#Consider he actually told whoever was fronting and followed him on your main to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratkook · 4 years

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sick entertainment. (m) kth

pairing. hitman!taehyung x hitman!reader genre. smut, pwp warnings. mentions of guns, slight depictions of violence/murder, they’re both hitmen please don’t read if whats mentioned is triggering, they make some dark jokes (they’re sick okay lmao) smut in forms of: oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, dirty talk but its all playful despite it all hehe word count. 6.3k note. this is a request based off #85 off this prompt list (now closed) thank you for sending this in! 🖤 also uh….this may become a series, in which case, consider this a saucy prologue that gives you a glimpse into tae/oc’s...interesting... relationship

The slamming of the door makes Taehyung cock his eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across his face as he mindlessly watches the television, his ears listening to the way your feet stomp on the concrete floors of the loft, no doubt a trail of fire following your path. A laugh is begging to make its way out of him, chest trembling from holding it in because he knows he’s in deep shit, he’d known it the second he had interfered.

Blame it on his playful personality, or maybe his need of meddling in business that very clearly wasn’t his, either way the second he heard the name of the next target you were assigned he knew he had to make a game out of it. Is it sick, or twisted? Maybe, but the man was a well known scumbag, a slimey wannabe mobster that has far too many hits out for him it’s a shock he still has a pulse, well had considering you were back now.

Like every single assignment, he knew this one wouldn’t be missed, wouldn’t even have a news report made on him. It was the main reason why you were able to get away with it all, despite the police showing up for investigations whenever any unlucky bystander stumbled upon their body, they never seemed to dive deeper into who did it. They didn’t have to, they weren’t stupid, knowing not to bite the hand that fed them.

As long as they continued to get a small portion of cash funneled into their department and you all continued to wipe out the low lives that made their job so hard, then there really was no crime committed.

Namjoon called it transactional, but Taehyung called it boring. He liked it messy, enjoyed the thrill of it all, the possibility of not getting away with it, and with the help of police it took that all away from him.

You knew he was up to no good, the gleam in his eyes when you had mentioned who you were hitting next spelled it out for you. Knowing Taehyung like the back of your hand made you wary, accustomed to the way his brain worked like a minefield, he was someone you had to watch from a distance and analyze before deciding your next move.

“Welcome home honey.” Taehyung sings out playfully when he senses you getting closer, that same smile plastered on his face as he turns to face you, only getting wider when he notices the shiny black gun in your palm, one that actually belonged to him. It wasn’t your usual choice, something you no doubt swiped from its hiding spot when you came in, but you couldn’t exactly conceal the sniper you had used an hour prior enough to make it undetected in your hands on your way to your apartment.

He knew it was currently disassembled and tucked into your backpack as you chucked it aside and marched your way over to him, hand clenched around the grip of his Ruger with murder so evident in your eyes. Taehyung doesn’t think you’ve ever looked cuter, even as you raise it up towards his chest once you close the distance between you.

“You’re on thin ice Taehyung,” you laugh as you round the couch, standing directly in front of his sitting form, still casually sunken against the cushions as if you weren’t aiming for his heart. “You really think Namjoon’s going to let you come back if I tell him you’re playing games with my targets?”

Your boyfriend sighs at that, a roll of his eyes being sent your way as he drops his head to rest along the back of the couch with a groan. He didn’t need you to remind him of his current standing with Namjoon, knowing fully well that he had crossed a line by smashing that random man’s face into the fancy bar counter for simply looking at you. It wasn’t fair really, had he taken the time to get to know the guy he would have realized just how high up that random man was in terms of connections, but Taehyung could blame his tunnel vision for cutting the introductions short.

Like you said, his brain was a minefield, one wrong step was all it took before his fingers were tangling into the poor man’s hair and connecting his face with the wooden counter. He wasn’t even sure what set him off, the edges of his sight blurring together as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, pulling out the small gun he always had tucked away with him, pressing the muzzle against his temple and laughing maniacally as the man tried to pry his hands off of him.

He liked to keep things exciting, but unfortunately for him that excitement ended up costing Namjoon far too much in order to keep Taehyung from being thrown into jail, which would have arguably been a lot better than being stuck on what could be considered probation, no longer able to work unless Namjoon deemed it acceptable.

“Children shouldn’t play with guns.” Taehyung mocks, hoping to distract you while his eyes stayed glued to the end of the barrel, following it as you inched it closer with a wicked smile on your face. He knew he was on thin ice, nearly ruining your shot, potentially resulting in the target escaping because of his stupid game. That wasn’t too big of an issue, the chase made it fun some times, but considering this target had a bigger money sign tacked onto their back there would be no way you could let a fuck up slide.

He smiles still, lips curling up and showing his teeth as he focuses on your face now, seeing the way you look at him. You had those crazy eyes he loved to see, full of adrenaline, body still buzzing from earlier, analyzing his every move as you tuck the end of the cold barrel under his chin and slowly cock the safety back with a soft click.

“Who said I was playing?”

The small flash of excitement sparks in his eyes as you dig the muzzle into his skin, his mouth dropping open as he breathes out a laugh, his large palm coming to clutch around your own, urging the gun further into his skin.

“Do it,” he taunts, guiding your fingers to slide over the trigger, floating off of it as you observe him.

“I should’ve done it the second I saw you leaving that bastards apartment” you threaten, remembering the rage you had felt when you witnessed your boyfriend exit the complex and look directly up at the building across from him, knowing you would be perched on the ledge with your gun aimed at the window as you waited. The childlike wave he had sent you from the ground made you want to change your aim towards him, the urge to pull the trigger only increasing when he sent you a simple text telling you to enjoy the chase.

That was the first push of the domino that sent everything collapsing and as you peeked through the window and saw your target frantically packing a bag as he looked around you couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance from flaring inside of you. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out that Taehyung had notified him that his head was on the line and now he was going to try to run.

It was supposed to be a clean job, it was the main reason you preferred to use a sniper instead of the slightly more intimate methods used by the others, all you had to do was disassemble your Sako and get yourself off whatever ledge you were on and that was it, job completed. Anticipating a chase was not something you thought would happen today but the second he began to shove clothes into some random bag you knew you were losing your window of opportunity.

“How far did he get?” Taehyung laughs, eyes full of mischief as you glare at him, that tiny smirk on your face giving you away, showing him just how amused you were at his antics despite the gun pressed against his skin

“The stairwell.” You knew the layout of his building well enough to know exactly what exit route he would take, beginning the chase Taehyung had been so eager to start. Having to get down from your spot and somehow beat him before he left his apartment was too far fetched, but catching him before he exited the complex completely was the only thing that kept you from admitting defeat.

Your heart continues to rapidly beat in your chest as you recall it, how your lungs had burned as you took the stairs two at a time once you managed to get inside the complex, nearly ramming into your target as he rounded the stairwell in his haste to leave undetected.

Had it not been for his already set paranoia he would have simply shoved you aside, not expecting a girl to be the one in charge of taking him out, but the second he spots the unhinged look in your face, the way your eyes glimmer when you realize you caught him, he knows it's too late to run. Thankfully for you, he accepted his fate pretty easily after that.

“Did you leave a mess?”

“I couldn’t use my Sako you asshole.”

Taehyung laughs freely now, his other hand coming to scoop around your waist and pull you closer, your thighs slotting between his. If you couldn’t use your precious Sako he knew you were pissed, hence the gun to his throat. There was nothing you hated more than having to come in close contact with whoever you were meant to kill, you weren’t a fan of the bargaining they tried to make with you, not particularly enjoying seeing their face as you pressed the suppressor of your Beretta between their eyes before you pulled the trigger.

“Is that why you’re so trigger happy right now?” He’s taunting you, biting his lip as he smiles up at you, eyes widening slightly as you gingerly place your finger on the trigger. “C’mon, teach me a lesson. Shoot me.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

The second the last word leaves his mouth, your finger presses down on the trigger, the brief moment of shock is painted across his face when he hears the click, eyes squinting when he expects the searing pain that was sure to follow but it never came. In a blink of an eye his hands are expertly releasing the magazine of his Ruger, letting it fall into his grip as he brings it close to really check to see that it was in fact empty, something you no doubt did the second you entered the loft.

Your joyous laughter fills the air instantly, dropping the gun from its position as you lose yourself in the giggles that escape you. “You should have seen your face.”

Taehyung continues to stare at the empty magazine, looking up at you incredulously, the beginning of a smile once again gracing his face at the pure shock that you actually pulled the trigger. “You were gonna fucking shoot me.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever shoot you–“

“You have!” He remarks, snatching the gun from your grasp and sliding the magazine back into place, remembering the time you gave him a warning shot to the shoulder the last time he tried to meddle in your business. Sure you might have just grazed his skin but a trigger was still pulled.

Taehyung chuckles when you plop onto the couch next to him, body still trembling with laughter as you wipe underneath your eyes for any stray tears. “Don’t tell me to shoot you if you don’t actually want me to”

“You’re a psycho,” he jests, tossing the gun safely aside as he faces you, seeing the oh so innocent smile on your lips.

“Don’t act so surprised.” He’s not, knowing you were two peas in a pod, just the right amount of crazy to level each other out, if any more was added to either of you there would no doubt be actual shots fired. It worked though, a nice balance between you that allowed the relationship to go on as long as it has.

“You’d never actually do it,” he sighs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, smug with the fact that you would never actually hurt him. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Would I?” A teasing laugh fills the air as your hand glides up his chest, fingers trailing towards his neck until they curl around his skin, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. When your fingers tighten around his neck he chuckles, the vibrations felt against your palm.

The arm slung around your shoulder slides down to your back, scooping you over until you’re settling onto his thighs in his favorite position, a mischievous glint to his eyes flashing when you look at him. “You definitely would baby, who else would be here to drive you crazy like I do?” His deep voice pulls you in, dripping from his tongue in a manner that makes you want to lean forward and savor every drop.

“Should we find out?”

Taehyung just drops his head back once more, a cynical lift to his lips when you bring up your second hand to wrap around his thick neck, fingers digging further into his skin. “Please, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’re sick,” you laugh out, squealing when his hands tighten their grip around your waist, his head leveling out as he stares at you with that same glint in his eyes.

“I know I am, but you like it.” A gasp leaves your mouth as he slides you further up his lap, clothed core pressing into the slowly growing bulge in his pants. “Don’t act like I forgot the little stunt you pulled this morning.”

Flashes of this morning play in your mind, the way you had teased him the minute he woke up and felt his cock pressed against you. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled on top of him, kissing and biting his neck while you slowly rolled your hips above him. Taehyung honestly isn’t complaining about it, who wouldn’t love starting their morning off with their girlfriend so hell bent on making them cum.

The only downside of it all was the fact that you actually hadn’t made him cum, leaving him high and dry with an evil laugh as you rolled back off of him and went about your morning as if you hadn’t just committed an awful crime. That may be the reason Taehyung was so insistent on making your assignment tonight a fun little game for the two of you to play and now that that was done and over with he could finally have you on top of him just like this morning.

“You’re telling me you don’t like when I play games with you?” He huffs out a laugh at the teasing kick to your voice, a sinful smile on your lips as you allow him to unzip your sweater, tugging the loose material off your body to reveal the simple black shirt you wore underneath.

“That wasn’t a game, it was torture.” His words are muffled as he leans forward, lips pressing kisses into your skin, breath fanning out and sending tingles down your spine. It was funny how he could pick and choose what was classified as a game, the earlier antics he caused seeming more like torture than you grinding on him at the crack of dawn but you’d let him believe it.

The hold you have on his neck loosens, your arms spreading out to allow him to slip the sweater off of you entirely, large palms now coming to roam over the small sliver of exposed skin that peeked out under the hem of your shirt. “You know what would be so hot?” His cold fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as he inches the material up, little by little, revealing your belly button, the edge of your bra coming next as you hum in question.

“If you ever wore some hot ass latex or leather on the job.” He groans unabashedly at the thought of you in a tight leather corset, boobs accentuated as it hugged your skin. Maybe you’d wear a cute little garter with your Beretta tucked into it, or one of those adorable daggers you had grown so fond of recently.

It might be a wet dream of his but you just snort at the thought, not being able to imagine yourself getting a decent shot with something so restrictive on, god forbid Taehyung decided to play another game of cat and mouse you’re not so sure a leather corset would hold as you chased your target.

“That's so impractical, I’ll do it for you here though.” That appeases him, a smug smile on his lips as he continues to pull up your shirt, taking his time as if he was unwrapping his favorite present. With your red bra fully revealed he sighs in appreciation, tossing the shirt aside without a care to fully admire you.

His hands cup over your bra, thumbs gently tracing the swell of your breasts before giving a rough squeeze that makes you breathe out a laugh. “Will you really?” He questions, keeping a good hold on you as he flips you over, flat on your back with your head resting by the armrest of the couch. Your elbows hold you up as you smile at him, dazed as you watch him tug up his grey shirt and throw it off to the side.

“Yeah, only if you buy that cute maid costume I found and wear it for me.” Taehyung doesn’t even think twice before agreeing, stomach tensing up as your fingers trace along his skin, circling around the random scars that litter his body from close encounters and senseless fights. They serve as physical reminders of your boyfriend’s careless behavior, that minefield mentality making the worst decisions possible in the name of getting a quick thrill. You follow them up until you reach the tiny scar you were responsible for on his shoulder, shallow and faded to a lighter tan now that it was healed.

“I told you, you’re trigger happy.” His hand grasps your own, bringing it back down to the couch as he chuckles. “I think you’re a danger to society Y/N.”

“Hm, am I?” Your voice drawls out as you stretch out, enjoying the way he watches you like a predator would his prey, sharp eyes hyper focused on your every move and you swear he can hear how your heart races in your chest. When he simply hums in response, nimble fingers beginning to unbutton your jeans, you can only giggle and help him as best as you can, lifting your hips and pulling your legs until the tight material has joined the growing pile on the floor.

Taehyung slots between your thighs with ease now, hands digging into the sofa as he holds himself up and leans forward to kiss you once more. His breath is felt on your face as he groans at the taste of you, forever loving the feeling of your lips on his, an endless craving he would never get over. You taste like your favorite chapstick, sweet like candy, and when his tongue peeks out to get a better dose you breathe his name out in a sigh that sounds like music to his ears.

Resting his weight on his knees, his hands are set on their mission, palms sliding underneath you until they reach the back clasp of your bra, expertly unhooking it until it snaps against your skin. A playful laugh is passed between your mouths as he does so, his teeth gently nipping at your lips before he begins his descent. Sloppy kisses are pressed along your jaw as he pulls the straps of your garment down your arms and lets it fall onto the floor.

As he reaches the juncture of your neck he takes a nice inhale, chuckling when he catches the hint of your sweet shampoo mixed with the metallic tang of gunpowder. “You smell like work–“

“Get off, I’m gonna shower!” You try to swat him off of you but he’s quick to grasp your hands, pinning them above your head, giving you a wicked smile as he stares down at you, loving the way your nose twitches in anger at being held down by his arms and hips.

So cute.

“No, I finally have you right where I want you.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung chooses not to answer you as he starts to continue the trail of kisses down your neck, grabbing both wrists in one hand as his other trails down your chest. The ticklish feeling leaves you fidgeting around as he grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing the flesh before slowly circling around your nipple until it hardens at the sensation. The wet path of kisses passes your collarbones, soft smacks of his lips on your skin as he nears your neglected breast, kisses around the swell of them in a teasing way.

When he finally envelopes your other nipple into his mouth you gasp, arching your back to push more of you into his mouth, feeling the vibrating hum against your skin as his tongue flicks around your areola. Tingles shoot up your spine as he pinches your nipple in his fingers, pinching and rolling the bud between his grasp, the feeling of his sharp teeth press into your skin when he smiles at the way you react to his touch, soft moans flowing past your lips the longer he teases you.

With a slight pop, he releases your nipple, a satisfied laugh hitting the air when he sees the way it’s covered in a sheen of his saliva, rising and falling with each of your breaths. His palm still holds your hands hostage but as you fidget in his grasp he releases them, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking at the soft tufts of dark brown until you were content.

“So this is right where you want me?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah,” he leans up and kisses you once more before trailing down your body, your hands still tangled in his hair as he descends in the same fashion as before, an endless trail of smooches down your ribs, across your torso and around your belly button. The final kisses are pressed into your hips as his fingers hook into the band of your underwear, pulling the waistband of your matching red thong up at the sides and letting it snap against your skin like an annoying child, snickering at the sound it makes.

When you nudge your knee against his sides he stops fooling around, finally yanking them down your thighs, gingerly unhooking them from around your feets to be forgotten entirely now that he stares down at your exposed pussy. A smile graces his face at the sight, folds wet and glistening, already messy in a way he couldn’t resist as he glides his face against your inner thighs. “This is where I want you.”

Your fingers twirl around his hair as he messily kisses around your lower lips, eyes falling shut as you focus on each touch on your body, the brief nudge of his nose, the had press of his lips and finally, the cool sensation of his saliva as he licks a broad stripe up your slit, tongue collecting the drips of your arousal.

“Fuck, Taehyung.” It comes out as a mewl, head dropping back in awe when he repeats the motion, tongue slipping through your folds, the tip of it meeting your clit in a small jolt that leaves you breathless. He could do this all day, feel each stinging pull on his scalp that accompanies each flick of his tongue, your cries of pleasure only increasing when he spreads your folds apart and dives in with new set determination.

The messy smacks and slurps blend in with your choked breath, mingling in between each gasped syllable that make up his name, pleas of more that he can’t deny. Soft lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking gently in a way he knows you love, spelled out by your thighs spreading further apart, hips rutting into his face in desperation.

These deliberate flicks against your bundle of nerves are set to tease, proven when he stops altogether with an evil smile, your arousal coating his chin but he doesn’t mind it, revelling in the harsh yank you deliver to his hair at his stopping.

“Baby has a temper, it sucks to be teased huh?” Taehyung’s words are spoken through a smirk, mouth dropped open as he laughs carelessly, head pulled back by your hold on his hair. The cute pout on your lips doesn’t look threatening in the least, not when he can see just how close you are to falling apart, the subtle twitch of your thighs being telling enough.

“I promise, I’ll never do that again. Just make me cum, please.” His eyes glimmer now, teeth biting down on his lower lip when you guide him back down to your swollen lips, wet with a mixture of your arousal and his spit.

“Deal.” Without wasting another second, his lips are back on you, long fingers joining in as he circles your entrance, slowly easing their way inside in a familiar stretch that makes you arch your back. He smiles against you as he feels the tight ring of muscles wrapped around him, the soft walls of your pussy felt along his fingertips as he curves his digits inside of you, not content until you’re gasping above him as he tickles along your gspot.

“K-keep doing that.” You beg him, mouth dropping open as another moan spills out when he does as you ask, fingers pumping into you, rubbing along your sweet patch as his tongue continues to ravish you, circling and sucking on your clit to give you the release you crave.

“Ah, fuck I’m close.”

Taehyung holds in his laugh as your feet slide along the top of the couch, searching for some leverage as you lose yourself in the feeling. The grip you have on his hair tightens as you near your release, body set alight with each thrust of his fingers, eyes screwed shut as you savor it all. He can feel the way your walls squeeze his fingers, leaving his cock hard in his jeans when he thinks of the way your walls will feel around him next.

