing his heart strings to get your way but your doe eyes and pouty lips that are begging him to continue throw those thoughts away. He wanted to know about your stories, what made you came to Las Almas. Beyond the stories of missiles and the cartel, why you’d put yourself in such danger. But that would have wait for another time.

Alejandro rushed to hike you back up, this time roughly pressing his hot lips to your pillowy ones. Heavy breathing bounced off the container’s walls as the two bodies take in as much air as they could while devouring in each other’s rousing scents, electrifying touch and the thrilling environment they were currently in.

This was supposed to be an interrogation…

You flirted often, yes. But you definitely weren’t the most experienced with intimacy and with the pace Alejandro’s tongue moved into your mouth, you knew the footing on your plan had completely crumbled away.

He pressed his body harder on yours, gripping his right hand on your hip, taking in as much of you he could. Your small mewls that left your lips. Along with the strings of sounds, the smell of vanilla blended with coconut and some florals. It’s like the man couldn’t pick up on the musky scent of sex as his left hand made its way to your panties.

“Mierda. You’ve runined your panties Muñeca,”

You moaned in his mouth as he reconnected your lips. Pushing your panties to the side before he rather impatiently inserted his middle and index fingers, as if to test your readiness for his cock. With a gravely grunt Alejandro began working in your pussy that was now making a mess all over his digits. He reluctantly paused his ravaging in your mouth once more to look at his work below.

“ Fuck Muñeca! Your pussy’s already in love with my fingers. Imagine how much she’ll love my cock stuffing her full, hm.”

All you could do was mewl and curse into his shoulders as he stuffed your throbbing womanhood. This smug man then begin to laugh at your current state.

“Que pasa, Muñeca? What happened to that assertive vixen telling my men to scram so she can bargain for her safety?”

It was now your turn to blush. You couldn’t for your life begin to think anymore. His scent was intoxicating you, hints of cleanly soap, gun powder and musk was enough to make you lose your mind. What else? His voice and accent. God have mercy you could cum with just his talks alone. AND don’t even get started on his long fingers working in and out, now pairing with his thumb on your clit.

You can feel a certain knot tying itself in your stomach, the twisting feeling caused your body to tremble and your eyes to brim with tears. The increase in volume and movement was a dead giveaway that you were close. Even so, Alejandro removed his hand from you core, cutting off the high that had been peaking thus far.

“N-no, please. Please, Alejandro.” Fuck. Your watery eyes with those lips that he made red and swollen caused his cock to drip. Such a pathetic plea and face along with a moan of his name.

“Aw, I know guapa. I just wanted to give that needy pussy of yours something bigger.”

With a taunting pout, Alejandro then gripped your sides before a hand left to guide his cock to your messy hole. He then let your body slowly slid down his length.

“Mierda! Your so tight. And what a fucking mess your making of my pants, princesa,” he couldn’t help his strangled moans as you took him in so willingly with the most welcoming clench on his manhood.

“Alejan-fuck! Too much.” You whine with hazy eyes as tears fell from the sting as well as the delight of him bullying his way inside.

Alejandro the tease only chuckled at your words, “your doing so well princesa, taking in my cock. Come on, you can take all of it.” He sang praises as he continue to slowly sink into you, kissing away the tears that had fallen on your flushed cheeks.

When he finally bottomed out he pulled back up to the tip before refilling your sloppy pussy and setting steady pace. Your volume now becoming alarmingly loud so as to prevent his team from hearing, his lips were back on yours.

Of course if the team hadn’t heard your voice already they probably hear the wet squelches as Alejandro’s cock picked up the pace. Feeling you flutter around him and hearing your increase in volume he began slamming so hard you couldn’t help but drip down his balls and to the floor.

Legs wrapped tightly around his waist, armed draped over his shoulders while he worked you up and down his manhood. You dissolved into putty in his arms, only able to babble incoherent words into his mouth. Saliva was slipping from the edges as he continued his assault in your hot cavern. Every audible cry you began to muster with your lips parted and connecting to his with a string of wetness would dissipate as he ate them up.

Ya, as if the team could hear…

The team catching on to Alejandro’s ‘special interrogation’ was the last thing he cared to pounder about anyways.

“Mmm, princesa. Your pussy’s a real fucking treat.”

And his cock is making you drunk.

“After this I’m never letting you leave.”

And you didn’t want to.

“You gonna let my breed your pussy, hm? Cum deep inside your filthy hole?”

“Fuck Yes! Please, please! Give your cum please.”

Alejandro’s pretty done keeping your voice down. Besides, he may as well give his men a treat hearing your pretty cries for his cum and cock that they would never indulge in themselves.

“Cum on me then, Muñeca.”

Just like a magic command, the build up in your core since Alejandro’s fingers fucked your pussy snapped.

Your high came crashing down in tremors and sniffling sobs. So out of breathe you barely finish chanting his name, whiteness covering your vision you’d think you were going to heaven. And what’s an even better feeling then this high heaven? His cum pumping into you as he groaned and thrusts it in deeper. More moans pass through you as Alejandro couldn’t help but grind his seeds into your hot mess, now leaking with his cum.

“Ugh, mierda. Your going to get me in trouble guapa.” With a soft laugh Alejandro peeked at the mess you two made below before his gaze carried back to your fucked-out face. God, just your face alone was making his length stir again.

BANG BANG!!

“Fucking hell! There better good intel after you guys clean up whatever mess y’all made in there!”

Ghost’s voice could be heard from behind the container door as strings of snickers followed. Keeping his gaze on your heavy lids that were now blown wide from the sudden startle, Alejandro knew he’d have to continue this later.

“Ya, ya.”

Yup. You weren’t leaving even if you spill your whole life story to the Spanish man.

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller EPILOGUE

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: PG-13 (sweet and fluffy but you already know there's some swears)

Summary: Everyone gathers to celebrate Ellie's birthday.

AN: Might make some head cannon/blurb type continuations to this, nothing super plot heavy. Send in any requests/ideas for these two if you got 'em (smutty and non-smutty)!

Masterlist

He’d take the headache of another raid on his supplies over his current situation - arguing with Tommy over some damn birthday balloons. 

“It’s not centered,” Tommy grumbled, glaring up at his older brother with a defiant scowl. 

Joel slowly counted backwards from ten, a little thing his wife had introduced to him so he’d stop yelling at his men so much.

“Yes it is.” Joel exhaled slowly through his nose. “You wanna get a level, for fuck’s sake?”

They continued glaring for a solid minute before Tommy smirked, glancing over his shoulder, causing Joel’s scowl to deepen. 

“Don’t,” the older man warned.

“Indi, sweetheart, come ‘ere for a second, please?!” Tommy yelled across the yard, barely dodging a punch in the arm.

Joel rolled his eyes, smacking the back of his hand against his brother’s head just before his wife stopped in front of them. “Really?”

“What’s up?” she asked sweetly, that bright smile as stunning as her wedding ring, which reflected off the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Joel says the arch is centered and I think it’s not, he won’t admit his vision is finally crappin’ out on him,” Tommy explained, that boyish smile making Joel roll his eyes again as his brother tried to persuade his wife.

God, he loved saying that. His wife.

“Well, I think it looks great, guys,” she shrugged, assessing their work, “It is centered…just not in the right place.” She glanced at Joel. “The balloon arch is for the back door, Tommy,” she said gently, like talking to a child. 

“Mother-.” He ran a frustrated hand down his face, going to remove the reinforcements they’d added to the bottom so they could move it across the yard. Again. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re really sexy when you’re in charge?” he murmured in her ear as Tommy continued to gripe in the background.

“Shut up, Joel.”

He grinned, wrapping a strong arm around her neck, leaning in close to her. “Yes ma’am.”

“Stop it.” She tried to be serious but couldn’t help the giggle when his lips brushed her earlobe.

“Hey! You gonna help me or not?” Tommy hollered, holding one end of the arch up.

Joel kissed her softly on the cheek and winked before sauntering over to help his brother. She’d been planning this for months, as soon as she learned that Ellie’s birthday was coming up. When asking the teenager what she wanted to do, her response consisted of, “Something quiet with my friends, and Dina, and you guys too, oh and Tommy and Bill and Frank..” she said eagerly. 

And that’s how some of the members of the biggest, baddest crime group in Texas ended up helping decorate Bill and Frank’s backyard for a teenager’s birthday. Ellie had been out all day with her friends, driven around by Ethan to the mall or the movies or wherever else they wanted to go. He’d been given strict instructions to have the girls home by six and to bring Ellie and her lovely girlfriend back here by seven.

“What time’s the food coming?” she called out to Tommy.

“Should be here about five-ish, definitely ready to go by six for sure,” Tommy said as they passed her with the giant arch of multicolored balloons. 

Joel would end up arguing with Tommy for another fifteen minutes over the arch and then the drink selection…and then when they hung up the backdrop for photos. 

Later that afternoon, Indi stepped out of the bedroom, walking quickly around the room as she hurried to get ready. Joel was lounging on the bed, his button-down shirt pulled taut against his chest, his arms accentuated by the rolled up sleeves and darker shade. He also knew the dark jean and boots combination always got her riled up, especially when she’s had a few glasses of wine. 

“Lemme look at you, baby girl,” he requested, hands crossed behind his head as he watched her.

“No, because you always want to touch after you’ve looked.”

He smirked, getting up and grabbing her by her side, pulling her body against him. “Can’t help it, too damn pretty,” he muttered against her neck, lips leaving a warm, wet trail from her collar to her earlobe.

“Joel,” she huffed, her resolve quickly disappearing the more he kissed on her. “We have to leave in like ten minutes”

“Just enough time to make you come.”

“Joel,” she snapped even as she was gripping his forearm, “I swear to God if you fuck up my make-up…”

He hummed deeply against her shoulder. “Gonna punish me, baby girl? Put me in my place?” he growled, squeezing her hips tightly, grinding his semi-hard cock into the back of her dress against the swell of her ass.

“Joel,” she warned again, slightly more assertive this time when she heard a car door slam outside. 

“Lemme make you feel good, been so tense plannin’ this all month for Ellie,” he insisted, his thumbs drawing rough circles into her hips. 

“After the party,” she muttered, leaning back against his broad chest, allowing his hands to continue wandering to her thighs. 

“Maybe a little preview and then the rest after?” he said, chuckling darkly as he turned her in his arms and kissed her deeply. 

She blinked up at him when he pulled back, feeling like he’d convinced her by how dilated her eyes were. “You’re insane.” 

“You fuckin’ love it, baby,” he said, grinning when her hands gripped his shirt, her thigh coming between his legs to rub at his crotch. 

She glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the table. “We’ve got eight minutes.” 

He smirked triumphantly, leaning down to kiss her hard, his hands holding her face. “More than enough time to get you to come, darlin’, maybe twice if you’re good for me...”

She hummed her agreement, eyes closing as he inched his fingers under the skirt of her dress. Just by the way he toyed with her panties, she knew they wouldn’t finish in eight minutes.

They ended up arriving about ten minutes late. Tommy was sitting in the living room with Bill and Frank, all three already with a beer in hand. Joel walked into the room with Indi’s hand in his, greeting their guests in typical-Joel fashion.

“Party hasn’t even started yet and you're already drinkin’,” he said gruffly, yet all the men could recognize the teasing undertone unique to Joel’s voice. 

“Been bustin’ my ass all day for your kid’s party, I deserve it,” Tommy said with a smirk. 

“Come on, Indi, the girls should be here soon, let me help you with the food,” Frank insisted, linking her arm with his and leading her away from the other men. 

Once the table outside was set and the string lights switched on, Frank poured them both a drink as they waited. The other three men had wandered into the kitchen with Bill complaining about a sports team. 

Frank excused himself and Bill to change, claiming he had set something out for them specifically for tonight. Tommy stepped outside to smoke, leaving Joel and Indi standing in the kitchen, looking at each other as she leaned on the counter and he leaned on the fridge directly in front of her. 

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, eyes slowly traveling the length of her form, twice for emphasis. 

“Thank you, baby,” she responded, reaching out to hold his hand. “You always look extra dangerous in black, you know that? Makes it so hard to focus on anything besides how good you look and how wet I am,” she added, trailing her fingers up his wrist and arm, feeling his muscles tense from her words.

“Fuck, baby, don’t start,” he muttered, pulling her to his chest, bringing his hand to hold the back of her neck and tilt her head up to meet his heated gaze. 

“I’m just saying, you look really good right now,” she continued to tease him with naughty words and light touches, “Could stick it in right now, no resistance, all for you, Joel.”

“Darlin’, I’m not opposed to takin’ you back out to that barn and fuckin’ you in the hay,” he warned, leaning down to kiss her cheek, knowing she’d want her lipstick to last until after dinner. 

“Hmm, gonna let me ride you? Show those horses how it’s done?” she smirked, breaking out into laughter when Joel arched his brow at her with his own amused little grin.

“I’m not the one who gets shy when they’re lookin’,” he teased, reaching around to grab a handful of her ass, making her giggle more. 

“Hey! Keep it PG-13, kids are here, man…fuckin’ animals,” Tommy said with a lighthearted scoff at the end, coming in through the backdoor with his phone in his hand. 

He rolled his eyes, but removed his hands, unwilling to deal with both Tommy’s and Ellie’s teasing at his expense when it came to being caught touching on his wife. Indi never minded their jokes, but Joel’s preference was being able to grab and touch her without some sarcastic comment coming up from behind him. 

“I’m home!” Ellie’s voice rang through the small house. 

“Kitchen!” Frank called back, coming down the stairs. 

“He- oh! Hi, what are you guys doing here?” she asked, startled by the amount of people in the room.

“Hungry?” Indi asked, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the head. 

“Yeah, definitely, uh you guys remember Dina, right?” she asked, motioning to the young woman behind her. 

“Of course! Kicked my ass at darts, how could I forget?” Tommy spoke, greeting the other girl warmly with a hug. 

Once outside, Ellie was obviously surprised by how wide her eyes were and how her mouth was hanging open as Indi led them to the waiting table. She let the girls check out the decorations, knowing Tommy and JOel would appreciate it while she went back to the truck to collect Ellie’s presents. 

“This has been amazing! Thank you guys!” Ellie said, beaming the entire meal, her smile brighter and brighter even through the final course, a hot fudge sundae with a lit candle next to the cherry.

The group sat outside well into the night, Ellie taking Dina around the farm after taking what felt like a million pictures on their phones in front of the backdrop they’d set up. The adults remained at the table, talking and drinking.

“Come on, Ellie, time to open your presents!” Joel hollered across the yard at the girls who’d been checking out the garden. 

“You got me a present?!” she gasped, bounding back over to the table.

“Of course we did, we just knew not to keep ‘em here so you wouldn’t go snoopin and spoil the surprise like last time’,” Bill said, handing her a small wrapped package. 

“Hey, that was an accident,” she tried to argue, but her guilty smile gave it away.

“So you accidentally came into our bedroom and accidentally opened the suitcase under the bed?” Frank questioned with an arched brow.

She just giggled in response, tearing into the wrapping paper with excitement. As they watched her open the small pile of gifts, Joel slipped his hand into Indi’s lap, finding her fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. She smiled at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly. He brought an arm around her, sliding her chair closer to his so that she could lean into him. The moment itself was definitely one he would keep close to him, the people he cared about the most gathered together, Ellie’s blinding smile as she opened her presents, and his dream of a wife cuddled up under his arm. It was a beautiful moment. It was his life now for the most part and he couldn’t have asked for better. 

“I love you,” he said into the crown of her head.

“I love you too, always,” she said, looking up at him with pure adoration and happiness. 

[starkholme]

"Is this really what you want?" her fingers closed around the edge of the table, she couldn't belive what he was saying "Living in the shadows? Hunting, being hunted? Always alone?"

"I don't stop to think about it." His voice was sharp, although Karen recognized the same lie she tells herself everyday right there.

Agent Castle is an alluring enigma to her, yet his eyes can't hide the truth from her.

Frank Castle worked long enough as an especial agent to know how it ends: Maria and Bill were the proof, he couldn't let anyone interfere anymore. The last two missions weren't the easiests ones and every scar left was a reminder of how he'd be better off on his own.

They're gone, and he has to live with it.

Even tough his age was making him "less sane", according to his fellow Agent Madani, he'd never thought of stopping what he does. And even with simple missons through the months follow the arrival of the new Boss, he's feeling it might be the time where he finally learns how to live it with his grief. Until, a letter from former FBI hacker and now one of his best friends, David Lieberman, arrived at his doorstep alerting him that the Organization is back again.

Frank is send into the Ma Gnucci Ring, and soon realizes the Organization he destroyed alongside his best friend Bill was rising from sketch with the presence of every member from big mafias around the world. And one man is the main head of it: Jigsaw.

Although he's willing to go after who's behind the Jigsaw identity, Frank didn't anticipated the existance of Karen Page: a journalist, friends with the double Agent Urich, and knows the secrets behind the Organization more than she appears to know. They have to trust each other to survive, and somehow find they're much more alike than what it seems.

Kastle but make it 007 Spectre AU

PS: In this scenario I envisioned Maria is Vesper Lynd and Karen is Madeleine Swann. Vesper was Craig's Bond's first love in the series and he still griefs her, while Madeleine is his other chance as well she's his last love.

Things I want to mention even though this is already long af:

PS²: I also believe Ben Ulrich would be a double agent in the past and had a friendship with Karen, so here in this Spectre scenario he can take the role "Mr. White" and ask Frank to protect Karen because "she knows too much about the Organization" but definitely knows enough to help Frank figure out things. And imagine if he asks Frank to leave him there so Kingpin can kill him so it doesn't make anything suspicious upon Karen? I'm liking this AU too much for someone who's not writing this

Ps³: Kingpin would be one of the mafia bosses working alongside Jigsaw, he'd have a clash between Agent Castle and Agent Murdock and a much nervous Department Lawyer Foggy Nelson

[mooodyblue]

polar plunge | elvis x gn!reader

summary: (requested) you come up with an idea to help elvis raise money for charity, but it takes some convincing to do.

warnings: cursing? i think that's it.

wc: 1.4k

note: this was written with 69/70's elvis in mind, hope i did this request justice 🫶🏼

masterlist | request | taglist

elvis had your hand in his as you two were curled up in front of the fire, a soft record from his collection playing in the background. it was a cozy evening, just talking about upcoming plans for after the new year. there was a brief period of silence where you just enjoyed each other's company. you had your head resting on his shoulder as he glanced outside the window, watching the snow fall. “y’know, it’s a damn shame” he broke the silence

you lifted your head and looked out the window, “what is?”

he kept his eyes still on the snow. “some people aren’t as fortunate as me. not as lucky.” he started. “the way we struggled growin’ up…people are still dealin’ with that, some people have it worse than i did.”

you frowned at the sudden conversation. one of the things you admired about elvis was how much he wanted to give. any time he had a friend in need or ran into a stranger in need, he did everything he possibly could to help them. money? a new car? a new house? hospital bill? he had it covered. that doesn't even count the money he donates privately plus the charity concerts and events he occasionally holds.

