imagine this doesn't suck

Your throat burns as you throw back the shot. You slam the glass back down onto the table and fail at not making a face. Across from you, Aoyama who just finished her own shot, laughs at you and the way your whole face crinkles up. 

That was it, you told yourself. That would be your one shot of the night. God forbid you end up drunk tonight and shack up with one of your coworkers… Again… Nope! You were going to be responsible tonight, you would nurse this glass of beer all night long and enjoy chatting with the people around you. There wasn't any need for you to embarrass yourself. 

The izakaya you had all gone to was a bit of a hole in the wall but Kazai swore by its reputation. He had told your group that this place was practically a historical monument at this point, having been his favorite drinking establishment since college. Kenma had sighed in relief when first entering and made some comment about how at least it was quieter than the places he had visited with the previous CEO. 

The long table you sat at seated all ten of you was a horigotatsu, built low to the ground with the floor recessed beneath it so your feet would dangle near the heater in the floor as you sat and drank. The food wasn't that bad either, you enjoyed the cheap plates of sashimi and karaage. 

Kenma plops back down next to you as he, Kazai, Tomoske, and Sanada from Marketing return from grabbing drinks. Kenma's hands though, unlike the three men who were talking his ear off, were notably empty. But you suppose there is reason to be grateful for that as he is swaying in his seat looking as if he may topple over just as he did when he had been exhausted during that one day of work.

You think that when he sways in your direction that he's going to fall on top of you but by some miracle he stops just short of your ear and slurs. “ Think 'm gonna need a kidney transplant after all this.” His breath is hot on the cuff of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You wonder if that shot you had taken earlier was finally kicking in as you felt your entire face grow hot. You uncomfortably tug at your shirt collar as you try to remember how to breathe. When Kenma pulls away out of your bubble of personal space, you think you finally can again. 

You turn to look at your boss as he sits in the seat beside you, his eyes half lidded with a lazy expression on his face. His hair falls in front of his eyes and he tries to blow a loose strand of hair out of his face but when it refuses to budge, he turns to you and pouts.

Cute. 

That warm feeling returns as you reach over to sweep the strands behind his ear. The smile he gives you is so innocent and happy. Like a little boy with not a care in the world.

He's so cute!

That's weird. Why are you even thinking things like that? This is your boss we're talking about here. This is Kenma. The same Kenma that borderline tolerates your existence. You slap both of your cheeks at once, trying to snap yourself out of it. There is no reason you should be thinking he is cute. It's probably just the alcohol. You need to cut yourself off before you try to jump his bones again.

“Here you go, Kozume-Shachou.” Sanada says passing the mug of beer to Kenma. It is amazing how fast your boss's smile drops as he frowns at the drink. “You don't need a refill or anything, Hisho-chan?” You blink in surprise as you realize that Sanada is speaking to you as he points to your glass. “Looks like you've barely touched your drink.”

“Oh yeah, I'm not trying to drink too much tonight. I still have to make it home after all.” You answer politely. Sanada is nice, very respectful even if he can be a bit air headed at times. You feel bad about not drinking much after they were nice enough to invite you out but you need to keep your faculties about you or else you will make an utter fool of yourself.

“Aww, But (L/N)-san! I wanna take a shot wit you!” Ichigo whines loudly. She is just about as wasted as Kenma is but instead of a sleepy drunk, she seems to be a loud, excitable one.  She reaches across the table to hold your hands in hers making your eyes widen at the usually quiet girl. “Take a shot wit me. I'ma- I'ma buy shots fer the whole table!” 

Curse you, Ichigo and your adorable little face.

Curse you, societal pressure to drink at work events.

And Curse You for being such a people pleaser and not being able to say no to people!

“Okay.” You answer the younger girl’s request, making her squeal in celebration. She nearly falls over in all her drunken excitement but a woman from accounting catches her and sits her back up straight. 

Sanada throws his arms up in celebration, “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Kazai joins in, “ Shots! Shots! Shots!”

From across the table Aoyama gives you a weary look as she tilts her head in Kenma's direction, “Is CEO Kozume okay there?”

You turn to look at Kenma who's doing his best to keep his head up. It bobs as his eyelashes flutter as if he's fighting the urge to pass out. You were mid thought in wondering if you should call a cab for him so he could head home when his head suddenly falls on your shoulder. You go ridgid as you hear him mumble, “You smell real good, (Y/N)”

You feel your face grow hot and you lift your drink to your lips and begin to chug. Why would he say that? Kenma hates your perfume, he's literally told you to stop wearing it. So why the hell is he snuggling into your neck, talking about how good you smell? Oh dear God, he's snuggling into your neck! Is Kenma not only a sleepy drunk but also a cuddly drunk? Heh, maybe that's how the two of you ended up sleeping together that one night. 

You're just glad that the two of you ended up sitting next to each other. You could only imagine seeing the man being all touchy with any of the others.

Suddenly the thought of the man next to you being cuddly with a stranger or worse, one of your other coworkers, makes your stomach churn. You can't let that happen. For Kenma's sake, ofcourse. Not like there's any other reason. You just want to protect this man's sanctity, his virtue, and whatever else you trampled on when you were black out drunk.

“Kozume-Shachou! Wake up, we're going to take a shot together.” Sanada says, shaking the long haired man, spooking you in the process. 

Kazai and Tomoske chuckle as Kenma sits up straight to glare at Sanada, “Sanada-kun. Don't you know better than to Chaperone a bro? Come on?” Chaperone? You feel the unbearable heat return to your face at the assumption made. Everyone thought you and Kozume Kenma were close.

Sanada looks at them confused but you on the other hand are already throwing your hands up to clear up the confusion, “Oh no, it's not like that. We’ve just known eachother forever and CEO Kozume is literally wasted. He's not usually like this.”

“See Takashi. I told you It wasn't like that.” Kenma mumbles as he slouches and rests his head on the table tracing the beads of water on his glass of beer with the tip of his finger. He's pouting again. 

“Takashi?” You question out loud, unsure of who he's referring to.

“Wow, (L/N). You don't even know my first name? I'm hurt.” Kazai drawls from his seat. He rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he pouts dramatically. A drunk Ichigo pats him on the shoulder, believing his faux expression of hurt. 

“Honestly, I think we're all more surprised by the Boss actually using your given name.” Tomoske comments as he slips his beer.

Kazai smiles smugly, “What can I say, we're sort of bros now. When you and Sanada were paying for the beers, we really bonded. We talked about work and games, I even gave him some relationship advice.”

Relationship advice? You turn to look at Kenma but he's too busy scowling at Sanada as the man pours him a shot and reaches over to fill your glass as well.

“You, giving relationship advice? That's rich, Ta-ka-shi” Aoyama rolls her eyes as she practically purrs each syllable of his name. 

“I love the way you say my name.” He coos back only for her to roll her eyes and turn away. You begin to ponder on Kazai’s earlier statement of his and Aoyama's ‘will they won't they’ dynamic and wonder why they don't. At work if there is ever a chance for the two to have lunch together, they do. Sometimes he will come in early just to ride the elevator to the top floor just to chat with Aoyama. And you swear that Aoyama is annoyed that he didn't choose to sit by her tonight. Instead Kazai is halfway down the table, nestled between Tomoske and Ichigo.

You think that if you were in her shoes, you'd act on your feelings. You would ask to switch seats, heck you would probably already be dating your coworker by now if you had this much romantic tension with someone. 

Oh, let's face it, you would even if you didn't. You don't just act on your feelings, you act without thinking. You decided to marry a guy who was clearly not interested in you on a whim. And remember how easily you fell into bed with Kenma while drunk? Yeah, maybe you should be the one taking relationship advice from Kazai. 

Kenma looks at you and pouts, “(Y/N)”

“Oh, uh.. Yeah?” You pause from your thoughts to look at him.

“ ‘m tired of drinking. Can you please drink it for me?” he holds out his shot glass out to you, expectantly. 

You blink at him as he sits there with that same pouty face from earlier, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink from the alcohol. You swear your heart contracts as you stifle the urge to squeal over how cute he was. You decide that you like Drunk Kenma. He was just so adorable and sweet! Seeing him like this just makes you so happy, like you're finally allowed to see a side of Kenma that you never got to before. You like it.

“CEO Kozume is kind of cute when he's drunk.” You hear one of the girls say.

This immediately snaps you back to reality. Who had even said that? Was it Ichigo? She was drunk enough to say whatever was on her mind. Or was it that girl from marketing? What was her name again? Tsuchiya? Was she just that drunk too? Who even makes comments on how cute their boss is? That's like super inappropriate guys. Like keep those thoughts to yourself. Ugh! You need to focus, you promised yourself that you would protect Kenma and his virtue tonight. If that means drinking his drink so he won't get anymore drunk, cute, and cuddly, then so be it!

You take the shot in from his hand and slam it back. As soon as you set the glass on the table you grab your own shot and drink it immediately. There's an immediate head rush that drowns out the laughing and cheering at the table. The heat returns to your face as the buzz intensifies and somehow makes you feel a bit looser, lighter even.

You let out a groan and place a hand on Kenma's shoulder to balance yourself, “Oh the things I do for you, Boss.”

“You Okay, (Y/N)?” Kenma asks you, staring up at you with these innocent sleepy eyes of his. Gosh his eyes were a pretty color. The way the dim overhead lights from the bar reflected in his amber eyes really made them just shine. They looked like gold. You nod slightly, feeling the sudden inability to form words at the moment. You watch as the corners of the man's golden eyes crinkle a bit as he smiles at your answer. He looks nice when he smiles, it's the sort of look that makes you feel like you could just melt. This is sort of funny, with how long you've known the man, you think this is the most you've ever seen him smile. From what you remember in school he'd hardly look at you, let alone smile at you. And tonight it's like he only wants to look at you, and all of his sweet little smiles are just for you.

Ugh! What are you doing, thinking like this!? You're just a little drunk, that's it. All the alcohol you just consumed is just hitting you a little quicker right now and that's why you're having these weird thoughts. If you just pay attention to anything besides the adorable man sitting beside you, these thoughts will pass.

You look up at your coworkers who are chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Aoyama and Kazai are bickering about something, you can't quite seem to follow the conversation so you turn to Tomoske who is explaining something about mortgages to Sanada and the other fresh faced kids from marketing. They look just about as lost as you do. You look down at the table littered with drinks and food instead and opt to give that your full attention.