With a final flick against your clit you’re shouting out his name, flashes of light sparking behind your closed lids as your body tenses up, limbs rendered useless as the wave of your climax washes over you. Taehyung always loved the way your bones turned into jello when the pleasure rocked through you, fingers losing their grip and thighs flopping onto the couch when he pulled away, face looking entirely satisfied by your reaction.

“That was exactly how I wanted you.” A messy kiss is placed onto your hip once more, leaving a wet spot in its wake that can be attributed to the remnants of your orgasm coating his lips.

“Yeah, you know how I want you?” you pant, giggling when his kisses turn ticklish, eyes looking up at you in question. “Fucking me so hard I forget I’m still mad at you.”

Oh, he could do that no problem.

It’s almost comical how quickly he’s able to get out of his jeans and underwear, his hand wrapping around his cock as he kneels onto the couch again. A smile spreads along his lips when he takes note of the look on your face as you stare at him, eyes following his hand as he lazily pumps his length.

There's pure mischief in your eyes, a tiny devil on your shoulder that cheers at the prospect of you getting what you want, thighs spreading further apart in invitation for him. Taehyung presses his lips together as his thumb rolls over the tip of his cock, smearing the beads of precum around the swollen head before giving himself a gentle squeeze as he inches forward.

It feels like time stands still as you watch with bated breath when he guides his cock to your entrance, a gasp slipping through your lips when he slaps the head of his cock against your sensitive clit, enjoying the small shudder that courses through your body with a discreet laugh.

“Taehyung,” you whine, rutting your hips up impatiently for him to hurry up. He finds pleasure in this though, his constant need to play games with you out ruling anything else.

“What?” He probes, smiling at you as if he didn’t have his dick inches from entering you.

“Fuck me, c’mon.” Your words trail off as his tip presses against you, slowly breaching your entrance in a familiar stretch that leaves your mind spinning. Taehyung can’t even get himself to make a sly remark like he always does, tease you about how messy you were before he even properly fucked you, no his head is wiped out of any witty comment, only able to focus on how amazing you feel around him.

“Shit,” he gasps out, sliding into you with ease from how wet you were, the slick coating your thighs and dripping down onto the couch beneath you. You find comfort in the feeling of his hands sliding up your thighs as he bottoms out, fingers gripping onto your hips so tightly it dimples your skin, holding you still before sliding back out of you in a wet squelch. Taehyung can’t get himself to look away at the visual, how his cock shines in the light, coated in the strings of your arousal.

A choked moan reaches his ears the second he starts to thrust into you, hands keeping you still to prevent you from sliding around from the quick pace he knows you love. Your own hands scramble to reach down, fingers wrapping around his arms to ground yourself as he snaps his hips into you, the laughter mixing with delighted moans letting him know he wasn’t being too rough. No you would never think that, wanting nothing more than to let Taehyung have his way with you, hips knocking into yours with each rock, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a dull throb that left your nerves on edge.

“Just like that,” you mewl, his attention dragging away from your soaked cunt, looking up at you and seeing the dazed expression on your face. Seeing you like this definitely topped the adorable way you had held a gun to his chest, broken down and vulnerable all because of him. It was a privilege he didn’t take lightly, allowed to see you in a light he knew others hadn’t.

“Fuck you feel so good, so warm,” his words are spoken quietly, almost like a train of thought that hadn’t meant to escape but he means them, completely lost in the way your walls flutter around him, each pulse leaving him grunting in ecstasy.

“You’re right,” you start with a laugh, “I would miss you”

That grabs his attention, hips never slowing as he tilts his head in curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, no one else could fuck me as good as you do.” He chuckles at that, looking down at you and seeing the evil glint in your eyes as you smile, voice as sweet as honey when you ask him, “Would you miss me?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully at your question, eyes falling shut when you clench around him on purpose, a teasing laugh leaving your lips as his mind blanks momentarily. “I don’t know, should we find out?” He mocks your earlier phrase as he trails his own hand up your body to your neck, large palm easily wrapping around it. He’s no stranger to the flash of excitement on your face, having grown used to the way you’d beg him to choke you so often it was like second nature now.

Call it sick but it made your brain turn into mush, made you abandon all dignity whenever he wrapped his hands around you. Maybe it should instill a sense of fear into you, knowing those same hands had done so much harm to others, the countless times they’ve been wrapped around other targets with the intent to kill. The soft glimmer in his eyes settles any thoughts before you can even have them, the twisted version of love spelled out in the curl of his lips as he asks if this is okay comforts you because you know he’ll never actually hurt you.

“Tighter,” you mumble out, smirking when he listens, fingers pressing into your skin deliciously. The minute his hands are properly wrapped around you its like your body is lit up, every nerve ending spazzing out, allowing you to feel the pleasure tenfold as his cock continues to fuck you. Each obscene squelch of his cock mixed with the added feeling of him grinding into your clit makes your brain go fuzzy, your legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to keep him closer.

Taehyung knew you loved to be choked, loved to feel the pounding of your blood rushing through your ears, the way the edges of your vision would fade out, his own face speckled in black as the feeling spread. His eyes never leave yours, amazement displayed in them at seeing you fall apart, your small hand laying on top of his in a sense of security. Your chest rises and falls with each breath, the moans and cries only getting softer as your orgasm approaches you, eyes threatening to close.

He knows the signs too well, waiting for the right moment and just before he knows you’ll cum he releases your throat, the sudden rush of unrestricted blood flow pushing you over the edge and intensifying the feeling. It’s evident in the way you gush around his cock, body tensing as your climax crashes through you, your arms desperately clinging onto him as he fucks you through it, soft hushes and whispers pressed into your skin as he kisses you gently.

Your mind wipes out entirely, eyes screwed shut as you come down, body buzzing with sensitivity as you ooze around his cock, leaving an unholy mess beneath you. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He groans out, the desperate cries and soft mewls of his name are what finally push him over, spilling into you in ribbons of white, rutting his hips a few more times before stilling altogether, panting above you with sweat coating his hairline.

“I’d miss you too.” He mumbles out with a shy smile, gently brushing away the stray hairs from your face as you try to catch your breath. His face looks soft now, almost squishy as his cheeks puff out, it was hard to believe that was the face of a killer.

“Hmm, certified psycho Kim Taehyung goes soft for his girlfriend, who should I notify?”

He snorts at your retort, pulling out of you only to flop on top of you without a care in the world, nuzzling his face into your hair because he secretly loved the smell of your shampoo mixed with the gunpowder he had teased you about earlier. “Maybe the FBI, I’m pretty sure they’d love to know the name of any accomplice.”

“I’m not your accomplice.”

“Right my bad, they think I work alone.” He chuckles as he recounts the way the crooked cops had notified them of the FBI’s increased interest in Taehyung after he had smashed that man’s head in. Really who would have pegged the guy as an FBI agent. It didn’t raise too many concerns for him though, Taehyung hardly meddled in foreign affairs in the states anyways.

Before you’re able to tease him about his fuck ups once more the incessant ring of your phone drones off from the floor. With a groan from Taehyung he’s reaching down and pulling the device free from your sweater’s pocket,seeing it was Namjoon calling, no doubt ready to ask how the assignment went but Taehyung swipes the screen to answer.

“You know, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Your jaw drops as you laugh, attempting to swat at him to grab your phone free from it’s confines but he’s determined, holding it tightly against his ears with a devilish smile.

“Keep it up Taehyung, you’ll be on probation until I say so.” Namjoon’s voice is heard loud and clear through your phone’s speaker, the eye roll your boyfriend gives being comical enough, his mood being dampened at the reminder. With a pout of his lips he’s handing you the phone, getting off of you with a slight grimace when he feels just how sweaty you two had gotten.

Your conversation is quick, finished by the time he was done cleaning up, exiting your room with new clothes on and your favorite robe to hand you. The very evident smile on your lips shows whatever you two talked about must have been good, no doubt having gotten endless praise from Namjoon along with a new assignment. “I know that smile, what’s up.”

Slipping the robe on with a sigh you stand up and wrap your arms around his waist, peering up at him in delight. “I get to use my Sako next week.”

He can only shake his head at the tone in your voice, speaking about using your favorite gun on a target like it was a shiny new doll for you to play with. “You’re psycho you know that.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts imagines #kim taehyung smut #new

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years

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if I can never give you peace — one || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 6k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Minor Character Death, Guns, kind of dark in general

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The first gunshot takes everyone by surprise. Unsure glances are exchanged all around, “did you guys hear that”, and disbelief is clear as day on people’s faces. There’s no way this would happen here, right? People are mostly aware of the fact that they’re technically working for a mafia leader, but this is the legal side of the business, and this building is in the middle of the town’s business centre. This cannot be happening.

You stay perfectly still, immobile where you were standing. Out of all the people here, you’re the one who is the most involved in the questionable parts of the family’s activities. In fact, you were just about to go up to Mr. X’s floor to discuss said questionable things — in this case, the smuggling of a large cargo of weapons.

The gunshot is still ringing in your ears when it is followed by another one, and then possibly more, but you can’t hear them because chaos erupts all around you.

People get up, start running around, some towards the elevators, some towards the stairs. Your brain tells you those choices are probably bad. If those gunshots are for the Family — and who are you kidding, they are — then whoever is firing them is coming up.

“Don’t use the stairs,” you order, and some people stop to look at you, unsure of what to do. They trust your decisions, to a degree, but you doubt it’s enough in this situation. “They’re probably coming,” you explain, even if three of the employees have already slipped through the door and left, “and I don’t think you should be in front of the elevator when the door opens.”

Blood drains from people’s faces. Downstairs, there are more shots fired. A woman starts to cry. Your brain is going in overdrive, processing everything, trying to come up with the best decision, and yet it doesn’t feel like anything is actually registering.

“You should barricade yourself in a room,” you say. Your voice is eerily calm, even to your ears, and it feels strange to hear it. It’s like a curtain has fallen between you and the world around you. You understand that this situation is terrifying, that you should have a reaction that is not apathy. You just don’t. “I don’t think you’re the main targets here. I’ll be going up to see Mr. X.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” a man shouts. “You just want to leave us here to be canon fodder! You—”

He’s shut up by your bodyguard pulling out a gun of his own.

“I suggest you do what she’s saying,” he orders, voice deep and gravelly.

On top of being armed, Hector is a bear hybrid you hired about a year ago. He’s tall and large, very impressive physically, which is generally enough to discourage any kind of altercation. He’s also a calm and gentle person most of the time. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him hold the gun he carries.

“You should stay here with them,” you tell him. He send you a disconcerted look.

“Are you sure? Even if they’re not the target, you might be.”

The statement shouldn’t take you by surprise. It’s something you should have considered immediately, and it takes you a second to figure out why you haven’t. If you are a target, that means the attacker knows about the workings of the organization. That would mean that they’ve been planning this for a while, and that they’ve simply gone completely under your radar all this time. Which is a lot more worrying to you than anything else.

“Stay,” you insist. When this is over, it will be better if people here think you had their best interest at heart.

If you make it out, that is.

Hector ushers people inside a conference room, and you walk towards the stairs. From there, you hear gunshots better than you did earlier, and you wince at the sound. You’re not used to it. It’s strange, since you’ve been working for the Family for years now, but you’ve very rarely heard people firing guns. You’ve never even had a gun pulled on you. You’d like to think it’s because you’re too careful, or too smart to find yourself in those situations, but the truth is you’ve just never been in situations where that sort of things would happen.

Sure, someone could send a killer for you — they have, actually — and then the carefully crafted net of precautions you’ve woven around yourself would — did — stop them, but you don’t participate in drug deals and you’re rarely out in the street, and that’s where those things happen most of the time.

You glance down. You’re on the fifteenth floor, so you doubt the employees who ignored your warning have made it out yet. You doubt they will, to be honest.

Glancing up, you wonder if you’ll make it to the twentieth before someone catches up with you and, since it’s a useless thing to think about, you begin your ascension. You’re not the most in shape, most of your daily exercise consisting in walking from places to places. That is a lot of walking, and you can do it without getting breathless, but you never take the stairs. Soon, you’re panting, and you’re about to take a break after three floors when you hear new gunshots that make you freeze.

These were in the stairwell. They echo deafeningly, and, for the first time since this all started, fear actually grips you. You swallow, heart beating loudly, and you keep going. You hear some screams, down there, and the horrible sound of flesh — bodies — hitting the floor, and then nothing. You’re sure someone must be climbing up those stairs, but you can’t hear them at all, and that terrifies you. You have no idea how fast they are, how soon they’ll catch up with you, how—

You slam open the door to the last floor. The time is not to discretion, and anyway, whoever is down there is probably coming for the twentieth floor.

The second you walk out, three guns are pointed towards you, and someone is screaming at you to stay where you are. You obey, until Mr. X’s bodyguards identify you. You had told him that hiring hybrids would be a good idea, since they rely more on their heightened senses and tend to have better reflexes, but you’d been ignored, so you had just shrugged it off and followed your own advice.

“Mr. X is inside,” one of the men tells you, pointing at the door, but not moving to take you there. You walk by him, and they all keep their eyes firmly on the stairwell’s door. That makes you assume the elevators don’t work, otherwise they’d have part of their focus on there.

“Mr. X, do we have any idea what— Miss Xanders, I apologize, I hadn’t seen you there.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N),” Anna says. “We really have more important things to concern ourselves with.”

“Do we know who’s attacking us?” you ask, giving your attention back to Mr. Xanders.

Mr. Xanders is an old man, you feel that he was already an old man when you’d joined. He had Anna quite late, when he was nearing his fifties, and he recently celebrated his seventieth birthday. You would know, you organized the party.

He’s looked old for as long as you’ve worked for him, using a walking stick, small eyes hidden behind large glasses, skin marked with wrinkles. But there was always something sharp and smart, cunning, in his eyes. Despite everything, he felt dangerous, and you had never doubted that he was not a man to underestimate.

Right now, though, he looks tired. Exhausted. He’s staring at his laptop screen and shaking his head, utterly confused.

“I can’t recognize anyone,” he says, and your heart misses a beat. Not good, that’s not good at all. “Can you?”

You walk around the desk quickly, examining the view you get from various cameras placed all around the building, and your hands involuntarily clench into fists as you see how dire everything is. On several different floors, men with machine guns are walking around, and you know for a fact they’re not working for you. You can’t see what’s happened to your people in the low-resolution, but you can guess, and your stomach tightens at the thought.

“How is that possible?” you whisper. “How has no one intervened yet?”

You know the police isn’t too keen on coming here, but this is genuinely insane. The only explanation you can think of is that they’ve been paid-off, and again, you don’t know how you wouldn’t have heard about that.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Mr. X says harshly, and you wince, focusing again on the men on the screen. You scan the men again, quickly. Some are wearing masks, but a lot of them are brazenly showing their faces, and that is one more thing that is not good. They should want to make sure no one would recognize them. If they’re confident enough to do that…

“I don’t know them,” you whisper. Some look vaguely familiar, but you just can’t place it, so you’re sure they aren’t big names. You have definitely not been on the look-out for them.

“Dad, we should really go up to the helicopter,” Anna says urgently.

Mr. Xanders hesitates, then nods, getting up in a movement that is slow and clearly painful. You help him out without thinking much about it, holding his arm and giving him his walking stick.

“How will you do that? The elevators aren’t working and the stairs don’t go to the roof.”

“We’ll reactivate the elevators,” Anna explains with a shrug, and you stare at her in disbelief.

“That will mean those people will be able to move freely in the building. I don’t think—”

“They are already moving freely,” Mr. Xanders barks.

“Still—”

Then, a lot of things happen at the same time. You were standing in front of the elevator, Anna calling it with a special key, the bodyguards surrounding you, eyes and weapons still directed at the stairwell door.

The elevator opens with a ding. And the door slams open.

There are gunshots everywhere. You dive to the ground, or maybe you’re pushed down, you’re not too sure. You look up to see two men falling down around you, the third guard ushering Anna and her father in. You try to push yourself to your feet, but the door is already closing. You call out, you can’t hear your own voice, ears ringing from all the noise.

You meet Anna’s eyes, filled with indifference and a complete lack of remorse, and then the door is closed, and you know they’re gone.

And someone, someone who wanted them dead and just killed two men, is in this room with you.

Slowly, oh so slowly, you turn around. As you do, you feel your lower lip starting to tremble, and you sink your teeth into the flesh to stop it. You push yourself on your elbows, and your eyes fall on a man with bleached blonde hair pushed back with a bandana, a round face that makes him look younger than you suspect he is, and a mocking smirk. Once more, you’re struck by the fact that you don’t know him. He’s alone and he took out two trained guards, not to mention the people he must have killed to get there, and you have no clue who he is.

His eyes confuse you, at first, and then you realize it’s their color that is throwing you off, an unnatural yellow, and the slit of his pupils. He’s a hybrid, you understand, and you curse yourself for how slow your brain is at the moment. You don’t have time to wonder if he’s part cat or part snake before he takes a step towards you. Fear grips you, and you consider crawling back, but you force yourself to stay unmoving. You don’t let emotions control you. That’s not who you are.

Instead, you stare at him straight in the eyes, even as you feel tears well up in yours. You’ve never been afraid of death, and yet it seems that you can’t stop your body’s reaction as you understand that this is it. This is how you die, where you die, this is who kills you.

The man crouches down in front of you, and lifts his gun to press the barrel against your forehead. He looks at you like an animal playing with its food. The situation seems to be amusing to him, and you think he is waiting for you to beg. You have no intention of doing that.

“Just make it quick,” you say.

You don’t recognize your own voice. The man’s smile widens, revealing pearly white teeth and a set of fangs. Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and you’re completely unable to stop them. You don’t feel sad or afraid, you just feel empty, but the tears keep falling. Still, you hold the man’s gaze. You won’t beg for your life.

“What if I let you go?” he drawls, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen at the possibility. Then, he laughs, pleased by your reaction, and you’re horrified to find out that this had an effect on you. The treacherous hope you’d just felt makes the reality of your imminent death crushing. A sob escapes you before you can get yourself under control again.

“Please,” you whisper. “Just get it over with.”

A pout forms on his face, and he shrugs. Then, to your surprise, he removes the gun from your forehead. The next thing you feel is the grip of the weapon, violently connecting with your temple, and then you don’t feel anything at all, not even the floor when your head hits it in your fall.

You wake up to the sound of soft, muffled sobs. It takes you a few seconds to piece things together, your head throbbing painfully and your mind in shambles. You lift your head with a groan, trying to take in your surroundings. Your thoughts are slow and you hate it. It makes you feel so vulnerable and defenseless.

Of course, that gets worse when you realize your hands are tied behind your back. That sends a jolt of adrenaline through your body, and you manage to look around you. It seems like you are in some warehouse, which, in your experience, is not a good thing. That’s where executions happen. They’re places that are accident prone, so the presence of blood could be explained easily, and they aren’t inspected that often anyway.

There's another sob beside you, and when you turn to look where it’s coming from, you find Anna, not just tied up but gagged, tears streaming down her cheeks. You assume that means her and her father were caught before they made it to the helicopter. On the other side of her is Mr. X, who seems to be in the same situation as her.