"i always feel like i'm not doin' enough." he sighed.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head. a lightbulb would be over your head if it were humanly possible. you lifted your head off his shoulder and asked, "can i suggest something?" elvis turned to look at you. "a polar plunge." he looked at you like you were crazy. "don't look at me like that! it was just a suggestion! anyway, it'd be a fun way to raise money."

"baby, i love you. but you're talkin' crazy. ain't no way in hell am i gettin' in below-freezing water." he shook his head, letting out a small laugh. he turned his head back to the snow, still slightly laughing at your suggestion.

"and miss the chance to see me in a swimsuit?"

if elvis turned his head any faster, his neck would have snapped right off. "i'm listenin'."

you rolled your eyes, smacking him playfully on his arm. "you could get the guys involved too. we'd raise a pretty good amount of money especially if it's you doing it." you also just felt like seeing his mafia suffer for a few minutes just for the hell of it. you hated having to share elvis with them sometimes.

elvis had to really think about it. he really didn't want to do it, but it was a good idea. god, he hated how it was a good idea. but it was for charity, after all. he’d get to cuddle up with you afterward too which was a bonus. it would take some convincing of the mafia though, that’s for sure. they often said yes to everything he did, but this may be pushing it for them. picturing red or jerry running through freezing cold water got a chuckle out of him. “yea, alright. let’s see what we can do.”

when it came down to planning the event, the guys thought he was insane.

“e.p, you’ve come up with some crazy ideas in your life but that just might be the craziest one of them all. i’m tappin’ out.” sonny crossed his arms. the rest of the group chipped along with him in agreement.

red nodded along with him, taking a swig from his glass. “you wanna raise money so bad, come up with somethin’ else.”

everyone started complaining, talking over each other and trying to brainstorm better ideas. elvis wasn’t gonna have it though. “thats enough!” he shouted over the group of men. “i don’t care what y’all wanna do and what y’all don’t want to do. this is what i want to do and you’re all gonna do it regardless of what you think.”

they all looked at each other, lamar raising an eyebrow. “or what?”

elvis shot him a stern look in return. “you really wanna ask that question?” they should know better than to push the man and test his limits, he rarely took no for an answer for a reason. “because if ya don’t, you’re all fired.” and elvis was serious about it. “and anyway, for each one of you that does do it, it's more money that goes to kids. either don't do it and feel like shit or do it, feel like shit but know you did it for a good cause.”

you let out a small giggle at the last statement, catching an angry look from lamar. “i’ll double it if you all join in.” you shrugged.

“see!” elvis exclaimed. “now, let's pick out a date.”

even though it was your idea, you were still nervous. so now here you were, wrapped in a jacket with a new swimsuit underneath it, shivering as a cold breeze came through the air. everyone but elvis looked like they didn't want to be there, which was understandable. it was a good thing you didn't suggest costumes, that could have caused an even bigger argument. it was colder than you had thought it'd be. thankfully it had stopped snowing a few hours ago. there were also cameras everywhere, why did you decide this was a good idea? this is for a good cause, you reminded yourself. elvis interrupted your thoughts, placing a hand on your shoulder. “when we're done, i’ll send the boys away and we can get another fire goin’ at home.” he whispered in your ear. “sounds wonderful.” you smiled at him, nodding.

“alright, y'all ready?” elvis threw his coat off along with everyone else, getting in a line by the shore facing the freezing-cold water. elvis was beside you with jerry on the opposite side of you, muttering out a quiet i don't wanna be here. to himself. elvis took your hand, holding onto it tightly. “we'll go in together.” you let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the small bit of warmth from his hand in yours. people behind you started counting down. you couldn't believe you were really doing this. the countdown finished and everyone was rushing into the icy water. elvis made sure to not let go of your hand the whole time you were running.

letting out a shriek as your feet hit the cold water, elvis laughed softly and held onto your waist as you got as deep as you could. “why is it so fucking cold?!” you shouted.

“why are you askin’? this was your idea!” the cold was getting to elvis now, who looked over at his friends who were suffering even worse than you and elvis were. although, some of them were off making bets of who could stand in the water the longest. elvis couldn't take it any longer, he picked you up from the water, carrying you out as the many cameras surrounding the area captured every moment. he quickly wrapped a coat around you before putting one on himself, watching his friends still wander around in the water. “you think one of ‘em’s gonna come back sick? placin’ my bets on lamar.” he wrapped his arms back around you, holding you close with your back pressed against his front.

you scoffed, shivering in his hold. “are you kidding? it's gonna be sonny for sure.”

everyone eventually returned from the water, having been called out to prevent any risk of hypothermia. he really had the most stubborn group of friends to walk on this earth. elvis finished up his interviews and talking with the camera crews before sending his friends off and telling them to go warm up. and as elvis said he would, he brought you back home to graceland and set up a fire. you were both in comfy, warm sweaters under a blanket in front of the fireplace, a cup of hot chocolate in your hand. “what do you think? stupidest idea i've ever come up with or the best idea i've ever come up with?” you asked jokingly.

he poked at the fire once more before scooting back and up against you. “well, it was an idea.”

you took a sip from your mug. “at least we raised money though, i just hope nobody got sick.”

“i wouldn't worry about ‘em.” he shrugged. “maybe we should do that again next year.” elvis suggested.

“please, god no.”

taglist: @aconflagrationofmyown @butlersluvbot @arianatheangel-girl @steph-speaks @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s @annoyinginternetgirl @imgayreal @flwrs4aust

[gamerwoo]

i totally forgot aya and bang chan were roommates and now i feel like i need aya x chan content

my favorite pair of besties tbh <3

(i'm gonna do this in headcanon form i think and just kinda talk about them as roomies)

Chan moved with his parents to SK when he was in high school, and he also shifted in high school

enter Aya who he feels like he owes his life to lmao

he was panicking because he had no idea what was happening to him and he suddenly turned into this giant fucking dog and he couldn't change back

yeah his parents were cool but would they be cool with their song being a large animal and busting down their front door? probably not

so he's panicking in the woods and Aya's the one to find him

right off the bat, she could sense he was meant to be an alpha

not her alpha, but an alpha

she helped him calm down, drove him home, and gave him her number if he needed anything

and thus their friendship began

you might be wondering how Aeri never knew they were friends when she was bffs with Aya and also childhood besties with Chan

well Aya never really talked about him much since y'know he was a werewolf

also Chan’s a very common name so y’know

anyway, Aya was an upperclassman so she moved out first and moved into a really shitty one-bedroom that was cheap as fuck but kind of terrifying

but she's a werewolf so she can take care of herself

Chan spent a lot of nights at Aya's apartment on an air mattress

they were best friends and did everything together

she even got him a job working at the bar with her, so they literally did everything together

she was the one who helped him apply for college

he asked her to be his prom date 

honestly Chan’s parents were so confused how Aya wasn’t his mate lmao

when it came time for Chan to graduate high school, his parents decide to move back to Australia, but Chan wants to stay in Korea for college

so Aya lets him live with her despite only having one fucking bedroom

Chan never minded sleeping on an air mattress

she was the one who taught him about the ✨wonderous world of being an adult✨

which was a lot of learning how to pay bills and save money, which sucked

Aya was there when Chan started to find his pack (which started with Changbin, who she was very confused about at first)

"Are you sure this dude's telling the truth? There's no way a man who does aegyo that much is wanted by a mafia."

when everyone else either found Chan or vise versa, Aya lowkey judged all of them

when she first met Minho, she took one look at him and said, “I already know I’ll hate you”

they very much have a frienemies relationship <3

she basically banned Minho from the apartment, so when she moved out, he didn’t skip a beat moving in lmao

Aya always liked Felix so she was excited when he shifted

she won’t admit it but she’s slightly intimidated by Hyunjin because nobody knows anything about him

Jisung was afraid of her and she knows it and thinks it’s kinda funny

she loves Seungmin’s attitude, and they tended to gang up on Chan together

she only briefly met Jeongin before she moved out so she never really got to make an opinion on him

Chan was there when Aya met Jeonghan and had to listen to her gush about him nonstop

"How are you meant to be with someone who can't even managed to do his own homework?"

honestly, even Changbin was stumped by that one considering Aya was always a straight-A student

when Aya moved out to live with Jeonghan and his pack, the pair were obviously sad to part ways

they both may or may not have cried

Chan tried to play it off and make a stupid “who’s cutting onions in here” joke as he wiped under his eyes as they pulled out of their hug before she had to leave

and Aya just looked up and started crying harder and pulled him in for another hug

so then Chan cried harder and it was a whole thing

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she laughed when they pulled away for a second time. “It’s not like you’re dying.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at work tomorrow. And I’m only an hour-ish away. Door’s always open.”

“Well keep it shut if Minho’s in there.”

they don’t work together anymore but they still text each other all the time

Aya’s always caught up on the drama going on in the pack (and of course she tells Jeonghan, who blabs about it to everyone else)

she’s obviously still close with Aeri, though, but she’s fantastic at keeping any secrets from the other

like if Chan tells her about any surprises he has planned, Aya will never tell her

Aya and Chan are ride or dies tbh

[millenial-net-utopia-2010]

june travelogue - TA(L)KING FOR GRANTED - 0/25, 30/5/24 (vol. i)

got idea - maybe it was daydream - about this very topic... i(t) was thinking out of nowhere - maybe i am idiot, or just censoring myself... because now, - bolts on my head - but i mean, wasnt this (except for data grab and so...), the reason why internet on which [we are] here, but to discuss [taboo]s!? now when, let me start, - we can argue later (in comments)! here here!

what got me prompted, was idea - "men feel weak/useless - and so does/seems Manking contra ["Rotten apples"]!"

"Rotten apples", in quotes; had no better comparison, naming, and it quite fits [the reasons]. it, to me, points to [this; problem]; where, - to say - we are more omfortable, it is easier - to [throw away] rotten apples - than to take care of main issue, - our luxury and comfort, - that it is to [eat it] on the right time; to not forget (to care about ourselves too...) - and to not "miss forest for the trees", to say... (**)

to "Men feel weak" - it is an nod to all Rogan, Tate and Peterson broskis Manosphere, who [slurp from] use inceldom, - turning desperation, basic needs (compassion /***) and call for help, into weapon. (prime example of) Rotten apples. - it is easier to militarize vulnerable ones with propaganda cheap promises and "tricks", than to admit, "yes, 90s were Woman decade never to be left alone; we (men) are sorry that when you are man, then all you do, is to be taken for granted (on that basis alone; when women turn "men", manhood, on basis of purpose, starts to lack behind...), no matter how left alone and unheard; maybe even silenced, you might feel!" (tl;dr: "to be born = to owe <pardon>")

and other things we take for granted (dont worry, this is not cry-to post) :

- politics and edu being slow on internet! (good or bad) - we have it good still (aside*)

- food, (good) parents, drinkable water, home, internet; free press and speech (aside*)

- air; that we had childhood, document(aries), sci (tech) progress (good and bad)

- that we still can (aside*) choose...!

- num. other stuff, like Planet, sun, that we are able to talk, walk, make/speak up our minds (aside*), breathe...!

*/aside:

technocrats, SocEng invol. projects (guilt, blame, psych. tricks...), i.e. Voting until "cake" is gone - switch-n-bait tactic, vote themes (corrupt) "merges" (bleh)

Rotten apples, (tentative name) once again! (aside*)

this very problem I, and others (I) heard have... - if we want for "things to get easier", you dont, cant, at any circumstances, give in to {those} "Guru"s! (it) breaks my heart - we cant agree on Jesus, but there goes (>) steve jobs, bill gates, wannabe ms. holmes, oprah or pewdiepie - then, only then, all people go crazy!!??

priorities, guys (neutr.), priorities! i cant believe my eyes and ears... "my asi fakt umrieme na krasu", as we say here...

"AI Scare" wont mean anything, if you can see behind the ruse, the red herring. the scary thing isnt that "Ai will make itself body", but that we are enablers (/***), that we are more tool (and fool) that it is, to us; we are comfortable, predictable; useful idiots for another [this; fake] "Savior" (/>) of-type FAANGS... *Journobros and "scientists say"ers, with Breadtube, arent helping this "cause" either...

problem isnt IQ, but EQ (world (people) becoming controlable, "cold") and Adaptability. they Elitists (think of ivy league, silicon valley garage, paypal mafia-types) want us dependant, broke, desperate ("broken window", but this type it is fallacy, but marketing (think of cheap melting glue "made to be broken", end of waranty, cheap, fast and mass-produced products made in way that even people from those companies are leaving for bullshit (cyberpunk) market practices...)) and willing to accept (/**) "the next big thing", for 30th time in the row...

it really is battlegrounds (royale) - trapped between (these) Journobros, wishful thoughts (of dead idealism past), reason and sensibility - truly, fight as old as Higher cognitive functions...

and so is (old) this (Ad) Annoyance Tactic - You accept [it], because (of others; ***; - Ridicule Tactic) you want it to "Make it stop(, whatever! 2+2= 4,... 5...!) !" <1984, Torture scene> (/ Plus, wary - bad ad, too ad...)

-

you make me worry of you (kona) ... i get you, but i mean, you make it extreme, and do you want me to do something, or?

like, what can we do, this is the luxury question that bothers me, we (well...) in slovakia live by "it dont matter i am living horrible, the main thing is the others have it worse", and lying, stealing (see our current coalition), like, it is not honest life, and idk if i can compensate the fact by those who want slovakia to be next germany, yet you see, every country has its shit, nothing is black and white, what i hate is this grey of it, the uncertainty, "buffyism" as (you?) say...

https://matthewnorthproject.org/ - They Can't Kill The Truth

but as they say, even broken clock shows the right time twice a day - no one is right or wrong, and that there are no more facts bothers me. pro-russians tend to say "nothing is real, all of them is lying", eurobros (they sometimes mean it good, but cant live without neoliberal fantasy that NAFO will inherit world or something - more they hate "american way", they more agree, admit the technocracy....) - there is third wing too, but those are silent minority (maybe it is us here), who dont listen to neither... (some things below may be what i believe in, and so do my "twitter circle")

not all of >reddit and twitter and maybe tumblr too is brainrotten, they are just not heard good among the ads and shills and porn

there are still reasonable people, - but i thought you are one of them, and it made me scared how far you go with your ideas. there are bad, unpopular, popular, and good ideas. your posts make me think of village crazie...

you might be right, but those who have intuition know (that this is how it ends, "accepting unacceptable" - saw it so many times) and who dont know, those would stay uninterested, unphased until they already "accepted" it...

also, this "simplification of thought"...

like... that tactic goes as far as post-9/11 fear, words that franklin said are scaring feds away. i mean, if yo cant speak in terms of 0s and 1s, you are dangerous. the china system

thats why Mulan or Marvel (disney) after End Game went so retarded - no way, no means to form complex thoughts, images - or if theyd be able, theyd connect two and two together, that it is all about money, power, influence, so that nothing than family/community really matters...

we cant talk, unite for common goal... even "common sense" is unknown term by now (what has world come to) - you dont simply do the things from sex and city... not because they are amoral (that too), but because they are impossible, inflated, fictional, they are sex fantasy ffs! (more people need to know about "suspension of disbelief", i see that thing everywhere!)

---similar---

[waiting-on-a-dream]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

Haruto: [Opens door]

Daisuke: ...

Haruto: Daisuke? Where are you?

Daisuke: Boo! [Clap noise]

Haruto: Eek!

Daisuke: Haha, I got you~

Haruto: Feeling playful, are you? Jumping out from behind the door like that, what if I thought you were trying to attack me?

Daisuke: Do you think so little of me? I would never hurt you~

Haruto: I hope so.

Daisuke: So. [Chair dragging sound] What would you like to ask me?

Haruto: Hm... What's with the choker?

Daisuke: Oh, this? It was a gift from my friend. I'm surprised you managed to bring it to me actually.

Haruto: Are you into this kind of accessory?

Daisuke: Not really. I'm okay with it. I told him to get me anything he'd like to see me wear, and this is what I got.

Haruto: So now you're wearing it when he can't see you?

Daisuke: It reminds me of him.

Haruto: Hah... Besides drug dealing and murder, have you commited any other crimes?

Daisuke: Does forcing people to go to bars and pay for the massive bill afterwards count?

Haruto: I don't think so.

Daisuke: Then no.

Haruto: Really?

Daisuke: What? You don't believe me?

Haruto: I just thought you'd be capable of more.

Daisuke: Ouch? It sounds like you're disappointed in me.

Haruto: You're a nicer guy than I thought. No wonder you didn't fit in your workplace well.

Daisuke: Yeah, weakness isn't exactly encouraged in the mafia. I almost got bullied at some point.

Haruto: ...You work for the mafia?

Daisuke: Wasn't it obvious? What, did you not think I could get in?

Haruto: No, I wasn't expecting you to admit it just like that.

Daisuke: I'm full of surprises today, huh?

Haruto: You're getting antsy from your verdict, aren't you?

Daisuke: Hah! A terrible person like me, voted innocent? Don't fuck with me. I don't deserve this. A child like Rin would have a better chance at redemption...

Haruto: A child like Rin doesn't have any remorse for his murder.

Daisuke: ...

Haruto: Are you alright?

Daisuke: Look. I can't drum up any interest for the outside world any longer. You could offer to get me out of here right and I would refuse.

Haruto: What are you saying?

Daisuke: ...At least vote me guilty for the third trial. I've had enough.

Haruto: That's still a long way to go.

Daisuke: I know. Just make sure I don't leave this place.

Haruto: ...You might change your mind, but I'll agree for now.

Daisuke: Thank you, Haruto. You're a kind man.

Haruto: Hm. Tell me about the outside world.

Daisuke: Ah? Oh. Its not the alcohol a bar serves that makes it good, but the customers that go there. Good place to meet new people.

Haruto: Experienced, are you?

Daisuke: Haha, unfortunately.

Haruto: What else?

Daisuke: Malls are good places for entertainment. They've got all sorts of good stuff there. Movies, food, sometimes performances.

Haruto: Woah, they sound fun. If I ever get out, I should visit one.

Daisuke: Make sure to find the biggest one around.

[Bell rings, mechanical sounds in the back.]

Haruto: Thanks, Daisuke.

Daisuke: Yeah. I don't want to cause trouble for others anymore.

Haruto: Heh, the confession of a guilty man. Prisoner 003, sing your sins~!

[rocorambles]

Hit It Till It Breaks

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play

Prompt: Hard At Work

Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light. 

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.  

(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)

It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult. 

Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for! 

But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step. 

And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line. 

Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity. 

You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor. 

A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder. 

Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing. 

You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes. 

If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think. 

But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate. 

Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place. 

Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission. 

But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm? 

Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have? 

So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes. 

Or so you believe. 

You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds. 

There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods. 

It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path. 

“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.” 

Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.  

 You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers. 

“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.” 

You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd. 

But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants. 

You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place. 

It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable. 

And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…

 “So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”

 “Oye! Oikawa-”

“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”

There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face. 

Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you. 

You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right? 

Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.  

Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home. 

If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of. 

But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you. 

You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru. 

It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.  

So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries. 

And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.    

Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”. 

Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips. 

The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame. 

It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.  

Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing. 

When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch. 

You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”. 

It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four. 

But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting. 

And history repeats itself. Over and over again. 

Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you. 

Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock? 

And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.

You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint. 

Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of. 

Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy. 

Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases. 

“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.” 

He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with. 

But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it. 

“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him. 

It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you? 

But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use. 

So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose. 

Anything, huh? 

In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him. 

Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly. 

They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary. 

Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast. 

“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.” 

You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face. 

“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”

Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim. 

There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy. 

Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...

“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.” 

“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”

The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll. 

And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.

“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.” 

[bestiesenpai]

The Language of Flowers - Toji Fushiguro

Who is ready for Toji Fushiguro fluff? This is a flower shop au + a kinda mafia au, so let’s see how it turned out, shall we? Gender neutral reader and no warnings :)

“Welcome in!” Fifteen minutes after opening your shop for the day, you got your first customer. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to come in so early, usually a senior citizen or a shop owner looking to spruce up their place with a fresh bouquet. But the person walking in as you rounded the corner didn’t look like the typical type of early morning client.

Smartly dressed in a suit with a large double breasted overcoat hanging off broad shoulders, the man that walked in had a much more serious demeanor than you were used to. Inky black hair with strands hanging in his face, a prominent scar on the edge of one lip and half-lidded eyes that seemed to stare right through you as they landed on you.

“Hello.” Even the smooth, deep timbre of his voice was out of place as he walked past tables full of bright orchids and petunias. He moved slowly, all the time in the world at his fingertips as he approached the counter.

“How can I help you today?” There was something unnerving about him but you pushed it away, gripping the edges of your apron so he wouldn’t see your hands slightly tremble.

“You make bouquets, right?” Looking over his shoulders a few times, his eyes settled on a few pictures on the wall of past arrangements. “I need one for a funeral.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be, he had it coming.” Chuckling to himself, the man tapped his chest a few times.

“O-oh.” Blinking away your shock, you gestured to the flowers on display. “Any particular flowers you’d like?”

“Lilies are funeral flowers, right? A handful of those and some glitter should be fine.” Digging in his pocket, the man pulled out a wad of cash and placed a few bills on the counter that separated you. “This should be enough.”

“This is more than enough, I can’t-” He’d put a few hundreds on the counter, all crisp and clean like they were freshly printed.

“Don’t worry about it.” Waving off your apprehension, he pushed the money closer. “Think of it as me repenting.”

“What do you need to repent for?” Slowly taking the money, you regretted asking as the man chuckled again.

“I’m the reason this funeral’s happening.”

Ten minutes later, the man - who’s name you’d learned was Toji - was walking out of the door with a fresh bouquet of white lilies. He didn’t say anything further while he was there, mainly because you hid in the back room as you worked. You could hear his dress shoes clicking against the worn hardwood as he perused the shop and every once in a while he stopped to sniff a flower.

The rest of the day went by without incident, your regular customers came in and you were able to forget about the man that had occupied the space in the early morning. Only when you emptied out the register and saw the money sitting at the bottom did you think about him, which brought a light flush to your cheeks. As intimidating as he was, you couldn’t help but find him a bit attractive.

A week and a half went by until you saw him again. It was a surprise to hear him come into the shop at the same time as last, wearing another suit with the heavy coat on his shoulders.

“Another funeral?” You asked when you saw him and your question made his lips stretch into an unexpected laugh.

“Not this time! I’m going to a wedding later.” Toji’s laugh warmed your cheeks, it was a rich sound that came straight from the barrel of his chest.

“Are you getting married?” Your eyes darted down to his ringless fingers.

“Nope, the boss’ youngest daughter found love.” Fishing a phone out of his pocket, Toji showed you a picture of a girl clearly ecstatic with her lover and a very large ring on her finger, a few men that looked like bodyguards lingering in the background.

“How precious! What’re the colors for the wedding?”

“Beats me, I’m not in it.” Shrugging his shoulders, Toji gestured to a few pink roses. “I think she likes pink, so maybe a bit of those.”

“You think or you know?” You snorted, rounding the counter and going over to the flowers. “Weddings are a really big deal, she might not like it if you clash.” Toji opened and closed his mouth like he was going to say a witty retort, but instead he bit back a sigh and nodded curtly.

“Pick whatever you like then, I just need a bouquet that goes well with a stack of cash.” Holding his coat away from him, Toji flashed a white envelope tucked inside his inner pocket, along with the tell tale handle of a gun resting in a holster to his side.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Licking your lips nervously, you fought to keep your eyes steady and not look at the gun. Turning back to the flowers, you mulled over them longer than necessary to avoid facing him. “You said she likes pink?”

Thanking you once again for your service, Toji left with a large bouquet in his hands and a congratulations card he had you write. He even promised to come back and show you pictures of the wedding and while you appreciated the returning patronage, the man before you was starting to make you quite uneasy.

“You still open?” It was five minutes to closing time and the bell above the door alerted you to another customer, the sound of the voice telling you exactly who it was.

“Toji, you really came back.” It was a bit of a shock to see him twice in one day. He was a little more disheveled, the coat on his shoulders was gone and he didn’t have a suit jacket on, with the black button up he had underneath clearly wrinkled and coming untucked at one side.

“Yeah, the wedding was in the afternoon, and I only had to stay until the newlyweds left.” Running a hand through his hair, Toji checked the watch on his wrist as he grabbed his phone. It was nearing eight and the sign on the door clearly stated you were going to close soon, so he had to make this quick.

Sliding his phone wordlessly onto the counter, he gestured toward the pictures on the screen. The wedding was massive, a lot of money had clearly been spent to give the smiling bride everything she wanted.

“Toji, she’s holding my bouquet!” Walking down the aisle, arm in arm with who you assumed was her father, the bride was carrying the bouquet that you’d made.

“Hm? Yeah, guess she is.”

“She didn’t have her own?” If you had known she would be carrying it down the aisle you would have made it more extravagant and lush.

“She did, but she liked yours so much she took it.” The statement brought a silly smile to your lips and Toji laughed to himself, swiping through more photos. Every single one had jovial people but you couldn’t ignore the men in dark suits with stern looks on their faces in the background and flanking the bride's father in a few pictures.

“Do you really need that many bodyguards at a wedding?” Looking at the bride more closely, she wasn’t recognizable to you as any celebrity or daughter of a politician.

“When you do the business we do, yeah.” Coming to the end of the pictures, Toji tucked his phone away. Giving him a curious look, you began to untie the apron around your waist. The clock hung on the wall rang eight and it was time to close up shop.

“What kind of business?” You pressed, slowly starting to turn off the lights to the shop and ushering Toji out as you walked to the front.

“Honey, I don’t think you want to know.” Standing on the sidewalk as you locked up the shop, Toji grinned as he looked over the street and saw the other small businesses closing up for the night as well.

Narrowing your eyes briefly at him, you did a once over of Toji. He was quite broad, with clearly defined muscles on every slope and curve of his body. There were a couple scars on his hands to match the one on his lip and you could see the outline of a gun tucked into his hip clear as day. It wouldn’t be that hard to guess, but did you want to take that leap?

“Well whatever it is, it’s certainly keeping me afloat.” Shrugging your shoulders, you gave the doors one last tug before putting the keys away and beginning to walk away. “It was nice seeing you, Toji.” It was nice seeing more of his body and talking to him, having his attention solely on you.

“Take care getting home, (Y/N).” Giving you a quick wave, Toji fished a cigarette out of his pocket. “I’ll see you around.” Waving back at him, the two of you went your separate ways with the heat of the day dissipating in the air and masking the light flush on both of your cheeks.

Coming to work the next day, the scent of Toji’s cologne still lingered in the air as you walked in. Putting your apron on and starting to prep for the coming day, you found yourself waiting at the fifteen minute mark to see if he would come in with another request. But the only one that came was a delivery man holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

Thanking him, you quickly snatched the card that was attached and read it.

How often does a florist get flowers? Can’t imagine it’s a lot. These are a thank you from me and the boss for that bouquet the other day, it was a big hit.

- Toji

P.S. These aren’t nearly as bright as your smile but they come close, don’t they?

A warm blush invaded your whole body as you read the last line, giggling to yourself as you reread it a few times and looked at the sunflowers. They were indeed a bright and vibrant yellow and as you transferred them to a vase, your mouth refused to let go of the large smile stretching your cheeks wide and it stayed for the whole day.

The next few days were slow, the weather had taken a drastic turn and rain pelted the streets and drowned out any potential customers. There was even the low, distant rumble of thunder rolling in as you began to close up shop one day.

“Shit, it’s really coming down.” Standing at the front door, you watched small rivers of water flow down the street. The street was empty save for the few people running past to get out of the rain. Worrying your lip, you were at a standstill. Your bus stop was only a five minute walk away, but the reality of having to wait in the rain and get your shoes utterly soaked was keeping you rooted in place.

“Maybe I can wait it out.” Mumbling to yourself, you closed the door and flicked off the open sign. There was probably some prep you could do for the following morning while you waited for the weather to hopefully ease up a little, a bouquet you could get started on a little early or plants that might need a little sprucing up.

Sweeping aimlessly, touching up a few displays, double and triple checking the incoming flower deliveries - all of it took less than thirty minutes to complete and the rain seemed to be coming down even harder now. Wandering to the backroom, you were just about to rearrange another drawer when the wind whooshed by and shook the front door in its frame.

“(Y/N)? You in there?” Except it wasn’t the wind and that was certainly Toji’s voice. He was standing at the door, cupping his face against the glass and peeking into the shop. Rushing to open it for him, he was dripping big puddles onto the floor as he came in.

“What’re you doing here?” For once he had his large overcoat on and properly buttoned up and his hair was clinging to his face with fat water droplets streaking down his skin.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Why?” Grabbing a few paper towels, you cast him a curious look.

“Well…” Dabbing off his face, Toji took a glance at you before closing his eyes and wiping off his hair. “Just wanted to check on the shop, ya know, make sure it was holding up in this weather.” Toji’s cheeks turned a bit rosy and he wiped at his face a little more.

“I would say it’s holding up pretty fine.” Shrugging your shoulders, there wasn’t much you could do against the weather outside.

“Great, that’s...that’s great.” Toji trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around the shop. A loud crack of thunder broke the steadily growing tension, making you jump and shuffle a bit closer to him.

“This weather is awful.” You mumbled. Your fingers just brushed against the material of his coat and you wanted to cling onto it, have Toji open it so you could snuggle close to him and drown out the sounds of outside.

“Do you have a ride home? I notice it’s a bit past closing time.” Taking a glance at his watch, Toji looks at you with a raised brow.

“No, I ride the bus. I was hoping the rain would ease up so I could leave soon.”

“The bus? You can’t take that in this weather.” Shaking his head, Toji dug around in his pockets. “Wait here, I’ll give you a ride.”

“But you-” There was no car parked outside the shop and as you followed Toji to the door you didn’t see any waiting either.

“I parked around the corner. Lock up the shop and wait for me.” Patting the door frame a few times, Toji ducked his head and ran down the street. Watching him for as long as you could, you hurriedly turned the lights off and closed the door right as a shiny silver sports car pulled up.

Running out, you practically dove into the passenger's seat as soon as the door was opened. Toji had the heat cranked up, chasing away the nipping cold air that had followed you in. It smelled even more of Toji’s cologne in here, a scent you hoped would linger far after you left the car.

“Which way home?” He asked, pulling out into the street.

“Take a right up here and then go straight.” Doing as you said, Toji fiddled with the radio and let the low sound of music fill the air along with the rain. Driving down the slick roads, Toji came to a slow stop at a red light.

“Would you have seriously taken the bus if I hadn’t shown up?” Making a face at the weather, Toji clicked his tongue when he watched you nod.

“Or I would have just slept in the backroom.” Your comment made him laugh, an abrupt bark that came from his stomach and had him leaning forward a little.

“Really? Made a pillow among those pretty flowers?”

“I’m sure they’d be quite comfortable.” Laughing as well, you looked out the window as he began to drive again. As the laughter turned to soft chuckles, you felt the urge to speak again and keep the conversation going. It was easy to talk to Toji and despite your apprehension upon first meeting him, you could see yourself becoming friends with the man.

“Well this is just great.” Coming to a grinding halt, Toji let out a soft groan and gestured to the traffic filled road ahead of him. “Did people forget how to drive in the fucking rain or something?”

“Maybe…” Leaning around in your seat, you could see the tell-tale flashing of emergency lights. “I think someone got into an accident up there, I can see an ambulance.”

“They had to choose tonight to fuck their car up?” Rolling his eyes, Toji sunk into the driver's seat, drumming his fingers against the wheel and taking a peek in the rearview mirror. “Seems like we’re stuck here, there’s too many people to turn back now.”

Turning over your shoulder, you blanched at the sight of all the cars suddenly behind you. The road you were travelling on wasn’t particularly busy to begin with but it seemed the inclimate weather had other plans.

“Guess we wait then.” Sinking down to match him, you watched the rain smatter against the windshield. The soft jazz Toji had chosen fit the atmosphere nicely and the heat coming from the vents kept any chill away from you. The longer you sat in the comfortable quiet, the more tempting it seemed to close your eyes and take a nap.

“Hey.” A hand curling around your knee and fingers digging slightly into your leg jostled you awake. Taking a sharp, sudden inhale of the cologne scented air you jolted upright and blinked away the sleep in your eyes.

“W-what?” Looking around, you had made a significant distance on the road and it seemed you were past whatever was blocking you.

“You fell asleep on me, sweetheart.” Toji chuckled, letting his hand slide from your leg and back to the steering wheel. “And I kinda need your help to get you home.”

“Right, sorry.” Quickly clearing your throat, you pointed down the street. “Uhm, at that next light you can take a right.” With just a few more turns and straightaways, you successfully guided Toji to your home without falling asleep again.

“Hurry inside, don’t want you getting soaked.” Turning to you as he put the car in park, Toji flicked his chin toward your home.

“I will.” Smiling at his concern, you gathered your things and put a hand on the door handle. Taking one last whiff of his cologne, you nodded to him. “Thank you so much Toji, I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Waving you off, Toji stayed until he saw you go into your house and close the door, only pulling away when he was sure you were settled inside.

That night you listened to the radio station Toji had on as you took a bath to wind down from the day, curling your own hand around your knee and imagining what it’d be like to take a bath with him instead of alone.

As you walked to work the next day, avoiding big puddles and dripping eaves, it was embarrassing to admit that Toji was still on your mind. A silly crush on the scarred man was blooming in your chest and making you more and more giddy with every step.

“Special delivery!” At midday, a delivery driver waltzed into the shop with a massive bouquet, all sorts of pinks and purples and reds filling your field of vision as they approached.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you have the right place?” The arrangement looked too extravagant to be something Toji would give you on a whim.

“Are you (Y/N)?” Showing you the postage, clear as day it had your name on it.

“Oh, yes that is me.” Signing for the flowers, you struggled to hold them in your arms. The petals tickled your cheeks as you smelled them, plush against your skin and soft to the touch.

Putting them in a vase, you made sure they were prominently displayed at the counter for all to see and every so often you would stop to look at them, letting a gentle sigh of happiness leave your lips.

Another bouquet came the next day as well, just as big and beautiful as the first, and attached to it was a note.

Hope you like the flowers, (Y/N). I got called away on a business trip, so I thought I’d give you something so you wouldn’t miss me too much while I’m away.

- Toji

Tucking the note into your apron as a few customers walked in, throughout the day you took it out to reread it and look at Toji’s messy handwriting scribbled onto whatever florist shop he’d bought the notecard from.

Everyday without fail, for nine days straight, there were flowers delivered to the shop. You weren’t always there to collect them but your neighbors certainly were, gawking openly at the multitude of flowers in vases now crowding the store and threatening to push out your actual inventory.

On the final day there was a note attached to the bouquet as well, this time a dozen red roses with the thorns snipped off.

I’m coming home today, keep the shop open for me? I promise I won’t be too late.

- Toji

This note was clearly typed out, it didn’t have the familiar scratchy lines and jagged edges that you’d memorized from Toji’s previous note. Glancing at the time and looking around the shop at all the vases, none of the happiness that getting them brought you could compare to the feeling threatening to burst your chest open at knowing you’d see Toji soon.

All day you kept an eye on the clock, working faster than you ever had before just to make sure you had no customers waiting in case he came in early. Sweeping and dusting a hundred times over, you’d practically mopped a hole in the floor as you counted the seconds down until you could lock up the shop.

Locking the door and sitting eagerly at the counter, you tried to make yourself look busy. There wasn’t anything you could possibly do, no papers needed to be straightened up and there certainly wasn’t anything to clean, so you waited what felt like ages for a knock on the door.

Walking around in circles in the backroom to try and stave off the anxious energy building inside you, you jumped nearly two feet in the air when there was a loud knock at the door. Wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, you took several deep breaths before rounding the corner and laying your eyes on Toji.

“H-hi.” Opening up the door in record time, there was a harsh heat burning your face as you let him in. You could barely meet him in the eye and instead looked at his bloody knuckles as he stepped past you. “What happened to your hands?”

“Don’t worry about it, I fell on the way here.” Taking out a handkerchief, Toji wiped the blood off his hands and as you took a look at him you noticed there weren't any traces of dirt or dust on his clothes.

“Come wash your hands at the sink.” Guiding him over by the sleeve to a sink at the corner of the shop, you got a whiff of the cologne you loved so much. Watching Toji wash his hands, you were aware how close you were standing to him, pressed snugly against the counter while he lathered.

“How’ve you been, doll?” Toji let a smirk stretch his lips and he glanced at you, his own cheeks getting a bit pink.

“Good.” Looking out at the shop and all the flowers he sent, you let out a little laugh. “Really good.”

“You liked the flowers?” Turning around, Toji leaned against the edge of the sink and chuckled at the sight before him. “Looking at it all now, I think I might have gone a little overboard.”

Your arms were pressed against each other, Toji’s clearly more muscular and much larger than your own. He didn’t have an overcoat on or even a suit like he usually did, he was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a very fitted black t-shirt, one that you had to keep yourself from ogling as it clung to his body.