You pick up your chopsticks and as deftly as someone who just took three shots in a row can, you pick up a sushi roll. It tastes good despite being so cheap. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. Sometimes when you're wasted it's like your taste buds are too and suddenly whatever you're eating is either the best thing you've ever had or utter trash. You're happy it's the first.

Your eyes make the mistake of wandering back to Kenma again. Maybe they just forgot all about mental gymnastics you just went through to tear yourself away from his gaze or maybe it's because you could feel him looking at you. 

He's laid his head back down upon his arms that rest on the table but his lazy stare is focused on you. You freeze under his gaze as his eyes, half lidded and sparkling under the bar lights watch you like you're a movie screen. You hold the bite of sushi in your chopsticks dangerously close to your mouth as you try to decide on your next move. Naturally you should just eat it right? But the way Kenma's looking at you. Could it be that he…

You hold the bite out to him. He flinches a bit at the sudden movement as the chopsticks invade his personal space, “Hungry?” You muse, knowing how this song and dance goes with Kenma. Getting him to eat was like trying to give a feral street cat a bath and making it wear one of those sweaters made for pets. 

So you're a bit stunned as he lifts his head and opens his mouth as he goes, “Ahhh”

You die. You're dead. Your heart explodes in your chest and your soul ascends to a higher plane because that is the only way you will ever be able to process how stinking cute he is! 

Kozume freaking Kenma is letting you feed him!

You know that if he was the slightest bit sober he would hate you for this. But you can't help the way your heart swells when he closes his eyes and smiles at you after he swallows. The gesture reminds you of how cats close their eyes when they feel safe, relaxed, and content. It's like he's happy to just be near you. It's sort of funny how bad you wanted to just be his friend when you were younger. And now here you are. You and Kenma are close.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you grab another sushi roll and let Kenma eat it from your chopsticks. 

“Not like that, huh?” Kazai says making you jump a bit.

“Aww, that's actually so cute. You really do take good care of the Boss, huh?” 

Aoyama smirks, “Yeah, she takes her job very seriously” you feel your cheeks heat up. Why did she have to say it like that?

“Hisho-chan, you'd make a very good wife. Are you single?” Sanada asks and you can see Tomoske in the corner facepalm.

“Sanada-kun, that was way too forward. Seriously, how drunk are you?”

“ I- what?” You sputter. Was Sanada hitting on you? You genuinely couldn't tell. He had spoke in the same chipper tone that he had all night, there was no indication in his voice that he was flirting with you. But then again there was no sign that he was joking either.

Kenma sits up a bit straighter and looks over his shoulder at the oblivious man seated next to him. “Why are you asking if (Y/N) is single?” 

Sanada paused for a second as if he has to really think about his reasoning. In all honesty, this guy seems kinda dopey. “huh, I guess it's because she's pretty?”

You cough, choking on the air that you suddenly forgot how to breathe. Why would he phrase it like a question?

Kenma looks like he's mulling Sanada’s answer over in his head. His previously sleepy expression now looking more thoughtful as his half lidded gaze makes him appear more wisened and contemplative. “Hmm…Yeah, (Y/N) is really pretty.” 

Critical hit!

That was Super Effective!

You might just faint! It's time to drop some cash in a panic and rush back to the nearest pokemon center! You don't know why Kenma's blunt attack was so much stronger than you could ever expect but, it really knocked the wind out of you and left you feeling paralyzed. You kinda feel like those words alone have sobered you up.

“Still, you shouldn't talk to her like that.” Kenma mutters, looking away. “It's not… appropriate.”

Sanada quirks his head to the side in confusion, “What do you mea-”

The girl sitting beside him lands a smack to the back of his head, cutting him off immediately. She huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms, “You really are dense aren't you?”

“Huh?” Sanada chirps.

You don't think you've fully recovered just yet when Kenma begins to stand up from the table. His legs are as wobbly as a newborn deers as he speaks to the table, “Thanks for inviting me. ‘m tired though, think I'm gonna go to bed.” He doesn't bother with any further niceties as he turns on his heel to leave, nearly toppling right over as he does. 

“Oh Kenma, be careful.” You chide worriedly. 

You rush to your feet to keep Kenma from falling. Kazai is already at his side throwing your bosses’ arm over his shoulder to help him stand. “Woah man, you are way more drunk than I thought you were.”

“ ‘m not.” Kenma mutters as the two of you try to walk him outside.

“Sure you aren't.” You say as you slip your arm under his suit jacket and around his waist to get a better grip on him.

Kenma giggles and slurs, “Are ya trying to take off my clothes?” He's blushing as he asks this, rearing his head as far away from you as possible as if that would hide the shy smile flitting onto his features.

“Kenma!” You gasp in horror at the accusation. You have no idea where he would get that idea.

Kenma groans as he whines, “I just wanna go to bed. ‘m so tired!” He bursts into another fit of giggles and tries to push your face away, “Ugh! Stop feeling me up, you sicko!” 

Sick idiot!? “Kenma!” You hiss, “Stop making me out to be a pervert.” 

The three of you finally make it outside where Kazai helps you get Kenma to sit down on the curb. He's mumbling nonsense as he pouts, seemingly passed his giggle fit. “Stop making you out… Making- Making out- Bet ya want to be making out with Sanada. More like Snot Duh… I hate that guy. I'm going to fire him. Let's fire him tomorrow or Monday. What's today again?”

You let out an exasperated laugh “Kenma you will not be firing anyone. You're drunk.”

“You're drunk.” He shoots back

You sigh, turning to Kazai, “I can take the cab back with him and make sure he gets home okay. We'll be fine. Tell Aoyama I said bye, okay?”  

Kazai nods, “Okay, be safe. And if he tries anything…” he trails off to look at your boss lying on his back on the sidewalk. “You know what, I'm not too worried about you (L/N), you could probably take him in a fight.”

You snicker at the comment and shake your head. “Good night, Kazai”

“Good night.” He says waving goodbye before he disappears back inside.

You look back down at Kenma, “Okay buddy, let's get you home.”

The elevator is jam-packed, you, Kenma, and just about every team leader and their secretary are like sardines stuffed into this tin can as it moves to the floor with the conference hall. The air is thick with tension and anticipation. It feels like everyone has been preparing for this meeting forever. 

From your left, Kenma fidgets beside you as a member of the engineering department starts breathing heavily. You try to look in her direction, worried that she may be having a panic attack of some kind when you hear Team Leader Kazai say to the distressed girl, “You can relax Ichigo. There is nothing to be nervous about, CEO Kozume approved of our work himself. Please don't worry so much.” 

It's a softer tone than you've ever heard the snarky Kazai speak in. Whenever he talks to you and Aoyama, he's always loud and flirty. But Ichigo seems to be a younger member of the engineering team, a prodigy straight out of school. She's smart but from what you've seen, the rest of the department kind of babies her. 

“I'm nervous too.” Kenma says, catching everyone’s attention. If the mood of the elevator wasn't anxious before, it is now. You look at Kenma, your brows pinched as he stares straight ahead.

“Y-you are?” Ichigo asks in a small voice.

“Yeah. I don't really like presentations or crowds so, I'm sort of worried I'm going to screw this all up.” The elevator is dead silent as Kenma speaks, “The only relief I have is knowing that you and your team made one hell of a server system. Heck, if Sony doesn't want to partner with us, I know there's Netflix or a million other companies that will.”

This makes Ichigo smile and Kazai clap a hand on her shoulder, “Hell yeah they would.”

Kenma turns to Kazai, looking him dead in the eyes with an intense stare, “But I want Sony.”

You feel a chill run up your spine when Kenma speaks. Is this really the same guy who gets flustered when you tease him and whines about being fussed over?

“I don't want to program servers and clouds for the rest of our lives. I want Bouncing Ball to be something different. I want to make video games. I want to make good games, with good servers, made by good people. Sony is our ticket to that.” Kenma says as he turns around to face the elevator packed with people. He bows his head as he tries to speak a bit louder to everyone there, “So I promise I will do my best today. Please don't worry.”

A few gasps ring out in the elevator, surprised by their CEO’s gesture, and when Kenma looks back up, he's greeted by smiling faces and a few misty eyes.  The elevator is livelier now as everyone chats about their hopes for the future of the company. He quickly turns back around to face the front of the elevator once more, his face beet red.

“That was great.” You whisper to him leaning in close. You couldn't help but feel a pang of pride, he was acting really leader like.

“That was so embarrassing.” He whispers back to you, a pained expression on his face 

You shake your head, “No. It was good. I think it really helped lift everyone’s spirits. Everyone loves knowing that our fearless leader is fighting for us.” 

The thing was, Kenma actually did a good job. You were kind of surprised, not that you doubted him or anything but, he kept eye contact with the men in suits at the far end of the table, spoke clearly and loudly, you're sure half of the employees from your company at that table were shocked as well. It was an entirely different Kenma. You're not quite sure how he did it. 

Kazai presented his team's part of the proposal quite well too, you think it was a good idea to invite the engineering department to explain the intricacies of how the server operates since it was them who designed it themselves. 

All in all, it felt like a success. So when the suits from Sony finally stood to leave and you all bid your farewells, you couldn't help but feel like you all had won. One look around, and you could tell, most of the team felt the same. 

Kenma lets out a deep sigh as he dramatically plops down in his chair. He tugs at his tie despite the rest of his employees still being in the room. He loosens it to the point that you think he might be able to just slip it over his head at that point. He pauses when they start clapping. The entire room gives him a round of applause for his presentation, you politely clap along and smile softly at him when he turns to you in confusion.

“You did great, Kenma. We're very proud to have you.” You tell him.

He looks surprised by your words for a moment and then turns back to everyone else and slightly bows his head, “Uh- Thank you guys… I couldn't have done it without you all. I am very grateful.” a part of you wants to giggle over how formal he's had to speak this afternoon, 

The meeting was adjourned and everyone was free to go home but there were those who still lingered. You gathered up the paperwork and files that sat in front of Kenma, you would have to put these away before you could go home tonight.

“(L/N), you're coming with us to celebrate over drinks, right?” Kazai asks, bounding up to you, Ichigo and a tired looking Tomoske from finance trailing behind him. 

“Drinks?” You parrot back to him. You can't believe it, you're actually being invited out to drinks by your coworkers! This is just like on TV! “Sure!” You answer a bit too loudly. 