I’m here to be killed, you think. You can’t see another explanation. Mr. X and Anna are definitely here for that reason, so if you’re there with them— it means you’re here to die. You hope it will be quick, like you had asked that man, but you doubt it. If they took you here, it’s probably because they intend to make an example out of you. Intellectually, you don’t blame them. If this is a takeover of the family, they’ll probably need all the intimidation power they can get to keep the situation under control. It’s a ballsy move, certainly, and you would be at least a little impressed if you weren’t thinking about the creative and painful ways they can choose to get rid of you.

“Is she awake?” a voice asks. You turn your head quickly, too quickly, and another groan escapes you as your head painfully reminds you of the blow you just took.

You meet the mocking eyes of the man who knocked you out, before he looks away from you, at a large man you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“He wants to see her.”

The man nods, and then he’s on you in just a few steps, roughly forcing you up, his grip tight around your arm. You groan again as he drags you through the warehouse, to a large black car. You have just the time to think that someone must not want to be seen, if they’re in that, before you’re pushed into it. You lose your balance and land on your knees, and that’s when legs appear in your field of vision. They’re clad in black suit trousers.

You slowly look up. First, you discover elbows resting on spread knees, tattooed hands joined between them. Then there’s an elegant white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, muscular shoulders, a strong jaw, an amused, mocking smile and—

Your mouth drops open. Today is definitely proving to be a trying day for your reputation of never expressing your emotions, no matter the situation.

“Jungkook?” you ask, in disbelief.

Because it’s him. There’s something harsher in his eyes, his hair is longer, dark locks falling down to his jaw, and he’s lost any remaining softness he still had two years ago, when you last saw him, but it’s definitely him. He looks confident, and he’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, clearly knowing that he’s in full control of the situation.

“Hey,” he says. “Wanna take a seat?”

He watches you struggle to get to your feet, something that turns out not to be that easy when your hands are tied behind your back, and doesn’t make a movement to help you. When you manage to sit opposite him, you’re still watching him like you’ve seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?”

You know you should be able to piece things together to get an answer now. The deferential tone the man had when he talked about him earlier, everything that happened since these first gunshots… In another situation, it would be obvious to you. But because it’s Jungkook, you can’t bring yourself to come to the natural conclusion.

Jungkook had an out. He could have left this world behind altogether. So why wouldn’t he?

“Come on, you’re supposed to be smart,” he says, mocking, and his smile is harsh and condescending. “I’m taking over for the Xanders family. I think that should have been pretty clear.”

There’s a moment of silence, a long moment, as he waits for it to sink in. He’s in no hurry.

“But why?”

He shrugs, lean back against the leather seat.

“Because I can. Don’t you wanna why you’re here?”

That… would be a good idea, actually, and you’re bothered by how long it took you to think about it. You’re also bothered by how you lost track of that the second you saw Jungkook. You blame it on the surprise and on the fact that you’ve known him since before you became as— you’d like to say ‘efficient’, but the right word is probably ‘emotionless’. Empty.

“Why am I here?” you ask, frowning. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it outside. It could be that he just wants to gloat, but something tell you he has—

“I have an offer for you,” he says, and then he grins and reveals his teeth. “It’s my way of saying thanks for how generous you were when you gave me five minutes to save my life.”

His tone is so abrasive it almost makes you wince, but you’re already falling back into your normal self. ‘Offer’ is a good thing, it means negotiation, conversation, things you can do, things you’re good at, things you can focus on to block out everything else, like the pain in your head or the guilt that settles in when he describes your actions.

“What offer?”

The grin disappears. He doesn’t seem happy he didn’t get a reaction from you.

“Work for me.”

That… makes sense, you suppose.

“I’m taking over for Mr. X. You know everything around here, and some people say you’re the best there is at what you do.” Then he shrugs, and casually pulls out a gun that you think was tucked in his back pocket. “That, or join him out there. I’m not sure you’ll like the outcome for that though.”

Despite the obvious threat, you can’t help but seriously consider the offer. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that it’s not a good one. Even if he manages to replace Mr. X, you doubt all the people who work for him will obey him. Stabilizing the whole thing will be a titanic task, but that’s not even what worries you — you can appreciate a challenge. No, the issue is that if you switch your allegiance, people will remember it. You will make a lot of enemies, and that doesn’t even include the people who simply will not trust you because you used to work for someone else. It’s a poisoned gift, really, and you’re sure Jungkook knows it.

“How do you plan on making the families follow suit?” you ask with a frown.

He rolls his eyes.

“Do people ever tell you how boring you are?”

They do, actually.

“This is not the only coup happening today. Some people who have already agreed to work for me will get in power. And the others… will take some convincing, but I’m sure they’ll come around.” He gives you a joyless, aggressive smile.

You’re still focused on his first words. You were already so puzzled that you wouldn’t have heard about what’s going on today — about how Jungkook is back in town, about how he’s been planning an entire takeover — but this is on a whole other level.

“How did you do that?” you ask, and when he lifts an eyebrow, you know you didn’t manage to keep your surprise out of your voice.

“Which part?”

“How did I not hear about that? I mean, Mr. X could sneeze and I would have known about it. People couldn’t open speakeasies without getting approved by me first — and they tried more than once.”

Jungkook looks at you, and disbelief passes on his face. This is what gets you? You couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about anything earlier, now you seem barely affected by the fact that he was threatening to kill you, but that caught your interest. Not just that, but you almost look impressed.

Okay, maybe you’re not as boring as he’d said, but you sure are fucking weird.

“We can smell you,” he says, tapping his nose. “It’s not too hard to figure out who you’re in contact with. Just had to make sure to avoid them. There were a few close calls, but we took care of it.” Then he shrugs. “It wasn’t as hard as you think it was. You’re not as cautious around hybrids.”

You stare at him for a while. He starts picking at his suit, looking annoyed by the turn the situation has taken, and you think about what he said. He’s right, you realize. You fucked up here — badly. You should have taken hybrids’ senses into consideration. You’d like to tell yourself that you didn’t think about it because there were no hybrids in high places, in the organization, but that’s not a good excuse. You file the information in your brain. You’ll do better.

“I’ll do it,” you say, and Jungkook glances at you.

“What changed your mind?”

“I’m— curious, I suppose. I’d like to see where this thing is going.”

Jungkook considers taking back his offer. He didn’t know what he thought would happen, but he expected it to be more interesting than this. Instead, you sat there, face as stiff as ever, and now you’re talking about being curious, which sounds wildly out of character, if you ask him. Yoongi’s told him you cried when you thought he was about to kill him, but he doubts it right now. It doesn’t look like anything can get through that thick shell of yours — and even if it did, he doesn’t think there would be a lot underneath it.

But the thing is, he was telling the truth earlier, when he said you were rumored to be the best there was at your job, and Jungkook is nothing if not a perfectionist. He likes to surround himself with the best. Which, unfortunately, means you.

“Suga!” he shouts, opening the door.

The man with the slit pupils jumps in easily, and looks at you with a disapproving twist of his lips.

“I’m not killing her, am I?”

He sounds disappointed.

Jungkook shakes his head in response.

“That’s Suga,” he tells you, pointing at the man. “He’ll explain how we work to you.”

You nod.

“I think he should kill you,” Suga informs you off-handedly, dropping on the seat next to you. “I think you’ll betray us.”

“If she does, I’ll kill her, if she fucks up her job, I’ll kill her, ” Jungkook says, and you have no doubt he means it. “Consider this your five minutes. Let them go, and you won’t have another shot.”

“That’s fine by me,” you say evenly. Betrayal has never been an option for you. You had no loyalty towards Mr. X, but the threat over your family was too big to risk it. And now, with Jungkook— you guess you’ll have to wait and see. You don’t think you’ll betray him, but if things turn sour… You suppose you’re not above it.

Maybe it should worry you, how little you value your own life, but you brush it off quickly. Thinking about it too much could compromise the way you do your job, and you can’t have that.

“So,” Jungkook says, leaning back, eyes watching you carefully. “What do you suggest we do with the Xanders?”

Suga opens his mouth, but Jungkook lifts a hand, signaling that he wants your answer. You wonder if this is some kind of test.

“Killing them would be the best decision,” you say, somewhat reluctantly. You know your decisions in the past, your suggestions, have lead to the death of people, but you’ve rarely been so direct about it. Then again, death is part of the game, when you work this kind of job. Mr. Xanders is about as close to an actual monster as it gets. And Anna… Well, maybe Anna isn’t. You don’t like her, and you absolutely believe that she was happy to enjoy everything that came with what her father did, but she’s not him. Which is a low bar to clear.

“She’s not wrong,” Suga echoes, sounding annoyed.

“Letting them live would be seen as a proof of weakness and they would try to come back. It’s just— a bad idea.”

You can see Jungkook’s jaw tensing. Next to you, Suga starts to make his leg shake. You suppose he has the same kind of bad feeling you do.

“What if we kill Mr. X but not Anna?” he asks, and Suga groans. Jungkook rolls his eyes and develops. “Yoongi, we’re not taking over the legal part of the business. We can just— leave that to her, and not bother about it.”

“We’ll have to figure out something else to launder money,” you say, because that was the main point of that side of things, legal just in name really. That is not your biggest concern, though. “But if you kill her father and not her—”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Yoongi snaps. “She needs to die.”

He’s right. It’s just the smart thing to do.

“People here aren’t impressed by mercy,” you insist, and that’s when you realize you’ve lost that fight already. Jungkook knows it. There’s no way he doesn’t. He’s made his decision, even if it’s a bad one, and trying to change his mind is useless. So you’re quick to jump to the things that need to be done if he lets Anna live. “You need to get her to sign emancipation papers.”

Jungkook tenses suddenly at the suggestion and a low growl comes from his throat as he bares his teeth at you threateningly. Yoongi barely moves, but you see his hand settling on his hip, near his gun, which you guess serves as a reassuring gesture. The car fills with tension, and you swallow. You feel small and defenseless. It’s not that rare a sentiment, but you suddenly become extremely aware of the fact that you’re alone with them, hands still fucking tied behind your back, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do.

“Anna doesn’t own me,” Jungkook snarls.

“Legally she does,” you explain. You’re choosing your words carefully, making sure not to anger him any more, but you’re still staring right at him. “You may have forged an ID or something, but if she lives and she can prove she hasn’t freed you— the consequences will be bad.”

There is a second that feels like an eternity, Jungkook just staring at you, lips now in a tight line, before he shrugs and you can breathe again.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Yoongi groans and sends you a furious glare that you don’t understand. You agreed with him. What did you do to deserve that?

“I’ll take care of Xanders,” Jungkook adds. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Can someone— Can someone untie me?” you ask as they’re moving towards the door.

Jungkook glances at you.

“We’ll see when we come back.”

A grin flashes on his lips when your lips twist into an offended expression, and then he jumps out of the car, followed by Yoongi, and leaves you alone in there.

Fuck.

What an asshole.

Jungkook walks towards his captives with long, confident strides. Yoongi is right behind him, of course, his shadow, the perfect killer. He may disapprove of Jungkook’s plan, if you can even call it that, and he sure doesn’t like how easily you dropped the topic, but he’s still loyal to him. If he fucks up, he’ll clean up after him.

Jungkook savors the moment when Anna’s eyes fall on him. He can tell she recognizes him immediately by the way they widen and how she tries to speak through her gag. It’s been years since the last time he saw her. Much longer than the last time he saw you, which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s thought about this so much. A long time ago, he dreamt of her telling him she wanted him back, but over the years, it mostly turned into him finally taking revenge, and he intends to fully savor it now that it’s happening.

He removes the gag from her mouth, and takes an unhealthy pleasure from the way she sobs out, loud and desperate.

“Jungkook, Jungkook, baby, please, please…”

Jungkook only needs to glance at Yoongi for him to set her free, albeit after an annoyed roll of his eyes. The second he does, Anna falls from the chair, right into his arms. Jungkook knows that she’s only trying to save her life, doubts she’s thought of him for more than a split second since he’s disappeared, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to enjoy it.

“Hey baby,” he grins, and he watches as she winces when she sees his sharp teeth. Right, she didn’t see him after that.

Fuck. It’s been a long, long time. She really didn’t give a fuck about him, huh?

And yet he can’t kill her. And yet he knows her bright, pleading eyes, the light weight of her body, the curve of her neck by heart.

“I’m going to need you to do something for me,” he says, voice deep and eyes boring into hers.

She blinks.

“And if I do you won’t— you won’t kill me?”

Jungkook’s opinion of Anna is far less charitable than yours. He thinks she’s an opportunist, will do anything to preserve herself and, sure, she’s not personally involved in her father’s business, but she wouldn’t bat an eye if she was. She likes to play the innocent girl who’s horrified by what’s going on with her family, but she just isn’t. As simple as that.

“Nah. I won’t.”

It doesn’t take long before Anna is kneeling on the floor, writing down what Yoongi is dictating to her, reading from his phone. Jungkook could do it, knows the text by heart, learned it a long time ago when he still hoped for it, but he just stays there immobile instead, watching her at his mercy.

It’s not as nice as he’d imagined.

Finally, she hands him the piece of paper with trembling hands, a small smile forming on her lips as she thinks that her nightmare is over.

Jungkook takes it, reads it over, and nods. Then he pulls his gun out, and Anna’s smile vanishes. Jungkook thrives on her reaction, on the idea that he has complete power over her in that moment. It feels dark and twisted, but fuck, it also feels good.

“But I—”

He shoots and Anna yelps, protecting her ears in reflex.

It takes her a second to realize he wasn’t aiming at her, and relief washes over her, before she understands what it means. She turns around, slowly. And screams.

A clean shot, Jungkook decides, looking at Mr. X. The man had been glaring at him the entire time, and he doubts he would have groveled like Anna had. Now, his blood is splattered on the floor, head thrown back, mouth open, staring at the ceiling with empty, dead eyes. Jungkook doesn’t care when Anna runs to him, sobbing, calling for him, trying to shake him awake.

“We’re going,” Jungkook announces to Yoongi, who finally seems a little less angry with him.

He doesn’t look back at Anna as he walks away.

You rub your wrists, then your shoulders after Yoongi has cut you free. Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, just sits back in the luxurious car. You thought he would look content, happy with himself. He doesn’t.

When the car stops in front of your building, you’re not sure what to do. Part of you still can’t believe he’s letting you live.

“We’ll come and get you tomorrow to get things started,” Jungkook informs you while staring out the window. “You know, you probably should have moved two years ago,” he adds, and for some reason, that really rubs you the wrong way.

“I changed the locks,” you answer, and he grins.

“You still haven’t figured out how I did it, right?”

You frown. You haven’t.

He looks genuinely pleased by that.

“What should I call you?” you ask. “Do you want to be the new Mr. X?”

He growls at the suggestion, but seriously thinks about your question.

“Call me— Call me Mr. Jeon,” he decides spontaneously, without explaining his decision, and you nod. This should help make things more professional, isn’t if this isn’t actually a professional setting.

“Fine, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’re pleased to find that your voice is back to normal, calm and even, not letting anyone know of whatever you’re feeling.

Except Jungkook and Yoongi can probably hear how fast your heart is still beating, but that’s a problem you’ll have to deal with some other time.

You step out, and linger there a second too long, the door open. Finally, you gather the courage to turn around and look at Jungkook.

“Why are you back?”

You mean a lot by that. In the city, sure, but also in that setting. You’d always thought— you’d always thought Jungkook was better than that. You’d always thought he should get the opportunity to get away and he’d be fine. That’s something you can’t shake away, can’t push under the rug.

He couldn’t escape.

He stares at you blankly.

“Where else am I supposed to go?”

Then he leans in and closes the door, and you’re left alone on the pavement.

Tagging list: @chaiwivluv @mintyrae

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #hybrid jungkook #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #can you tell that jungkook isn't okay?#jungkook isn't okay #hope you'll like it!#candywrites

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years

Text

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.”

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #imagine spencer reid #criminal minds x you #imagine criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #pls like this it took me so long

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 4: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here.

TW: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 /

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Hi. Can I have one iced americano, no sugar, with an espresso shot, please?"

My hands froze and hovered momentarily on the drink I was preparing as I heard a male voice say that from the counter. I didn't turn around to check who it was, but my boss—who is currently helping me man the cafe today—was quick enough to dash the pit-pattering of my chest. He hooked the order slip on the board in front of me and my eyes immediately raised to read the name there.

"One to-go, americano for Youngho."

I sighed internally. Whether it be from relief or disappointment though, I don't really know. A part of me wanted to be in denial of my emotions, but I realized you can only go so far if the person you are trying to fool is just yourself.

It's been almost three months since that night that I last saw Jaemin. I wish I didn't know the exact number of days that passed since then, but I do and I couldn't help it. Every little detail of what happened was still marked fresh in my mind, especially the feeling of hollowness that exploded in my chest when I woke up that morning to see them gone.

If not for the chip on the edge of the table left by Jeno as he tried to hold a half delirious Haechan down that night, I could have easily brushed off everything as a fleeting dream. But it isn't. It is a nightmare, at least in my part.

He really meant it when he said he would leave me alone.

There were no calls, no messages, no visits, nothing. It was like he didn't exist at all, the past year spent with him nothing but an imagined illusion.

We were back to being strangers again, exactly like how he wants to. If you think about it, it's selfless of him to do this, but I hate it. I hate it with everything I have.

Why? Because now I have to live through the feeling that I'm the only one suffering from all of that has happened. I couldn't watch the news anymore without thinking about him. For heaven's sake, I couldn't even get an iced coffee order without freezing like a statue because I remember him. I hate it. I hate every single moment without him, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

I placed the plastic cover over the finished drink with a soft sigh before turning to hand it over to the customer. At least I can still manage to put out my well-practiced, service smile.

"Iced Americano for Youngho," I called out into the receiving area as I slipped a straw on the cup sleeve. A tall man looked up and walked over to me to receive it.

"Thank you for coming to Brick and Beans. I hope you visit us again soon," I said in autopilot, my words so well-rehearsed that I didn't even have to think through while delivering them. The customer smiled at me before giving me a wink.

"I sure will. Thanks for this, sweet cheeks." He turned and left the shop, leaving me slightly confused.

My attention was then called by my boss who had just finished wiping down the counter. The man—who really has been more of a father figure than an employer for me—gave me a warm smile and motioned me over.

"Can we talk? I have something to tell you."

I briefly glanced at the clock. It isn't my break time yet, but the store is empty so I guess it will be fine. I shrugged.

"Sure."

"Grab a cake for you and me while you're at it," he nodded towards the pastry fridge before walking towards the nearest empty table. I wordlessly took two slices of basque cheesecake, his favorite, before following him. The man has a mean sweet tooth and we both know it.

He was silent for a little bit as he took the fork to take a bite of his treat. I waited patiently for him to speak, hands politely folded over my lap.

"I'm going to sell the cafe."

I blinked and stared. I wasn't expecting that at all.

"You're… what?"

He sighed and leaned back against his seat. He looked a little sad over what he just said but he managed to offer me a small smile.

"I'm getting older. You know how much I love this place because I started it with my late wife, but I really can't continue to manage it anymore. My children, unfortunately, do not have any plans of continuing the business. And they've been asking me to retire, too."

I nodded slowly, taking the news bit by bit.

"Do you already have a buyer, ahjussi?"

"I do. It is kind of strange, actually. Someone offered to buy off the franchise at such a perfect time. And for a very good price, too."

That made me smile. I've had this job ever since I started college so it makes me a little sad that it's going to have a new owner, but I really am happy for him. I just hope whoever buys it off takes care of it really well. The old man loves this place to bits.