“You know why I sent them, don’t you?” He asked, cutting through the silence and your daydream. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out why he was sending you so many flowers but you felt too nervous to say it aloud in case you were wrong, so you only nodded.

Fiddling with his damp fingers, Toji bit his lip and grabbed onto your hand with both of his. Engulfing your hand, he squeezed it and brought it up to his chest where you could just barely feel the rapid beat of his heart.

“So, if I asked you out on a date would you say yes?” Speaking with his lips pressed against your hand, Toji peeked at you from the corner of his eye. You stood there, locked in a staring match as both of you refused to even breathe too loudly and break the tension.

“Yes, I would.” You finally spoke, nodding your head and trying to calm the shaking in your body. Breaking out into a full smile, Toji let your hands go and clutched at his chest.

“Geez, you had me fucking worried there for a moment!” Taking a few deep breaths along with shaky laughter, Toji shook his head and forced himself to calm down, square his shoulders and look at you properly. “(Y/N), will you go on a date with me tonight?”

“Yes.” Only able to meet his eye for a moment, you giggled bashfully and put a hand over your face in embarrassment. There was a moment of silence filled with only your giggles and Toji’s relieved sigh, and then he snapped his fingers and tugged on your sleeve.

“Alright, get your stuff and lock up, I’ll grab the car.” Fiddling with the keys in his pocket, Toji quirked a brow when you gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you walked? You said you fell on the way here...” Walking slowly to grab your things, you felt even more confused when Toji laughed.

“Yeah I fell and some idiot was lucky enough to catch my fist on the way down. Now let’s get going, there’s a ramen shop I wanna take you to.” Getting to the door, he leaned against the frame and waited for you to walk up before fully exiting the store.

“Toji, did you get in a fight?”

“A fight? What? No way!” Waving you off, Toji began to walk down the street to where he parked his car. “A fight implies that the other guy even stood a chance!”

“What?” You shouted back, surprised he could say something like that so casually.

“Don’t worry about it, honey, it’s all in the past.” Stopping and turning on a dime in the middle of the sidewalk, Toji gave you a grin. “(Y/N), I should get you flowers for our date, shouldn’t I?”

“I never thought I’d say this but no Toji, I don’t want flowers for our date.” Laughing at the absurdity of the question, you watched Toji pretend to think about what you said for a moment.

“Right, anyway, I’ll stop at a florist on the way.” Nodding to himself, Toji began to walk away again. “Another dozen roses sound good, maybe I’ll make ‘em pink this time.” Looking over his shoulder, Toji winked at you. “And maybe I’ll get a kiss too.”

[hopeswriting]

EVENT: KHR Rare Pair Week 2022

PROMPT: Day 8 - Accidental Baby Acquisition

PAIRING: Mammon | Viper & Belphegor

SUMMARY:

Mammon goes to the bathroom for like, a second, and comes back to their table to a child calling himself a prince eating the food they ordered for themself.

They’re not happy about it.

RATING: G

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

TAG WARNINGS: Swearing, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Murderer, Blood

WORD COUNT: 4489

LINKS: Ao3 & Ff.net

[Plain text:

EVENT: KHR Rare Pair Week 2022

PROMPT: Day 8 - Accidental Baby Acquisition

PAIRING: Mammon | Viper & Belphegor

SUMMARY:

Mammon goes to the bathroom for like, a second, and comes back to their table to a child calling himself a prince eating the food they ordered for themself.

They’re not happy about it.

RATING: G

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

TAG WARNINGS: Swearing, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Murderer, Blood

WORD COUNT: 4489

LINKS: Ao3 & Ff.net /End PT]

*

Mammon has dealt with many complex, deadly, high stakes and time-sensitive situations before, all at the same time more often than not too, and they’re proud to say they’ve always come out on top of them flawlessly. So when they come out of the bathroom to find their table has been invaded by a child sitting in their seat and eating their food, a fairly low stakes and all around easily dealt with situation?

Of course, the first very intelligent words out of their mouth are, “What the fuck?”

No, but really, what the fuck? Where the hell did that brat come from? The hell is he covered in blood for, and is that a real tiara on top of his head? And most importantly, is he planning to pay for the food himself? Because Mammon sure as hell won’t pay for the food they didn’t even get to eat.

“Peasant,” the brat says, turning his head to them, presumably looking at them too from under the bangs covering his eyes, not stopping eating, and oh, Mammon did not just hear him call them that, “this is cheap. The prince followed you because you looked like money, but this tastes like dirt and will hurt my stomach later. Buy the prince the best this restaurant has.”

Mammon did not just hear him say all that.

First of all, they better look like money, and smell like money, and taste like money, and feel like money when they always work so hard to get their hands on money, and they’re willing to give the brat points for that accurate judgment of their person.

Second of all, the nerve of that little shit. He’s literally wolfing down their food, so much for the manners of a so-called prince—but no, he actually is a prince, meaning the tiara on his head is also the real thing, right?

That’s probably because he was starving now that Mammon looks at him more closely, his skin pale and his body too thin under his bloodied, dirty and worn-out clothes. So what, is he coming straight from the streets?

He comes from less than ideal circumstances at the very least all prince he is, but it’s his problem. He’s eating the food he clearly hasn’t the means to pay for, unless he’s not too attached to his tiara, except he’s going to give it to Mammon as compensation for eating their food whether he is or not, and his unpaid bill will just have to be between him and the restaurant.

“Whose child is it?” they ask the restaurant at large, displeased. Because the fact they let him in even while he looks like he does is one thing, as this is a mafia-run establishment, but that they let him sit at their table and start eating their food, no matter what bullshit he may have told them to get there? Here goes their tip, no matter how many might say it was always going to be a cheap one anyway.

“I mean, he’s sat at your table, isn’t he?” someone from a nearby table says, and Mammon wants to gut him open right there and then.

“You think you’re funny?”

The brat snickers, but the man not so much. And he clearly thought he was funny, but he has the common sense to realize they’re not in the mood to joke around, tensing and flinching back before ducking his head, hunching over himself.

“Peasant,” the brat calls out again, craning his neck to look them in the eye. Or where Mammon makes him think their eyes are anyway, not having been in the mood to deal with their cursed form today. The brat shakes their now empty from their strawberry milk glass at them, and oh, he just did not. “More food and drink, hurry it up.”

Mammon huffs, and almost even laughs.  It seems the brat thinks they can’t or won’t kill him, when they very much can and will and want to, that little shit. Yes, even if he’s—what, five years old? No, eight apparently, but it’s not like they care whichever it is. “How are you going to pay me back for what you already ate?”

The brat laughs. “The prince can eat whatever he wants for free.”

Yeah, he wishes. “And I’m free to claim any of your valuable belongings for myself as compensation.” Yes, they’re trying to rob an eight years old child of his tiara, so much more expensive than the food he just ate without planning to pay for it, so what of it? They live in a cruel world, and they’ve never been a nice person.

The brat laughs again, but there’s an unmistakable threat in his voice this time, and he’s suddenly holding on a silver, jagged knife. “You can’t have it. Only a prince like me can wear this crown.”

So he’s that kind of little shit. Of course he is. Not necessarily mafia, but clearly dealing in much the same shady, illegal, reprehensible things the mafia does either way.

Not that all that dry blood on him didn’t already tell them that, and yes, Mammon is focusing on that because the last thing they need is for pissed off mafiosi or the police to burst into the restaurant, and misunderstand because the brat’s sitting at their table eating their food, and talking to them like they’ve been his servant all his life.

They sigh. They’re hungry and exhausted and woke up in a bad mood, and they’re so not dealing with that right now.

They’ve literally just gone to the bathroom for like, a second. A second, and now this? That little shit of a brat?

Yeah, no, just no. Not today, or ever if they can have it their way, and they will, even if they’ll mourn that shiny and so, so expensive tiara.

They mist themself away.

*

Someone’s been trying to force open their door for the last five minutes, and they know he’ll just keep trying until Mammon has to make an effort to not kill him. They very reluctantly open the door, and Belphegor stands behind it, because of course it’s him.

Mammon has no idea how he keeps finding them, all by himself too because the prince hasn’t any princely means or contacts to fall back on, but they need to figure it out ASAP so they can make it stop. They’ve changed residence four times already in the last two months, and it’s bad for their businesses and reputation in various ways.

“Peasant,” Belphegor greets them, beaming, because he likes their game of hide-and-seek, especially when he keeps winning. Mammon absentmindedly takes note of how he’s covered in blood, and they have no idea either why he likes it so much he has still to show up in a clean, proper state. “Found you.”

He promptly tries to cut them open with his knives, but they go right through them.

Mammon sighs, leaving him to it, not moving an inch. They hold back on their laughter too, because even if he sometimes aims at their real body out of sheer luck and they have to phase it so his knives will cut through them like water, he’s mostly slashing air, their cursed form hidden by the illusion of their adult body.

Belphegor doesn’t try for long, not one to waste his efforts on hopeless tasks, stepping back and putting his knives away. He doesn’t look put on by his failed attempt though, instead looking more happy than before. He laughs. “You’re strong.”

Mammon holds back on another sigh. Maybe if they’d have let him “win” that first time, they’d be rid of him already. Then again, they weren’t about to let themself lose against an eight years old child, not even by just pretending to.

Not that Belphegor isn’t strong for his age, because he is. He’s a genius even, and will grow to become quite the annoying little terror running around, but he’s still only a brat.

“How do you keep finding me?”

“Of course I do, I’m a prince.”

“How come you haven’t been arrested or killed yet?” How hard can it be, really? He is but an eight years old child at the end of the day.

Belphegor actually scoffs, that little shit. “Princes don’t get arrested or killed.”

“Only because you keep killing them first. Aren’t you getting bored of it?”

He shrugs, unrepentant, and then even laughs. “The prince enjoys his fun.” He’s easily entertained is what he doesn’t say, and apparently isn’t going to get tired or bored of it any time soon, unfortunately for Mammon if he plans to keep showing up at their door. “Let me in, the prince needs a bath and food. Get to it, peasant.” He doesn’t wait for their permission to come in, and though of course Mammon could very easily stop him, they don’t.

They could very easily kill him and get rid of him for good, but what kind of low-ranked, shameful, pathetic mafiosi kill a child that isn’t more than a mild annoyance just to prove they can? Even if the child in question is very good at being a mild annoyance?

Most importantly, what kind of high-ranked mafiosi, the literal best of the best, can’t find another way to deal with an eight years old child who’s nothing more than a mild annoyance without straight-up killing them?

No, their reputation and businesses would take a big hit from that, and they can’t have that. They’ll just have to find something else to get rid of him. Which they will, because it’s not like they’re being paid to babysit him, and there’s some lines you just have to stand by firmly.

“Drop your bloodied clothes with my non-bloodied ones in my laundry basket again, and I’ll drown you in your bath.” Because of course the little shit only takes baths, as if he’s the one paying the bills or helping with them in any way.

Belphegor laughs, walking to the bathroom, having learned from that time he waited for hours for Mammon to draw his bath for him. Mammon lets themself snort at the thought. Yeah, because that was ever going to happen.

*

Bel lies face down in a random, dirty alley, bodies around him and covered in blood, as usual.

Mammon sighs. They still don’t know why they just keep running into each other, even when, clearly, Bel wasn’t looking for them, too busy dying in the streets. They’ve just felt like taking the long way home, losing potential enemies tailing them while they were at it which is always good in their book, but here they are now all of a sudden.

They fly down next to his face, and sure enough the brat has some kind of fever, his face sweaty and red and twisted in pain, his breathing labored. Mammon wrinkles their nose as they lift his bloodied shirt with the tip of their fingers, and wrinkles it even more at the smell of what can only be a nasty, infected wound somewhere on his back, but it’s hard to pinpoint where exactly through all the blood.

They let go of his shirt, flying a bit away, not that surprised. The surprising thing is that it had yet to happen, really. Bel probably doesn’t even know how to deal with a scratch by himself, all prince he’s been all his life. Not that it’s any of Mammon’s concerns.

He only reaped what he sewed, and they should just get on their way now, have every right to, even. Bel has nothing to do with them, and he’s sure as hell not their responsibility, nor do they care about him or if he lives or dies. It actually works out perfectly for them, because now they’ll be rid of him for good, and it won’t reflect badly on them because they wouldn’t have had anything to do with it.

Yeah, they should just go now.

They don’t, for some weird, inexplicable reason.

They transform themself in their adult body to carry him to their home, treat his injuries and settle him in their bed. They stay awake by his side through the night, checking on his fever and injuries, making sure he’ll make it through the night.

Bel regains consciousness sometime near the crack of dawn, not moving an inch for a confused beat before smiling. “Mammy.”

Mammon scowls. “Don’t call me that.” They really shouldn’t have given him their name. Why did they give him their name, actually?

Bel’s smile falls from his lips as he raises a weak hand to touch the bangs covering his eyes.

Mammon scoffs. “Unlike a certain someone I know who’s always trying to peak under my hood, I couldn’t care less, you little shit.”

Bel laughs, but raises his hand higher up his hair instead of dropping it back. "The prince will know soon."

Mammon gestures with their head at the tiara next to his pillow. "Right there."

Bel grabs it in his hand without a word, though his shoulders visibly sag. He marks a pause then during which Mammon thinks he might have fallen back asleep, but he's pursing his lips in the way he does when something confuses him.

Ah, right. It’s the first time he sees them in their cursed form.

Mammon waits for him to say something, and not anything that’ll make them want to maim him if he knows what’s good for him, but Bel just laughs again. “You’re cute.” Mammon clicks their tongue, displeased, even if they actually feel incredulous. Of course they’ve heard that a lot before, but in Bel’s mouth it’s just that, cute, and they’re not sure what to make of that. “The prince likes it,” Bel says before they can say anything. “Princes shouldn’t ever be look down upon.”

Mammon scoffs again, but it might actually have been more of a snort. “Of course this is your takeaway from this.”

Bel tries to laugh again, but only manages a huff of laughter, starting to fall back asleep. Meanwhile Mammon is… unsettled.

This is not the way they thought that particular conversation would go, not that they thought Bel would annoy them long enough for that conversation to even happen to begin with. And they usually don’t like to hear about how anyone likes that cursed, wretched form of theirs, shouldn’t like it even now, but in Bel’s mouth...

Whatever they feel now isn’t unpleasant, and would even make them comfortable staying in their cursed form in his presence if they allow it, but they aren’t about to do that.

That little shit. That brat. When the hell did he even get Mammon to a point where they’re nursing him back to health? They’re not even being paid for it, and sure as hell not by Bel!

“Don’t think I’m not meticulously keeping track of your tab, fully intending to cash on it sooner than later. And this one will cost you a lot, brat.”

“Princes don’t pay for anything,” Bel mumbles sleepily, barely loud enough for Mammon to hear him.

“Princes apparently don’t know how to treat their own wounds either. What kind of genius are you supposed to be?”

Bel grins as best he can in his half-dead, half-asleep state. “Why should I? You’ll take care of them for me.”

Mammon should have plenty to say to that, but they find themself at a loss of words, find they can’t deny it. They are taking care of his wounds for him in this very moment, aren’t they?

Oh, for fuck’s sake. They went to the bathroom for a second, and now this?

They don’t like this one bit.

*

“Mammy, the prince’s hungry!” Bel calls out, sauntering out of their bedroom like he owns the place.

Mammon’s taking a bit of a break in the living room, or was anyway, reading the newspapers. They don’t even bother looking away from the one they’re currently reading. “Starve and drop dead, then. Better yet, get the hell out of my house if you feel better enough to annoy me.”

“The prince demands food,” Bel says again, walking to the couch.

He reaches out to them with his arms, but Mammon sharply catches his eye. “Don’t.”

Bel stops, but he looks considering, challenging. A tense beat passes between them, but then he lowers his arms, ultimately choosing to be smart about it and stay alive.

Mammon might have stayed in their cursed form around him since that night, but it doesn’t mean they’ll ever allow anyone to carry them like they’re an actual toddler.

Bel laughs. “I angered Mammy,” he says in a sing-song tone. He then flops face down on the floor, and Mammon doesn’t even have a carpet on it.

They raise their eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Starving and dropping dead. Feed the prince if you want him to get up.”

Mammon snorts. “You think this isn’t an improvement for me? Just stay still and quiet right where you are.”

“These clothes are cheap, Mammy. Fitting for peasants, not a prince like me. They itch my skin, go buy me better ones.”

“Cry me a river.”

“I knew there was something weird about you,” he suddenly says, catching their eye, looking proud like he just uncovered a particularly well-kept secret. “You feel weird.”

What, so he could tell all along? It’s not really surprising seeing as he should become Active any day now, though it is a bit impressive, because Mammon isn’t just any Mist by the longest shot.

That he can feel it though?

Mammon reaches out with a bit of their flames, their newspapers completely forgotten. They poke at Bel, tasting the waters, making sure his flames won’t instinctively lash out, but Bel just laughs, wiggling as if he’s being tickled, letting their flames in.

Mammon finds his flames quickly, just there behind the last threshold separating his subconscious from his conscious realm, waiting to break through. He has Storm flames, and Mammon’s utterly unsurprised by it.

They poke carefully at them with their flames, testing the waters once again, looking for a clue on what exactly they should be looking for. They take on a firmer approach when it gives them nothing, letting their flames mingle a bit with his.

“It’s warm,” Bel says, still laughing and wiggling, maybe trying to scratch the sensation he’s not physically feeling. “How do you do that? How can the prince do it too?”

His flames instinctively press against theirs eagerly, entangling themselves further and deeper with theirs, wrapping themselves around theirs.

Mammon’s flames let them.

Mammon’s flames reciprocate just as eagerly, protectively holding onto his flames, wrapping themselves around them—

Mammon abruptly wrenches them away from Bel’s, calling them back to them and burying them deep in their core, out of reach. Blinding ragefear blacks out their vision, and they fear to see Bel dead when they come back to themself.

He isn’t, has even been left unscathed, but his sight only makes them see more red, makes them choke on—

They don’t even have the words for it, but couldn’t find them in their state even if they did.

Bel and them are bonded. That’s why they always keep running into each other, why Bel has such an easy time finding them even when they don’t want to be found, why Mammon always ends up stumbling upon him even when Bel isn’t looking for them, instinctively wanting to check up on him.

They’re bonded, and absolute dread threatens to drown them in the deepest waters, but they turn it into wrath instead.

No, no, not ever again. It’s been decades but it always feels like it happened yesterday, always feels like it just happened, and Mammon won’t ever take the risk of it ever happening to them again.

They reach into their core, into their flames, angry at themself too for letting that happen. Of course they’ve heard of flames reaching out to each other’s upon first meeting on the instinctual knowledge they’ll be able to bond together as long as they’ll be allowed and nurtured to, but when and why when they should have known better, when they do know better, and how could they possibly have not noticed it right then and there—

No, it doesn’t matter, and will not matter ever again real soon.