“Awesome. I even got Aoyama to agree, too!” Kazai tells you excitedly.

You smile and roll your eyes as Kazai turns to excitedly tell Ichigo all about Aoyama and how the secretary is ‘practically in love with him,’ and how they have this whole ‘will they, won't they thing going on’. Tomoske taps you gently on the shoulder and points across the room as he begins to speak, “Secretary (L/N), we were also wondering if you might be able to get CEO Kozume to come along. A lot of us would like to show our appreciation for him today and buy him a drink. We figured you were the closest to him so he might say yes.”

People thought you and Kenma were close? You guess they're not wrong. The two of you are constantly bickering, no one else in the office dares to talk to him like how you do, and you two see eachother more than anyone else. But still the implication that all your coworkers view you two as ‘close’ makes your cheeks a bit rosy. You look at Kenma as he slips his tie over his head and begins to run his fingers through his slicked back hair, ruining it so that it falls back into it's natural state. You quickly look back to Tomoske who stares at you expectantly, he's a tall, quiet man. He would look like one of those K-POP singers almost, if any of them were closing in on 40 and had eye bags dark enough that people just questioned that he just didn't know how to put eyeshadow on. 

“Sure, I'll ask. Couldn't hurt.” You say. You had a bad feeling that it might, but you kept telling yourself that the worst thing he could say is ‘no’. Yeah, he could say ‘no’ and inadvertently make you let down all your coworkers that think you have some sort of power because the two of you seem close. What if they thought that you didn't try hard enough if he said ‘no’, or that you told him not to come because you wish to maintain your status of ‘close’ to the boss. Ugh! You just want these people to like you! You pray Kenma doesn't ruin this for you.

“Hiya Boss.” You say cheerily as you jump up on the corner of the boardroom table so you're seated right next to him. He looks a bit startled by the action and you mentally cringe. What are you doing? Is this position weird? Does anyone else think that this is weird? You had just done it with out thinking. That's what you do, you sit on people's desks sometimes. You sit on your own or Aoyama’s sometimes if the two of you are just chatting. Heck, you've even sat on Kenma’s before. Ugh, why are you so self conscious right now?

“Um… do you need anything, (Y/N)?” He asks, giving you a small weary smile. He's no doubt weirded out by how wide you're smiling. How much teeth is too much teeth, again? The corners of your mouth twitch. 

What were you supposed to ask again? You're totally spacing. You should say something before this gets anymore awkward than it already is, “love your hair.” You comment, gesturing to him as you mentally cringe. You're glad that it isn't the most awkward thing you could've said. At least you said anything at all. Besides his hair is nice, as much as you think ‘hair-pulled-back-Kenma’ has this distinguished look about him that really highlights his bone structure, like that secret jawline, you also like his hair down. You mostly see Kenma with his hair half up but his bangs are always falling in his face. He can try to tuck it behind his ear as much as he liked but those wispy strands are just relentless. Always framing his face just so-

“Wow, Secretary (L/N) you're really buttering the boss up. Are our chances of him agreeing that bad?” Kazai says, butting into your poor excuse for a conversation. He side eyes you and whispers, “I saw you were drowning.” Ah! So this was a rescue. Well Team Leader Kazai, just know that you are eternally grateful.

“What am I agreeing to?” Kenma's weary smile drops as his whole body language shifts into something more uncomfortable. 

“W-we all want to know if you would join us for drinks!” Ichigo manages to get the words out as she bows her head. You stare at her gobsmacked, even little Ichigo was able to ask, how come you got so flustered!?

“We wanted to thank you for today.” Tomoske adds, rubbing at the bags under his eyes.

“Oh. Uh that's not necessary…” Kenma mumbles, quickly looking to the door, no doubt looking for a way to escape.

“Ah come on, you know it's tradition.” Kazai says “I know you definitely went out with the old man before he retired.” 

“Yeah, and CEO Kobayashi always forced me to drink way too much.” Kenma mutters 

“We'll make sure not to buy you too many drinks.” You offer, finally rejoining the conversation after recovering from that earlier bump in the road. “I’d really like it if you came.”

“...Okay”

Kuroo's ex-girlfriend - Chapter 1 - YellowJewl - Haikyuu!! [Archive of Our Own]

YellowJewl

Summary:

Here is chapter 2/2 of the continuation fic to Sleeping with Spiders, I hope you're happy you little nasties. We're back and gorier than ever It's fucked, real fucked. There is murder, smut, violence, if you are not comfortable with these themes, don't worry it's not going to hurt my feelings if you scroll on by, I'll still love you.

Chapter 2

Their ecological role is to be prey,” said some doctor during a nature documentary, you had only turned on for the background noise. “They are born to be eaten, and humans are just one of their predators. Hunting has not caused any decline in the various dove species.” Its true, the bird's populations remain resilient, mostly because of their prolific reproduction methods. They’re basically flying rabbits. Commonly, producing only a pair of eggs for each nest, a mating pair will produce up to five broods of young annually, nesting from March until November. Eggs take just 2 weeks of incubation to hatch.

So in short you don't feel as bad about hunting them as you once did. The guilt that once weighed down your shoulders like a ton of bricks every time you grabbed your rifle for a hunt, that made you suffer through countless, meatless dinner nights with only the vegetables you grew from your amateur garden and instant ramen you had picked up from your bimonthly trip to town, to fill your stomach, had all passed. You were able to rationalize it now. It was okay.

They were born to die and be eaten.

You inhale a breath of crisp air into your lungs, it smells overwhelmingly like the pine trees surrounding you in this moment. As you exhale you take the time to level your rifle and aim while you prepare to shoot.

Since moving up here, so much has changed in these past few months. A part of you was worried that the isolation would get to you, that years of living in the city in your comfy apartment, would have made you too soft for this life. But in truth you loved it. You found your cabin to be cozy and charming. The chirping of birds and the delicate rustle of the leaves caused by the mountain breeze turned out to be quite relaxing while you painted. As far as finding being lonesome went, well…

He did stop by quite often, so you wouldn't say that you were all alone.

You had met him some months ago, right before you had decided to move up here. Your first meeting was… unconventional to say the least. But he had expressed great interest in your artwork and you found his talents to be quite entertaining as well. You wouldn't call it love, in your opinion you were both just a little bit too twisted for such a sentiment, instead a mutual fascination was born the the night the two of you crossed paths. 

Still, who could say that it was merely fascination that led him to your cabin time and time again, only to end up buried between your thighs, bloodied knife in hand and a breathy moan that resembled your name rolling off his tongue. 

You were grateful for him. For he was the one who awakened the real you. There was an ugly truth within you that your parents had shamed into hiding. The part of you that had only ever been let out of her cage when you painted. The girl who loved gore and horror, the girl who created truly horrific and blood curdling pieces, the girl who's toes curled in ecstasy whenever he would plunge a kitchen knife into your abdomen and slowly cut off your air supply as he choked you with only one hand. 

Being with him was like living, breathing art. A verse by one of the greats,  Being touched by him felt like poetry;

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The man was an insatiable sadistic.

And you were a monster.

You entered the log cabin with ease as the door was left open by its former occupant. The strong scent of iron gave away the presence of blood within your home. 

 Without even giving him a glance you let out an amused laugh. "Bringing your work home with you?" You joked.

"Not my home. Your's ." He responds with a smile.

"Hitchhiker or hunter?" You ask, your voice calm and level. It was casual, the conversation had a certain ease to it, as if you were chatting about what you would cook for dinner as you unloaded the groceries. The thought was so sickeningly domestic. 

You dump the dead bird carcasses on your counter.

"Hitchhiker. Picked him up on way here."

He doesn't turn to look at you as he speaks. From the moment you met him, you found the man before you to be unequivocally beautiful. With his raven black hair that falls just above his shoulders in length and frames his pale face and short stature. He was probably just below five foot if you had to guess. But despite his stature he possessed an almost lethal aura about him and when his sharp grey eyes dart to meet yours, fear itself almost made you turn tail and run when you had first encountered him. Now, his back faces you as he hunches over the young man tied and gagged to one of your dining room chairs. 

You approach Feitan from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling him affectionately, "that's hot." You tell him, feeling up his chest from over the long robes he's clothed in.

He grunts. "Mmm..." You continue to nuzzle him while you whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 

With razor sharp precision and speed, your lover plunges the knife into the man, you sigh dreamily. The victim screams out in pain, the stab wound wasn't enough to kill him, it was just deep enough to keep the game going.

In a second chair, you hear a whimper and turn to be greeted with the sight of a young woman, she looks thrown about and frightened. The victim's girlfriend you suspect, sobs as Feitan continues with his torture.

"Stop, please stop!" She begs, "I'll do anything. I'll... I'll give you anything you want." Tears stream down her beet red face, leaving stains of mascara running down her cheeks. A pitiful sight indeed but, one you know the man you are draped over would enjoy quite a bit.

 You turn and smile at her, "hush. He likes it when you scream, I don't recommend it unless you want it to be your turn sooner."

Her pupils dilate in terror as she goes silent, heeding your warning. Leaving the two of you continue to torment the now unconscious man, severing a finger every so often to awaken him from his slumber.

"Let me grab a drink. I'll be right back." You tell him too casually as if the two of you were simply sitting on the couch together watching a movie. You rush to the kitchen and reach into the cupboard to grab something you were saving for a while. Clear liquid sloshes around in the bottle as you giddily rush back to the atrocities in the living room.

You throw your head back as you take a swig of alcohol. It burns your throat on the way down, setting your insides on fire, adding to the heat and excitement you are already feeling.

"Do you enjoy it?"

The question catches you off guard but you quickly recover, "I enjoy every moment I spend with you." You say honestly. You assume he's asking about the work he's brought home and not the small bit of drinking you had indulged in. Though, honestly you do enjoy both. Drinking has become a bit more of a habit for you as you moved out here all alone. And more so since Feitan has so graciously included you in his passion projects. The booze just loosens you up is all, not that you have any inhibitions about your actions but, it does help quiet that still small voice inside that constantly reminds you that you are a monster. Not that you would tell any of this to Feitan.

Feitan looks down at you, surprise finds a home upon his brow. A pair of sharp grey eyes regard you for a moment with such intensity before coming to rest in an amused expression. "You enjoy every moment you spend with me?" He says, his voice showing curiosity, "Then why do you spend so little time with me?" He seems to be in a teasing mood today. A good thing for you.