I felt him take a hold of my hands from across the table. I looked up and was met with a fatherly smile.

"Don't worry. You won't lose your job. The new owners said that they aren't planning to change anything here and I told them that they had to take you with them."

That made me almost want to burst into tears. I squeezed his hand back in return.

"Ahjussi... You didn't have to do that. I can always look for another job." Who am I kidding? I know it will be hard for me to land another sideline especially with all the financial hiccups I am already dealing with so this is really sending me over to the edge of tears.

"Nonsense. You are part of this business. You've done so much for this place so you deserve this. Don't worry, they said yes to my condition."

I gave his hands another squeeze and he answered back with a fatherly pat.

"Thank you…"

"You're welcome. Just promise me, when you become a doctor, you'll give me free checkups, okay?"

"No, I won't. Because you will always be healthy and won't need my help at all," I said with a wrinkle of my nose.

That sent the two of us laughing.

"When will the new owners take over?"

"By the end of the month," my eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded in understanding. "I know, I know. It really happened too fast. I can't turn down the offer though. To be honest it was way beyond what the business is worth."

I sighed. "Well… as long as you are sure about them."

"I am. For now, I'll be here for a bit with you. I just need to enjoy my last days here. So just don't mind your old man, okay?"

I grinned.

"Only if you promise to give me a free cake every day you are here."

He reached out to ruffle my hair.

"Deal."

----

It was a slow day at the cafe so my boss decided to turn down the jazz music that usually floats from the speakers in lieu of the television volume. It was an odd hour in the afternoon and I found myself smiling as I watched him flip the channels over to look for a good show to watch while I dried some mugs. Just then, the overhead bell on the door dinged, welcoming with it a pair of uni-looking kids.

My boss looked over, but I was quick to jump to action instead. "I'll take care of it," I mouthed to him, to which he gave me a smile before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. What can I offer you today?"

"We'll have one dirty chai latte and one irish coffee over ice. Make it to go. "

The couple offered their names and I nodded as I punched their orders on my POS. "Would you like some pastries to go with that?"

"No, that's all."

"Got it, you can wait over there to the side. I'll have your drinks with you shortly," I said with a smile. The girl pulled the boy over into the receiving area to continue their conversation.

"So what I'm saying is, we gotta go. Tonight is going to be epic. The bets will be high for sure. We can get some mean cash if we put it in the right car."

The other gave a soft snort and started drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter. I let their conversation act as white noise while I worked behind the bar.

"I don't know. You're not even sure who is going to be there."

"Jeno is in the line-up. That at least is confirmed."

I dropped the metal scooper I was using on the floor with a resounding clang.

The three others in the room looked over to me as I hurriedly picked it up with shaking hands. I gave all parties a sheepish look before turning on my back to continue what I was doing.

This time, I was full-on listening.

"If Jeno's going to be there, then it is a goner. There's no chance for others. It'll be full-on suicide," the boy said thoughtfully. The girl, however, shrugged in reply.

"They said the others might come, too. You know, to make the run a little bit more balanced," she offered.

"You mean the seven?"

"The Four, at least."

"Oh shit."

"Uh-huh. So I'm telling you, we gotta be there man. If we can't bet then fine, but we have to see it. It’s been ages since they actually went on lane."

I didn't really know how I managed to finish what I was doing, not with how hard my heart was beating in my chest. I'm not sure how many Jeno's there are in this part of town, but I am sure as hell that there is only one who is a member of a seven-piece 'group.'

"Here's your order," I said thinly as I pushed the finished drinks over to them by the counter. The boy offered his card and I took it quickly, all the while thinking of what I should do next. The few seconds of me typing away at the terminal was the longest quarter minute of my life.

"Here's your receipt. Thank you for coming and see us again," I said, my voice a little weaker than usual. The couple gave a quick bow before turning to leave, drinks in hand.

There are two ways this could go. I could let them out of that door and have my only possible chance of getting in contact with any of the boys leave with them. Or I could call after them and…

I whipped around to call out to my boss, my figure already halfway out from the bar.

"Ahjussi, I'll be back in five minutes, sorry. I promise I'll be quick!"

He had barely looked up when I started running out the door.

-----

"Excuse me!"

The duo looked back at me, then at each other in confusion as I tried my best to hurry up to them without landing on my face. God, why do they walk so fast? They were just a few seconds ahead when they left the shop! Thankfully, they stopped at my call, giving me a chance to skid before them as I tried to catch my breath.

"Um… Is there a problem? We paid, right?" The boy asked me with an odd look. I waved my hand before finally trying to answer.

"Yes. I uh—"

Well, I obviously didn't plan this out clearly. How do I say this now without sounding like a lunatic?

"I heard your conversation earlier. You were talking about Jeno."

The pair exchanged glances again, this time tinged with suspicion. It was the girl who answered this time.

"Yes, we were. What about it?"

"I… I just want—to maybe know where he is? You were talking about tonight's—"

"The drag race?"

I stopped for half a heartbeat before nodding.

"Yeah. The race. I wanted to come, too, but I don't really know the address."

The boy cocked his brow at me in blatant suspicion. It took all of me to pull out all the basics I learned from drama class back in high school to remain calm before his withering glare.

"You know Jeno but don't know the address? That doesn't make any sense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've been in one before you should have been included in the text blast."

Oh shit.

I could feel my palms growing cold from nervousness. Still, I tried pushing on.

"W-well, I was invited before by one of them. But then things fell apart and I started not getting any of the...texts anymore," I said, not having the slightest idea of what I am saying myself. What's ironic though was that what I just blurted out was sort of a half-truth, too.

Apparently—and miraculously—it also made sense by the look of understanding that dawned on their faces.

"I see…" the girl trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked at her friend before glancing at me again.

"Look, I can give you the address, but promise me that you never got it from me when someone asks, okay?" She asked. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Are you crazy? She was already shadow banned!"

She shushed him and waved her hand off to shut him up. "Look, this is a girl thing. Don't mess with it. Just go ahead to the car, I'll take care of it."

He scoffed but stalked off towards the direction of the parking lot.

She turned towards me again and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. I watched as she unlocked the screen before showing it to me.

"Do you have your phone with ya? Here, take a photo of this address."

I swear I could almost kiss her. I scrambled to get my phone from my back pocket and didn't waste another second to take a snap of her screen.

"Thank you so much."

She nodded in understanding before locking her phone again and shoving it into her pocket. "Hey, a girl's gotta stand up for another. Who was it? Was it Haechan?"

"Um…"

She didn't wait for me to finish.

"Really, whoever it is among them, I can't really blame you. They're all cute, but they do need to be taken down a notch when it comes to girls. Those boys," she tsked. "Dangerous."

Oh…

Oh. She thought I was an ex-fling who wanted to teach one of them a lesson by crashing the race. I let that sink in before a frown settled on my features.

Well, aren't you one? The devil on my shoulder cackled at me sardonically.

"Glad to have helped though. But remember, you didn't get it from me, okay?"

With a wink, she strutted off, leaving me staring at her retreating form.

----

I told myself I simply wanted to see him again.

I reminded myself that for the hundredth time tonight as I parked my car on a free space by a gravel road, my eyes roaming the darkness beyond. The place looked deserted, and I had to do one last check if I really put in the right coordinates on my map before finally turning off my engine. The road beyond was wide but uncemented and to its left is a half unfinished building with metal banisters reaching out to the sky like skeletal arms. I swallowed. Every little thing about the space beyond screams danger.

Which probably means I am in the right place.

I reached out to zip up my jacket and pulled the hoodie over my head before getting out of my car. My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I made my way towards a low wall circling the building beyond.

Just try and take a look. You don't have to talk to him. You can keep your distance.

I repeated that in my head again and again as I approached what I assume to be the entrance. A part of me still wants to berate myself for doing this but I am too far gone to try and play the denial game again. I want, no, I need to see Jaemin's world.

The moment I passed through a crack on the wall, it felt like I stepped into a different world. It opened up into an even wider area, the shadows of a multi-lane road behind the abandoned building beyond. Milling around is a throng of people, some smoking, others sipping on red cups on their hands. Some cars were parked against the wall I just passed, their headlights on with music booming out of their rolled down windows.

I tried to swallow the lump on my throat as I looked around. Already, I felt out of place in the crowd, but I steeled myself to push on, my hands digging deeper into the pockets of my jacket.

"Hey."

I looked up to see a boy around my age wave at me. He was also holding a red cup and what looked like a bundle of paper. My eyes widened as that came into focus when he got closer.

Money.

Wads and wads of cash.

"You put your bets already?" He asked as he stuffed the bills into a small belt bag hidden beneath his oversized shirt. He pulled his phone out then, unlocked the screen, and looked at me, waiting for an answer.

"Uh…"

He gave me an odd look.

"Who are you betting on?" He asked again.

I gave the first name I could only think of.

"Ja-Jaemin," I stuttered.

That earned me a low whistle from him as he typed away at his phone, probably to record my choice of 'player.' "I don't know, man. Dude seems pretty out of it lately, but whatever floats your boat." He stuck out his hand to me then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking for.

"Oh," I scrambled to grab my purse. I was in the middle of pulling my card from my wallet when I saw his face. Slowly, I put it back to reach out for bills instead.

"Cash only."

I sheepishly handed him the last few hundreds I have. He took them, expertly flipping through each bill to count them off.

"First time, eh?"

I nodded.

I watched as he slipped the money into his already overflowing belt bag, thinking that he would leave after that. Instead he nudged his head towards the direction of the building and motioned me along.

"Come on then. At least try and get a good look at your first race."

I blinked in confusion but ran after him as he started walking away.

We stopped at the front row of the half ring of people that had already gathered in front of the abandoned rafters. Just then, a huge spotlight shone over the road behind it, driving everyone to erupt in cheers. Parked in a single line at the foot of the road are five cars, headlights opening one by one.

"Jaemin's the yellow one," the boy nodded towards the one occupying the third lane. I stared. I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to be sure that none of the ones in front of me now are something you can buy from your run-of-the-mill auto dealer. Lowered, with shining reams, and a low motor hum that reverberated to where I was standing, I could only briefly compute in my head how much each of those customized rides must have cost.

I heard the boy beside me snort amusedly. "Your first race and you get to see this. I'm telling you, this happens once in a blue moon," he said with a smirk. I didn't say anything, my gaze never leaving the yellow car.

Slowly though, I noticed the crowd's noise die down dramatically the same time that a petite form walked out from the building. The woman stopped in the middle of the road and raised her hand into the night sky, a small pistol in her grasp.

Everyone has gone so quiet now that you could almost hear a needle dropping. Just then, the resounding bang of a gunshot pierced the air. Few other large spotlights turned on simultaneously, revealing the snaking road ahead that was disguised under the darkness earlier. I gasped. The roaring sound of engines blared beyond and with a new uproar from the crowd, the cars were speeding ahead, leaving trails of light in their wake.

My heart was beating so hard against my chest as I tried my best to follow the speeding cars ahead. I was only able to comprehend the real expanse of the road the moment each ride took over its lanes—the place looked more like an abandoned air dock field more than anything else. I was barely aware of my nails digging on the palms of my hands as my eyes switched from Jaemin’s car and the others, particularly on the deep red one that he was currently toe in toe with. The space between the two were a hair’s breadth away and I could almost swear their sides would collide any second.

That went on until a curve on the road appeared. It was the last turn before the finish line and the crowd turned wilder as the nose of each car tried its best to take the lead. I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath until the last second when the yellow one took over the inner space of the road before swerving successfully ahead.

Everyone around me erupted in cheers. I gave my own gasp, hands covering my lips before joining the rest.

Jaemin’s yellow lambo parked on the finish line, the rest of the race participants trailing behind. I watched as his door opened, revealing his beautiful wide grin and tousled hair. He was glowing, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. I was so caught up in the image that I barely noticed Jeno appearing from the red car, followed by Renjun, Mark, and Haechan from the other rides.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I watched with a smile as they huddled over Jaemin, playfully pushing and cajoling him for his win. They looked happy, carefree.

But it seems like they aren’t the only ones who were out there in the road. My gaze moved back to Jaemin's car when I saw his passenger seat open. As if in slow motion, a girl got out of it, wearing the same wide smile the others have. The group hooted at her as she joined their huddle.

That’s when I felt as if time has stopped.

The smile on my face slowly faded as I watched Jaemin wrap his arms around her before pulling her into a tight hug.

---

A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be the second to the last chapter of Jaemin’s side story! I originally wanted to finish it in one go, but I thought it would be nice to release the epilogue on Nana’s birthday! So yes, that’ll be out on the 13th, lol. Thank you so much to those who have continued reading this side fic! <3

Chapter 5 (END)

Taglist: @negincho, @springdaybreaks,

118 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines · 4 years

Text

Thank you

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: L X Reader

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse.

Words: 3k

A/N: I’m in a death note phase again. I wrote this instead of doing my essay oops.

Being the girlfriend of a worldwide, secret detective was hard.

Relationships were hard enough as it is but having to make sure both the partners names were kept hidden made it even harder. Then there’s the constant travelling that takes place along with many other things.

Basically, the relationship between L Lawliet and Y/N Y/S/N was a complicated one. Don’t get me wrong, they were both madly in love with the other, but that didn’t make it any less hard.

“Y/N!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the aforementioned couple.

That’s Misa, Y/N’s best friend and often co-worker. The two met at a photoshoot where they became fast friends, the pair being able to work together due to their celebrity status.

“Hi, Misa.” A soft smile crawled onto the Y/H/C-haired girls’ lips.

She usually loved seeing Misa, but today all she wanted was to go back to her house and chill, maybe with Lawliet, maybe not. Who knows? Not her.

“Hi, Ryuzaki.” Misa greeted her best friends’ boyfriend, albeit unknowingly, before grasping her small hand around Y/N’s arm. “Bye, Ryuzaki!” Were her final words as she dragged Y/N away, unaware that she was desperately mouthing “sorry” towards her boyfriend.

“Light won’t even take me on a date, Y/N/N!” Misa whined, still talking about her ‘boyfriend’, “Isn’t that so unfair?”

“Very.” Y/N mumbled, turning the page on her magazine which lay in front of her.

She was currently lying across Misa’s bed, the pink sheets creasing beneath her. The girl’s legs were crossed in the air, the entire weight of her body being placed solely on her stomach. The magazine she was reading was something she had bought on the way back to Misa’s, hoping to share opinions on outfits or gossip about latest celebrities, something that the pair had done since they met.

“Are you even listening, Y/N/N?” The blonde continued to whine upon realizing that her friend was no longer listening to her boy drama.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Y/N’s words weren’t necessarily a lie, she was deep in thought just not about something she wished to share.

Misa didn’t know about Lawliet and Y/N’s relationship, nobody did. That was how they liked it. No one could intervene, no drama or anything of the sort. Just the two of them, happy, together.

Oh how she longed to be with him right now. The two of them together, even if they were just sitting in HQ together whilst working on the Kira case that they had been working on for months now. That was how they had met: the Kira case.

Y/N knew of his involvement, her father worked as a detective, similar to Lights. That was how she joined the investigation despite being a student. Both her father and close friend, Light, recommended her.

However, that friendship was slowly fading as she found out more and more evidence that made her suspect Light of being Kira. She’s smart, very smart, that’s why she got along with both geniuses. She fit in well with the two. But the more she investigated the case, the more she realized that Light could possibly be behind the mass murders that were causing terror across the world, especially Japan.

“Ooh! What about? Is it a boy?” Misa was now sat up on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the yellow pillow that she was previously sitting on. Her loose blonde locks fell down her back as well as over the pillow. She looked absolutely beautiful.

How did Light not love her back?

“Shut up.” The other girl huffed, tossing a pillow from Misa’s bed into the face of the owner, giggling as Misa fell backwards onto the soft carpet before bursting into a fit of giggles herself.

“You have to tell me!” The words left Misa’s lips between giggles as she recomposed herself.

“No!”

“Yes~”

The two argued back and forth for around five minutes before giving up, and bursting into a giggle fit once again, something that was common between the pair.

“So, you like someone?” Misa wiggled her eyebrows in amusement at the fact that her best friend was finally interested in someone other than fictional characters. “Tell me everything.”

Without revealing who it was, Y/N began to tell her about her ‘crush’, despite said crush actually being her boyfriend of a few months now. Ensuring that no significant details were released which could identify the man, she told her everything. Blushing was something new to her, but neither Misa nor Y/N complained. It was a refreshing change for them both.

“Wow,” The model let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding once Y/N had poured her heart out, slightly at least. “I never knew you were capable of such feelings, Y/N/N!”

“Stop teasing me~” Y/N’s hands covered her blushing face, words becoming muffled behind the skin. “This is embarrassing enough as it is,” a groan left her lips as she continued her sentence. “Besides, I doubt he even likes me back.” The final words were mumbled, self-doubt settling in as she realized that her boyfriend might not actually love her.

Logically, Y/N knew that L wouldn’t use her, or at least she hopes, and that he genuinely did value her and her opinion. He enjoyed her company and didn’t find her annoying. He really did love her, despite not having admitted it.

“Sure he does! You’re great, Y/N/N.” Misa grinned at her best friend, unknowingly providing her with a source of comfort.

“Thanks, Misa.” A sigh left the other girls lips, a sinking feeling of doubt looming over her. “I should probably get home, it’s getting late. Goodnight, Misa.”

“Goodnight, Y/N!”

Instead of heading home Y/N decided to take a late-night stroll.

The dark sky was littered with bright stars, a nice change from the usual plain nights sky in Japan. It gave an almost comforting feel to the stroller, reminding her of her childhood when she would stay up late to stare up at the midnight sky with a genuine belief that it was the world watching over her, much like the moon which was ‘following’ her everywhere she went to make sure she was safe.

It was childish, yes, but she was a child so what do you expect?

The Y/H/C-haired girl observed her breath as she exhaled. It was cold which wasn’t a huge surprise considering that it was nearing December now; winter time. Despite being extremely cold, she decided that it wasn’t time to head home just yet. Her mind wasn’t entirely clear and it wasn’t exactly in her best interest to go home with an overthinking mind, so he continued her walk.

The sound of her shoes hitting the ground was one of the only things she could hear other than the occasional passing car or truck. The streetlights lit up her view, being the only thing that did so and Y/N internally thanked whoever put them up considering she wouldn’t be able to use the torch on her phone as it had died long ago. The odd passing-by car provided her with some light also, although it wasn’t much.

It wasn’t until around 1am when she finally decided she should head home.

The house was deadly silent as she entered, but the lights were still alight, leaving the daughter of the local baker and detective confused.

“Mum?” The girls voice was slightly quiet in case she was asleep whilst still being loud enough for anyone seated downstairs to hear.

“Where have you been?!” Her mothers voice was incredibly loud, making Y/N cringe and wince. “I’ve been worried sick! How could you make your mom worry like this?”

Ah, there comes the guilt tripping. Y/N’s thoughts were awfully loud, and she cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, mom.” A frown had made its way onto her lips as she apologized.

Sure, she probably should have warned her that she was going for a walk, but there was no need to guilt trip her.

“You should be. Now go to your room!”

She simply ran upstairs.

The bags under Y/Ns’ eyes almost matched Ryuzaki’s the following day.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night as she replayed every bad moment with her mother sine childhood and believe me, there was a lot of them.