They hunt down the red in their indigo, sinking their claws deep into it, and they’re not kind or careful, and don’t plan to be anything but thorough. They were careless and let themself be bonded again, however superficial it still is, but they will not, ever, let themself be the one being discarded away again.

“Mammy?”

Mammon’s breath catches in their throat. Bel has never sounded like that before.

They look at him, actually seeing him when they’ve been looking at him without really seeing him. He’s on his knees, one hand clutched on his chest, his lips pursed tightly, his features tensed, confusion and worry and fear all in the same expression.

Bel’s never looked like that before either.

“What is it?”

Mammon could have laughed. They only realize now they’ve stood up on the couch, only realize now how tight their fists are, how hard they grit their teeth together, how thick and threatening their flames are in the air, even if still invisible.

What is it?

They couldn’t even begin to explain to him what this is, not when just the knowledge of what it is is always too much for them to keep waking up each day, even when they make a point to keep waking up each day anyway.

But he doesn’t need to know. Mammon has still a firm, deep hold on the part of his flames mingled with theirs, and they just have to rip them away from theirs now.

They should.

They will.

It won’t even mean anything in the long run for either of them. It will hurt, but their bond is still in the early stages so it won’t leave any lasting damages, won’t hurt any more than a good beating with a bit of prejudice would.

The pain will still likely trigger Bel’s flames, and it will leave an unfortunate lasting impression on the first time he was able to light his flames, but he’ll get over it. He’ll live. He’ll even still be able to bond with other people like everyone else.

Mammon will rip his flames away from theirs, they will.

They sink their claws deeper into them, making sure they’ll get all of it out of them.

They don’t.

They let his flames go, calling theirs back to them. They breathe out slowly and deeply then, uncurling their fists one finger at a time.

They don’t want Bel’s first experience with bonding to be that. Don’t want to be the one making it be that.

Mammon doesn’t want to ever become the type of person who’d do what has been done to them to someone else, let alone to a clueless, eight years old child.

Let alone to Bel, even if it means they might become the one being hurt again.

Mammon flops down on the couch, leaning their back against it, feeling drained. Drained, but surprisingly not defeated, and whatever they’re feeling instead, it’s not unpleasant.

“Mammy?” Bel calls out again, and sounds a bit more like his usual self. “Does the prince need to kill someone?”

Mammon snorts, but they find they mean it, and then genuinely laughs. “The day I’ll need a brat like you to kill someone for me will be the day I’ll retire so I’ll never have to show my face around again.”

“You can’t afford me anyway,” Bel says, grinning. He drops his hand from his chest, but stays on his knees, keeps his focus steady on them, still tentative, because he’s always been a little shit of a smart, perceptive, genius brat. And certainly Mammon can’t say they won’t lash out again should they be set off again even by the littlest thing.

“I call dibs.”

Bel wrinkles his nose. “On what?”

“Your tiara once you actually drop dead. You can barely afford my services even with that, you brat.”

Bel laughs, the last of his tension seeping away from his body. He lies face down against the floor again. “Princes don’t die, Mammy, don’t you know?”

“Don’t you ever jinx my peace and sanity like that ever again.”

Bel bursts out laughing, and Mammon watches him, wondering when their life has come to that.

No, they actually know when, and they’re still petty about Bel eating their food without even paying them back the money they ended up not paying for.

That little shit. That brat. And Mammon is still not being paid for any of it.

God, they really should have just stayed in their bed that day, but then again...

Yeah, whatever.

*

Mammon opens the door to Bel, covered in blood, as usual. An older boy stands next to him, short silver hair and grey eyes, less covered in blood and less banged up than Bel, but not any more presentable, and it’s less usual.

“This little shit is your brat?” he asks, glossing right over their cursed form and the fact they’re flying, and Mammon gives him points for it.

“You did that to him?” they ask, a purposeful, obvious edge in their voice, not looking back at Bel and his injuries.

Not that Bel himself seems to have a problem with that, but when isn’t he ever happy and pleased with himself when he gets to cover himself in blood, even when he loses? Which they know he did, because Superbi Squalo, new Sword Emperor after he beat Tyr, the previous one, fair and square, simply isn’t a foe Bel can deal with yet.

“Yeah, and he did this to me,” Squalo says, gesturing at himself up and down dismissively. “Big deal, get over it.” He grabs Bel by the back of his shirt, pulling him to his side then pushing him in front of him. “Your brat will become Varia from now on, get over it too.”

“Absolutely not,” Mammon says sharply before they even truly register what he just said.

Is he insane?

Is Bel?

The last thing they all need is for Bel to grow up in a place where his deranged self will be left loose in all its glory in the worst of ways, God forbid.

“Yes, I will,” Bel says, grinning, because of course he does. He elbows Squalo in the guts to make him let go of his shirt, and then ignores his pained cursing. “It sounds like I’ll enjoy it if the peasant shark is to be believed. Mammy, the prince demands you come along with him.”

Mammon pinches the bridge of their nose, closing their eyes, then takes a deep, deep, long breath.

They went to the bathroom for a fucking second, goddammit all.

They couldn’t ever be paid enough for all this bullshit.

*

Not much to say about this one except that it was a lot of fun to write lol.

Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

[Plain text: “Not much to say about this one except that it was a lot of fun to write lol.

Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!” in bold. /End PT]

[neonponders]

Based on @lovebillyhargrove ‘s This Steve with This Billy. (original concept credit to @youfuckingdonut)

I’m having more success with mafia drabbles than my on-going mafia fics orz

• • • • • • •

Steve didn’t know what Billy’s job actually was.

He knew the guy wore nice shirts and nicer blazers, suit jackets, and tuxedo pieces. He knew Billy had to be either the boss or close to it, because he only wore the pieces of a full suit or tuxedo. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he burned every tie he saw. Always had too many buttons undone.

But he looked good. And he knew he looked good. He walked right up to Steve waiting in line with Robin at a cafe before it closed. They’d gone to a nightclub at the absurd time of 8 o’clock. Hey, no door charge because they showed up so early. They were drunk off their ass and sweaty by 11pm. He called it an efficient night out.

“I’ve never been so happy to have a box of stale croissants in my life,” Robin mused as the tired barista used the tongs in the glass display case.

Steve bounced from foot to foot, still dancing to the bad radio pop overhead. He cracked open his juice from the chilled shelves, since asking for a coffee five minutes shy of closing might get a wad of spit mixed in - 

“You’re light on your feet.”

Steve didn’t think too heavily on it when he was drunk. Everyone was prettier when the brain behind the eyes was in some cups, just like all food tasted better. Maybe he should’ve devoted more brain cells to the moment. But that was a lost cause now.

He and Robin chatted and Steve apologized for his hand being wet with condensation and sweat when the guy offered a handshake. Even through the sparkly haze of alcohol, Steve could tell he gave Steve the time of day more than Robin, but they were on their way out anyway.

Steve might’ve said, “Well that was a great nightcap. He’s tasty,” a bit loud before the cafe door shut behind them. Robin coughed on her croissant and Steve guffawed and swiped it for himself before taking off down the street with her chasing after him.

But then Steve just kept running into him.

The guy from the cafe.

Walking into the park as Steve was leaving it. Strolling by the bank before Steve went inside.

With his designer clothes and his clean shoes and smooth, clean shaven jaw made ever so slightly tacky from skincare and lotion when it touched Steve’s face. Because he leaned too far forward over the table he was serving at his upscale restaurant job and

Time froze in a vacuum

Because Steve could’ve sworn he - Billy - lifted his face into the shadow of Steve’s neck. Inhaled.

It was a miracle he didn’t drop a plate or spill a glass. He dared the briefest glance but blue eyes pierced him regardless of the emotion behind them. Steve felt like a dagger tied on a string hung through his belly, lazily stirring his nerves and threatening to land dangerously in his groin.

He left the table before he made a fool of himself and all the company present. Large tables guaranteed large tips. He’d be set for the next month if he just didn’t fuck this up. He strode past the open-air kitchen and the ‘butler’s pantry’ area to hallway with the staff bathrooms -

Hands turned him around by his hips, surprisingly warm despite the thick poly-cotton of his white apron and the black slacks underneath.

The dagger fell.

The kiss was soft despite how ravenously Billy plundered his mouth. It was all Steve could do, to hold onto his nape and then wrap his arms behind Billy’s neck. He tasted like steak and amaretto and neutral sweet, like a man. Mewls and moans left Steve’s throat like he couldn’t stop them. Didn’t want to. Just wanted to drown in whatever this was.

Billy pivoted them so Steve pressed into the wallpaper. He hummed again as his hand found the clean shaven fade on the back of Billy’s head, his blunt fingertips petting and scratching there like he hadn’t known this man for more than an hour of collective encounters.

A sound left Billy’s chest. It hit Steve’s core like a pebble on a bell before he broke the kiss enough to meet Steve’s gaze. Clear blue eyes far more sober than Steve felt and probably looked. Wrecked with lust for this stranger who had money and means to always find him.

“A car’s going to pick you up later.”

Steve blinked with reticence, not wanting to leave this haze but already out of it.

“Get into the car.” The pad of Billy’s thumb touched Steve’s lip, light but insistent. He breathed, “Steve,” before leaving the hallway. Pleading. At least, Steve wanted it to be a plea.

But he was gone when Steve checked back at the table to top up waters and drinks. In singles and pairs, the group left until Steve was left to collect dishes and wonder who the hell managed their tabs. His manager answered that question for him moments later, by shoving a thick fold of cash into his apron pocket.

“Your tip from table twenty-three.”

“I didn’t see you get the bills,” he commented, intending to reach in and see what the high rollers tipped - 

She shoved his hands away from his pocket. “You don’t take money out in the open, silly. Get back to your locker for that.”

Steve knew he never saw her with a pile of receipt folders with credit cards sticking out of them. But he went back to work and didn’t take inventory of his tips until closing.

That table might’ve spent $1200 on dinner and drinks.

Steve got $1100 in tips. What kind of math that was, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t fixate on it too much, because inside the fold of money was a piece of paper with a phone number. No name. Steve could assume it to be Billy’s but he didn’t know...

Get into the car.

Steve zipped up his coat as he stepped out of the employees’ entrance. He emerged out of the service alleyway to...a regular city street. No cars more or less than normal, and none of them stood out...

Did he even want to get in?

He almost shook his head, just to jostle his thoughts around. “Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid,” he whispered to himself as he turned and marched his ass home. He didn’t know this guy: a person with a scary amount of recon on his life to be able to find him at any ol’ time. His dinner friends weren’t exactly a college reunion, either.

But he kissed like a god and tasted like one too.

He held Steve like he wanted him, and Christ, Steve wanted to be wanted.

The privilege of being craved.

He was wrist deep in shampoo with his eyes closed when he realized someone pounded on his apartment door. The panic of rinsing suds off his body as fast as possible, the terror of someone at his door at 2am, and the fury of pissing off his neighbors at 2am spurred him out of the shower and into a t-shirt on top of the towel around his waist.

God sure as hell could’ve been at his door and Steve would’ve answered it the same way.

“It’s 3am! Shut the hell up!” he hissed.

Billy looked equal measures of pissed and concerned, but he blinked and amusement crept in. He wore a long, swanky pea coat that looked soft to the touch. Steve was more preoccupied with moving out of his way when the guy strode right into his apartment.

“Why didn’t you let the car pick you up?” Billy’s gaze moved around the Spartan yet cluttered living room.

“Uh, I didn’t see one?” Steve sassed before he admitted, “Or...it’s a street? Lots of cars.”

Billy’s attention landed on him like he didn’t quite believe it. Steve stood in a towel with dripping hair, for god sake. Billy’s eyes raked over him as if he were putting together some pieces of a puzzle that Steve didn’t understand. Or was mundane life so difficult if you could just drop $1100?

Billy took his hands from his pockets and started removing buttery leather gloves. “Do you have a roommate?”

Steve felt like another dagger was about to fall, but where, he couldn’t tell. He inhaled and sighed, “No.”

“Who is that woman to you?”

Steve’s brows reached for his hairline. “You mean my best friend?” he challenged.

Billy laughed. Derisive and amused and...impressed? Relieved?

He threw his coat, jacket, and gloves on the IKEA couch and those hands found Steve’s waist again. “Billy?” he managed before he had those lips again. Before Billy’s hand found the base of his skull and encouraged him to tilt for better access.

Then Billy let a moan seep into his sigh. Their lips parted audibly and he breathed, “No one talks to me like you do. About me. To me. You-mmh.”

He took Steve’s lips again like he craved. Steve shivered against his erection brushing against the fibers of his towel.

“Can I finish my shower?”

“No,” he purred darkly, arm locking behind Steve’s waist as the other pressed a rolling hand to Steve’s front.

He trembled through a broken shout, panting against Billy’s lips and jaw, gripping his silk shirt at the risk of scratching the threads. Billy licked over Steve’s lips, and Steve was dangerously close to cumming right there.

“Billy...” he whined. He warned.

Bright eyes gazed steadily at him through hooded, dark lashes. “Keep saying my name like that. I’ll give you everything.”

[peralta-guaranteed]

What abkut mafia!jake au

Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭

- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.

- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)

- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them

- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ‘recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling

- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.

- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.

- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.

- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)

- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.

- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.

- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”

- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would���ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.

- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.

- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.

- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.

- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.

- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.

- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.

- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.

- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”

- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.

- (it does not work)

- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.

- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.

[maddogofshimano]

The Woman Who Dyed a Black Stain to White

Major Y0 Spoiler Warning

Lee got a sugoroku event! Look at his chibi sprite!!! 

There’s several foreign names and groups mentioned in here that I don’t know the ideal romanization for, but I will try to at least be consistent on them.

This one is seriously heavy. I’m actually going to put a trigger warning on this: it’s about sex trafficked women, and Makoto’s backstory. There’s the start of an attempted sexual assault and a lot of dehumanizing language about the women who are being trafficked. Nothing is shown explicitly, but it’s rough. Additionally multiple people in the mafia commit suicide.

Summary: Lee is ordered to assassinate the boss of the Songyoung, a mysterious crime syndicate behind the disappearances of multiple women in Sotenbori. They operate in complete secrecy, and Lee finds himself facing a terrible choice between his orders and his morals.

<1986--two years before a man's corpse would be found in Kamurocho's empty lot--Iwao Bridge, Sotenbori>  Makoto: Excuse me, I'm looking for my brother. Have you seen the man in this picture?

Man: No, don't know him at all. Sorry... Makoto: Excuse me, have you seen the person in this picture?

Woman: I don't know him, sorry... Oda: That woman... she's not bad... I think I'll have a little talk with her...

Oda: Pardon me miss. You're looking for your brother? I've got an idea of where he might be...

Makoto: Really!? Please, take me there right away! Oda: Of course. If you wouldn't mind coming with me then...

<One Year Later--Sotenbori Hogushi Kaikan>

Voice on the TV: The case of the repeated disappearances of women in Sotenbori clearly seems to be--

Lee: Young women bein' targeted for abduction... Must be the Omi Alliance, or maybe some foreign group... Lee: The police are stayin' awful quiet on it though. Hard to feel good about all the movement that's happenin' around it... <phone rings> Lee: Ah, the phone... Lee: Hogushi Kaikan speaking. What treatment may I help you with? Voice on the phone: I have a job for you, Lee Wen Hai Lee: Well, sounds like ya aren't after a massage, are ya... Wong, who'd'ya need taken care of this time? Wong: That's cruel, Lee. Do you know the Korean mafia faction, the Songyoung? Lee: Aah, I've been hearin' some things about them. I was gettin' a real bad vibe off of that group... Wong: We haven't been able to pin them down effectively because they don't do anything themselves, they use hired thugs for all the dirty work... Wong: It sounds like they outsource their income streams. That's how they keep everything a secret. Lee: So you're tellin' me this for a reason... right? The Songyoung are my next target? Wong: Mhm, that's right. Wong: These days their thugs are rampaging all over our organization's territory... Wong: If they keep making waves like this, they're bound to bring the Omi down on our heads. Wong: The current pressure the Omi is putting on us is more than enough, and they'll only use this as an excuse to squeeze harder. Lee: Is the big bad mainland mafia's Kotou and the Omi that scared? (Tl note: this gets clarified way later, but Kotou (虎頭) is the Chinese mafia group Lee works for) Wong: Don't tease... Sotenbori is the Omi Alliance's most treasured territory... Wong: There's no advantage to putting the Omi in a bad mood or inflicting damage. But, how much do you even understand that? Wong: Anyways, the more the Songyoung keep rampaging, the more foreign organizations like our Kotou will suffer. Wong: Your assignment is to assassinate the boss of the Songyoung. I'm sure you know the usual payment from Kotou... Wong: For this one, it'll be double. Lee: Well ain't that generous... So what's the catch? Wong: Like I said, the Songyoung is a thoroughly secretive organization. Wong: Naturally, their bosses current whereabouts are unknown, as are the group's hideouts... Lee: So I gotta figure out where the guy even is... Wong: So? Will you take on the assignment? Lee: Well of course. I'll take it. You can transfer the payment to the usual account. Wong: Understood. When I get it, I'll fax you a picture of the boss of the Songyoung. Use it for verification. Wong: Well then, I'll leave you to it. Don't forget to keep in contact, okay? Lee: I'll remember... See ya later then? <Hangs up the phone> Lee: Well then, first things first is collectin' information on the Songyoung... <Prologue End> <A few days later--Shofuku Street, Sotenbori> Lee: After all this time pokin' around I still haven't gotten any info on the Songwong...

Lee: I thought Wong was just cuttin' corners, but even that pro I listened to didn't know shit... Lee: Information fees have gotten jacked up with the current economic boom, and it's hard to rely on anything they say... Lee: This place then. Today I'll pay it a visit... <Lee enters the mahjong parlor> Lee: Let's see, where is that guy... Oh, there he is....

Lee: Hey, been a while... how's things treatin' ya?