 You swat his arm and laugh, "because you are always away with your little troupe, doin crime or whatever." You go to take another swig but take a second to drink the moment in instead, strands of raven black hair fall into his face as he leans towards you, smirk peeking out just above his bandana. As your laughter dies down, you feel the slight tinge of pink stain your cheeks.

He reaches his hand out and grabs yours, pulling you close, "I am always away with my little troupe, if I was not, we would see more of each other."

"What do you mean?" The pink in your cheeks fade into a bright cherry red. Something wells up inside you as you ask this question. It's excitement. It's knowing that the next words out of his mouth could mean everything. Could change everything. Up until this moment, you knew the deal, it was just sex accompanied by the mutual enjoyment of the slaughter and gore. You were never going to ask for more but now that the thought was placed in your head, you couldn't help but mull it over. Even you want to feel a connection.

He looks like he's about to reply to your inquiry and you impatiently await his words, when suddenly like nails on a chalkboard, the victim's girlfriend interrupts with her sobbing, "please! Please let us go!" It seems as if she couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

Feitan turns to look at her, a faint smirk on his face. He reaches his hand out and gently squeezes her cheeks as she sobs, forcibly making her purse her lips. "If that is what you want, girly." He says, venom dripping off his sweet words.

You glare at the two as the interaction plays out. Why couldn't the woman just keep quiet? Did she just have to be such an attention whore and ruin your moment? Whatever happened to women supporting women? Annoyed, you pick up a severed finger that the man had lost and walk over to the woman. you frustratedly push past Feitan and stuff the appendage in her mouth and sneer. "There that will shut you up" you say.

She begins to sob as Feitan releases her face, but before she can cough up the foreign object in her mouth, you clap your hand over her mouth and begin to squeeze.

 She begins to choke on the finger.

You let out a delighted chuckle as her eyes start to bulge from their sockets. You make a mental note to try to remember every detail of her now nearly blue face as you think about what a lovely portrait her tear stained visage would make.

Feitan draws you out of your concentration as he wraps his arms around you and begins to feel you up his hand dipping up under your shirt, "you are always so creative" he coos. You feel his other hand wandering down into your pants, but before you can react he begins to squeeze your breasts.

"Ah, you have such nice ones. Pretty little slut" He comments, as he pinches a nipple in between his fingers

 "Horny asshole." You spat before engulfing him in a kiss. The two of you collide in a passionate ferver as you continue to explore each other's bodies, until you have just about felt each other up everywhere.

You moan in ecstasy as you see him grab for his knife. You shiver in anticipation as you await for what you consider the best part of the night.

Your arms tighten around his neck as you move to straddle him. Bucking your hips, you begin to ride him back and forth, the both of you moaning as he tightens his grip on the blade in his hand.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair as you try to anchor yourself to reality. Panting, you breathe out, "what was that about wanting to be with me more often?"

"Don't remember…saying that." He grunts out as his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, helping you along as you ride him. He tightens his grip and you swear that he must've drawn blood.

You furrow your brows in frustration. And through the utter ecstasy of being impaled upon the man below you, you stutter out your response, "C-come on. Early- oh fuck yes! Ah! Earlier you at least pretended like you like me " you manage to whine out the words. You feel him stall for a moment. As if your words gave him a reason for pause but, the cold steel finds it's home dangerously close to your jugular.

"I like you... a lot." You are like a deer in the headlights as your eyes widen. You study his face, his demeanor, the tiny subtle movements of his blade, any sign that he was feeding you horse shit. But whether you simply cannot read the man or the woman alone, lost in the woods, wants so desperately to find a connection to anything that she manages to delude herself, you are unable to sniff out the lie

"I like the way you scream." as his knife trails across your jawline. He smirks as the knife flows down your curves line running water. You squeeze your eyes shut and grin wickedly as you fall victim to the extacy of the moment. You scream out as his knife plunges into your stomach. Your back arches as you scream, crying out in pain as your blood pours out of you.

You hear him chuckle. "I think you like the way i cut you up."

"Yes! Yes!" You moan.

He laughs as the blood coats you like a warm blanket.

Your vision begins to blur as you breathe out the forbidden words between you two and whisper, "I love you…"

 You when you finally do awake on your cabin's couch, your wounds are bandaged and the two victims are slumped over in a corner, presumably dead. Feitan meanwhile, is no where to be found.

He must have unsurprisingly ran off. Your fault really. You spooked him, like a deer fleeing from a warning shot. Should have known better than to get too close. Sometimes you just forget yourself though, you start to think of him as a mirror to yourself. Another monster thirsty for blood but seeking something more. But he isn't you. 

You roll off the couch as your stomach growls and you clutch your bandages as you stumble towards the kitchenette. The dove you had shot, waiting patiently for you to turn it into a meal. You recall one time when you had tried to cook dove for Feitan once before. He had just sneered at you, snapping "Don't you ever fucking eat normal food?"

You smile at the memory when you finally make your way to the kitchen table and sit down to eat. And proceed with the day like any other.

The world doesn't stop when Feitan leaves on his trips. You wake up, eat, shower, do your chores around the cabin and garden, hunt, check your traps, and find time to paint. 

Speaking of chores, after you dump your dirty dish into the sink, you set out on cleaning up the mess from the day before. As you leave the cabin you toss your gun sling over your back, figuring you might be able to shoot a few doves down in your downtime. Grabbing a wheelbarrow and shovel you push it towards your front door and begin to load up. You make a point to do these sort of chores in the morning, or else the smell starts to become too bad. 

You wheel your load past your garden and closer to the tree line. You grab your shovel and begin to dig. Birdsong serenades you as sweat beads on your forehead as you work. It has been unusually hot this time of year, normally summer would have already began to make way for autumn by this time past years. Which reminds you, you should probably try to down a few bucks before the end of the season this year. You don't want to be all out of food halfway through winter. Some deer could do you some good.

When you finally decide that the hole is deep enough, you drop your shovel and stretch. Cracking your back as you do so and letting out a yawn. After this you might just take a nap, you deserve it after all.

Turning back to the wheel barrow, you're finally ready. You loop your arms up under the corpse's armpits and pull him from the wheel barrow. He's a bit heavy and you nearly tip over as you drag him towards the hole. You curse yourself for letting him leave you with this part of the job time and time again. He's just like a little kid, refusing to put away his toys after playing. At the edge of the small pit you have the body off the edge and hear it drop to the bottom with a final thud.

You stare at the body in the hole. A bit disappointed, if you had to admit. The scene was just so un-picturesque. Of course, with you having to practically push after dragging, his nearly bloated corpse into the pit, didn't leave much room for the most graceful landing. His face is obscured by the soil that it's buried in, his hind quarters curled awkwardly towards the sky. More humiliating for the dead man than it is eye-catching to you. 

Oh well, time to dump the girlfriend in the pit.

Learning from your past mistakes, you grab the handles of the wheelbarrow in hopes that it would be easier to chuck the second body down the hole this way. After pushing it to the very edge of the pit, you are ready to lift the back end up, until you hear a quiet whimper break through the quiet sounds of nature surrounding you.

You stop cold in your tracks. 

She's still alive.

A strangled sob escapes her and your blood runs cold. This is a first. It's not like Feitan to leave any bodies breathing before leaving your cabin. " Help m-" she chokes on her words along with the blood she coughs up. What are you supposed to do? You're in broad daylight out in open, merely yards away from your cabin's garden. And you've never done this alone. She looks so much more frail with the sun reflecting on her pale sunken skin. When her clouded eyes meet yours, you all but keel over yourself. "You have to help me please."

Unable to break eye contact, you shake your head. "I can't." The woman looks almost ethereal, velvet red blood spilling over her violet bruised lips framed by skin so ghostly, it's practically translucent. As soon as you spoke, her brows knit themselves in distress. Her once comatose limbs rise out of the wheelbarrow like the undead breaking free from the earth. You stumble backwards, away from her as climbs out, you hastily grab your rifle from your back. "My boyfriend he-" on doe like legs she stumbles about looking around frantically until her eyes land on the pit. She drops to her knees. "No…"

You take a tentative step towards her, rifle still raised, as if she truly were a deer that you didn't want to scare off. She's crying, staring into the abyss of her late lover's grave. "What do I- he's gone. He's gone. What do I do?" She's in hysterics when she turns to you.

"Did you love him?" You don't know where the question comes from but it spills out of you none the less. You are met with a gaze you are unable to define. "I guess you could say, love someone too, " you tell her as you step closer to her. 

"Please, please help me." She begs once more. "If you- you say love someone so you- please I don't want to die." Weeping and barely comprehensible. You know what she's asking. She wants you to help her escape. She most likely believes that Feitan will return and make sure she shares her boyfriend's final resting place. And of course, she would need your help, there's no way she would be able to make it out of the forest herself, especially injured and lacking in supplies. 

Some might argue that it would be an act of mercy to allow death to take her instead, like a wounded deer needing to be put out of it's misery, instead of dropping her off at the nearest township.

You are also aware that if she were to ever make it out of these woods, the cabin would be compromised. Even if you were to swear, or scare, her to secrecy, there is no way she would not go seeking medical help, they would start asking questions. The most pressing being the whereabouts of her boyfriend. And that could lead to the authorities looking for Feitan. What if all of this lead to him not coming back to the cabin because he no longer saw it as safe anymore.

The barrel of the gun comes to rest in the middle of her forehead.

Realization hits her like a ton of bricks. Her blood and tear stained face contorts as she she shifts violently from the bargaining phase to anger. "No! You can't do this! You- you monster!"

A soft smile lands on your lips, "I know. But even monsters want to feel a connection." 

A blast rings through the forest. Birds flee from their trees and take to the sky. A corpse falls gracefully into its grave. And you are left with the image of the ethereal woman sprawled across their lover, the picture finally completed, made multitudes better as you stare down the hole at the ghastly image. It will make a lovely painting, you note to grab your sketchbook before night fall so you can capture the sight later.

For now, you take the handles of the wheelbarrow and turn it around, heading towards your cabin's modest garden. You can hear the mourning dove's song above you, as the birds have begun to return to the area after the gunshot rang out. 

The guilt that briefly weighed down your shoulders like a ton of bricks when you were first faced with killing the girl had passed now.You were able to rationalize it now. It was okay.

Sometimes, like doves, people were born to die.