Her mother hadn’t been the best parent to say the least. She was never physically abusive, but the mental scars from her words and actions had taken a toll on her daughter throughout the years.

“Are you okay?” Lights words were full of concern upon noticing the girls tired composure. The way she stood further proved that she was exhausted considering how she was slumped over. Hands shaking also, Light was genuinely concerned, despite his status as Kira, something he knew that she suspected. “You look terrible, no offence.”

“I’m fine.” Her words were quiet, almost silent, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give a completely response but she figured those words would suffice and he would hopefully leave her alone.

Whilst concerned, Light knew not to push things when someone didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t push it further, favouring to ask if she was going to the HQ later which she was.

“Ryuzaki isn’t in today,” Lights words caught her attention, finally pulling her from her trance, “he’s working on the investigation.”

“Oh,” while her response was short, the criminal still cheered internally, glad that he had stopped her worrying, even if it was for a split second.

For the entire day she was completely ‘out of it’, unable to concentrate or even form a coherent sentence and she mentally kicked herself at her so-called failure. However she was slightly grateful that there was no exam today, knowing she would have most definitely failed. She probably wouldn’t have been able to write more than three words.

Y/N’s walk to HQ was lonely as she desperately craved some human contact.

She really needed a hug.

As though in a trance, the girl scanned herself into HQ and headed towards the main room where she knew everyone would be.

“Hi, Y/N,” Matsuda’s cheerful greeting caught Ryuzaki’s attention. Well, more like the name of the person he was greeting.

Nobody could have known however, unaware of the short-lived glance he had spared towards her. This short glance told him a lot: she hadn’t slept, she was deep in thought and she felt… crap.

This worried the detective immensely. He really did care for the girl; a lot more than he would admit. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to risk facing rejection.

It would hurt.

“Hi.” The response she gave Matsuda was blunt, emotionless which L wasn’t happy to hear.

She never used that tone. She was usually cheerful. It must be bad.

“You guys can go for a break. You’ve been here most of today and it’s not nearing 5pm.” L’s words matched his girlfriends tone as usual, uncaring about the relief his words had just provided the others on the case. “Except you.” His gaze was now fixated on his love, making her internally curse at herself for being so obvious about her low mood.

The raven-haired detective waited for everyone to leave, stare unmoving as he observed Y/N’s every move and she walked towards the chair opposite him.

“What is it?” Y/N’s gaze was cast towards the ground, not wanting L to see her like this. “I’m sorry.” Her words were quick, worried that he was going to say something that would simply upset her more. “I-I didn’t mean too.”

L’s cold hand gently grasped her chin, lifting her face so that they could look at each other and he cringed slightly as he saw the tear threatening to fall from her eyes.

Okay, he is now really worried.

“What’s wrong?” His words were quiet but still laced with genuine concern, along with his eyes. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” The words stumbled from her lips, only worrying him more. “C-can I just go today? Please.”

L simply nodded, watching as she dashed from the HQ and out of his sight.

“Why do you keep disappearing?” Y/N’s mothers voice was the first thing she heard as she walked through the door.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N begged, simply wishing to be alone.

She made an attempt to dash upstairs, only to be stopped by her mothers tight grip around her wrist as she spun her around to face her. A hash slap hit the younger girls face with such a force that they both knew would leave a mark the following day.

“Y-Y/N…” Upon realisation of what she had just done, her tight grip around her daughters wrist loosened, hand dropping to her side.

“Never talk to me again.” YN’s words were quiet yet laced with venom before she finally dashed up to her room, one goal in mind:

Leave.

Her movements were quick as she packed her bag, tears leaking from her eyes in both pain and sadness,

Within minutes her bag was packed, tossed over her shoulder before she ran downstairs.

“Please don’t leave.” Her mother’s plead fell on deaf ears, the only response coming from the closing of the door as she watched her daughter leave, neither of them knowing if she would ever return.

It was cold. Very cold and Y/N cursed herself for not bringing a jacket, being in a skirt and t-shirt which was the same outfit she had worn to school today.

Shivering, she began her long walk towards HQ, something she knew would take a long time.

“What happened to you?” Detective Yagami’s voice was filled with panic upon seeing the tear stains on her cheeks as well as the bright red bruising hand-mark.

Lawliet payed no attention to his remark, simply assuming that Matsuda had had a clumsy accident yet again.

“Please, can I just sit down?” Was what captured his attention, the soft and exhausted voice being one he recognised immediately.

“O-of course.” Soichiro’s words were rushed as he signalled towards the seat he had previously occupied which Y/N gratefully took.

L spun on his chair to look at the girl, breath hitching as he took in her appearance.

He caught her gaze and she had looked up after hearing the spinning of the chair and she thanked whatever gods there were that it was simply the three of them.

“Detective Yagami would you mind if we have a moment?” L’s stare was unmoving as Yagami nodded, leaving the room.

“R-Ryu…” Her voice sounded broken, eyes filled with pain and he soon noticed the bag on the ground, quickly coming to the conclusion that something had happened at home, presumably with her mother, and she had ran away.

L quickly climbed onto his feet, opening his arms which Y/N gladly ran into, breaking down into sobs. His hand placed itself on her hair, burying itself into her hair as her face buried into his chest. L was uncaring as her tears soaked through his white tee; he only cared that she was okay. They stood like that for a long time, L providing comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“Come on,” L broke the silence as his girlfriend calmed down, her breath evening out, “lets get you to a room.” He offered her a hand as she pulled away, one she took with extreme gratitude, appreciating that it must have been hard for him to give her any affection.

Their hands never parted as they climbed the stairs of the HQ, heading towards Y/N’s new room. Ryuzaki had thrown her bag over his shoulder, the heavy weight of the bag not affecting him one bit.

The room was empty, and it was clear nobody was staying there.

The noise of the bag dropping to the ground was loud, startling Y/N whilst Lawliet remained unaffected, having been the one that had caused the noise; not that it would have scared him anyway.

Y/N was led towards the made bed by the detective, sitting herself down as he wordlessly instructed before taking a seat beside her.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother.” She apologised, making L shake his head in disagreement.

“You could never be a bother, Y/N. Not to me.” His words were less monotone than usual, less devoid of feeling. There was a genuine tone coming from him. “Matsuda’s a bother, not you.” He spoke which made the shorter girl chuckle, something she felt she hadn’t done in ages, despite it having only been a day, #

“Thanks, Ryu. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closely towards him until her warmth was felt by him. “I-“ He paused as he began to speak, extremely aware of what he was about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his sudden silence.

“I love you.” His words were quiet, almost unheard had it not been for the fact that the room was deadly silent.

The pair fell into an awkward silence for a moment before L got up to leave, apologising as he did so.

“Wait,” Y/N’s hand wrapped around his own, “I love you too.”

A small smile made its way onto both of their lips, L walking back over to the girl until he was stood directly in front of her. She watched closely as he bent down, unsure of what he was about to do. The second his lips touched her forehead a huge blush flowed across her cheeks.

“R-Ryu…?” Her embarrassed voice sounded, the only response she earned from him being a small smile before he gave her a pat on the head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.” She called, making him stop in the doorway.

“Anytime, Y/N/N.” The use of the nickname only made her blush harder.

427 notes · View notes

wthtorke · 4 years

Note

Can I get a human saving crucified predator and they escape together on the ship and live happily ever after?

You wouldn't die here. You refused to. Stuck with a group that would leave you behind as bait if the chance was there, no. You refused to.

As your group was chased yet again, everyone darting towards a general direction in hopes not to get murdered by the aliens, you took your chance. Running in the opposite direction, towards their camp, praying they were too busy with the others.

There was one of them in the camp. No, he was like them, but not one of them. You could tell the difference.

He was strapped to a pillar, arms painfully strained back as they held all his weight, breathing barely there. He looked sickly, skin too pale, muscles twitching, and face tiredly. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, not if you freed him.

Even then, being an alien, you couldn't help but feel for him. He looked ashamed, still enough fire in him to roar and snap at your group when you had approached, tusks flaring and tresses whipping in a way that told he wasn't dead, not only that but he was still dangerous.

Ignoring every instinct you had about this, you carefully made your way around the camp, spotting him in that same pillar, head jerking up when he heard your footsteps, growling as his tusks twitched. Warning.

You take a shaky breath and an even shakier step towards him, holding both of your hands up to show you meant no harm. -"Come on man, I mean-, well yeah, man? I think you're a dude, sorry if you're a lady," you said nervously approaching, "It must hurt a lot h-huh?" You stuttered as a particular louder growl made you jump a little bit, "B-Bet I could help" You gulped, staring at the fallen blade close to the pillar, "But let's agree on something first, y-yeah?", his growling took up at the mention of a bargain, spikey brows furrowing together in anger. -"I know, it sucks but we need each other, right? You're too...um...handsome to die here and I'm...well, I'm too fucking young," You said, picking up the blade, pointing it away from him.

-"I'm gonna take you out and we um, we flee I guess, yes? Fuck, I hope you can understand me, I didn't pay attention at school so if you speak Spanish I'm so sorry but I suck," You cleared your throat, "So, you, me, and ship?" You said, pointing at him, yourself, and then making a flying away motion with your free hand, "Forever, far away, yeah?" You continued, hand going further and further away, his eyes following your hand briefly before his gaze burned back into you.

You nodded, lifting the blade, watching for his reaction. When he didn't growl or flinch, you landed a hit against the shackles, the alien falling stiff onto the ground, limbs numb and painfully set to stone from being like that for days.

You gasped as in a blink he was up again, grabbing you by your shirt and bringing your face close to his, tusks flaring as he growled, analyzing your face closely, the bottom tusks scraping against your throat ever so slightly, making you shiver, eyes widening as you tried not to move.

He must have found whatever he was looking for as he let you go. Not shoving you back or pushing you down but simply releasing you, walking away to retrieve his cracked mask from the ground. Snapping it in place, you jerked back as his whole armor shone bright with electricity before the lights vanished completely. "Whoa ma-," You didn't get to finish your sentence as he grabbed you again, just in time for distant screaming to reach your ears.

The group. The aliens.

Your legs barely touched the ground as he all but hauled you with him, running towards an open clearing. Only to have you cursing as he pressed a few buttons into his wrist gauntlet, the ship's cloaking device turning off much to your relief and worry at the same time.

Losing no time, Crucified opened the gate, grabbing your arm and running in, sealing it closed behind him. Rushing to the main panel, Crucified set to work on getting the ship ready to go, not that he knew where to. Just away from death was good for now. He growled and pointed at one of the three oversized thrones that were set by the panels. “You got it, chief! No need to ask twice!” You sat down, pulling on the straps around your form, adjusting them to secure your smaller body, trying not to think which of the three space Michael Myers sat there before.

Thoughts were cut short when a victorious roar left Crucified’s mask, the ship quickly acting on its commands, lifting off the ground, your heart hammering against your ribcage as hard as the ship shook with power as it took off. Your smile lasted for three seconds until the panels went blood red and sirens started blaring, Crucified roaring in anger as he pressed many buttons at once, fingers moving fast and with purpose as a blue blast of energy hit the front window, making you scream in surprise and cling to your chair. They were trying to take the ship down.

Panicked screaming died in your throat as you panted looking at Crucified, ‘hurry’ and ‘do something!’ wouldn’t help now, and if you did survive, you surely did not want to be stuck with an angry alien for a whoever knows how long ride in space. You did scream again, however, as another blast whacked against the glass, a light blue shield lifting seconds after.

Crucified growled as he kept fighting for control of the ship, accessing the main server of the ship, putting up his defenses to make it recognize Berserker’s trials to blow up the ship as a threat and not just a command from the ship’s owner.

While still having to pilot the ship away from the reserve.

Crucified forced the stiffness away from his fingers as he finally won the battle for control, activating the space rift control, which lit up another two buttons before the other two chairs. Crucified roared at you, tresses whipping as he pressed the button in front of him while holding the shield up manually with his other hand.

Eyes widening, you slammed both hands onto the panels from the chair you were on, the button in front of you and the one almost too far off to reach turning green along with Crucified’s, a beam blasting from the ship and out into the sky, opening up a rift that led to an obscure somewhere in the galaxy. Crucified let go of the button, speeding the ship towards the rift as yet another canon blast hit the back of the ship. You closed your eyes as the ship neared the rift. All the sirens and noises suddenly ceasing seconds later.

Panting hard, you only opened your eyes as you heard Crucified dropped down on the chair at your side, head snapping to look at him, whose chest was rising and falling just as fast as yours. You looked around, noticing that you were not in the reserve anymore. That instead of jungle and death, you were now surrounded by stars and -possible- death. The panel still looked red but in a soft glow, as if things were fine now.

You looked back at Crucified to find him looking back at you. Realization caught up as you started chuckling in relief, hand coming up to your forehead to wipe off the sweat of dread and panic. Chuckling evolved to a soft laugh soon enough, “You’re fucking genius, partner,” You said as he huffed, straightening up to mess with the panel again.

-“I don’t know about you but-, I have no idea what to do now” You laughed nervously, Crucified stilling his movements as he considered this. He shook his head slightly.

He also didn’t.

-“Humans suck,” You started, Crucified huffed. “Your kind also sucks, apparently,” Crucified....couldn’t deny that. “What I see is that you don’t suck and I, well...I try not to suck, so-, what do you say we just-, watch each other’s backs for now, yeah? Just-, y’know, as friends? Partners?” You said, hopefully.

Crucified slowly turned to face you, the passive expression of the broken mask not giving you any hints of his actual expression, even if you could see a bit of his left eye through the hole in it.

-“Partners.”

You sighed in relief, smiling brightly, “Partners! We’re gonna be best mates, you’ll see!”

After a year of living together on the ship, not only watching each other’s backs as it was first agreed but taking care of each other, a bond was fully formed. And a year after that, your prediction proved to be right, only that it was a different kind of ‘mates’ that you and Crucified would come to be.

Not that any of you complained, living your best life as best mates could. Together forever.

#yautja #yautja x reader #Yautjas #predator #predators #The Predator #Alien #Aliens #yautja/human #human/yautja #Headcanon #request #reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 30, Post 1 by @blimeypeople

Hi! This is my first time writing a fiction story in English (I'm not a native english speaker) and it's unbetaed :( If you have time to spot something wrong or if this story doesn't make any sense, just let me know, pretty please?

Thanks for hosting this fest. You're all so awesome!

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Title: Don’t run, please.

Author: blimey,people

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Prompt: Parenthood

Rating: G

Hermione Granger-Weasley really thought her life was perfect, that she had achieved everything she wanted and made her heart happy: she had a husband who loved her, a job she enjoyed, saw her friends and family whenever she could (well Sunday lunches at The Burrow were an unwritten rule but she enjoyed them a lot), but then what was she doing running through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic? Hiding from her husband, that's what she was doing. She turned on the corner of one of the corridors, she was no longer running, but she was walking hurriedly heading in the direction of the main library of the Ministry, so big and wide that not only was it difficult to locate the books you needed, but also the people that were inside. The best hiding place, Hermione thought and quickened her pace when she saw him: Ron, standing in front of the large wooden doors, staring at his shoes in his scarlet Auror team uniform, which was somewhat wrinkled. Probably coming back from training, Hermione barely had time to think when she turned around running to the opposite side. They were quite far apart, so it wouldn’t be that easy for him to reach her but he was faster.

"Hermione!" She heard him scream, but she couldn't stop, she was scared, she was afraid of having a conversation with him. She accelerated her escape as she felt his footsteps getting closer.

"Hermione! Don't run, please! " She had heard that voice a few times. Her memories took her to a particular occasion, when she was also hiding, but from evil forces who wanted to end their lives and the life of their best friend. She couldn’t resist his voice, she had resisted it countless times while he asked her for forgiveness inside the horrendous tent. It hurt her soul, it hurt her not being able to hug him telling him how much she loved him, but her pride won. Only months later, she was able to achieve what her heart and mind most wanted: to reveal her feelings and be reciprocated. Now her heart and mind told her this was far more important, that this could perhaps destroy the relationship that with so much love, time and dedication they had built, this could possibly end one of their most cherished dreams, burst the bubble of joy and emotion that had appeared inside them almost three months ago. This could take away their most precious gift: their future child.

So she stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for him to catch up with her. It didn't take many seconds when she felt his long fingers capture her left wrist leading her towards a deserted office.

I should’ve flooed home, Hermione thought as she walked alongside Ron. He would have found me there in an instant though, I should’ve gone to..., she tried to complete the thought, when she was struck by doubt. Her choices were limited in terms of places where she could just go to think without being seen, without being interrupted, no questions being asked by anyone. Her childhood room in her parents' house might have been a great option, but now recently her parents had semi-retired from their jobs (occasionally they went to the office in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, at times they took turns and one of them stayed home while the other went to work), thus Hermione didn't know for sure when the house was thoroughly empty. Besides if they found her in her old room on a Friday lunch, at the time in which she should still be at the Ministry plus they were aware that, due to her almost obsession with completing every unfinished task at the end of the week, Fridays were her most complicated days at work, it would potentially lead them to ask her thousands of questions and if she chose to answer truthfully, as she had done since she met them again in Australia two months after the war, tired of hiding things from them. This time, though, she was certain they wouldn’t be as understanding as they were back then. Now the situation wasn't just about her, it involved someone more important and vulnerable, someone they hadn't met yet but they already loved.

Her parents, Jean and Hugo, were over the moon since the day they learned about the arrival of their first grandson or granddaughter. The imminent growth of their little family filled them with infinite joy. On countless moments, mainly when Hermione and Ron would give them the news about the birth of a new child in the ever growing Weasley family, the faces of Jean and Hugo gave away what they wanted: they were dying to ask her when she and Ron would finally decide to have one of their own. Therefore they were ecstatic. The decision to adapt a room on the first floor as a playroom for their future grandson or granddaughter came easily. Well, we don’t need a library anymore, do we, Hugo?, said her mom. It took them a week to disappear the shelves loaded with books that were once part of the room. Toys, kids books, little stuffed animals, big stuffed animals, a white cot and the largest most colorful collection of clothes Hermione had ever seen overflowed the rather large space. Apparently, her mother considered it was better to have more variety than later needing a neon green footie embroidered with dinosaurs and not having it on hand. Her father, more serene and restrained, but just as enthusiastic, had bought a beautiful memoir book for the baby, where he himself would be in charge of writing down every detail of his or her first year of life. However, Hermione was sure something was wrong with her for she hadn't been able to share the same level of enthusiasm of her parents or her husband hence she just smiled everytime they mentioned the baby. Therefore, she was certain Jean and Hugo would probably agree with Ron on this issue. So now he was being proven right, they would help him convince her to "do the right thing for the baby." Except she honestly couldn’t discern what was right anymore so the confusion and fear consumed her. She loved her job, enjoyed the responsibilities that came with it, rejoiced in every new challenge she encountered no matter the outcome, she was sure of it. Her newly discovered feelings for the little human being growing inside of her were what confused and scared her at the same time.

Ron guided her to an old and solitary chair within the rather desolated office gently helping her to sit on it. Rather than sitting beside Hermione, he stood in front of her and crouched down. He took one of her hands, placed it on top of her knee, gently stroking it.