Information Broker: Well, if it isn't God Hand-sama himself... Broker: It'd been so long since I heard from ya that lately I'd been thinkin' about closin' up shop and pickin' up massage instead. Lee: Shut it, smartass! All you've been doin' lately is sittin' on your ass playin' mahjong... Lee: ...But, I'll let it slide. I'm here to get some info from ya. Lee: Tell me everythin' ya know about the Songyoung... Broker: ....And if that information isn't cheap? Lee: How much? Broker: Give me... 100k upfront, and we'll see how much it'll cost. Lee: Tch... Ya better watch yourself after this... Here, take your cash! <a wad of bills thumps onto the table> Broker: Of course. So, what do you want to know about the Songyoung? Lee: Their main hideout, and where their boss is at right now. For that information I'll pay as much as ya need. Broker: That's some real problematic info, ya know. These guys are hardcore on their secrecy... Lee: Seriously, I paid out the ass upfront already... So what, ya don't have that info? Broker: I do have a list of their lower rungs... Broker: If ya wanna find the main group, you'll have to squeeze it out of the branches... Lee: Sure, hand over that info then. Broker: You sure? It's gonna be another 100k. Lee: Jeez... Here. We good now? <another wad of bills hits the table> Broker: Thank you for your patronage... Alright, here's the list. Lee: ....This, you're sure there's not some sort of mistake? Broker: I absolutely guarantee it. Welllllll some of them might have cut ties with the main group already I suppose... Broker: The lower rungs are nothin' but nasty, muscle-headed imbeciles, though with your strength it won't be a problem... Lee: Heh.... I can't understand why this information is goin' for only 100k.

Broker: Ha... Findin’ a buyer for that kind of thing ain't easy. Broker: If you're makin' a move on these guys... Well, there's not gonna be a point to holdin' on to that information afterwards, right? Lee: ...That's pretty smart of ya. I'm off then, I'll be back later. Lee: Well, time to get goin' through this list with a fine toothed comb. <Lee goes to the park> Lee: Every one of these organizations is tied to the Songyoung somehow, but I just don't know what's connectin' them...

Lee: Do I really gotta go trompin' through this whole list and hope I stumble onto where the boss is at? Goon A: Hehe... Hey, let's go do some damage today!!

Goon B: It's great havin' the backin' of a big, influential group like that... Looks like our luck is finally turnin' around!! Lee: Well there's some assholes... I wonder what kinda info they might have... <Lee kicks the shit out of them. Like I don't even do the fight it just fades to black and Lee takes care of it himself> Goon A: Hhhh... Please forgive us.... The Songyoung already cut us off! So please don't kill us!!

Lee: Ya better not tell me you've cut ties again, okay? Just tell me all the info ya got on the Songyoung. Goon A: I-I really don't know anythin'! The contact we had, we never even saw their face. Lee: Seriously you guys... This is the tenth time. These Songyoung are damn serious about this secrecy crap, huh... Lee: These bastards don't have any information neither... Goon B: Th-That's true, but it is possible... Lee: What? Ya got an idea or somethin'? Goon B: There’s some guys that have turf near Iwao Bridge, they do way worse dealings than we do, I think... Lee: Worse dealings? Goon B: Yeah, they abduct young women that've just come to Sotenbori, and the Songyoung takes em for a shit ton of cash. Lee: Wait, wait, you mean... That's what's causin' the "vanishing women case" right now!?

Goon B: Yeah... That's right... It's all just rumors, but they go after runaway girls to kidnap... Lee: Then that means, this "disappearance case", it's all the Songyoung's doing... Lee: Now that's the kind of details I want to hear!! Goon B: Y-Yes sir!! Though, there is one other thing you should know... Goon B: In the past there was a real famous gang that was doin' this kind of job, but that gang left Sotenbori just when they were about to take over... Goon B: The organization that's currently makin' bank off of abducting women is called... Well, it's gotta be "Ganryujima". (Tl note: Ganryujima is the island famous for the duel between Miyamoto Musashi and Sasaki Kojiro. Also of note the first kanji in ganryujima is the same as the first kanji in Iwao Bridge) Goon B: That's the full extent of what I know... Lee: So near Iwao Bridge there's turf belonging to "Ganryujima"? That group's also on the list.... Seems like I got plenty to go on. Lee: In light of this info ya gave me, I'll let ya go. Hopefully this'll've been a learnin' experience for ya, and ya won't got gettin' involved with any more groups like that. Goons: Y-Yes sir!! Thank you very much!! Lee: Iwao Bridge is right up there.... I was gonna ask the Garyujima about the Songwong but... this feelin'...

Lee: This ain't just another punk, is it... someone else in the same profession? Lee: Hey, I know you're there. Come on out. If you're gonna tail someone, put a lil more effort in on stayin' hidden... Menacing Man: Are you the one who's been crushing all of our lower rungs? No hard feelings, but I'm going to kill you here...

Lee: As if I'd fall so far as to get killed by some third rate hitman who can't even hide himself properly... Lee: Though, ya did save me the trouble by showin' up. It was gonna be a pain in the ass to get the info I was after on your kinda organization. Lee: I'm just gonna beat every last drop of info about your group out of ya!! Menacing Man: Heh.... Come at me then!! You're going to regret messing with the Songyoung!! <the fight happens for real this time, fittingly Misery Comes On Beat plays and Lee clobbers them> Menacing Man: G-Guh........ Lee: Alright, you know what I want, ready to spill it on the Songyoung? Menacing Man: Heh.... You think I'm going to talk? Lee: Oh, so you've decided I gotta make you talk then... Menacing Man: The organization's secrets are absolute... Letting that kind of things slip, it's just not something I can do... <stabbing sounds> Lee: You! What the hell did you do!! Menacing Man: Guhh..... fool!? Lee: What idiots... All of them went and slit their own throats... Lee: All that to protect their organization's secrets... Finding their boss's location is gonna be a real pain in the ass.

<end part 1> Lee: You bastards are Ganryujima boys, ain't ya?

Goon: Who the hell are you? You got a problem if we're Ganryujima? Lee: Nope, my problem is with all the women you've been ordered to kidnap for the Songyoung. Goon: You... where the hell did ya hear that? Lee: Ya think I'm gonna say? Goon: Heh..... 's all good. If ya knew any better, ya would have gone home to keep on livin'... Goon: Oi, everyone!! Let's end this geezer!! Lee: Sure are a lotta hotblooded assholes... Ah well. I'll just have to convince ya to talk. <once again, Lee crushes them without me even doing the fight> Goon: Haa... Haa... Wh-What the hell's with this old man...

Lee: From now on, be selective when you pick fights. If you pick the wrong opponent on this street, are you ready to lose your life? <metallic noise of something being drawn, presumably a knife or the acupuncture needle, it's unclear> Goon: A-Aahh!? P-Please don't kill me!! Lee: Are ya ready to tell me about the Songyoung then? What's the guy look like that you're handin' these girls over to? Goon: Sorry... we just leave the women we kidnapped in a pre-designated abandoned house on a regular basis, I never seen anyone... Goon: The money just gets wired into our account... I really don't know the guy's face at all... Lee: ....Tch, you fuckers are another dead end. Goon: I-I'm sorry I'm so worthless!! But please, my life... Lee: Fine, whatever.... Actually, one thing! Goon: Wh-What!? Lee: In exchange for me lookin' the other way on this, I'm givin' ya a job to do. Goon: A-A job... What'd'ya want us to do? Lee: It's easy. I'm gonna bring ya a girl, and you're gonna sell her to those guys... can ya do that? (Tl note: misread this at first as "I'm gonna be the next girl ya sell to those guys" and was pogging) Goon: Y-Yeah. I think we should be able to do that... Lee: Good, then I'll be back when I've finished some preparations. <Lee goes to a bar to speak with an anime girl because there is exactly one base sprite for all women> Lee: Yo, it's been a while. You haven't changed a day...

Lee: Makes sense, given nobody knows the number of guys you've swindled out of their cash then bumped off... Woman: .....You know, Lee. Isn't it a bit cruel to call someone out to meet you and then speak about them like that? Lee: Sorry, sorry, I thought I was payin' a compliment to your heinous modus operandi, it's very skillful.

Woman: Sigh~... so what is it? Why'd you call me over so suddenly? I came because I owe you one, but I'm not here on a leisure trip. Lee: I was hopin' to get us squared away. Think ya can handle one bothersome task for me? Woman: Bothersome? Lee: Yeah, I'm trying to get a hold of information on this organization... Stuff like where there hideout is, but since no one's talkin' I'd like to borrow your power. Woman: ....And what do you want me to do? Lee: I want ya to pose as a runaway and sneak into this place as one of the girls gettin' traffic'd. Lee: I've gotten a hold of the sales route they're usin'... Lee: You'll get bought wearin' a tracking device and a hidden mic, and that'll let us infiltrate the hideout. Woman: This is going to be dangerous, isn't it? I know I owe you, but is that enough to risk my life over? Lee: When you're a professional killer, isn't there always a risk of death, that someone will turn the tables on ya? Well, as soon as I know where the place is I'll go and help ya. I'll protect this body you've altered... What d'ya think, will ya help? Woman: ....Ha, I guess so. After this, we're even, right? Lee: Yeah, of course. Honestly I'll feel indebted to ya! <Lee goes back outside> Lee: Right now, you're in the abandoned building in West Shokufukucho. Great, the transmitter just moved into the kitchen...

<radio static> Lee: I can hear her voice through the bug. Sensitivity is good... Lee: Now then... After that woman gets taken to the main hideout, everything will go flawlessly. <footsteps> Voice over the mic: "This is the collection team. The cargo of women has been confirmed. We'll be returning to HQ shortly, via our transport." Lee: They're speakin' korean... "Recover the woman and take her to headquarters".... huh.... Lee: Seems like it's going well. I hope it keeps up.... Voice: "Be careful not to be seen on the way back! Hurry up and return to HQ!!" Lee: They're not aware of the bug or the tracking device... <Lee gets into a car> Lee: And now I just follow em right to their hideout. <He gets out after a drive> Lee: Looks like the transmitter stopped in this building...

<radio static> Voice: "The shipment of women has arrived. Where's the boss at?" Voice: "Right now the boss is inspecting the warehouse..." Voice: "Aah, that place is crammed full of women isn't it... So, will you deliver this woman there too?" Voice: "Nah, no need to do extra work. We'll just put her in the usual room until the boss gets back..." Voice: "Roger on that!" <radio static> Lee: So this is the main hideout then. However, the boss ain't here... Lee: Ah well, I'm bound to hear where he is sooner or later. ...Ah, afterwards though, I did promise to help that woman out. <Lee kicks in the door> Songyoung goon: "Wh-What are you doing!?"

Lee: "My bad, but I was hoping to retrieve a woman I left here?"

Goon: "W-Woman!? Who do you think you are!? Do you have a death wish!?" Lee: "How about you tell me the location of the warehouse you've got the other women in?" Goon: "Wh-What!? Did you plant a bug on that woman!? Shit!! Everyone! Don't let this man leave here alive!!" Goon: "For the sake of protecting our organization, this man must die!! Kill him and sink his body in the harbor!! Let's go!!" <Lee crushes them and two of the three hit the floor> Goon: "That man... so strong..." Lee: "Well, the place where you've got all those women locked up, ya better tell me where it is.." Goon: "Heh... you really think it's going to be that simple?" <gunshots> Lee: Shit... Shot himself right in the head... Lee: The other two drank poison to kill themselves too. What a commitment to secrecy... It's sickening.... Lee: And even still, I just gotta investigate this place and I'll figure out where that warehouse is. Whoops, gotta help that woman first... <back outside> Woman: Seriously... I'm sorry for this again, alright? (Tl note: extremely in the weeds here, I don't really know what she's talking about)

Lee: Heh.... Searching the house would have been rotten without your help. Woman: I'll send a bill for that information later! Lee: And I'll send ya a whole mountain of gold as payment! Woman: Haa~... That's what I like to hear.... Well then, don't you go and die until you pay me, okay? <She leaves> Lee: Hmm, I need to keep in contact with Wong.... Was there a payphone around here? <He goes to a payphone and dials Wong>

Wong: ...Lee? Lee: Yep, just keepin' in touch. I found the group's hideout. Wong: Oh, good work... Several of their members are dead there. They won't be able to use it. Wong: So? Have you brought down their boss? Lee: No. He wasn't at the hideout... Lee: But, I do know where he is. The warehouse with all the imprisoned women. Wong: Heh... Going to sample the wares? Always was a nympho... Wong: Regardless you've done well. You should head over to the warehouse right away.... Lee: ....? Got it. Once I deal with the boss, is it okay if I release the women? Wong: No, all the captive women should be erased. It would be problematic if this income stream got leaked to the police. Lee: What....!? <end of part 2>

Lee: I'm not gonna kill kidnapped women who have done nothin' wrong! Don't be ridiculous!! Lee: Is that the kind of orders the top mafia Kotou is handin' out!? Wong: Calm down, Lee. This was a decision by the organization. Lee: These women were kidnapped by punks with more lust for gold than humanity and are getting preyed upon by the main branch with their wicked intentions. Lee: And after all that shit, I ain't gonna just go in and kill them!! Wong: If the police find out about this source of income from the Songyoung, the crackdown in Sotenbori is going to be very strict... Wong: If that happens, it will be harder for us to operate in a lot of ways... So these women continuing to exist is problematic. Wong: You do understand what will happen if you go against direct orders from the group, don't you? Lee: (Have they really made up their mind on killing these women? Even though these women, they haven't done anything wrong, they're the victims?) Lee: (But if I go against orders, I'll be the one killed... Either the lives of those women, or my own, I have to choose.) Wong: There's high expectations on you for completing this job. Are you going to betray everyone? Lee: (If I try to run, I won't be able to catch the boss. If I want to bring him down... There's no time to hesitate...) Lee: (That's how I have to think. I'm a pro. An assassin. And... up till now, I've devoted myself fully to this path, just as expected.) Lee: ...I understand. I'll take the lives of those women. That is part of my job... Wong: Is that so... Well then, I'll be waiting to hear good news. <hangs up phone and goes back to the Songyoung hideout> Lee: Shit.... That asshole, handin' out such a sickening order. Lee: Fine!! I'll sink the corpse of that boss, all those women, and anyone else into the damn harbor!! Lee: I'm already black hearted, and this time I'll be stained as black as can be... Lee: With this blood on my hands, I'll just get em even dirtier with more and more. <Lee goes to the warehouse> Lee: This is where the main branch's hideout said the warehouse should be, so the boss and the kidnapped women should be inside...

Lee: (Looks like they got two guys keepin' watch... The entrance to this place is well defended... It's gonna be tough takin' out the boss and those women by myself...)

<stabbing noises>

Goon A: Gah!? Goon B: Guhh!? <they hit the floor> Lee: ...There's probably more guys keepin' watch. I'll have to be careful killin' the boss and women... <Lee moves into the warehouse> Lee: Since there's a guard over there, there's no mistake that this is the main group's warehouse...

Lee: The real question is, where is the boss... Hm? That's... <A man walks by with a woman> Lee: Just now, that guy that brought a woman into that room... There's no doubt about it, that's the guy from the photo Wong sent... Lee: When I go into that room... Lee: I'll lose my chance to run. I'll commit myself to seein' this job through and stainin' myself pitch black. <Lee heads in> Young Woman: Stop it... d-don't come any closer... someone!!

Songyoung Boss: Heh, no matter how much you scream, no one is coming to help you... Lee: Mind if I step in and have some fun?

Boss: Who the fuck are you!? ...Are you an assassin sent by Wong?

Boss: He never gets his own hands dirty with jobs like this... Lee: You figured it out quick. No hard feelings, but I'm going to kill you now. (Tl note: same line that the Songyoung assassin used against Lee) Boss: You're a moron. I'm not going to be killed by some wannabe assassin. I'll kill you first!! Boss: Let's go, assassin!! I'm going to send your stinking corpse to Wong!! <fight, Lee wrecks shop> Lee: Say your prayers... <Stabbing noise> Boss: Guah!? <he hits the floor> Lee: That handles my primary goal... Now I have to... Lee: (Now I have to deal with the women... First I should have her guide me to where they're all being imprisoned...) Lee: Were you bein’ held captive in here?

Woman: Yes!! Please, please help!! There's a lot of others that are being held captive here besides me!! Lee: ...Got it. Could ya bring me to the room they're all in? Woman: Yes! This way!! <they go> Woman: Just ahead is the room we were all held in! We had given up all hope on being rescued, everyone will be so happy!!

Lee: Sorry for the trouble, Miss Guide... Lee: (She looks delighted... Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be killin' someone lookin' like that...) Lee: (... If my daughter were still alive, she'd be just about the same age as this woman.....) Lee: (This blameless woman that I'm going to sink into the sea... This really is the most depraved job...) Lee: (It would be troublesome if she started screamin' here... Guess I'll take care of her after I handle all the other women...) Lee: ...Ah, that's right! I got a request for ya, miss... Woman: Yes! What do you need? Lee: There's still a lot of thugs around outside... Could ya make sure no one leaves till I confirm it's safe? Lee: Would ya go and close off the entrance and the exit to the warehouse? Woman: Y-Yeah! On it!! <she leaves> Lee: Miss, forgive me... I ain't really here to save ya... <Lee goes into the inner room> Woman A: A-Again... Who's coming in here now?

Woman B: That's not it! The door is still open!! Woman B: R-Run for it! We're finally free from this nightmare!! <the women flee> Lee: (With the door open like that... It's natural that they'd all run off in a panic...) Lee: (All these run away girls, now about to get killed, they really are the unluckiest women in the world.......) Lee: (But if I don't kill them, the organization's gonna kill me... This really is the most abysmal job...) Lee: (I can't save even a single one of them... It's a weight I'll have to bear for the rest of my life, no matter what excuses I try to make.) <knife drawing sound> Lee: Hm? That woman, what is she... Lee: ...Why didn't she run? That's weird... Is she hurt?

Lee: Hey, are you alright....?

Lee: (She's feelin' her way around... This girl, is she blind?) Makoto: A-Are you the one who's helping everyone? Lee: N-No... I'm... <music cuts out> Makoto: Thank you so much... Thank you..... Thank you so very much... thank you....

Lee's daughter: "Hey, dad... are you there...?"

Lee: "Yes, I'm right here!! I'm here!! You're gonna be okay, the doctor's on his way!! Just stay with me!!" Lee's daughter: "....Dad, even with this frail life of mine... thank you so much for raising me..." Lee: "Nonsense! Sayin' stuff like that, raisin' you was only natural!!" Lee's daughter: "Thank you for everything, dad... I love you..." Lee: (Ah... She also, said the same thing......)

Lee: (......) Lee: (No way.... There's no way... I could kill her......)

<end of part 3>

Lee: (For the time bein' that girl's gone to sleep in that room. Everythin' is still chaotic though...) (Tl note: the word Lee is using for girl here is 娘 which is the same one used for daughter) Lee: (Helpin' that girl means disobeyin' Wong's--no, Kotou's orders...) Lee: (If I'm already goin' against my orders... I might as well save every woman in this damn place!!) Lee: (But what am I gonna do? If I don't kill the women, then Wong's just gonna send another hitman after 'em.) Lee: (If I want these women to live, my only options are gettin' Wong to let them go, or if Kotou was totally annihilated.) Lee: Damn it... There's no way Wong would look the other way on this, so my only option is to wipe out Kotou myself... Lee: Of course, I gotta figure out how to even do that... Lee: I'm gamblin' on a long shot. At least I'm gonna save as many women as I possibly can!! Lee: Alright, then I need to get the women out of here before Wong catches onto what I'm up to... Woman: Kyaaaaaa!! Lee: What!? That voice, did someone get into the warehouse!? <two women are facing a menacing man> Man: ...So you women didn't get killed? I see, I see...