YellowJewl

Summary:

For people that have been asking for a part two to sleeping with Spiders, I hope you're happy you little nasties. We're back and gorier than ever It's fucked, real fucked. But let's face it, a part of you always has been. Long before you met him. Maybe you were born a monster. But the thing is, even monsters crave a connection.

Notes:

If you are my friend please don't read this. It's not a reflection of who I am, just some horny fucked up shit I wrote. That being said, I'm a Feitan simp and the spirit of Halloween's wh*re possessed me to write this.

This first chapter is a bit of background for our Y/N, Feitan will return in ch.2, this is the same Y/N from sleeping with spiders

Chapter 1

You remember every year as the summer months transitioned into the cool, unforgiving autumns of your youth, your father and your older brother would leave to go on their annual three week hunting trip. As the only daughter you remained uninvited to the deer hunt every year, as your father fed you excuses like 'you're too young' or 'you have to stay home with your mother and the baby, keep em safe sweetheart' or this one's rich, 'it's just something for me and your brother, you wouldn't have any fun."

But lo and behold, after his tenth birthday, when the leaves began to brown on the trees, would you guess who was finally invited on your father's hunting trip? You all sat around the breakfast table, your little brother pokes at the runny egg that lays atop of his bowl of rice as your father tells him what fun the three of them are going to have. You have yet to say anything on the matter but, your older brother from across the breakfast table gives you a knowing look before he looks to your father and rolls his eyes. 

If you were more mature and a bit more empathic, you might feel the slightest bit of pity for your old man. All his life he wanted to be a hunter. A poacher hunter like his grandfather before him. Even learning the tiniest bit of nen in his youth, training his hardest before he was finally able to take the exam.

He failed three times.

Three years in a row, came and went before your mother, his long term girlfriend at the time, finally announced that she was pregnant and he was to give up this foolish endeavor and get a real job. He of course reluctantly agreed.

Still the man clung to his dream with a subtleness that your mother could never really call him out for. Whether it be keeping up with hunter news, signing your older brother up for endurance training in hopes that he could one day secretly show him nen, or dragging him off to the woods to hunt. The man had only this one escape from his dull life, and that was to push his dreams and aspirations onto his sons. Too bad for him that his eldest was a lazy pervert, banned from his university for harassment, and his youngest, a timid recluse who despised leaving the house. Both of them could give less of a shit about his dreams.

His oddball daughter, being you of course, wasn't even considered when it came to training whoever it would be to carry your fathers torch that in truth, he himself never never got to hold. And it wasn't as if you met any of your mother's expectations. You were just the quiet girl who never went anywhere without her sketchbook. Nothing special and always overlooked. Even at this moment.

"I'll go." You say as you stare straight at your father. He turns to look at you but swiftly turns away, uneasy under your gaze.

In his cowardice he can't even look you in the eyes as he rejects you. Instead he stares down at his breakfast as he says, "We've been over this, sweetheart. You wouldn't like it anyways. Camping outside, with the bugs, wouldn't you much rather stay at home with your mother?"

"No." You answer honestly and apparently a bit too quick for your mother's taste as she swats the back of your head and scolds you. Ignoring her, you continue on "You've always said I was too young or it was just a thing for you two" you say as you gesture between him and your older brother. "But now you're letting the brat go?" You receive another swat as your mother tells you not to call your brother names.

Your father opens his mouth to make his argument but your older brother cuts him off, "Come on dad, she really wants to go. Besides, with more people there, it'll take the pressure off Jr. here." He says as he ruffles your baby brother's hair beside him.

With a sigh, and despite the glare he was receiving from your mother, he finally relented and said, "Fine."

That is what brought you to the Fall you spent swaddled in a large camo jacket and an orange vest as your family was huddled up in a deer stand.

Your father lectures your little brother for the thousandth time about gun safety and how to hold the contraption. Your eldest brother looks like he's half asleep as he lazily chews on a strip of beef jerky. 

You kneel by the window of the deer stand, peering out towards the lush forest. Its once verdant green leaves were now far and few between as nature ran its course and gave way to the auburn reds and warm oranges of autumn. The air was crisp and the cold bit at your nose as your eyes grazed the picturesque landscape before you. As you stared out intently, a cool brown shade swept across your vision, a detail so small that you had almost missed it. You had spotted a deer through the thick brush of trees.

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn't expected to see one so soon. Quickly, with shaky hands you lift the rifle that up until then had been sitting useless in your hands. You steady it and take aim.

Meters away from your position in the stand, the deer stares back at you.

You feel a rush of adrenaline flow through you as your pulse begins to quicken and you can hear the blood pumping in and out of your vascular valves, in your ears. You're ready.

Your finger finds the trigger and you pull back the bolt that until now had been locked in place.

A shot rings out, breaking the silence of the forest and causing a cluster of birds to take flight and flee from a nearby tree. Your father's head whips around ready to scold you for taking a shot without permission.

You calmly wave him off, "I took a shot. It fell." You say with a shrug. Masking the raw excitement fueling you in the moment.

"What?" Your father asks in confusion.

 "It fell. Did I get it?" You answer back.

Your father sighs and looks at your little brother, who's chewing on a piece of jerky in his lap.

"You know how dangerous that could have been, don't you? If your mother heard about this-"

 "But I got it." You repeat, waiting for him to congratulate you.

You're not exactly sure why, but his expression softens a bit as he nods at you.

"Good job."

 The four of you trek out into the forest to retrieve your kill. It takes a bit before you finally smell the steely scent of blood fill the air. Your family is silent as you walk through the woods.Your older brother walks alongside you, his hand on your shoulder.

Your father walks behind, with your younger brother clinging to his leg.

Just as you reach what you think will be the young stag you had shot, your father stops dead in his tracks. You brother gasps, and you stare blankly ahead. Yes the deer you shot lay dead on the forest floor but not forty feet away is a horrific sight that will haunt your family for years. A corpse of a hunter leaning against a tree as five deer surround him, eating his remains.

The man has been shot through the head, and his face looks as though he's aged twenty five years in the past week.

You find yourself unable to look away.

His face is frozen in a rictus of pain as he leans against the tree, the five deer still tearing at his face.

Even as a child you knew that expression, and it would not be one you'd soon forget.

Your little brother begins to sob in fear. Your older brother wraps you in a hug in order to shield your eyes from the sight. But you keep looking at it. You don't want to look away.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." Your baby brother sobs as he buries his face in the crook of your dad's elbow, trying to hide from the gruesome reality.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." your father says to him but it is all white noise to you as you are ingulfed in the moment. You we're unable to tear your gaze away from the corpse, in fact you don't think you wanted to even if you could. The sight of the corpse became an almost religious experience. You didn't know it yet but, this is the day that would become a catalyst in your life. The day changed you forever, and the real you had begun to awaken from her slumber. 

You look back towards your family, who are now staring back at you, now noticing your intense gaze. You hear your father clear his throat uncomfortably and say, "We're heading back to the house."

_

Your mother had been understandably pissed. She forbade any future hunting trips as she sobbed about how her children were probably traumatized forever. You had never seen your mother that mad. Not even when you had broken your arm on the playground and it had been cast in plaster did she yell at you that way. She was practically seething, her shouting at your father made her voice hoarse and the sobbing she would resort to every ten words made her sound like a dying animal.

But you didn't really care all the much in the long run. Having made her lose her temper with you multiple times before, you figured the storm would pass. And so you three kids went to bed with the sound of your parents arguing in the background. Your older brother had cornered you in the hall later that night to tell you it wasn't your fault but you were pretty sure he had only said it to reassure himself. He wrapped you in one of his usual too tight hugs that always went on a bit too long and made you squirm uncomfortably before letting you go and giving you a solemn look.

Brushing the encounter off, you made your way to the robin egg blue painted room to tuck your little brother into bed. Jr. was abnormally quiet for the whole routine before you leaned down to kiss his forehead and wish him a goodnight. He shrunk back at your touch.

"Don't touch me." He said, spitting up at you.

You gasped at the action. Never before had he ever done any of the sort to anyone. The normally shy and docile boy had been so quick to judge. It had caught you off guard. Wiping the saliva off your face you take a deep breath and regain your composure. It had been a long day and you figured that you would give the kid room for error in such a turbulent time. You brush the hair out of his face, "It's going to be okay."

 "No!" He growled at you, "Youre a monster, someone was dead and you don't even care. You were excited, weren't you? I saw. I saw you."

 You smiled softly at him, pretending to ignore him, "I love you, little man. You know that?" 'I love you' had come to become the turn of phrase in your household that one would throw out when they were finished with uncomfortable discussions. A white flag thrown out onto the field to keep the peace. It didn't mean that you thought you were in the wrong it was only said to placate your opponent. Your little brother only looked at you in disgust.

All that to say that you truly did love him. You really did. You loved your entire family. But you knew that you were different and they might never understand. You were a monster. You were the devil. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

"I know you're scared, little man."

 "You're a monster." He repeats.

You didn't argue back. There was no point in it. Instead you held his hand and looked him straight in the eye. "I know. But even monsters want to feel a connection." You say before turning off his nightlight and leaving the room.

Eventually you would find your connection.

It wouldn't be human. It wouldn't be your family. It wouldn't be your friends.

But someone a lot like you.

You were a monster.

YellowJewl

Chapter 2: Lunch

Notes:

HEY! HEY! HEY! Here's a second chapter for you! Have fun!

"Akaaaaaaashiiiii!"

You freeze like a deer in the headlights. You almost drop your camera by the pure shock of hearing his voice. Why did this Akaashi guy have to be in the same class as you? Better question, why did this owl haired bozo have to burst into your classroom yelling like a maniac?

Lunch had just begun a couple of minutes ago, how did this guy make it all the way from the third year wing to the second year's already? You try to descreetly sneak a glance at your dark haired classmate who seems to be even more tired of his senpai's shit. But he says nothing to elude to that idea. Instead he simply responds, "Bokuto-san."

"Akaashi, come on! Come set for me, Akaashi!" Bokuto says as he bounces over to Akaashi's desk. You shrink down a bit in your chair, hoping that they would just hurry up and leave already so you can eat your convenience store bento in peace. 

"Oya?" Sadly, peace was never an option. "Picture girl? Is that you?" The horned owl haired boy asks tilting his head and making a bee line for your desk. "I didn't know you were in Akaashi's class. Awesome seeing you again."

"Yup… real sarendipitous." You sigh in defeat.

"Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah. Real sarendipitous!" He says to you before quickly turning to Akaashi to shoot him a thumbs up.

Impatiently you begin to fiddle with the buttons on your camera. Maybe if you don't say anything, he'll just go away. Bokuto however seems to once again defy your expectations. He sits down in the empty seat next to yours and scoots the whole desk closer to yours as he begins to chatter again, "Picture girl-"

"(L/N) (Y/N)" you remind him curtly

"Right, (L/N)," he nods as if rattling the marbles around in that empty head of his will help him remember. You rest your head on hour hand as you look your upperclassmen over. You can't believe a guy like this is your senpai. You can't believe somebody Akaashi would put up with him. Your classmate seems like a reasonable guy, how does he know this goofball? Have they been long time friends? Or just met in a club in highschool? Or did Bokuto also accidentally bump into Akaashi one day, and decide to hang around? Does Bokuto burst into this classroom often at lunch time, looking for his friend? How have you not noticed this boisterous bafoon before? You know that you're not the most perceptive person in the world but are you that oblivious? Ken-chan would've noticed. He's super perceptive, always noticing little details, you'd bet he'd make a great photographer. 

"So what do you say (L/N)!?" Bokuto asks excitedly.

What do you say to what? Oh crap, you totally zoned out. You didn't hear a word he said. Crap. Crap! Quick, play it off. Be cool, "Uh- um, what?". Real smooth.

"Bokuto-san, you're overwhelming her. Let's go, you said you wanted to spike some sets, right?" Akaashi says walking up to beside Bokuto, coming to your rescue.

"Aw, but I wanted (L/N) to take more pictures of me." Your senpai pouts as his shoulders fall.

"You did?" Didn't you already tell this guy that you are not some second rate, sit still, say cheese, and smile for the camera, portraiture photographer. What you do is totally different. It's art. "Bokuto I already told you I don't-"

"I remember. It just sucks that the only picture of me you got is when I'm looking away. Like you can barely see my face. It sucks."

What did he just say!? "It doesn't suck!" You protest as you start fidgeting with your camera, pulling up the picture. "Look! See here. The afternoon sun makes for a perfect light source, you can't fake that. And the composition of the piece as a whole is great, from the appearance of actual weight and stress being put on your forearm as you try to pick yourself up. And see as you rub your head and look like your saying something. But, oooh? What is it? We don't know. It just adds to the emotion of confusion that the photo just radiates. It's great." And you would know, you did take it after all.

The two boys in front of you just blink once your rant is finished. They seem a bit stunned but Bokuto recovers as he offers you a small smile, "you're right. It is. It'd still be pretty cool if you wanted to take more though. I just- Ooh! I got an idea why don't you get me while I'm spiking. It'd be like an action shot."

"Action shot?" You parrot, releasing the tension in your shoulders. The idea didn't actually sound horrible.

Akaashi rolls his eyes as he addresses his upperclassmen once more, "Bokuto-san I already told you, (L/N)-san d-"

"Sure, let's go." You say cutting him off. You adjust your camera strap around your neck as you rise from your seat and make your way to the door. "Well, are you coming?"

---

"I've never been to the gym before." You say as the two boys lead you inside.

"What!? Like ever? Not even for P.E.?" You're unsure if Bokuto sounds surprised or appalled.

"I don't do P.E., not since like middle school. I got a really good doctors note. My dad knows a guy." You tell him snickering under your breath. Bokuto continues to gask so you just shrug. You don't know what he expected. You don't do the whole sports thing. Ew, just thinking about the word sends shivers down your spine. Like for instance you have no idea what a spike is but from the sound of it, you are sure that it would break your bones.

"Okay so we gonna do this or what?" You ask impatiently. Bokuto nods eagerly and looks to Akaashi to grab a volleyball from the equipment room. With a quick glance at his watch and silently muttering under his breath, Akkashi does just that.

Whilst his friend is searching for a ball, the upperclassmen with the frosted tips slides in right up next to you. "So, (Y/N)?" You flinch slightly at the sudden use of your first name. You shoot a glare his way but he doesn't seem to notice as he begins to point his two pointer fingers towards each other, twiddling them in what you can assume is some show of shyness or possibly embarrassment. When he looks up at you with die eyes you nearly choke to death on your own oxygen. "Do you think um maybe I can get a copy of the picture? To keep, pretty please?" 

It's a simple request, but you are so taken aback by his behavior that you nearly fumble over your words, "Um, sure. Yeah. I mean I usually develop my film on Fridays in the dark room. If you'd like I can give them to you then un-unless you um- you would rather wait till Monday." You can't look him in eye. Those bright amber orbs are just too much, it's like looking direct at the sun. What does your senpai think he's trying to do to you?

"I got the ball." The sound of Akaashi's voice causes you to jump back, allowing you to realize just how close Bokuto had gotten to you when he was giving you that pleading look of his. Your classmate sends you a questioning look but doesn't say a word.

"Yes!" Bokuto shouts, pumping a fist in the air before shedding his uniform jacket and rushing towards the net, "You're gonna love this (Y/N)! Just watch!"

 "Okay. Okay. Just let me find a good angle. You say as you start to climb on some bleachers on squat down to begin focusing your camera. Once comfortable, you shoot a thumbs up towards the boys and they get into their own positions. You have to be honest. You know nothing about volleyball. You have no idea what setting or a spike is, so you don't really know what to expect here. But Bokuto promised action so you plan to capture some until lunch is over. 

You vaugely remember going to a baseball game when you were young. You're father was hired to take some shots of the team for a charity calendar they were doing, or something like that, and he had decided to bring you along. You had little interest in sports, still don't for that matter but, you do remember him telling you that your mother had played baseball when she was younger. And well, you liked that.

As your mind sways from one disconnected thought to another, your eyes lock onto the ball being sent into the air by the dark haired second year. This was it, you needed to be ready to take the shot fast. All the random thoughts that occupy your mind, along with the chaotic world around you fades. Your vision narrows and becomes what is confined to what your view finder allows. There is only you and the image that you are about to capture. You see Bokuto's feet leap off of the ground and you can feel your finger begin to press down on the shutter button and-

"(Y/N)-chan!"

And you fall off the bleacher that you were perched precariously on.

"(L/N)-san! Are you okay?" Akaashi rushes up to you as you lie on the floor of the gymnasium.

"Aaaahh! (Y/N)! What happened!? Akaashi, is she okay!?" Bokuto asks like you had lost a limb, tears welling up in his eyes.

You merely rub your head which you had bumped on the way down as fury fills your eyes. "Ando!" You bark at your aquaintance standing in the doorway of the gym, who had just caused you to fall down by shouting your name.

"Oh my goodness! I am so so sorry, (Y/N)-chan, I didn't mean to scare you, I've been looking for you everywhere and then I saw you in here and I-"

"Ando, you little cretin! You ruined my shot!"you you screech

"You just fell of the fourth row of bleachers and that's what you're mad about?" Akaashi quirks an eyebrow at you.

You turn your glare to him and are fully prepared to start ranting to him for disrespect for the art form when Bokuto panickedly asks, "wait! Does that mean you didn't see my spike?" When you shake your head, he looks as dejected as you feel about missing your shot.

Ando rushes to your side and helps you off the ground, "I'm so, so sorry I-" she stops short when her eyes catch sight of Bokuto, "I- I- I- You- You're-"

"Use your words Ando," you tell her

"You're our senpai!" She finally spits out before bowing her head. You internally groan. That's the thing about Ando, she's way to polite and cares way to much about the dumb heirarchy system that schools have. She's always letting her senpai's in the art club walk all over her, it would be pathetic if those pompous, self-centered, jerks didn't infuriate you so much. "Please forgive us senpai. My friend and I didn't mean to bother you or anything." Friend? Really? "I'm sorry if she came in here and bugged you into taking pictures or said anything mean. I know she can seem rude sometimes but I swear she's actually really sweet."

You can't help but snort at that last bit, "Friend? Sweet? Woah, never took you for a liar. I don't think there are many people who would call me sweet." You say smirking

Ando puffs out her cheeks and pouts before letting out a sigh, "(Y/N)-chan, please just apologize for badgering our upperclassmen…"

"But I didn't do anything wrong this time."

"(Y/N)-chan" she squeaks out as a warning

Pfft. Whatever mom. "... Sorry Bokuto, Akaa-" she cuts you off with an elbow to the side and a look. You start over, "Please forgive me Bokuto-senpai, Akaashi-san."

"Oh, it's okay really. She wasn't bothering us. I actually asked her to come take pictures." Bokuto tells her.

"You did?"

"I know, wild right?" You say dryly.

"Oh… then I'm deeply sorry for assuming." She says bowing her head once more

"Hey hey, it's cool really." Bokuto tells her a bit uncomfortably.

"Why were you looking for me anyway, Ando?" You ask her

"Oh um well, this morning you said you'd come to the art club's lunch meeting today… I thought that you may have, um gotten lost again."

"Oh I forgot, sorry- Hey! I don't get lost that often." You say in defense

"You kinda do…"

Before you can say anything else in your own defense, the bell that signifies the end of lunch rings. 

You three second years begin to leave when you suddenly hear Bokuto calling after you, "Wait up, (Y/N)-chan." Oh, so it's (Y/N)-chan now? Getting a little comfortable there, aren't ya senpai? "Er, I was thinking since you didn't get to see me spike, maybe you can come to practice one day. If you wanna. Do you wanna? It'll be fun, I swear!" 

YellowJewl

Summary:

You didn't need to interact with people. You were perfectly content with observing life from behind your camera. That was until he came along. After meeting Bokuto, everything seemed to change for you. You seemed to change. But do you have enough courage to live a life that's not confined to behind a lens?

Notes:

This is my first haikyuu work, I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 1: Ants

For as long as you could remember, you had a camera on you. It was like it was a part of you, another limb. You never felt more comfortable than when the leather strap of your old camera, that your father had gifted you, was slung around your neck as the device was perched delicately on your fingertips. 

Photography was everything to you. Your father described photography to be as natural as speaking, a powerful language which speaks to our emotions. It allows us to tell our story and show others our framing of the world around us. It allowed the photographer to express joy and sorrow, wonder and sympathy. Every human emotion can find a place in photography.

It was an outlet.