“Hermione, the evidence is overwhelming. If they were able to send an object specifically charmed to harm you into your office, it is because they aren’t our most common enemies. It means they are doing their homework figuring out your routines. They’ve been following you for at least a few weeks. They knew that only us usually go there so you would open the package without a second thought,” Ron couldn't control the tone of sadness, anger and despair as he spoke.

Minutes before lunch, Hermione received a small package wrapped in a black paper with little stars, the wrapping of Hermione's new favorite bookstore in Muggle London. She frequently went there alone and sometimes Ron accompanied her. She ran to get it, unwrapping it in an instant. She didn’t even have time to see the title of the literary work, when the book came to life and suspended in the air began to hit her repeatedly, increasingly hard on the chest, arms, legs. Her wand was on the handbag she regularly took to lunch. The book kept hitting her, in one moment heading for her belly. Hermione started to scream, moving as far as she could from the object. In seconds, the auror who was stationed outside her office managed to undo the spell. It wasn’t the first threat, that's why the auror guarded her office. Whoever was behind it, had tried to harm her on previous occasions but they had never been so close to actually hurting her. The spell was very powerful, the package was able to pass the rigorous inspection of the experienced auror. A mother who genuinely loved her child would already be home, protecting him or her by being away from danger, the thought stunned her. She began to run through the corridors of the Ministry even when she heard the auror screaming for her to stop. She didn’t want to see anyone, especially Ron, who a week ago had almost begged her to stay home for a few days while they determined who was threatening her.

“Harry and I are very close to identifying who is doing this, Hermione. We just need you to get away from danger a bit… ” Ron started, looking her straight in the eyes.

“I don't want to quit my job, Ron, not after working so hard for many years. I'm nearly there with the house-elf protection law… "

“I know about all the work you've done, Hermione. I would never ask you to do it, if it weren't for… "

"The baby," Hermione completed looking down, "I understand Ron, but I honestly don't think it's necessary ..."

"Not putting our child at risk is more than necessary, Hermione, it will only be a few months," Ron interrupted quickly.

"Ron, I can't. So many magical creatures trust in me..."

"They will continue to trust in you when you return," said Ron.

"We said having a child wouldn't alter our lives, that I would continue working, you know I don’t want to be a stay at home mum." Hermione felt Ron's hand tighten on top of hers.

"It's not that. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if the situation wasn't like this," argued Ron, "Tough I must say you were the one saying having a child wouldn't alter our lives. I think you were trying to convince yourself. For my part, I believe that many things are going to change, things we won’t be able to control."

"Ron…"

"I reckon you're getting scared ..." Ron continued coming closer and reaching her shoulders to hug her.

"I'm not…" Hermione tried to interrupt and wriggle out of the hug. But he knew her better than anyone. Hermione was sure he had noticed her doubts, insecurities and fears even before her.

"I am scared too, I'm not just talking about the threats, because I can assure you that we are going to find out who is behind everything and he’s going to pay for putting you through this," his voice was harsh and he had struggled not to shout during the last sentence. "I’m positive you're scared for him or her too," his voice had taken a delicate, sweet tone, the tone he used when they fought and he wanted her to understand he was right without making her feel too bad.

"You are doubting yourself, asking that brilliant mind of yours a ton of questions, not finding answers. You’re wondering if you’re going to do a good job or if you will love him or her enough. The fact is, Hermione, the love you will feel towards our child will never be enough, it will be infinite", he raised one of his hands caressing her cheek, “It's not about doing a good or bad job, love. It's about doing the best we can in our own way, making mistakes and learning together, because you do realize we're in this together, right?” Ron delicately squeezed her cheek, Hermione looked up, her beautiful blue eyes pierced through her with the deepest love, he lowered his hand placing it on her still small belly, “He or she deserves the world, I assure you we will give it to him or her when the time comes. What we can do now is protect our little one, we are not going to let anything happen to him or her. Okay, we should definitely find out if it’s a boy or a girl, I'm getting tired of this”, he grinned.

In that instant, Hermione felt within her how the little life Ron and she had created began to move and the most profound love, love she only felt for the man in front of her, completely invaded her. Ron gave no sign of feeling it, but it wasn't necessary. She placed her hand on top of Ron's, looked him straight in the eye, and nodded. He smiled at her, hugging her tightly.

At this precise moment in her life, despite her insecurities about her ability to love and protect her unborn child, the certainty of knowing Ron never made vain promises began to fill her with strength and hope. If he firmly believed everything would be fine, it would be. If he was by her side on this adventure, there was no doubt the next few years would be different, challenging, but wonderfully incredible.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione

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gwoongi · 4 years

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wordless pt.4

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst, crack, fluff rating: mature words: 3.5k warnings: toxic relationships, non graphic sex a/n: u guys asked and i delivered...tag yourself i’m me saying dancer in the dark was coming first....i was wrong...this is also very sweet considering part 5 will not be :D enjoy while u can!

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(31) Pulling a chair out for them to sit down at the table.

Jeongguk’s not a gentleman.

Everybody knows it, and he’s not ashamed of admitting it. Half of the time, he thinks that it’s what makes him unique, at least. If you (or anybody else, even though since you walked out on him that one time, he’s been seeing all the others less and less) were going to be with somebody, then you might as well just make it different. Spice it up a little bit.

“It will be nice.” Jeongguk, because he’s not a gentleman, is not really listening to you. He sits behind the steering wheel and tightens his hand against the wheel, the other is on the clutch.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No,” Jeongguk replies. He turns the corner, and the car slightly leans you to the right.

A sigh fills the car as he pauses as a set of traffic lights further down the street.

This red light drags forever, and Jeongguk sighs instead and looks at you pointedly, “What, then?”

It takes reluctance to pull your gaze away from the pigeons near the bins on the side of the road, but you do, and you look at Jeongguk. “I just think it will be really nice to grab dinner together.”

“We do that all the time,” Jeongguk says.

“Yeah, but I don’t mean us, or just us,” you affirm, “I mean, like all of us. Family, I guess.”

Jeongguk bristles. “Family? We don’t have any family, baby.”

“We do,” you moan. “I mean. Not family-family, but family. The kind of family we get to choose. Taehyung, and Eunji and whoever.”

Jeongguk nods sarcastically, “Oh. Wrong F word, Y/N, those people are called friends.”

“Oh, whatever then,” you huff, turning back towards the window. “Forget I said anything, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk wants to forget, but he doesn’t. Something about that line, about the way that it stuck with him: The kind of family we get to choose. He thought about it all night, groaned, and then swore and called Taehyung. Alright motherfucker, we’re going to dinner with Y/N so you better shut the fuck up, get a suit, and meet us at that fancy Gangnam restaurant.

So, it’s a Friday evening, and it feels like a Disney Channel crossover episode. Eunji definitely feels out of place in this restaurant, and Jeongguk acts uncomfortable about the way Taehyung sits opposite you, gauging your every move and word with overacted enthusiasm. Actually, all Jeongguk is thinking about is the moment that they got here.

“Here, honey, let me get that for you,” had appeared to be Taehyung’s favourite sentence to say to you; he used it when he opened the door for you, and again with the chair to the table. Jeongguk sat seething, almost red like a ruby. Eunji sips nervously from her glass as Taehyung laughs again at something you said.

Dinner went great, he would have to admit that.

“Oh, we booked the patio for desserts,” Taehyung says. One of Jeongguk’s other friends, Seokjin (who honestly came to observe rather than to fill in for the surprising lack of family at this family dinner) looks left and right to each person on the table and follows the crowd as they leave for the patio once the main courses are done.

Taehyung once again reaches for the door and lets you walk outside. As Jeongguk passes Taehyung at the door, he glares at Taehyung with eyes that could murder. Taehyung doesn’t waver but he does get the hint, even more so as you stroll towards the table. Before Taehyung can even move towards the table, Jeongguk curves in front and puts his hand on the back of your chair.

“Here you go, baby, let me sit next to you,” Jeongguk says, dragging it out for you to sit. You watch him with one raised eyebrow but say nothing. Taehyung says nothing for a few minutes but decides to get right back to it as the desserts begin. It pisses off Jeongguk to the point where his hand leaves fingerprints in your thigh, but you can’t find it in you to be mad about it.

(32) Wrapping a blanket around them when they are sitting on the couch and watching a show.

“You gotta stop letting yourself in here, it scares the shit out of me.”

“I own this dump.”

You gape over your shoulder, “Fucker, you own this dump that you call a dump but you gave me this dump, it’s my dump, don’t call it a dump.”

“Say dump one more time,” Jeongguk warns, shrugging off his jacket and ruffling his hair. It’s wet thanks to the torrential rain outside. His socks squelch across the floor because he left his slippers back at his place, and he’s not here often enough to have his own pair at your apartment.

The apartment is toasty and warm, the heating on high. Except the living room is chilly and dark, dark blue almost.

“What are you watching?”

Jeongguk moves towards your bedroom but can still hear you as he moves.

“Just this show I found,” you reply, watching the screen. “Dead To Me.”

“Never heard of it,” he yawns, and emerges from the room. He’s holding a heavy blanket in his arms, moving to the living room to sit next to you. He plops next to you and glances at the screen, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, over your head like a cocoon.

You laugh softly, shifting it off your head and leaning up against him. “It’s American. It’s got Velma in it.”

“Linda Cardellini?” Jeongguk asks, settling back. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“I know, that’s why I thought I’d watch it, I love her,” you say.

Jeongguk wraps an arm around your shoulder and smushes closer towards you.

“Good day?” you ask quietly.

He takes a few seconds, like he’s truly trying to think about whether he wants to answer or not.

“Okay,” he admits. “Don’t care, it’s over, I’m here, don’t wanna think about work.”

You don’t push him to talk, and instead, let him sit next to you. He likes the darkness because there’s no way you can see his discomfort, his pain, the blood under his fingernails.

(33) Throwing away their piles of tissues when they have a cold.

Jeongguk travels for work a lot, and it’s no secret to anybody he knows. It was midday when he got a call, just a few words over the phone, and then he was moving out of the shower and into the bedroom to get ready.

He had told you to stay, stay until he got back. Unfinished business, he said, that would need dealing with when he got home. So you did, you stayed and he left, and that was that.

Jeongguk sighs and shuts the car door. Until next time, he thinks to himself as he watches the car pull away. Frowning, he straightens his blazer and walks up the steps to the complex he lives at and enters. When he gets to his apartment, he kicks his shoes off right away and as he steps inside, he notices that the apartment is unusually silent.

Normally at his home, his big mansion that he loves up in the hills, there’s some sort of noise. Maybe it’s the sound of the TV on in the kitchen, or the bubbles in the hot tub, or the sound of Elio prowling around the bedroom. This apartment is in central Seoul, closer to work and closer to school. He hates how silent it is, how empty it feels.

“Y/N?”

There is no instant reply. He moves across the apartment, searching silently.

“Babe, you here?”

Worry bubbles in his stomach and he moves in search of you. After searching everywhere, Jeongguk scoffs like it’s a sick joke that you’re not here, until he hears a noise, a croak and a cough from the spare bedroom.

“Y/N?” calls Jeongguk. He moves to the door and twists the handle, and is a few shuffles inside when a grottal, gross noise emerges from the darkness.

“What?” he asks.

“I said don’t come in here,” you croak out in reply, because it’s you, and who else would it be in his apartment?

Jeongguk enters and reaches for the light, pausing when you grunt in his direction. He can see you in the dim light of the spare bedroom, the sun outside the curtains, and he suppresses a smile.

“What happened? I said we had unfinished business.”

“I know,” you rasp. “But one of the kids in my class came to the lab with a sore throat, I thought I’d be fine. But, ta-da.” He can see in the light that there’s a plethora of tissues around your body, like a barrier. So many, snotty and probably damp and scrunched into balls. “Guess he had a cold.”

He grimaces, shuffling into the bedroom despite you telling him otherwise. It’s unsurprisingly stuffy in the room, a given since the room is closed off from the sunlight that bleeds behind the curtains. Like you requested, he doesn’t turn on the lights, keeping you safe in the darkness.

“Shitty kids,” Jeongguk grunts. Finding a lack of interest in the germs that breed in the tissues scrunched into balls, he moves them from the covers and tosses them towards the small bin next to the bedside cabinet. You sniffle, snotty and stuffed, and peer from over the duvet at him.

Jeongguk looks tired, as he always does when he gets back from work. He sports a brand new cut on his lip, one that will probably scar when it’s done showing crimson. There is blood on his shirt, and you know that it’s probably not his. That doesn’t make you feel better.

“How long you had it?” Jeongguk asks.

“Two or three days,” you estimate. He’s been gone almost a week, the seventh day being tomorrow. “Should go soon, don’t worry.”

He smiles, “Not worried. Did you get medicine, or something?”

You sniff once, the air hot in your nostrils. “Nope. I haven’t managed to leave since I came down with it. I only went to the door to collect soup and then I went back to bed in here.” Another sniff and Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise with amusement, “Didn’t want to infect your bedroom, so I came here instead. Hope that’s okay.”

“Sure, it’s okay,” he replies. “I’ll find something for you, I’ve got a bunch of shit that might help.”

“Really?”

Jeongguk nods, “Yeah. Stay put, buttercup, B-R-B.”

(34) Mending an item of their clothing that was ripped.

“Who even takes the subway anymore?”

In reply, Jeongguk gets an appalled scoff. “I’m sorry, not all of us are rich enough to have fucking chauffeurs taking us places.”

“What’re you talking about, you’re rich,” Jeongguk says, his voice kind of muffled due to the sewing needle between his teeth. He sits on the edge of his sofa, your skirt spread over his lap like a napkin at dinner. Down the leg, the seam is torn, showing what could have been an erotic amount of leg. Unfortunately, he’d only got a glimpse of your skin when you shuffled into his home.

As the CEO of ripping his clothes, Jeongguk became familiar with sewing over the years, figuring it was less expensive to sew than it was to replace. So, of course, when your skirt got torn on the subway home, Jeongguk tested his principles and dug out the sewing needle.

“No thanks to you,” you sigh. “You didn’t need to, by the way.”

“Need to what, pay you?” Jeongguk laughs, sewing the seam. “Come on, Y/N, it’s overdue.”

“True, but I don’t really need your money that much anymore.”

“Funny, since you needed it when you didn’t have it,” he sighs dramatically. “Anyway, it’s barely a dent out of my bank account, I wanna spoil you. You’re welcome.”

You frown, shuffling to the couch and throwing yourself over the back so that your head is by his legs. Jeongguk spares you a glance from the skirt and smiles, returning back to the work.

“Thanks,” you mumble. Nothing is said, but he appreciates it, even if he did it out of guilt.

(35) Running out in the middle of the night to get a food item they’re craving.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“What the fuck?”

Jeongguk shoots up from bed into a sitting position, his eyes blown wide as he stares at you. Whenever Jeongguk invites you to stay at his apartment, he always keeps a light on in the evening. His apartment is in a somewhat busier area compared to his house, which is stationed in a private neighbourhood only touched by the wealthiest of the wealthy. His apartment was supposed to be for ease, for if he had to do dirty work in the city and didn’t want to tie his name to a hotel. It wasn’t often that you stayed the night here.

In the light of the dim lamp on your side of the bed, Jeongguk can make out your face. You’re still lying down, staring up at the ceiling. After he stares long enough, you look over at him.

“Why the fuck would you say that,” he breathes, like it’s an insult.

“Wow, would it really be so bad?” you ask, curious now.

He blinks like an owl. “Obviously, dipshit.”

Sigh. “And here I was thinking it would be like the movies and you’d love me.”

“Even if I loved you, do you think I wanna have kids?” Jeongguk questions rhetorically, because he’s actually already talked to you about this. Jeongguk never wants to have children. His life is constantly on the line. There is no way he’d bring a child into the world, just for them to either be used as bait, or grow up in a world without their father. He knows how that feels.

“Fair,” you reply. “Still.”

Jeongguk shudders, it’s cold in here. “Wait, are you for real?” He shifts, the covers make a disruptive noise in the night, “what makes you think that you’re...you know…”

“I keep getting weird cravings,” you explain, like it’s the craziest science that he won’t understand. As soon as you say it, he feels almost instantly better. It’s not like cravings are the most reliable symptom of a pregnancy. Besides, you’re on the pill, and when you’re not, he’s safe. He’s not an idiot, he’s not about to accidentally ruin both of your lives with a few squirts.

“Like what?”

You shrug, “Really craving the Fairway to Heaven ice-cream.”

Jeongguk scoffs. Actually, it’s almost a tch under his breath. “Yeah, of course, you’re craving the most expensive icecream. Predictable. Cute, almost.” He pats your leg over the covers, “We all know Phish Food’s the better flavour, by the way.”

“Tell that to the cravings, sir,” you reply. You frown, then, “I’ll pick some up tomorrow. Maybe I’ll dream the cravings away…”

“As if,” Jeongguk barks, knowing you better. If he knows you at all (which he confidently does), you’ll press about this for the rest of the night until you fall asleep bored of trying. So, Jeongguk enjoys the last few seconds inside a warm bed before climbing out, switching on the light so it burns your eyes as the room fills with it.

“Ouch, too bright!”

“Pussy,” he smirks. “Bro, get your coat, we’re going out.”

“Oh yeah, at midnight?” you ask sarcastically, sitting up. “Where’re we going?”

“Ice cream,” he replies, like it’s obvious. To him it is. “That store down the road sells it and it closes at 2, so get your big coat and let’s get moving!”

“Are we seriously going to get ice cream at midnight?” you laugh, doing as he says.

“We both know you’re not gonna shut up about it if we don’t.”

Jeongguk grabs his own coat and zips it up. Nobody’s gonna care that he’s wearing PJ’s, and even if you’re sleepy and grumpy on the way there, it’s better than keeping you at the apartment alone. He’d have to be crazy to leave you here than he is going out for ice cream at midnight.

(36) Helping brush their hair after a shower.

You’re the best he’s had, really.

Jeongguk knows this, because he’s not stupid or blind or oblivious. Compared to the other girls he’s had, and the ones he left not too long ago, he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you. Someone who doesn’t just want him for the sex and the money. Although scary, it’s reassuring.

Jeongguk comes out from the kitchen to the bedroom where you’re sitting, hunched over a laptop watching a YouTube video that bores you to sleep. Your hair is damp and matted, left to dry as you watch. Fourty minutes into an hour video. Jeongguk narrows his eyebrows, wondering if he’d ever have the patience to watch something like that. Probably not. He barely has the patience when he works, and he has a job that demands it 99% of the time. When he can be hasty he is, but when his job is to kill and protect, patience is a must.

As you watch, Jeongguk moves to sit behind you and he sets his chin on your shoulder, boredly looking at the screen. Your eyes are glossed over, possibly not even watching at all. Regardless, he stays there and slowly rakes his fingers through your hair, straightening out the curls that are close to knots.

He still blames the video for you falling asleep, although it’s probably his fingers. He won’t admit it.

(37) Making sure to be quiet while they’re taking a nap.

It’s not just that. Jeongguk enjoys being gentle, but only when nobody can see him doing it. When you fall asleep, slouched over like a zombie, he smiles and gently closes the screen of your laptop. Whatever garbage your Uni have you watching can be watched tomorrow.

Until then, you must sleep. He moves the laptop away to the cabinet across the room and comes back, collecting you in his arms and moving you into the bed. Once the covers are draped across your body, he takes extra care to be quiet leaving the room and shutting the door. There’s some food leftover in the kitchen from dinner that he’ll eat before joining you, and you don’t wake up, not even when the bed dips as he climbs into it.