Woman: W-Who are you!? Oh no, are you one of the people that locked us all up in here!? Man: No, I'm not a part of the group that did that. (Tl note: He's speaking very politely, it's kind of unsettling) Man: That being said, I do have a job to do here, so... No hard feelings, but I'm going to kill you now. (Tl note: the third instance of this line, I guess hitmen are very fond of it) Woman 2: You're going to... Why would you kill us!! Man: It's nothing you've done personally... however there are people who would be very inconvenienced if your confinement was ever known about... Man: Well then, let's start off with you... If you're going to hold a grudge, please hold it against your own bad luck... Woman 2: W-Wait... don't kill me.... Lee: Hold it, jack ass!! Lee: Ladies... stay back...

Women: S-Sure... Man: Hmmm... you're the one Wong sent to kill the Songwong boss, aren't you? Lee: What about it? I already took care of that boss a while ago now... Man: Is that so... Thank you for a job well done. ....Though, I have to ask, why are these women still alive? Man: Surely you were ordered to eliminate the women as well? Woman 2: Eh!? Lee: All these women did nothin' wrong... killin' them is completely unnecessary. Man: So you intend to turn against Wong? Lee: .....Yeah, I do. Man: Ah ha ha! I see, I see... You know, Wong-san seemed worried this was the path you'd take. Lee: ...Who are you? Man: I'm the contingency plan Wong-san prepared to handle this if you couldn't bring yourself to kill these women. Man: My orders from Wong-san were to come here and kill any woman left alive. Lee: Hah... Awful conniving of Wong to pull somethin' like this... Too bad that I decided that all these women are gonna live!!

Man: So that's how it is... what a shame. Well, you've made your decision to die here with these women. Man: But that's good! A killer like you will die alongside all these young ladies!! <they fight, Lee tears him up> Man: I'm finished... You're a skilled hitman... Lee: Your arm can probably be saved... Man: But... Wong-san will never forgive you for going against the organization like this... You'll be killed, won't you? Lee: Seems that way... But I'm gonna fight it all the way to the end... Man: I see... In that case, I wish you good luck... <man collapses to the floor> Lee: Hoooo~.... I need to make sure all the ladies are still alright... Lee: I'm gonna wipe all traces of you being enslaved from the records here and in the Songwong hideout... Lee: That should throw em off all your trails... Woman 2: Eh? D-Does that mean... you're helping all of us? Lee: Yeah, that's right... Lee: It'll be best if all of you forget about everythin' that happened here and go back to your old lives... Lee: After that leave everythin' else to this geezer!! Woman 2: Th-Thank you so much!! Woman 1: But, are you going to be alright? That person said that you would be killed too... Lee: The fate of a killer who goes against his organization is set in stone. But, I don't intend to be easy to kill... Lee: If it means savin' all of you, payin' with the life of a killer like me is a hell of a bargain, right?  Woman 1: But that's... isn't there something you can do? You could run away with us... Lee: I've got to go smash up my employer... I got a lotta obligations in front of me... Lee: If I run away, other people are gonna end up payin' for it. Woman 1: But... Lee: It's fine... Don't you go worryin' about me none. Lee: Though, sorry to keep askin' things of ya miss, but could I ask one more favor of ya? Woman 1: What is it? I'll do whatever I can!! Lee: In the room ya were locked up in, there's a lady that can't see waitin' there... Lee: As much as ya can, could ya take care of that kid and keep her out of trouble? Woman 1: I-I should be okay... I'll do as much as I'm able-- Lee: Yeah!! Seriously, I'm grateful! Lee: I know it's a lot to ask of ya miss, sorry. Woman 1: No, this doesn't even begin to pay back how much you've helped us... Lee: Alright, you stay healthy miss... <Lee leaves> Woman 1: Ah!? That's right, there's a mafia called "Kotou", please stay safe from them!! Lee: W-Wait a minute!! Miss, what did you say just now!? Woman 1: Umm... To please watch out for a mafia called "Kotou"... Lee: You said "Kotou"... miss, where did you hear that name!? (Tl note: I had been reading it wildly wrong as “Toragashira” until now and had to go back and correct every instance of it. When she says it it’s in katakana, but Lee had been saying it in kanji, so I was just guessing on pronunciation) Woman 1: Earlier, while we were still imprisoned, I heard it from one of the people here... Woman 1: "My group "Kotou" is a Chinese mafia. You can rely on us for backup if you encounter any trouble" is what they said... Lee: H-Hold on... But wouldn't that mean... Kotou and the Songyoung are workin' together...!? Lee: What the hell, what the hell is goin' on....!?

<end part 4>

Lee: You're sure they said "Kotou"?

Woman 1: Y-Yeah... That's definitely what they said. Lee: Seriously.... hm? Wait... Thinkin' back on it... Wong did say somethin' strange... Lee: (Back when I first found out the boss was in the warehouse....) Lee: ("Heh... Planning on sampling the wares? ...Always was a nympo...") (Tl note: I had to go back and edit the earlier instance of this to be more vague like this, I confused on who it was directed at but I was looking at it as between Lee or Wong and couldn't see how it would make sense to be self directed since Wong wasn't going to the warehouse. Lee seemed confused by it too, so the vagueness seems intentional, but I’m very glad it wasn’t actually directed at Lee like I initially thought) Lee: (It's like he knew the Songyoung Boss before this...) Lee: If that's true, then that means the same goes for the Songyoung boss! Lee: (In that room where I took him out, he said to me "He never gets his own hands dirty with jobs like this")  Lee: (So that means he also knew Wong before all of this...) Lee: It's possible... but what does it all mean? Woman 1: ...Um, is there something I can help with? Lee: Aah! Thank to you miss, I might have figured out a way to avoid dyin'. Woman 1: Really!? Lee: I do have one job to take care of first though. Lee: When ya get out of here and forget all this to get back to your life... I want ya to forget me too... okay? Lee: Oh, and avoid dealin with strange men, okay? Woman 1: Yes sir! Thank you again!! <she leaves> Lee: If I believe her story, then the Songyoung and Wong are connected... Lee: If that's the case, there might be evidence of that here and in the Songyoung hideout... Lee: If I can find it, I might be able to use that to keep Wong silent on this whole thing. Lee: First things first, better start searchin' the warehouse... Lee: Haa~...... I can't find anythin'.... Well, findin' somethin' like that was never going to be easy. Lee: Next is the room where all the women were confined...

<rustling noise> Lee: Hm? Hold on... this is it!! <screen fades to black> Wong: Lee... You just keep betraying my faith in you...

Lee: Ha, you're soundin' awful full of yourself... Wong. Lee: You'd probably tell me I was wipin' my own ass wrong... Lee: Aren't you betrayin' our organization too? I don't think you're in any position to talk about my betrayal. Wong: Lee, you piece of shit...... Lee: Heh... Of course, since you and the Songyoung are in bed together... Lee: Didn’t you let them make money trafficking these women so you could have a little slush fund? Lee: It's all written in this set of orders ya fax'd em anyways... Wong: Are you an idiot!? Get rid of that like you were ordered to!!

Lee: You stopped trustin' the Songyoung boss, right? Lee: Nothin' will poison a relationship faster than cash, it's a common story in this line of work. Lee: Seems like for the most part the Songyoung hated the tight leash you had them on and decided to betray you and be more bold about things, yeah? Lee: Then, when the disappearance of women started to become public knowledge, it lit a fire under your ass to hurry up and stamp out this whole operation... Wong: ........... Lee: That's why ya sent me to find the Songyoung hideout that had moved and you had lost contact with... Lee: With myself on the job, it'd be easy for ya to nonchalantly show up and snag the evidence of your betrayal... Lee: And if I failed you had prepared a contingency to get the job done... then ya'd be able to muzzle the aforementioned organization. Have I got that right? Wong: ........... Lee: Hah... Seems like that's a bulls-eye... Lee: If ya don't want this fax bein' sent off to Kotou, I got a condition for ya to accept... Well, Wong? Wong: ....Heh, pffhahaha... you really are a dumb fuck... Lee: What!? The hell's so funny!! Wong: If you had turned over that evidence right away, you might have been fine... Wong: But you're hopelessly stupid if you think you can negotiate with me face to face and I won't just kill you here and now. Wong: If I erase you and the evidence right here, I won't get caught for my betrayal!! Lee: Hmm... So you... are turnin' down my condition? Wong: Of course I am!! I'm going to kill you!! That's why I brought my best men with me!! Wong: Lee, my blood ran cold when you told me you had found evidence of my betrayal... Wong: So I must thank you for being such a dumbass!! Wong: Rest assured, Lee! After I'm done killing you, all those women you saved will be killed too!! Wong: Go to hell alongside the women you risked your life to protect!! Let's do it!! Your certain death!! <they fight, Lee crushes them> Wong: Stupid... even my best men...?

Lee: Heh, bad luck for you Wong. I've been survived more lethal battles than you can count... Lee: Well, that's all been with your help...

Lee: So, are ya ready? This is the endin' you asked for..... Lee: .........You know, it didn't have to end like this if you had just put up with my one demand. Wong: W-Wait!! I'll do it!! Your life, those women's lives, I'll look past it all!! So please... Lee: ....What you're sayin', you really mean it? Wong: Yes! Of course!! I'll talk to the organization myself about the women...

Lee: ......I've owed ya a lot. So if ya say that--

Wong: You truly are the stupidest mother fucker on earth!! <gun cocks>

Lee: Guh! Wong, you bastard!? <Stabbing sound> Wong: Guah--... Leeee.... you.... fucker!!

Lee: Idiot... Why'd ya make me do that, Wong.... <Some days later, Kotou confirmed that Wong has gone rogue.> <Lee's killing of Wong was considered a "purge" and his actions were left unquestioned.>

<end of part 5>

<A few weeks later> <Sotenbori's Hogushi Kaikan> Customer: Ah, just what I'd expect from the chief! Everything feels great!!

Lee: Hey, Makoto! Could ya grab my needles for me? Makoto: Eh? N-Needles...? Those are, ummm.... S-Sorry, I don't know... Lee: Ah, that's my bad, don't worry. Here, I'll show ya... Makoto: S-Sorry, chief.....

Lee: ....Wanna grab my hand? Makoto: Y-Yeah.... Lee: The needles we use for acupuncture are... right here. For you that'll be about 5 steps past the entrance to the treatment room. Makoto: Got it... S-Sorry... Lee: Hey, I already said it was my bad, don't worry... Lee: Some day you're gonna be able to see again. Until then, it's perfectly fine to get used to things slowly. Lee: We'll start at a slow pace for you... Then when you can do that, we can step it up. Makoto: Yes sir. Customer: The chief sure has changed since Makoto-chan showed up, huh? It seems like he's really happy now... Lee: Sh-Shut it, smart ass!! You say more dumb shit like that and I'll run your tongue through with my needle!! Customer: A-Ahhh!? Please forgive me!!

Customer: Nonetheless... Makoto-chan's been here for a few weeks now. Customer: I was really surprised at first! How'd a cute girl like Makoto end up as your apprentice... Customer: I thought the chief had gone and kidnapped you. Lee: Hey! Don't go startin' nasty rumors like that!! Lee: Geez... You know, I think I won't do the acupuncture! You're not stiff enough to need any hot oil neither... Lee: But it's fiiine, you can scram!! Ain't like you'd appreciate the pain of this needle anyhow... Customer: Ahaha... well then, I better get out of here before the chief starts stabbing. Customer: See ya, Makoto-chan. Be safe... and I hope your vision comes back quickly. Makoto: ...Y-Yeah....... Customer: See ya chief, till next time! <he leaves> Makoto: Lee-san, I'm sorry.... I don't know how to do anything... even though you've allowed me to be your live-in apprentice...... Lee: It's all good, Makoto. Don't fret. As long as ya don't panic and take things slowly you'll have no trouble doin' all sorts of stuff... Makoto: .........Yeah. Lee: Makoto, I'm gonna smoke for a minute out back..... Makoto: Ah, sure... Have a good day, Lee-san. <he leaves> Lee: "Have a good day" huh.... 

Lee: That look she gave me... I'm going to protect that to the bitter end.... Lee: To protect that girl... I'd do anything... Anything at all....

<epilogue end> Bonus time: first of all OOFA DOOFA this was huge! and intense! and very difficult to translate god damn all this politicking and kansai-ben. In good(?) news, I learned a bunch of fun new vocab like abduction, kidnapping, human trafficking, betrayal, etc. You know, the essential stuff. Also it’s extremely unclear if the femme fatale that Lee leveraged here is the same one he plans to kill to fake Makoto’s death in Y0, or if he just knows multiple women that swindle money out of men and kill them. Here’s an actual bonus: Lee’s thoughts on things from the board game! Let’s see if tumblr explodes from all these images or not.

Sotenbori Our city. It's got good and bad and everythin' else all mixed together. Of course, that's why they call it the city that can't be satisfied.

Acupuncture Needle The acupuncture needle I use. Custom made, but ordinary needles. By using this, it'll start feeling good instantly.

Smokes  An item vital to any acupuncturist. If you gently take a drag, the customer's meridians will appear on their back. Don't believe me?

Iwao Bridge A lot of young guys here trying to be pick up artists. A little while ago, one of my customers was an idiot who had jumped into the river after the local baseball team won the championship

Cabaret Grand This place has become the topic of conversation lately. I don't really go to those kinds of places, but, well, I kind of want to head over and take a peek

The Man with the Bat Tattoo I don't have any connection to him, I don't even know his face or his name, but if I ever meet him... I'm really going to enjoy it

Hogushi Kaikan My massage shop in Sotenbori. All ages of men and women, mafia and civilians, come here to get their muscles relaxed. (Tl note: Hogushi means to relax/loosen)

Rumor of Shakedown A shakedown? That ain't gonna happen. Still, some idiot wanting to try to shake me down is just the kind of thing that happens in Sotenbori

Mahjong Parlor I go to the mahjong parlor often. There's a lot of chinese people there. Though, japanese people go there too sometimes. Either way, by the time I go home I'm flat broke.

One Eyed Fella I've started seein' this guy around Sotenbori recently. I got no clue as to why he's here, but he's got the eye of a beaten stray dog.

I didn’t intentionally leave the Majima one for last, his was just the last one I found! I didn’t think there’d even be one, since this takes place a year before they even met, but I’m really glad there is. Now he’s just a fun bonus for anyone who made it all the way to the end. I kind of hoped the assassin that Lee sensed right in front of the Grand was just going to be Majima walking by or something.

Lee’s also got a character story that I’ll translate once I get his bond up, so look forward to even more Lee content!

[holylulusworld]

One loose end

Summary: Dean ends things when he gets to know the truth about you. He didn’t realize he lost more than the omega he loves.

Pairing: Mobster! (Alpha)Dean x Ex-cop!(Omega)Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Jack Kline, Charlie Bradbury

Warnings: angst, language, abandonment, Dean being a douche, mafia business, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, suffering omega, loneliness, unplanned pregnancy, threats, nesting

Dean leans back in his chair, legs spread he lets his eyes travel down your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Forgotten are your strength or past when you face your alpha, the man holding your heart and body in a tight grip.

“Do you know why I summoned you here,” he’s using his alpha voice and you wonder why your fiancé looks angrily up at you. His green eyes darker than usual he licks his lips. “Answer me, omega.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” he growls, even grits his teeth as you did not address him with his presentation, and you wonder what rubbed Dean wrong. Usually, he’s all soft around you. Most of the time he only lets the alpha out to protect you or scare other alphas off. “Benny said I shall come to your office, so here I am alpha,” you add his presentation to calm the angry mobster. He’s not in a good mood so you try to walk on eggshells and make him feel better.

“You see,” he gets up, scraping the chair over the floor, making you flinch when he suddenly stands in front of you to roughly grab your chin with his hand. Dean forces you to me his eyes and you know – something is wrong with your alpha. “I heard not so nice things about you…”

“Boss,” Benny tries to intervene but Amara holds him back, watching the alpha, her boss with angry eyes.

“Not so nice things,” you huff, patting the hand which tightens the grip on your chin. “Whatever you heard, just tell me about it. I know we came a long way, okay. Not everyone liked that I’m an ex-cop. In your kind of business, I’m the enemy. But that’s in the past…”

“Is it?” Dean furrows his brows, still not letting go of your chin. “I heard differently last week. You know, I didn’t want to believe the rumors or the pictures. I even refused to watch the footage someone sent to me but the fact that you met up with Ellen Harvelle not three hours ago proved me wrong…”

“Ellen?” you blink a few times. “Yes, I met up with her, Dean. I told you so this morning. As usual, you didn’t listen but Sam was there too. Ask your brother,” you slowly get angry. People might think you are an obedient omega, always following Dean’s order but truth to be told, you’re a stubborn bitch when someone crosses a line.

“You met up with a goddamn cop,” Dean grasps for your phone, slipping it into his pocket. “I should’ve known better. Ex-cop, investigating my family and our business is in the past my ass,” your hands start to twitch when Dean pants into your face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean. Ellen retired around fifteen years ago. Right after her husband got killed. It was his partner; a corrupt cop and she just couldn’t trust anyone at her department any longer. My father was a good friend of Bill and Ellen. She’s my godmother for fuck’s sake.”

“A good cover, I must admit,” Dean’s nostrils flare and you know, he’s not making a bad joke. Dean Winchester, the head of the Winchester empire is threatening you, his omega. “Did they pay you well for being undercover for that long, for spreading your legs for me?” Your hand hits Dean’s face before your brain can stop you.

“I told you about my job, Dean. It was me coming to you, telling you about my assignment. I quit my job, gave up my friends who were all cops. The only person left in my left is Ellen, I told you so before we became a thing. You knew about her past too. She’s the only family I got left,” tears well up to your eyes but you blink them away.

The vulnerable omega whines in despair but the independent woman shields her from any harsh word leaving Dean’s lips. “If not for your connection to that woman, you would be dead by now.” You gasp, stepping backward. For a moment you just look at Dean, at the alpha you believed would claim you after your wedding but now you realize, he never intended on doing so.

“It was a trick,” you slide the engagement ring down your finger, carelessly dropping it to the floor. “You tricked me. When I came to you, telling you after that drunken one-night stand who I am you took the opportunity to snake your way into my life.” Laughing bitterly, you close your eyes, calming your nerves for a moment.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Dean grunts, not missing the tremble in your voice or the way your lips quiver.