You were never too good at voicing your emotions. You were a quiet child, still are really, as all the other children ran around and shouted and played, you would sit on the cool cement and watch. Interaction was highly overrated. Watching was a lot more enjoyable. If you were to actually interact and 'play' with the other kids then you might miss something exceptional. Like the look of unbridled joy on a classmate's face as they slid down the slide or swung on the swing set. Any interference could ruin such a sight, if you were to interact, who's to say that you would actually get to see that smile for real? It could become distorted and forced into something fake by your presence alone.

And so you preferred to stay an observer, taking mental snapshots of the world around you. That was until you were given your first camera. Your father was a photographer and some of your best memories growing up was spending time with him in the darkroom. A darkroom is used to process photographic film, to make prints and to carry out other associated tasks. It is a room that can be made completely dark to allow the processing of the light-sensitive photographic materials, including film and photographic paper. It was there that the language of photography came to life and where your dad gave you your first camera on your twelve birthday. 

After that you took it everywhere with you, to dinner, camping, school. You were never seen without it. Finally you could capture the exceptional moments in time, you could make art from the click of a button. Your classmates however…

It wasn't like your classmates were rude about your hobby. It was more like they just didn't understand. It was like they thought it was a game or toy, just something to mess around with, constantly begging you to take pictures of them. And in the beginning you obliged, but whenever the film developed you couldn't shake how fake everyone looked in the pictures they had posed for.

And so you began to decline to take pictures of your fellow middle schoolers. At least when they were looking. You found yourself enjoying the candid photos you took much more. It became all about capturing the unplanned moments. You were an observer once more, a fly on the wall, allowing things to play out naturally with your shutter button clicking along the way. This way, a photo became what it was always meant to be, honest, full of life and emotion.

It was your second year at Fukurodani Academy and you were still trying to capture those honest moments. That's probably what brought you to this moment right here, laying on your stomach, in your school uniform, on top of the asphalt ground as you snap pictures of ants attacking a discarded lollipop. Ah, nature at it's finest. It may take hours, days maybe but those ants will devour the candy until there's nothing left or someone picks up the trash and throws it away. You gotta admire that, they never give up.

As you are engulfed in your subject matter, you hardly hear the heavy footfalls quickly approaching. But you do feel the larger loafer kick into your side just before its owner is sent toppling over you and lands flat on his bottom.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you snap your head over to the student who tripped over you and see just how disheveled he looks. He's still sitting on the ground, his legs parted from the fall he took and one of his arms behind him supporting his weight as the other rubs his head. His uniform is messy, his tie loose and the knees of his dress pants scuffed from the tumble he just took. You spot a few sweat beads on his face probably due to the running he was doing just before colliding into you, his hair though remains intact, you suspect the amount of gel he used to spike up his hair is thanks to that.

Huh, you know it's funny but his hair kind of makes him look like a horned owl.

"Ah crap, I'm already late. Akaashi is gonna kill me" he says as he rubs his head, still somehow unaware of your presence. You take the opportunity to quickly roll over onto your side and snap a picture of the disheveled student, before quickly rolling back onto your stomach and back to your ants.

"Hey, did you just take a picture of me?" You hear the boy ask causing your body to stiffen. Most people don't normally appreciate you taking pictures of them without their consent, they think it's weird and have a tendency to get angry. You wince as your gaze stays hyper fixated on the insects in front of you as you try to avoid eye contact with the boy.

"Uh, yes?" You answer.

"Oh, cool. Can I see?" He asks, his tone much more excited than you thought it'd be. You turn to look at him and are surprised to see him right next to you, lying in the exact same position that you are.

"Sure…" you answer, trepidatious of this new stranger. You fumble with your camera before showing him the screen.

"Hey hey hey. This is pretty good, sucks that I'm not even smiling or looking at the camera though." He says, a goofy grin on his face before he passes the camera back to you.

You shrug, "I think it looks better this way… looks more real."

"Hmmm… I guess your right."  He says as he crosses his arms to rest his head on them. "It was a pretty good picture. Is that something you're into? Taking pictures?"

You find yourself a bit uncomfortable at how genuinely interested he sounds. People aren't usually this interested. "Yeah." You respond curtly.

"That's awesome. Oh, I'm Bokuto Koutarou, third year, captain of the volleyball club. Don't know but, you might've heard of me." He says with a proud, boisterous smile as he offers his hand for you to shake it.

You simply shake your head. You haven't. He seems to deflate a bit at that but brightens up a bit when you take his hand to shake it. "(L/N) (Y/N), second year. I guess you could call me the captain of the photography club but, we don't have one, so I mostly just hang around and bother the art club kids so I can use their dark room."

You fall back into silence as you once again begin watching the ants. Bokuto hums to himself as he turns to see what exactly you are watching so intently. The ants continue to attack the piece of candy with great fervor and even seemed to call in reinforcements. Hundreds, maybe even more surround the lollipop. It's odd, even though they're working together, it looks like utter chaos. You snap a picture.

"Wow! They're really going at it. Do ya think they'll be able to get it all?" He asks, sounding genuinely excited.

You let out a long hum, before finally nodding, "yeah. Eventually." Then the two of you go back to watching the ants.

"Why don't you just start a photography club? You seem pretty into it, I'm sure other people will join." He says earnestly with that same bright smile of his.

You cocked your head at him in confusion. Why was this guy so interested, and why was he just talking so casually with you? He didn't even know you. Honestly, sometimes people just confused you in general. They were unpredictable, and yes that could be a beautiful thing but, you preferred to enjoy that marvelous unpredictability from a distance. But you suppose that you can humor this Bokuto guy just this once, it's not like you'd have to interact with him after this. "I tried to start one during my first year but no one was really interested." You tell him with a lazy shrug of your shoulders.

"Bleh, that sucks. I think you should still try, if you ever nee-" Bokuto is cut off by the call of his own name, causing you both to look up towards the direction in which it was coming from.

"Bokuto-san!" You find yourself vaguely familiar with the owner of the voice. You recognize him as a boy from your class, but he seems to be dressed in some sort of sports gear. Didn't Bokuto say something about being captain of the volleyball club? Maybe they're on it together. As your classmate approaches the two of you, you notice him squint his eyes at the sight before him. "Bokuto-san, why are you lying on the ground in your school uniform?"

Self-consciously you shrink down a bit lower to the ground, your grip tightening on your camera. "Hey hey hey! Akaashi! Come meet my new friend!" The owl haired boy cheers.

The Akaashi boy spares you a glance before turning his glare back to Bokuto, "Bokuto-san, leave that poor girl alone and get to the clubroom and get changed. You're already late for practice."

 Bokuto lets out a groan as he mopily picks himself up off the ground. He looks sort of sad. Actually, it looks like his mood took a whole 180 from his earlier excited disposition. Even his hair looks like it's sad. It's kinda cute to be honest.

You let out a sigh as you sit up. Deciding to be polite, you give the captain a small wave, "Bye, Bokuto. It was nice meeting you."

Hearing your words causes the boy to perk up instantly, "Oh? Oh, yeah! Nice meeting you! Later, (L/N)!" As the third year sets off, Akaashi glances back at you, looking you over. You respond with an apathetic gaze of your own, accompanied by a lazy peace sign. He responds with a small head nod of acknowledgment before turning to leave.

Finally alone, you let out a sigh of relief before you throw your body back onto the concrete underneath you. That was a deviant from the norm. What an odd guy that third year was. You close your eyes as you let the sun shine upon your cheeks, yawning as the warmth of the day envelopes you. Talking to strangers is sort of tiring. Maybe resting your eyes for a bit will be fine. 

---

"(Y/N)-chan?... Um, (Y/N)-chan? I um, I think you should probably wake up now…", you wince as the sun peeks through your lashes and momentarily blinds you with it's searing light. You groan and sit up so you can glare at the person who woke you up. 

Ando Mei, a second year, class 3. You wouldn't say that you're friends. You make it a point not to have friends. She's more of a very close acquaintance. The two of you live close to each other so you wait until she's done with the art club to walk home with her. Only because you don't like walking alone.

"Why were you sleeping on the ground anyways." She asks as she helps pull you up and off the ground. You scrunch up your nose and flick an ant off your cheek. Gross. 

"Some third year stepped on me." You say simply as the two of you begin to walk towards the gates. The look she gives you is flabbergasted but you can tell she's debating on asking you to elaborate. "Anyways all that 'excitement' tired me out so I thought I'd take a nap."

"Oh, (Y/N). You know you are always welcome in the club room, even if it's just to take a nap."

You shrug, "it's whatever. I was already out here taking pictures."

She just smiles softly. "Okay." She grabs hold of your hand as the two of you reach the intersection, "You ready to go home?"

You give a small nod as you squeeze her hand, "sure."

Being home is nice. You'd prefer for your father to be home when you get there but that's always a fifty fifty chance of happening. You get it though, work is work. If you're ever too lonely, you just log online.

Applepi : finally ur logged on.

Applepi : thought we were going to have to play without you.

Goodpic : srry ken-chan, I fell asleep.

Applepi : relatable.

Applepi : turn on ur mic if we're going to talk, I'm not typing the whole game.

Goodpic : kk.

Applepi, or Ken-chan as you so adoringly refer to him as, is another acquaintance of yours. You two met in a discord of a streamer that you both liked and just kinda clicked. He's probably the only person, besides your dad, that you act this familiar with but, you attribute that to the fact that you two only interact through a screen.

"Alrighty you ready to lane Ken-chan?" You ask as you adjust your headset.

"You ready to stop asking dumb questions?" You can hear him give a dry chuckle as the two of you begin to play.

Ken-chan is good. He's a better gamer than you, that's for sure. You think that annoys him sometimes but he never says anything about it. Instead he praises you for your more interesting decisions you make while duo queuing. And if he wasn't as blunt as you, you'd be sure that he was just being polite.

"You're off today." You hear him say, "Usually you're much more energetic when we jungle. What's up?" 

"Ants." You say simply, biting your cheek.

"Ants?"

You let out a sigh, "I was photographing ants today and some jock tripped over me."

"Sounds fun." He responds dryly.

"I guess it was sorta interesting. He actually ended up lying on the ground with me as we watched the ants."

You hear him laugh to himself, "really? Heh, must be your soulmate."

His words cause you to let out a snort as you try to suppress your laughter, "that's funny Ken-chan. But, doubtful."

"I don't know tsuntsun, you already said that ant boy fell for you." You can practically hear his cheeky grin through his mic.