(38) Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt.

Despite his work often demanding him to be around people, Jeongguk isn’t really a big fan of crowds. If he can get out of going out in public, he will jump at the opportunity. He just can’t see why you’re so miffed about not being with the crowds of people on the Hangang Bridge waiting for the fireworks- he’s got a balcony that looks out over the city and the river, so what’s the big deal?

“It’s all about the vibe,” you say with a slight sigh. Your arms are draped over the balcony banister, legs slowly vibrating in the bitter winter air. “As a broody killing machine, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“That stings,” Jeongguk replies, closing the door behind him as he wanders back towards you with a blanket. His eyes glaze over your face as he arrives and Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “Hold your face that way and it’ll stick.”

“Heard it all before from my Mom,” you reply boredly. A quiet thanks is spoken as you take the blanket shield and snuggle closer to his chest, staring expectantly at the black sky. “What time will they start?”

Jeongguk presses his cheek to your hair. “Considering three minutes ago it was only ten to midnight, I can safely assure you that it is not time yet.”

“I’m bored.”

“Why are you so hard to please today?” Jeongguk groans. He wriggles around, “And don’t try me with that ‘I think I’m pregnant’ bullshit. Spare me the moody bitch performance for today, please?”

You pug to yourself. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right. And I shouldn’t be so...I don’t know. I’m sorry. Thank you for tonight.”

Jeongguk shakes his head slightly. He may never understand women.

“You really that mad over the bridge?” he asks quietly, his mouth against your head. It’s hot, and you lean back towards his minimal body warmth. “I’m sorry I didn’t pass your vibe check for tonight, but I thought it might be romantic or something for us to be up here.”

You almost laugh. “It is romantic. You’re right.”

Jeongguk brushes it off. Lately something has shifted, a comfort in the air that grants you permission to be in his life as someone more important than a ‘sugar baby’. Dare he say it, but Jeongguk actually considers you a friend. Now, you’re at the point where neither of you give much of a shit about the sugar clause you wrote yourselves into quite some time ago. An unspoken thing hangs there like Christmas mistletoe, seen but prayed away.

Distant laughter and a bang grows near the direction of Hangang bridge, and Jeongguk feels you perk in his arms. As a small warmth bursts across his chest, Jeongguk hisses in the cold and stuffs his hands up your shirt, where they curve around your body to cheekily hold both of your boobs. You jump, because his hands are freezing.

“You’re cold!” you whine. “What are you doing?”

Jeongguk shrugs, “My hands are freezing. I’m keeping them warm.”

You briefly glance down at his knuckles outlined by your jumper. “Oh yeah, because I’m sure that’s the reason why you’re literally groping my tits right now.”

“They feel warmer already,” he continues.

(39) Giving them your dessert when you eat out because it’s their favourite.

On the rare occasion that guilt consumes Jeon Jeongguk, he allows his guilt to control his feet. Usually, they end up on a pathway to the bedroom, or in the car where he drives you somewhere nice, or perhaps he picks you up from school instead of cruelly leaving you to take the subway. Now that things have shifted slightly in your dynamic, Jeongguk isn’t sure what flies as romantic anymore. He doesn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression. You’ve had the talk together, the one that touched upon what the future looked like and how quite definitely it looked as though you wouldn’t be with each other, but surely, dinner overlooking the sea in Busan isn’t too fancy or romantic, right?

“Here is your patbingsu.” The waiter circles around the table and gently lays a dish in front of you. Jeongguk carefully watches over his glass of wine as the waiter also announces his own dessert, the exact same. His eyes move down to the display set before him.

He’s never really been keen on dessert, but Jeongguk is the type of person who doesn’t enjoy the idea of one person eating when the other isn’t. So he had just ordered the same thing as you had, nice and simple, without giving it much thought.

“I love this,” you sigh happily, fiddling the metal spoon in your hand and peering up at him, “This is sick. Thank you.”

“I didn’t make it,” he replies.

You roll your eyes, spooning out some of the dessert, “you know what I mean.”

Something in the beach-fronted restaurant shifts as the sun sinks deeper into the ocean, and Jeongguk twirls his spoon anxiously whilst observing the patbingsu. He’s never been a huge fan of bingsu in general, and he looks with slight distaste at the green blob on top of what looks like cornflakes. He doesn’t get Korean desserts. Why can’t Korea be satisfied with an ice-cream sundae?

He dips his spoon into the dessert, taking a polite amount and very quickly taking a bite. For around twenty seconds, he thinks it’s okay, but the aftertaste makes his whole body shudder. Fucking hell, he really hates desserts.

After a few minutes, you finally move your attention away from the scraped clean dessert dish and take a glance over at Jeongguk, who is already watching you with a lack of interest for his own dessert.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, subtly wiping around your mouth just in case. You take in the sight of his unfinished treat, “not hungry?”

Jeongguk shrugs awkwardly, “I don’t really like bingsu.”

“Then why’d you order?” you question quietly.

“I panicked,” he replies, “you ordered it and I don’t like desserts but I didn’t want you to be eating alone.”

You pause, eyebrows quirked: “I don’t mind.”

He sighs. Of course. “Well…” He twirls the dessert dish and pushes it in your direction, “Since it’s your favourite, or whatever, you can have it.”

Your eyes light up, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” you squeal, happily taking it from him. “Thank you~”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes playfully and sits back in his chair. Whatever he didn’t eat from the dessert he instead eats up in the sight of you.

(40) Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh.

You don’t quite know how you ended up at Jeongguk’s work, but here you are. You could probably trace it back to Taehyung swinging by to get you from school since Jeongguk felt bad he couldn’t, and to be honest, you had been confused when Taehyung drove past the turning to your apartment and kept going further into the city.

Jeongguk’s workplace is pretty big, but still significantly hidden inconspicuously to avoid attention. As you slowly wander around the hallways, you begin to daydream about where Jeongguk’s office may be, what he might be doing and what he might think if he sees you.

Quietly passing through what appears to be a recreation room, filled with tired faces who blink curiously as you brush by, you finally step out into a web of hallways that connect to small rooms walled in glass. Each is empty, besides one at the very end that bustles with tense conversation, and you’re drawn to the sound of Jeongguk’s voice as it carries through the silent hallways.

You push forward, stopping not too close to the doorway so that if somebody who isn’t him happens to see you, you can make a hasty escape.

The room is filled with strange faces, strange men in tight suits and briefcases next to their feet. A man stands up beside Jeongguk at the head of the table, his hands animated as he presses on about something you’re not well read on. Hell if you know a single thing about gun models and firing ranges. You can just about tell apart Fortnite weapons and that’s only because they’ve got colours.

Jeongguk, however, is a sight that captures your gaze. For a while, he sits with his back turned to the man standing, his eyes observing each individual around the table, of who squirm under his watch. He eventually looks back at the man, his jawline sharp and his hair styled so that it only slightly falls into his eyebrows. God damn it, he looks sexy as hell; his shirt is black, cuffed, unbuttoned at the top revealing his skinny collarbones. He’s probably wearing the tight trousers too, the ones that make his ass look good.

A thought strikes you: how would he feel if he saw you outside? While it shouldn’t, the thought fills you with adrenaline. The idea of not him but somebody else seeing you, a girl dressed in white jeans and a red shirt, your coat discarded somewhere on an office chair. Would he be mad? Would he be turned on?

Would you die?

Deciding that the worse case scenario only involved you being yelled at, you decide to dip your toes into the water and tease the sharks; you wonder how long you can hold this silly face for until he finally notices you out there.

It seems like a long shot, and you’re quite close to giving up when finally Jeongguk returns his attention to the table. Heads begin to move in conversation, and Jeongguk’s gaze passes from gentleman to gentleman until they pause abruptly, locking onto you behind the glass. For a moment, he does nothing besides stare. Perhaps he doesn’t care. Then, his eyes widen, like he’s confused and alarmed and slightly impressed. Before his disturbed posture is noticed, you laugh to yourself and run away, back in the direction you tiptoed through.

(Later, Jeongguk finds you in Taehyung’s office sitting on an uncomfortable and torn armchair, a Rubix cube moving back and forwards in your hands. You’re not matching any colours. It’s going nowhere. He smiles.

“Field trip?” he questions, making your head snap up suddenly. He slides next to you on the free chair, “I’ll skin that prick alive, you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know, but I’m here against my will!” you promise, putting the cube down. “I really wanted to go home. Dead To Me episodes don’t watch themselves, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “I gotta go to a meeting again, then I’ll drive us home, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry I distracted you, by the way. I realise now I’m actually very lucky that it was you who saw me and nobody else.”

Jeongguk laughs, kissing your forehead as he rises to leave. “Yeah, well, I’m the most dangerous guy in there, so consider yourself very lucky.”)

#almost over #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #jjk #jeon jeongguk #bts jungkook #bts mafia #bts sugar daddy #wordless

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

peace

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[word count: 2265]

[a/n: sorry for the wait. it was my birthday last weekend so i was just chilling. but here it is, just in time for the anniversary of folklore's release. the final chapter of my folklore song series. i started this last fall, and it's now the end. thank you to all who read the story and commented and showed it love. you don't know how much that means to me, that people liked it so much. thank you for joining this journey with me, and I hope the ending is a nice little bow to finish it off]

Series Masterlist

Age: 27

Year: July 2021 [two weeks after engagement]

Location: New York

Two weeks after their engagement, Steve and Elizabeth were still living off of the high from their engagement.

They were currently spending some time in New York. Liz had just graduated from law school that spring, while Steve was still working at the same architect firm. That was actually also why they were in New York.

The company was opening another branch in New York. Steve was offered a promotion, but it would only be available at the New York office.

In the few years since Steve graduated, he's been excelling in the architect world. He's really made a name for himself. Last year he was named the "hottest" up and coming architect. Ever since then he's been very busy. His boss gave him the month off, to propose to Liz, and to take a tour of the new office.

Steve told Liz that they'd only move back if that's what she really wanted. Especially since she just finished law school, and she still needs to take the state bar exam. She would need to figure that out soon, because the NY state bar exam date was closing in on her.

She and Steve decided a month in NY would help them both decide if moving back would be best. If they did decide to move back Steve would already have job waiting for him. Liz on the other hand might not.

Luckily for her, Loki was currently working at a law firm in NY. He was able to get her an interview while she was in town. He couldn't promise her a position, as there were a lot of people up for the job, some had even interned there. But Liz still went to the interview giving it her best.

Loki and Scott moved to NY two years ago, both their jobs taking them there. They ended up eloping right before their move, two years after Thor and Wanda got married.

Thor and Wanda had officially been married for four years. They were also considering the move over to the east coast. Both of their families lived out there and it just made more sense to them, especially with them trying to start a family.

Family was a massive pro for Steve and Liz as well. Moving back would mean seeing their loved ones a lot more. Especially now with Poppy about to turn six, part of them felt like they were missing out on their goddaughter's life. Steve also missed Bucky.

Bucky was doing really well in his career. He's currently working as a sound engineer for a movie studio. A big step up from the local recording studio he started in.

He was currently looking for a place to move to in Manhattan. Now that Poppy was about to be six, and she was already going to school in the city, it was time they officially made the move.

Actually he's no his girlfriend had decided to move in together.

Dr. Jane Foster is a pediatric fellow. She was in her first year of fellowship at a private practice in Manhattan.

Bucky and Jane met three years ago, through Sam Wilson. Bucky was hesitant at first to date, because he's a single father, and his main priority has always been Poppy since the day she was born. But

Sam had convinced Bucky to go on just one date. One date was all it took. Bucky was immediately hooked. Same went for Jane.

Jane was incredibly understanding of Bucky's situation. And it also helped that she loved children.

Jane met Poppy four months into the relationship and since then everything has been going great for the three of them. Jane instantly fell in love with Poppy and Poppy loved Jane a lot. Bucky had truly never felt happier. When he was alone with his girls he felt complete. When Bucky brought up the idea of officially making the move, he and Jane made the decision to move in together. They were practically already living together at that point. They were all very excited about this next step in their relationship.

Steve and Elizabeth were watching Poppy for the day while Bucky and Jane worked. They decided to spend their day in the city, walking around what could possibly be their new neighborhood. Poppy was loving having them around, and talking up their ears about school and all the friends she has made.

Around lunch time Poppy started to get hungry and sleepy. They decided to stop at a café and get some lunch.

Liz went inside while Steve and Poppy sat outside. Poppy ended up falling asleep on Steve while they waited for Liz. Steve found himself thinking about the possibility of living there.

Truth be told part of him did want to move back. He genuinely missed the New York City way of living. As he relaxes into the sounds of the city, he hears his name being called out. He looks straight ahead, looking for whoever called him, or if they were calling another Steve. As his eyes scanned the crowd, he met the eyes of the last person he would ever think he would see again.

He was completely shocked.

"Peggy?" Steve questioned, as the woman stopped in front of the table.

"I thought that was you," she smiled, "Wow. You most certainly aren't 17 anymore."

Peggy checks him out, as he stayed in his seat. She wasn't being subtle about it either.

Steve cleared his throat, noticing the way Peggy was eyeing him up and down, "Well it has been a decade wince we've last seen each other."

Peggy glances at the sleeping Poppy in his lap.

"Is this your daughter?" She asks pointing at Poppy, then glancing at his left hand noticing there wasn't a ring on his finger.

"Oh, no. This is my goddaughter. She's actually Bucky's," Steve tells her.

"No way," she gasps, surprised by this information. At that moment Elizabeth walks out of the cafe with a number plaque for the table.

"Oh my gosh! Elizabeth?" Peggy greeted.

"Peggy?" Liz asked confused at this older version of Peggy Carter.

"Yeah," she smiled.

Elizabeth put the number plaque on the table, Peggy catches the shimmer of her engagement ring.

"Oh wow! Congratulations," she says grabbing Liz's left hand, "You have a really beautiful daughter. I'm so happy for you and Bucky. High school sweethearts, making it til the end."

Liz was confused, she looked at Steve, hoping he could get them out of this awkward, and slightly uncomfortable situation.

"Um actually, this isn't her daughter, and she's not engaged or married to Bucky," Steve says, "We're actually the ones engaged."

Peggy was taken by surprise at this brand new information, not expecting to hear those words come out of Steve's mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. My mistake," she apologizes, embarrassed.

"Well Congratulations," she awkwardly says, glancing at her watch, "I better be on my way. But hey here's my card. I moved back a couple of months ago. But we should all get dinner and catch up. There's clearly a lot I have missed."

She hands Liz the business card and walks away.

"Well that was random," Steve awkwardly laughs.

"What are the odds," Liz says sitting across from Steve, "Didn't even know she was back."

Liz cleared her throat and tried to focus on the city around her.

Con: Peggy Carter.

Steve and Elizabeth continued on with their day. At the end of the day, they dropped Poppy off at Jane's apartment and headed to their hotel.

Throughout their day there was a slight tension between the couple, it didn't go unnoticed by the both of them. Neither could figure out what the tension was. They both knew it had to do with the sudden appearance of Peggy Carter.

They laid in their hotel bed, each with a book in their hands. Their nightly read.

Elizabeth had a hard time focusing on what she was reading. She tried to force away thoughts of Peggy Carter out of her head. She flipped the page and stopped when she noticed her engagement ring. She took a long stare at it.

"Do you regret it?" She asks, turning her head towards him.

"Regret what?" He asks putting his book down and turning to face her.

"You and Peggy breaking up," she says, "Do you regret it?"

Steve is taken back by Liz's question.

"No," he shakes his head, "I don't regret it."

"Do you ever wonder what you're life would've been like had she stayed?"

Steve ponders over the question, "Truthfully? No. Once we said our final goodbyes in London, that was it. I never once gave it another thought. I closed that chapter as soon as I boarded my flight. Not that the breakup didn't hurt. Because it did. I just knew then that she wasn't my future. I never thought I would see her again."

"But you did," Liz quietly says.

"Yeah, which was weird," he says.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted out of the relationship to be with her," she says tearing up.

"What? No," Steve quickly says, sitting straight up, "I don't want that."

"I just mean, if you wanted to. I would completely understand. She was your first love."

"Yes, she was. But I don't love her," he says, "I know this is only coming up because we saw her today, and there's been this out of awkward tension in the air ever since. But I don't want to be with Peggy."

Liz glances down at her engagement ring again, trying to hide the tears of insecurity rolling down her face.

"Look at me," he softly says, placing his hand over her's, "I love you and only you. I asked you to marry me because you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You and only. Peggy doesn't mean anything to me. I haven't even thought of her since high school. You mean more to me than anything in this world. Especially more than some high school ex-girlfriend. You, Elizabeth are my entire world."

"Why would you even think that?" He gently asks

"Just seeing her and the way she looked at you before she realized we were engaged," she says, "She wanted you. Then my mind started to wonder if maybe that was a sign for you two to get back together. And maybe you'd realize you regret proposing to me."

"There isn't an ounce of regret in me that makes me feel like I'm making the wrong decision," he assures her, "There is no one else for me. You are it. Proposing to you wasn't for confidence. Proposing to you was the only thing I've ever felt so sure of. It was the only thing I've ever done that I didn't second guess. You are the only thing I've ever felt so sure of."

"This," he grabs her and and gestures between the both of them, "Is where I want to be for the rest of my life. This brings me a peace like no other. You are my peace."

Age: 27

Year: May 2022

Location: Somewhere in Upstate New York

"You are my peace," Steve sniffles, as he holds Elizabeth's hands, tears flowing down both of their faces as they stood up in front of their closest friends and families, reciting their vows.

"I don't think I would be where I am today without you and your continued support. I meant what I said years ago about following you wherever you went. All I ever want is to be by your side. Nothing else has ever meant to me as you do. My future doesn't exist if you're not apart of it. Nothing matters if I don't have you. Since the day we met, twenty years ago, I knew you would play such an important part in my life. We clearly aren't the same people we were then. Yet over the many years you haven't strayed away from being this kind supportive, understanding person. To know one day our future kids will have that as a mother, overwhelms me with joy and love. They will be the most luckiest kids in the world.

"You are it for me. You are my world. I know everyone says weddings and getting married is the start of a new chapter, but it doesn't really feel lie that for us. It just feel like our story is continuing. There's no end in sight. And I'll make sure of that, by being supportive, kind to you for the rest of our lives. There won't be a time where you ever have to question my love for you. Because Elizabeth Sanchez, you are love."

Elizabeth has tears streaming down her face. She didn't' care how she looked. The only person that mattered was the man standing before her, professing his never ending love for her.

The pastors signaled her, that it was now her turn to speak.

"I figured I'd try and keep it short and sweet, because you know exactly how I feel about you Steve," she begins, "There's only one thing I want to say, more so I want to thank you. Thank you for giving me love. An unconditional love that never seems to fade. Since day one of our relationship. You've been patient. You always say I'm the supportive one, but you fail to see that you are too. Even more than me. You've always been willing to drop everything, not just for me but for all the ones you love. Anyone who has Steve Rogers' love, should count themselves as being incredibly special. I am the luckiest pet one out of them all because I get to be the recipient of your love every single day. I am the one who gets to spend the rest of their life calling you my husband. My partner. My life. You've shown me a love like no other. So thank-you Steve, for loving me."