“Newsflash, Winchester,” your eyes are cold when you open them again. “I’m not undercover. I don’t have any connections to cops or feds. All I got is a retired godmother who hates her former job,” you shake your head, not believing you were foolish enough to believe you found your alpha. 

“I want you gone, now. I’ll drop your shit at any place but go before I change my mind and kill you,” the gun in Dean’s hands leaves no room for arguments so you turn your back on him, forget the good news and happiness.

“I hate you, Dean. For once I believed someone didn’t try to use me to his advantage. Sadly, I was wrong all over again. If I ever see you again, you’ll regret it,” you leave the room, flee toward the exit almost bumping into Sam.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Sam gasps seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “What happened? Wait…wait up…”

“Ask your asshole of a brother. Keep that piece of shit away from me or he’s dead…” you spat, pushing the omega you let out only for Dean back into the pit of your existence.

“Two months and you found a whole lot of nothing, Dean,” Sam leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Jesus, Y/N didn’t lie. Ellen Harvelle retired fifteen years ago, got a bar called ‘the roadhouse’ and doesn’t give any cop a discount,” Benny sighs, looking at Charlie who shrugs.

“Boss, I didn’t find any trace. No bugs, manipulated e-mails, calls to unknown numbers. I got nothing either,” Charlie clears her throat, shoving a manila folder toward Dean. “Ellen Harvelle is clean, just like her daughter. Y/N didn’t contact anyone but you, Ellen, your brother, and her doctor.”

“Doctor,” cocking a brow Dean looks at the folder. “Maybe that doctor is a cop?” Sam scoffs, pushing off the wall. He looks at his brother shaking his head before he turns to leave the room. 

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Sam throws his hands up in surrender. “You chased the only girl who never cared about your reputation or money away. Your omega, Dean! How could you be that stupid?”

“She’s a traitor! I just know it,” Dean yells now, not giving in. “It must be or else I would’ve…”

“Yeah, lost the only woman you ever loved. You and your hasty decisions, Dean. I wonder if she would ever take your stubborn ass back,” Sam slams the door shut behind him, not caring his brother will be mad at him.

“Five and a half month later,

Most of the days are good days. Well, not good, but you get through them without crying or your instinct telling you to crawl back to Dean.

Today is not such a day. Today you stand in the middle of a shop for synthetic scents. “How can I help you, ma’am,” a young boy asks, and you wonder if he’s old enough to work at such a place. “I know I look young, but I know my job. I’m Jack Kline and would like to help you.”

“I need a scent,” you swallow the lump in your throat, slowly opening your coat. “My alpha, he left me. I’m an abandoned omega, a pregnant one. The first months I could get by without his scent, but it gets worse.”

“We will need a blood sample of you. This way we can find a matching scent to make you feel more comfortable, ma’am,” the young man smiles, pointing toward a chair. “It won’t hurt, promised. You are not the only one coming here. Even strong and tall alphas come her to get a scent.”

“I’m not ashamed, just…,” you shrug, not knowing how to describe the loneliness or how it feels to know your child will never get to know his father. Even worse, that you were simply a pawn in Dean Winchester’s masterplan. “Just tell me what I must do.”

“Hello, I’m looking for a specific scented candle,” an alpha calls for Jack. “My mate, she’s so in love with that scent…” Sam stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Jack who wants to push a needle into your arm. “Whoa, hands-off, bastard.”

Sam aims a gun at Jack’s head, unlocking it. “Get away from Y/N or you are dead before you can hurt her. How can you be that stupid to attack Dean Winchester’s mate in the middle of a store?”

“Sam,” you scream, jumping up to shield the boy with your body. “He wanted to take a blood sample, not kill me. Are you crazy?” you pant, resting one hand onto your belly. 

“Y/N?” Sam’s eyes drop to your baby bump and his features soften. “You’re expecting. Oh-fuck, no. Does Dean know?”

“Why should the great and all-knowing Dean Winchester be interested in getting to know he got me pregnant with his child before he threatened to kill me. Let me tell you this, Sam Winchester,” you get your favorite knife out of your garter, pressing the tip into Sam’s chest. “If you tell him you saw me or the pup in my belly, you are dead. Now leave me alone. I need this scent…”

“You’re suffering, Y/N,” ignoring Sam’s words and his worried look you turn your attention back toward Jack. “Let me help you.”

“There is nothing you can do, Sam. It’s done. Whatever Dean and I had, is dead and gone since he threatened to kill me. I should’ve known he used me. No alpha wants to wait until the wedding to claim his mate,” you wave your hand, sending Sam off. “I’m only a loose end to your brother. If you excuse me now…”

“Not that bad,” you sniff at the pillow before you add more of the synthetic scent onto the clothes on your nest. “It’s not your fathers but it’ll do,” you rub your belly, watching one of your dog’s lie next to the bed. “Good boy, always so protective, Morning.”

Your German shepherd whines, before slowly getting up to trot toward the door. “Star,” you call for your dog when Morning dashes out of the room to attack whoever dared to enter your apartment.

“Get off me you son of a bitch,” Dean barks, fighting your dogs. Whilst Morning circles the mobster like prey, Star already sinks her teeth into his pants, tugging at the fabric, tearing it apart. “Y/N, tell the dogs to back off.”

“Morning, Star, kill him,” voice cold you cover your body with your blanket, ignoring Dean calls your name, begs you to stop your dogs. 

“I will kill them if you do not stop them,” snarling Dean gets his gun out and you click your tongue. “Morning, Star, come here, protect mommy.”

“Fucking shit, Y/N,” Dean limps into your bedroom, glaring at the dogs who flank your bed. Teeth gritted, eyes following the alpha the German shepherds protect you and your unborn child. “Good dogs. Fine dogs. I got a steak in my trunk.”

“What do you want here?” you do not turn around, rather snuggle into your pillow to inhale the synthetic scent Jack gave you. “I thought I clarified you are dead if you ever come close to me again.”

“That’s my child inside of you. Now be good and pack your things,” Dean purrs, looking at you. He believes your omega will give in, will follow his order but you chuckle at his words, clicking your tongue.

“No…no…not again!” Star pounces on Dean, pushes him to the ground with her weight. “Y/N, please tell that beast to get off me.”

“Morning, give him the rest,” Morning trots toward Dean, purring for a moment before he starts to lick Dean’s face. “Yes, lick the falseness off his ugly face.”

“Eek, that’s disgusting. Tell the furry beasts to leave me alone. I’m still your alpha,” you snicker silently when you turn around to watch Star grit her teeth to attack your former alphas crotch. “No, please…shit…take that dog off me or I’ll shoot the beast.”

“Star, kill his manhood,” you smirk, watching Dean look at you in horror. “Do it slow, baby. He likes it when you tease him a little, take him deep enough to tickle my throat.”

CHOOSE YOUR ENDING UNDER THE CUT.

Bad ending…

“Y/N, I know I hurt you but please, give me the chance to explain that I made a stupid mistake. Please, I still love you and I want to raise my child with you,” Dean pleas but you are too hurt to ever forgive Dean.

“No, Dean. I gave up everything to be with you. I never even thought about betraying you. If you would love me, you…,” your voice cracks and you need to take a deep breath before you face Dean. “No one who loves his omega forces her to leave and threatens her life. I want you to go and never come back. To me you are only a loose end from now on…”

Alternative ending…

“You had your fun, sweetheart. Now tell the dogs to get off me,” you smirk, humming to yourself. “Baby? That wasn’t the plan!”

“It wasn’t yours,” you swing your legs out of the bed to kneel next to Dean, looking at your alpha. His face covered in slobber; pants ripped apart he looks up at you. “You know, when you told me you’ve got a rat in your organization and that you need to know I’m safe, I didn’t plan on spending months hidden in a shabby apartment, Winchester.”

“I found the culprit,” Dean points toward Star, whining when she opens her mouth, revealing sharp teeth. “Baby, please…”

“I don’t know, Dean. Seeing you so helpless underneath an omega makes me feel so good,” you smirk, sliding your hand over his chest. “I had to buy a synthetic scent, Dean.”

“It was for your safety, Y/N. Now let me get up and scent my omega. I need to have you back in my arms,” one click of your tongue later your dogs relax, even lick Dean’s face again. “No…fuck, …no…eek! I’m no food…”

——-

“So…,” you rest your head onto Dean’s chest, patting his thigh, “you found the big bad guy?”

“Girl,” humming you close your eyes, inhaling Dean’s scent deeply. “Sorry, I know that I promised to come back sooner. It’s been a hell of a month. I never thought it was Amara who rats us out.”

“I’ve missed you, is all. Why didn’t you tell Sam about the rat? Why only me?” you look up at Dean who gives you a soft smile. “Dean?”

“It had to look realistic. I needed the traitor to believe you are out of the picture and that I think you are the one who told the cops about our plans,” Dean pecks your hair, thankful he finally has you back in his arms. “Sammy is mad at me, though.”

“Figures, alpha,” you yawn, relaxing in Dean’s arms. “He’s your brother and wants you to trust him unconditionally.”

“This wasn’t about trust; it was about protecting you and not involving anyone else. Sam, he would’ve insisted on keeping an eye on you or to help me. I had to play my role well, get my brother and anyone loving you mad at me.”

“In other words, you made a hasty decision and didn’t want to stop when you realized it was a dumb idea. You know, in your office I wanted to rip your head off. It felt so real my inner omega was hurt,” Dean sniffles, looking at you.

“Tomorrow, I’ll bring you home. You and the two killers you call your pets,” you nod, wanting nothing more than to finally reunite with your alpha…

Tags in reblog

[peninkwrites]

The First Night - Ch 4 of 9

Tubbo celebrates his birthday. An ending and a new beginning all at once.

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 3

Ch 5

Mafia AU masterpost

~ Tubbo ~

Tubbo leaves home easily enough not long after dark, heading back toward Niki’s bakery.  Its front windows are dark and the closed sign is pressed to the door, but Tubbo still sees the rye at the top of the display case.  He heads around the back to a narrow staircase.  There, he knocks 3 times and then once more.  The door opens a hair.

“Rye.”

“Tubbo!” Ranboo throws open the door and pulls him inside.

Tubbo isn’t used to this much positive attention.  Niki and Ranboo have decorated the speakeasy with balloons and multicolored streamers.  The basement of the bakery is much longer than the actual building, more than large enough to house a dozen wooden tables, a few booths, a long bar taking up the far wall, and a small stage beside it.  The neon sign glowing out The Secret City is accompanied by a happy birthday banner.

“Happy birthday!” Niki says excitedly, abandoning her two current patrons to greet him with a hug.

“You already said happy birthday,” Tubbo says, a bit startled by the fanfare.

“And I’m saying it again!  Come on– Jack is here already, still waiting on the others,” Niki nods over to the booth nearest to the bar.

“Hey Jack,” Tubbo gives him a nod.

“Happy birthday!  You had your first drink yet?” Jack drums excitedly on the table.

“No, I haven’t.  Not especially psyched for that part.”

“What part are you, then?  Gonna get registered to vote?” Jack scoffs.

Tubbo shrugs, sitting across from him.  “I just love democracy, man.”

“Ranboo!  Go sit with your friends,” Niki calls scoldingly to her little brother.  “If someone hears a knock, just get the door,” she says vaguely to the patrons nearest to it.

“Fine, fine,” Ranboo slides into the booth beside Tubbo.  He’s not wearing his mask anymore, instead there’s an unsure smile and a jagged, violent scar through his left cheek.  “So.  How was your birthday?”

“Uh.  Highlight was helping Tommy pickpocket some tourists.  So.  Nothing special,” Tubbo shrugs.  “I asked Big Q to come, though!  I think he will.”

Three knocks, followed by a fourth.  An unsure customer answering it and letting in a grumpy looking Tommy.

“Sorry I’m late!  Had to find a way down from a fucking rooftop.  How come only some buildings have roof access and others don’t?” Tommy complains loudly before sitting next to Jack, who already looks irritated.  “Hello, Jack.  How have you been?” Tommy grins, before feigning sharp worry.  “Oooh, you been stressed recently?  Your hair is starting to fall out!”

“Tommy,” Tubbo says scoldingly.  “We said play nice.”

“I am being nice.”

“Yeah, you’re right–  How about you, Tommy?  Been sleeping well, lately?” Jack feigns the same worry, annoyance ill contained.

Tommy scowled.  “You might think I’m above breaking locks but I most definitely am not!  You should’ve kept the old ones, save you the property damage.”

Jack sours at this.  “When I lose my fucking job I’m going to kill you, chop you up, and sell your pieces on the black market to pay rent.”

“No, you’re going to come work security for me here.  Ranboo is not going to be my doorman forever,” Niki says pointedly from the bar.

“Are we all just gonna stroll on past this man threatening my life?” Tommy whines.

“We’re not ignoring it, Niki just offered an alternative.  Problem solved,” Ranboo points out.

Tommy grumbles at this.  “Oh!  Yeah, reminds me–” Tommy rummage through his many pockets.  “Eryn couldn’t make it, busy working,” Tommy rolls his eyes at the thought, “but he sends his best and… this!” He slaps a mess of crumpled bills on the table.  “Wish he gave me money for my birthday… last year all I got was ice from your shitty ice machine,” Tommy glares at Jack like that was personally his fault.

“He– For the love of god tell me you don’t wander the halls as well,” Jack looks panicked by the thought.

“No.  We’re not stupid.  That’s what made it a present. Eryn had to sneak down there to get it.  It was a one time thing,” Tommy nods wisely.

“I still don’t see why you don’t move in here,” Ranboo says.  “Niki said the couch is yours if you want it.”

“I’m not gonna break your fuckin’ couch,” Tommy scoffs.  “I would much rather sleep in a real bed.”

“Right, you rest easy knowing some poor person could check into their room late and find a filthy child staying there instead?” Jack snaps.

“Oh yeah.  I like living on the edge.  I like the challenge too.  Keep changing the locks, Manifold.  I’ll just break ‘em,” Tommy leans back, arms behind his head.

Tommy’s life is saved from Jack’s wrath by the arrival of cake.

Tubbo is starting to think Quackity isn’t coming.  It’s inching closer to midnight, Tubbo has had his first drink– a sweet thing, mostly a honey soda with a splash of rum, just to say he’d tried it.  That’s fine by him.  Quackity didn’t have to come.  Tubbo is fine in the company of his friends.  Tubbo is managing to survive getting gifts, even if he always feels like it’s too much.  Niki and Ranboo had provided the cake, and Jack’s offer of spending a few days out of the city and going fishing with him at some relative’s cabin is thoughtful even if Tubbo can’t afford to take him up on it.

“We’ll match!” Tommy says excitedly as he passes over a green bandana with a bow on top.

“Uh, no.  It would match if it was red.  Yours is red,” Jack points out.

“Shut up, Jack Manifold.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Tubbo takes it.  He grows more delighted.  “There’s a price tag on it!  Did you buy it?!  Or,” he grows more suspicious.  “Did you shoplift?”

“I bought it.  With money,” Tommy says proudly.

Tubbo wipes an imaginary tear.  “I’m touched.”

“Where’d you get the money?”

“Shut up, Jack Manifold.”

There’s another knock at the door, Tubbo doesn’t think much of it, patrons had been coming and going all evening, but then a familiar face in a suit comes to the table.

“Sorry I’m late.  Hope I didn’t miss all the fun,” Quackity hesitates, unsure of where to sit, both sides of the booth occupied.

“Pull up a chair,” Tubbo nods to the surrounding tables.

“Better have a good excuse, Big Q!” Tommy scolds him.  “It’s the man’s birthday.”

“Sorry, sorry.  Had to help Karl with some stuff.  Oh– speaking of,” Quackity slides a golden box across the table.  “Happy birthday.”

Tubbo opens it to find a beautiful golden watch that was probably worth way too much money.  Not that Quackity had to spend any to get it.  “Ah, give my thanks to Karl too, then.  Oh! The little spinny thing on the side is a tiny bee!  Oh my god that is so cool.”

“Thought you’d like it,” Quackity tries to sound cocky, but it’s clear he’s pleased.

“Thank you all, really.  This was… too kind.  I don’t really know what to say,” Tubbo doesn’t know what to do with all of this caring.  He is loved.  He doesn’t know if that fact is what will make the rest of this night easier or so much harder.

“I wouldn’t say it was too kind,” Ranboo pulls him from his train of thought.  “Maybe just kind enough.  You’re a good friend, Tubbo.  Could at least let us return the favor.”

Tubbo nods.  “How about the last round is on me?”  He shoves forward the cash Eryn had left him, letting the cheers and mindless chatter around the room wash over him.

Eventually the night must end.  The Secret City closes and those remaining are asked to leave in small groups.  Tubbo’s party leaves together in good spirits even as a drizzle has started over the cold city streets.

“Tommy, you better be going off to find a couch to crash on!” Jack says warningly.

“You’re not even there tonight!  What do you care?” Tommy teases back.  “Right, good night then, bossman.  I’ve got a hotel to break into,” he says with a wink.

Tubbo makes it halfway down the block, trying to hold onto the joy of the night even as his destination looms closer, when he’s startled by company.

“Hey!” Quackity calls, jogging to catch up to him.  “Want me to walk you home?”

Tubbo rolls his eyes.  “You don’t need to do that, Big Q.  I’ve walked back from Niki’s alone a hundred times.”

“Yeah, well, I worry.  Humor me,” Quackity shrugs.  He pauses, walking beside him with his hands in his pockets.  “Sorry I got all… defensive earlier.  Guess you just took me by surprise a bit.”

Tubbo manages a stiff nod.  “It’s okay.  I pushed.  Wasn’t right of me either.”

“Has… has something happened, Tubbo?  Lately, you’ve been… well, kind of acting like you don’t give a fuck anymore.  If that makes sense,” Quackity isn’t sure how else to say it.

“I’m just tired,” Tubbo keeps his tone mild.

“Yeah? Tired of what?”

“You heard what I said earlier.  I stand by it,” Tubbo heads up to his front door, Quackity follows.  “You gonna come inside to read me a bedtime story as well?” He says dryly.

Quackity laughs.  “Nah, actually.  Just gotta pick up some shit from Schlatt’s office.”

Tubbo pauses at this, clearly unhappy with this.  “Right.  Got it.”

Quackity follows him inside, giving a nod to the sleepy lackey tasked with guarding the house.  Tubbo heads upstairs.  He turns left instead of right at the landing.

“Where’re you going?” Quackity asks, making no move to go to Schlatt’s office.

Tubbo pauses, looking back to Quackity with perfect calm.  “...Just going to say goodnight to my dad.  Tell him I got home safe.”

“Okay,” Quackity doesn’t follow Tubbo upstairs.  He doesn’t go down the hall to Schlatt’s office.  He turns around, sits on the steps, and waits.