"Bleh!" You spat as you stick out your tongue. "Oh please, you already know that only humans are capable of such fickle emotions like affection. Besides, you're the only boy for me Ken-chan." You say putting on a sickening sweet voice.

"Gross."

Feitan does not like giving out compliments. So much so that you've grown used to the smart ass remarks and little insults wat he would throw wat you. At this point you find them to be terms of endearment. But there are times in the quiet moments when he'll tell you little things in his first language. Knowing that you won't understand what he's saying, he'll whisper compliments to you and watch your nose scrunch up in confusion as you pester him to tell you what he said.

YellowJewl

Chapter 2

Notes:

!!!!!!SMUT AND GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AHEAD!!!!!

You were all packed and ready to catch your train hours before it would even arrive at the station. It was just about 2:40 AM and nerves alone had you up and walking the city streets. You quit quite a bit ago but you would have killed for a smoke right about now. Were you restless about such a big move? You don't know why but something in the pit of your stomach was telling you that  something was wrong.

When you neared the gallery, that feeling grew stronger. Looking down at your phone, it was already three. The witching hour. You started to walk faster towards the gallery, you knew something was happening. And at closer inspection you were right. The front windows were shattered, someone had broken in. 

Your work. All of your work is in there.

Without giving it a second thought, you climb through the broken window. It's dark inside and you can barely see a thing. You can't help but wonder what you are even doing here. Did you think you were going to fight off the intruders on your own? Fat chance. Why didn't you just call the police? The police! That's right! You sink to your knees and begin to fumble for your phone but freeze dead in your tracks as soon as you hear voices.

"Damn Feitan. You couldn't have picked a smaller picture to steal?"

"I like this one."

"Wish Shizuku was here with that vacuum. It would make this a whole hell of a lot easier." 

"Stop complaining, crybaby."

That voice, it sounds familiar. Hesitantly you rise to your feet to grab a better look at the burglars. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The words fall from your mouth as your jaw hangs slack. You immediately recognize the shorter of the two men. Though he has traded in his suit for long black robes, you easily recognize the pretty pale face peeking out of the large scarf he's using to conceal it.

At the sound of your voice the men freeze. The taller looks to his short friend, who at this point just looks exasperated. But now, you're angry. "Seriously dude? I offer to make you a piece and you turn around and steal my art? What the hell? Did you really not want to pay for it that badly?"

The man looks to his partner and says, "Phinks, take the painting. I'll take care of this." You must have blinked because before you know it he has you pinned against the wall and a knife to your throat. He's fast, real fast, and despite being so small, he's really strong. He has your hands pinned above your head and seems intent on not giving you an inch of leeway. His blade tickles your throat as he runs it across your skin. He's toying with you.

"What? Are you really going to kill me now?" You growl through gritted teeth. 

 "Yes." He says, not missing a beat. A devilish smile slithers onto his lips as he drags his knife down from your neck, across your body and finally stopping at your abdomen, "I want to have fun first." He plunges the knife into you. A gasp leaves your lungs as the stinging sensation rushes through you, you quickly clench your teeth to avoid giving him any satisfaction.

"Don't do that." He orders as he slaps the side of your face. "It's no fun if you don't scream for mercy."

He's a damn sadist, you should've guessed. He would have killed you by now if he wasn't. Stringing it out like this, its torture. He twists the knife still inside of you and you bite down on your bottom lip to stop a whimper from tumbling out of you. "Scream." He repeats.

You glare into those cold eyes of his, your face a crimson red, and you spit in his face, "Make m-"

He grabs your jaw pulling your face towards him so you are eye to eye, "Stupid girl, do you really want your last words to be 'make me'?" In one fail swoop he pulls the knife from your gut and slashes across your chest. The blade tears your shirt and you can see the red beginning to stain the tattered cloth from beneath. Your chest begins to rise and fall in fractic beats as your breathing becomes ragged. You were covered in blood from the chest down, though the cut on your chest was shallow, the wound in your stomach was deep but you could hardly feel it due to the adrenaline pulsing through your veins. If he didn't kill you first, you were sure that your heart exploding in your chest, surely would. 

It's a bit odd. You weren't afraid. Or as afraid as you know you should be. You could die at any second and yet instead of fear, you feel…

The blade shoots across your vision like a falling star in the night sky. Swift and sharp. You have no time to even brace yourself for the imminent impact. When the knife plunges into your shoulder, you are no longer able to hold back the noise that rips through your throat.

He stares at you, wide eyed for a millisecond before his brows furrow and his eyes are narrowed and fixed on you.

"You moaned?"

If your face hadn't been beet red before, it is now. The utter embarrassment rushing through you somehow makes you completely forget about the knife sticking out of you at this very second. "No I did not!"

His look of speculation quickly turns smug. "Did too, slut."

"Shut the hell up!"

"I should have known a freak like you would get off on this."

"A freak like me!? You're the sadistic bastard using me like a pin cushion."

"And you're real mouthy for someone going to die." You watch as he takes a finger and pokes at your wound. With his finger painted red, he raises it to your lips, "Clean it."

"Fuck you." You hiss.

"You really want to, huh?" His grip on your hands has loosened a bit and he looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. You watch as he takes the bloody finger poised at your mouth and raises it to his own where he gives it a soft kitten lick. That thing that's been stirring inside you, that lack of fear, it's clawing to get out. Screaming to see the light of day. You're unsure of what to call it exactly, excitement, arousal, malice,  insatiable greed? All you knew was that seeing your blood stain his lips like rouge made you crave all the things that everyone always told you to push down deep inside, to ignore. 

You wanted him. You wanted his flesh, his blood, and his bone. You wanted him to want your's. You wanted him to mutilate your body with his blade and allow you to do so in turn. You wanted to paint the sky red with blood, yours and his, intertwining into the most vile shades of crimson. And you knew that to want all this, you must be sick. But that didn't matter, because all you really wanted was for him to rail you.

Your hands now free, you toss your arms around the man's neck and dive in towards his lips. Your mouth captures his in the most violent kiss. To describe it as passionate would be too simple, it was raw and hungry. You were two starved wolves fighting over the same scrap of meat. 

When you finally break away for air, he still has your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it, so hard that he draws blood. When he does finally release you and take a step back, you find his usual narrowed glare has fallen into a lustful gaze as his eyes trail up and down your body. 

Starving for more you are already pulling at the bottom hem of your shirt to pull it off and disrobe. You're stopped though as the fabric gets caught on the knife jutting out of your shoulder. "Shit!" You wine.

"Here. I'll get it." He says as he reaches for the weapon and quickly unsheathes it from you. You whimper with pleasure. A light chuckle escapes him as he mutters, "slut."

You groan in annoyance as well as impatience as you start to pull at his robes, trying to undress him as well, "could you just shut up and fuck me already." When you accomplish your task of leaving him exposed from the waist up you gawk at what you had just revealed. He's fucking hot. This guy not only looks good in a suit but also has abs and is a murderous psychopath!? All God gave you was the ability to draw, and mental illness. What the hell!?

You're running  your hands up his chest taking in the view when his hands grip your ass and you're thrown back against the wall once more, this time with him holding you. He bunches up your skirt around your waist so you're properly exposed as he reaches towards his pants and pulls out his dick.

He doesn't bother taking off your underwear or even pushing them to the side instead he decides to approach the problem head on and ram his member into you. Your panties, already soaking wet from earlier, do their best to fend him off but ultimately fail and move themselves to the side as he pistons himself toward your entrance. While he sinks within you, your head drops to the crook of his neck, with a sharp inhale, you breathe in his aroma mixed with the stench of blood. It's an intoxicating smell. You test your luck and lick the side of his neck, not receiving any immediate criticism you decide to suck and bite on the flesh, leaving your mark on him. You resume your attack on his soft skin, leaving a menagerie of bruises and hickeys on him. Beneath you, a groan rattles from the man's throat, making you blush from the indirect praise.

He slides in and out of you with reckless abandonment with unprecedented speed. The moments he pauses and pulls out are the most agonizing. When he finally drives his shaft back inside of you,  it slams against a spot that makes vision darken and your mind numb. You let out a howl of pleasure as he relentlessly pounds into you, over and over again. With every movement you're slammed into the wall again, the cheap gallery wall paper rubbing your back and ass raw. 

"Fuck. Oh fuck yes! Please- Fuuuugh-"

"Do you ever shut up? You moan like a bitch in heat." He scoffs as you let out a string of curses with every movement of his hips.

"Thou- thought you wanted me to scream." You sneer as you dig your nails into back as you let out another moan.

"Yeah. My name."

"And what's your- oh Shit! Shit! Oh fuck yeah! What's your name? What's your name?" 

"F-Feitan. F- you- you real tight." He mutters something between ragged breaths in a language you don't understand. 

You let out a chuckle, "Who's the bitch now? Ow! Oh yes, Fei Feitan! Right there! Right-" you're in absolute bliss. You feel like you could die at any second and yet, you have never felt more alive. You wistfully reach for one of his hands and place it on your throat. He understands instantly as he holds your neck in a vice grip and begins to speed up his thrusts. 

His beautiful raven locks now stick to his face, wet with sweat. His once ghostly pale face is tinted red, starkly contrasting your own which is quickly turning blue due to asphyxiation. 

"Fei- tan." You choke out. You are so close. Your body begins shaking violently and you can feel your insides tighten as he hammers into you before his pace begins to kilter off. You let out a scream, then you go limp and you're left feeling fuller thsn you have felt in a long time.

The night is silent, the only sound to be heard is the heavy ragged breaths of the two of you coming down from your high. Feitan  lets go of your limp body and you slink to the ground with a thud. He runs a hand through his inky mop and immediately begins looking for his robes.  

You watch him go about his business and are hit with a sudden pang of pain. You crumple to the floor as you clutch the wound on your stomach. Your shoulder is pulsing with pain as well from its stab wound. It seems that since the adrenaline has worn off you are much more aware of the seering pain.

"You should apply pressure to that.  Or you'll bleed to death." He says, looking down at you. 

"So what? Decided not to kill me? Was the pussy that good?" You taunt from your place on the ground. He doesn't answer, istead he's back to giving you those silent, narrowed looks. You try to flash a smile but only suceed in coughing up blood.

When you look up again a hand is outstretched towards you. You gingerly take it as he helps you to your feet. "You still going to paint for me?"

"... Sure, but you owe me a movie."