Folklore series taglist: @iheartsebandchris @perksofbeingabookworm @atomicsoulcollecto @void-imaginations @stumbleonmywords

Permanent taglist: @rosegolddivinity @definitelynotafangirl-blog1 @1awesomeash @princess-evans-addict @24kbratz @introvertatitsfinest @imagine-all-the-imagines @also-fangirlinsweden @rororo06 @getlostinyourparadise @small-death-and-codeine @bonkyboinkybucky @sincerely-kizzy @loudthoughts-softspoken @aquariuslavenderhoney @cherriesanwine @goalexis123 @sassyslytherinshai @loving-books-is-easier @katiaw2 @xoxabs88xox @osugahunnyicedtea @katierpblogg @thefridgeismybestie @maybeimkate @lou-la-lou @demirunner @celineann91 @marie1115 @fangirl-couch-potato @lokisironthrone @daughterofthenight117

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make-me-imagine · 4 years

Text

Red Roses: “I Love You” - Thor Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories // Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers // Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus // Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feeling?

Note: Reader is referred to as being immortal (As a power/mutation or something)

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Thor

Triggers: None Words: 1,608

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery , @fablesrose, @kitkatd7, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @beksib, @destynelseclipsa, @criminaly-supernatural, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus, @snarky--starky, @saintbootlegloras, @wecallhimbrowneyess, @empath-bunny, @okkulta, @katinthemoon, @ravennight41, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs , @goinggoinggonzo, @mxxnmocha, @fred-deeks-ben, @groovyfluxie

February 14th

You yawned as you walked through the tower with Wanda, dodging various party decorators who were scattered around. “I need a nap” you said as you yawned again.

Wanda chuckled “It’s only eight in the morning, did you not sleep?”

You shook your head “Not really. I’m too...preoccupied.”

“Still thinking about your admirer? Do you think they will tell you who they are today?” she asked, an air of excitement in her voice.

You eyed her “I know they will. They told me so in a note.”

Her eyes shined with excitement when you said this “How exciting” she mused “Do you still not know who it is?”

You sighed “No. But I have my...hopes I guess.”

“Thor.”

“Wha-, how did you know? Did you read my mind when I wasn’t looking?”

“What? No I was pointing out that he’s here.” She pointed down the hall.

Looking you see Thor entering the room, boxes in hand as he smiled at the two of you “Hello!” he greeted as he approached.

Wanda leaned towards you “Thor?”

“Shh” you said as he approached the two of you.

“Morning Thor, you’re still here? I thought you went back to Asgard?”

“I did, but I returned this morning. I wish to attend Tony’s Valentines Party” he smiled at the two of you as he reached out his arms, opening one of the boxes in his arms and revealing various pink and read donuts, all themed for the holiday “Doughnut?” .

You and Wanda looked at the Donuts with amused smiles as you both grabbed one “Thanks” you said.

“Do you know anything about Valentines Day?” Wanda asked.

“Yes. I’ve done research.”

“You researched Valentines Day?”

“Yes?” he answered, seemingly unsure of himself. You and Wanda shared a smile as Thor straightened himself up “I was just curious” he seemed to excuse “Anyway, I am going to go give these to the others, I hope to see you two later.” he smiled at you both before leaving.

Wanda leaned closer to you again “He researched it...maybe it is him.”

You met her eyes for a moment before looking back down the hall at the elevator he had entered “Maybe” you said quietly, a sense of hope filling you.

- - -

During the rest of the day, you couldn’t get the thought or hope out of your mind that the reason Thor researched Valentines Day was for you, and that it was him that left the notes and flowers. But, he hadn’t been on Earth, so it seemed more unlikely the more you thought about it. So maybe it was too good to be true.

So when you had begun getting ready for the party, you tried to open up your mind, and become more accepting to whoever it might actually be. No matter how disappointed you would feel when it wasn’t Thor.

You went to the party about twenty minutes after it started, not wanting to be there to have to greet every single person that entered, so instead you decided to slip into the already existent crowd. You found Wanda and Vision and spent some time with them before you began to feel a bit anxious. You kept catching some of the other Avengers watching you. You think they all knew, or expected whoever it was to admit their feelings to you tonight. But their eyes all being cast on you made you nervous. As if they knew something you didn’t.

Growing tired of it, you decided to take a small break, leaving the main room and walking down the hall towards the more private bathrooms you could access. As you walked down the hall, Thor rounded the corner in front of you, when you saw each other he stopped and smiled at you “Y/n!” he greeted before walking towards you “Are you leaving already?” he asked as he stopped in front of you.

“No, I just wanted to take a break from the party.”

“Are you filling unwell?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Oh no, no, I just...felt a bit overwhelmed with the crowd” you told a half truth.

“Well, if you need a distraction I agreed to help Tony with a surprise for the guests, would you like to help me?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” you agreed.

He turned back towards the way he came from “Great, it’s this way.”

As you followed him down the hall, you couldn’t help the growing feeling of anticipation in your chest, your heart beating heavily. “What is the surprise?” you asked as you walked towards a doorway.

Stopping at the door, he turned to you with a smile as he opened the door. Seeing the dark room behind him, you squinted as you walked past, trying to see what was in the room. Taking a few steps in, Thor turned the light on. After blinking a few times to adjust your eyes to the sudden brightness, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw a table with various types of red roses.

“What are these for?” you asked, trying to sound calm, your heart was beating a bit faster as you walked over to the table.

“I wasn’t sure which kind you would like more.”

You paused for a moment before turning back to Thor, who was watching you expectantly, a small smile on his face as he slowly took a few steps closer “I have been wanting to show you how I felt for a while now. And I know that you are a romantic, so I wanted to make a grand gesture. Once I learned about Valentines Day..I thought it would be perfect. So I confided in Romanoff, asking her what the best way to confess to you might be, and she told me that you liked flowers.”

“So your research about Valentines Day was all for this?” you asked, wanting to confirm what you and Wanda thought. Also noting to talk to Natasha later. You knew that she knew something. He nodded with a smile as he took yet another step closer to you “And you researched meanings of flowers?”

“Yes. Did you like them? And the notes?” he looked down at you, hope in his eyes.

A smile spread across your face “Yes. I really did. But how did you do it? You’ve barely been here.”

“I convinced Loki to help me using his magic.”

You felt a sense of realization, now it made sense. “But...why me?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” he asked a bit perplexed “I have been smitten with you since the day we met. At first I did not realize what it was I felt, but the longer I have known you, the more obvious it became. And, I thought, I hoped, that you felt the same...Was I wrong to think that?”

You met his eyes and smiled “No, you weren’t. I’ve liked you for quite a while now. But I honestly thought you couldn’t care less.” you chuckled.

He placed his hands on your shoulder gently as he stared into your eyes “Y/n. I have never cared about anyone, as much as I do for you. And I never wish to care this way about anyone but you. “ His eyes seemed to sparkle as he smiled at you.

“Are you sure you want to be with me Thor? I mean, it might be hard, living on different planets, I mean, talk about a long distance relationship.”

He shook his head “I do not care. I came to Earth as often as I could excuse just to see you, and now, I can come more often with no needed excuse. And we do have forever after all, both of us are immortal, there is no need to rush. Besides, if you are willing, you are welcome on New Asgard as often as you want. I would love to show it to you. In fact, I’d like to come back with me soon, perhaps tomorrow?” You felt your heart swell at his words as he reached over to the flowers and plucking a red rose from one of the bouquets, handing it to you “What do you think?”

You looked at the rose in your hands and smiled, looking back at Thor “I think I should start packing.”

His smile widened as he suddenly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling away his eyes flicked between your own and your lips “Do you know how much I’ve longed for this?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea” you said quietly, knowing yourself about how desperately you wanted to be with him.

He brought his hand to your face and stroked the side your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned closer, meeting him halfway, you kissed. It was slow and delicate, but held a sort of passion you had longed to feel.

When you pulled away, you both smiled brightly “Do you think Tony would notice if he didn’t return?”

“I don’t know, why? What do you want to do instead?” you asked curiously.

He chuckled “You need to pack remember? I am taking to to New Asgard tomorrow.” his smile turned into a grin, which you reflected.

“Right. Okay.” you chuckled as he reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the door.

“How long do you wish to stay? I’m thinking a month would suffice.”

“A month?” you scoffed “I do have work here you know.” you giggled.

“Oh, right. Perhaps a week then?” he countered, you giggled again as he pulled you along, both of you excited about the start of your new relationship.

xx xx xx xx xx

Sorry it’s such an abrupt ending, but ~~I’m really bad at endings~~

But I hope you guys like it!~ Please consider reblogging and reading the other endings as well!~

#valentines special #thor #thor x reader #marvel #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers reader insert #valentines special ending #thor ending #thor fic #thor oneshot #thor one shot #oneshot #one shot #thor valentines oneshot #thor/reader #marvel x reader #thor x gender neutral reader #avengers gender neutral reader insert

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heyitsani · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday

Okay, at the request of @mlim8 I whipped up a piece of the Beauty and the Beast AU piece for JD week. Everything else I have done for this story gives away major plot pieces, so I wrote this yesterday just because she wanted something for this story.

This scene is my version of the all too familiar exchange his life for yours scene. The story will be told entirely from Dick’s POV and loosely follows the Disney movie storyline. There are just modifications to fit the Batman world versus the fantasy of the movie.

Completely unedited and subject to minor changes, but it’ll mostly stay the same. Feel free to dm me if you want to scream about this or any of my other pieces that are coming. I love making new friends!

Also thanks to Mel for letting me continue to bounce my ideas off her! You’re the best!

Pulling up to the same place where Bruce had parked the batmobile, Dick frowned when he noticed the car was no longer there. They were far enough away from the majority of the city that thieves wouldn’t have gotten to it, but that didn’t account for whatever magic that had been used to protect this area. So he carefully set his motorcycle into stealth mode and left it tucked between two smaller buildings in the area. If he was lucky, it would be there to get him and Bruce back to the cave once he found the other man.

“I’m approaching now, Agent A,” he reported to Alfred through the comms, sticking to the shadows as he approached. He kept one eye on the grounds and the other on any possible movement around him. “I didn’t notice it last time, but you can actually see the current.” He moved to stand about a foot away from the now just slightly visible wall of magic. He looked up, trying to see how far it went, but after about ten feet, the angle didn’t provide a good look.

It almost reminded him of heat waves that came off the pavement during the worst of Gotham’s summers.

Reaching out a hand, Dick carefully touched the wall and jerked a hand back when it felt like he had been zapped by one of his escrimas. “It feels like electricity,” he said into the comm but the reply he got back was crackled and broken. And that meant he was probably on his own. “I’m not sure if you can hear me anymore, but I’m going in. Call for the League and the Robins. Find a magic user and get them here if you can. I’ll bring him back, Alf.” And with a deep breath, he stepped forward and into the wall of magic.

And when he came out on the other side, he bent forward with his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. “That is not a good time,” he groaned to himself as he tried to pull himself together. With a few more deep breaths, Dick straightened and gasped in surprise at the sight of what was on the other side of the wall.

The image projected on the city side of the wall was what he remembered the area to look like. Three large, abandoned warehouses and their various grounds surrounding them. Gray and boring, weathered from the lack of upkeep and use. But what was before him seemed almost gothic in comparison. In fact, it looked like some of the older buildings of the city. Gargoyles and all. The plain concrete walls had been replaced with stone, vines that had not been there two years ago had begun to creep up them giving them an even more aged look.

The grounds themselves were green and reminded him far more of the Manor than what he would have expected a warehouse to look like. They also looked immaculately kept. It was almost as if whoever had done the spell had taken a gothic castle and placed it on the edge of Gotham while making every one in the city believe the warehouses remained.

It made Dick feel like he had a rock in his stomach. This was a very powerful spell.

Scouting the area as best he could, Dick carefully made his way forward with his escrimas in hand and ready for a fight. He didn’t know what he was bound to encounter, but he wasn’t going to chance not being prepared. Not when it might be Bruce’s life on the line.

When the grounds revealed little information, Dick snuck his way inside through one of the windows in the front and quietly made his way through the main foyer. The more he saw of the building, the heavier the pit in his stomach got.

The sound of fierce whispering hit his senses as he came to the base of a set of stairs.

Nightwing, it is Nightwing.

He frowned, looking around to try and find the source.

Nightwing can do it.

He wanted to ask what exactly the whisperers thought he could do, but instead he remained silent and looked up the stairs. There was a faint light further up and like a moth, Dick made his way toward it. The whispers got quieter and quieter the further up he went. Until they had vanished all together and he was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at something that he was struggling to understand. It looked like cells but it wasn’t making sense in his head.

Of course, if this really was some sort of medieval structure, it would make sense for their to be a tower with cells for keeping prisoners. But what that even what this was.

The sound of movement from one of the ones on the right caught his attention and with barely a thought, he rushed forward to peer inside. “Batman!” He cried, latching his escrimas on his back before gripping the bars of the cell door. “Are you okay?!” He questioned as he looked the older man over.

“Nightwing,” the name came out as a groan and Dick frowned. Bruce looked roughed up, but he didn’t look like he was in that bad of condition. “You have to leave. Get out of here now. Before it takes you like it took them all.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to just leave you here,” he shook his head before searching his utility belt for his lock pick so he could get the cell open and get Bruce out of there. He had just about gotten the lock open when a loud crash sounded behind him and he was flying toward the cells on the other side of the small hallway.

“What are you doing here?!” The question was practically growled, and Dick tried to focus on the source but all he could see was a shadow and a pair of glowing green eyes. “You don’t belong here. Leave!”

Shaking his head, Dick looked over at Bruce before looking back to the shadow. “I’m not leaving without Batman.”

“Yes, you are,” the shadow growled. “He’s my prisoner. He’s cursed to remain.”

Dick carefully stood to his feet and grabbed his escrimas, moving into a fighting stance. “I’m not leaving without him. So either you give him to me or I take him.”

“Nightwing, no!”

But Dick ignored Bruce’s call and carefully moved so he was standing in front of his mentor’s cell. He didn’t know who or what it was he was facing, but he had fought enough in his years to be adaptable. “Dick, please just go. Get out while you can.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“One of you is leaving before I really lose my temper.”

That gave Dick pause. “One of us?” The shadow seemed to tilt it’s head and Dick considered the idea building in his mind. He could get Bruce out of there. He could get Bruce home to Alfred. And Bruce would figure out a way to get him out of there. He could do that. Dick would never be able to figure out how to combat magic like this. He wasn’t sure even their magic users in the League would be able to. But Batman always found a way. “Take me instead.”

“What?”

“No!”

“You heard me. Take me instead. Release Batman and I’ll take his place.”

“You…” the shadow paused, sounding almost awed. “You would do that for him?”

“Yes.”

“Dick don’t do this, please.”

Turning his head just slightly to lock eyes with Bruce, Dick pursed his lips. “I have to. You’ll figure it out. You’re already there. I trust you.” The man frowned but understanding filled his eyes and he gave Dick a firm nod. Turning back to the shadow, Dick latched his escrimas again and raised his chin. “I’ll stay as long as I have to if you promise to let him go safely on the other side of the magical wall.”

There was silence before the shadow moved like liquid, shoving Dick out of the way and getting Bruce out of the cell. In a blink of an eye, the pair were gone and Dick was left alone wondering what he was supposed to do now.

#jaydick #dick grayson #nightwing #alfred pennyworth #agent a #bruce wayne #batman #anikah writes #wip wednesday

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thatonecitykid · 3 years

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I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.

#stark reader #stark!reader #irondad #tony stark x reader #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader

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helloooofandoms · 3 years

Text

Alphabet Soup

Here's an itadori fic I originally posted on ao3 with an alternate ending because I didn't write this one at 5 a.m. whilst falling asleep. Also reader is a girl here.

Crouched against a wall you breathed in deep breaths. How'd you get here again? Oh yeah, your teacher sent you on a mission thinking it was just to receive some dumb kids from a haunted hospital but apparently a special grade demon lived here. Not one, but two! You weren't the main protagonist and yet here you were holding your breath as a lower grade demon passed. Your sensei told you that finding the kids were the main priority. Your teammate Sugoku had shouted out 4 minutes ago that he found a kid and your other teammate Meili had yet to say a word. Good thing you were good at tracking cursed energy. Standing up slowly you peaked around the corner of the wall you were hiding behind. You could see her footsteps trailing up the staircase. With one last glance you darted up the stairs. There was no use in fighting more demons when you still had children to save after all. As you ascended the stairs you could hear faint grunts and sounds of metal being hit together. Following the sound you were greeted with your teammate Meili who seemed to have a dislocated right shoulder as she fought one of the special grade demons.

You wholeheartedly could feel her pain just standing there and the look in her eyes said she was about to give in at any moment. Without caring you charged forward managing to push her out of the way of a large attack. This sent you flying into the wall, a large crack in it from where you landed. Sliding to the ground you seethed. Meili was alright, for now. You noticed the young boy that was behind the demon. He was shaking as he stood frozen in fear. If only you could get to him from here. Focusing back on the demon he only spared you a few seconds of inner monologue before he began charging at you once more. At least he wasn't attacking Meili this time. Breathing in you took to your feet and began running to put some distance between you. Your technique wasn't the best suited for close combat and your physical strength wasn't very high at all. That's okay, as long as you could move your feet you were guaranteed some kind of hope. Making sure to run past the boy, you grabbed Meili and pulled her forward. The next thing you knew she disappeared and was now next to the child. Your Technique Flash Steps allowed you to make a shoe imprint in the form of a footstep to use as a teleporter. As long as you had enough cursed energy to maintain it and multiple footsteps to teleport to and fro it was a good bet.

You got distracted having your eyes on the Meili and the young boy you didn't see the arm coming at you at full force. Therefore you took another hit right in the stomach. It'd be a miracle if you got out of this alive. Being knocked right back into the wall you so graciously met a few minutes ago, your head was now pounding. Bloodied and bruised you took some time to stand up this go around. If only you had some kind of weaponry. What would Yuuji do at a time like this? He was sort of your inspiration in a way. Not only did he have crazy stamina but also really good physical strength unlike you. You made up for what you lacked in speed and intelligence. The one thing you both had in common though, was that you never gave up! Earlier you left a footstep by the entrance of the hospital, not knowing that two special grades resided here. You tried to focus your energy on keeping that teleporter opened. Your energy was fading on that specific marker and you could tell many people had unknowingly trampled onto the footstep which gradually made it weaker. Along with the fact that you weren't pouring ridiculous amounts of cursed energy into it. Getting into a defensive position you glared at the demon as he began to attack. Ducking and dodging was your current strategy as you thought about the best way to get Meili and that young boy out of here. Your stamina was decreasing steadily along with your will to fight. You would give it another five minutes before you passed out. Most of your energy had been used up earlier fighting lower ranked demons not to mention having to continuously pour a higher amount of cursed energy into the footprint you left at the entrance.

You would have to put down another footprint in order for Meili and the young boy to be able to escape. The energy in the current one on which they stood was also steadily fading out. It would be less of a strain to make a new marker that can quickly be used than to pour energy into the one on which they stood. Whilst also trying not to get killed. What can you say? You definitely weren't the strongest and you hoped that you'd be able to live in the future where you can fight against a powerful demon and still have large amounts of cursed energy left while using it in a technique. Blocking an attack with your arms you were pushed back but other than the burning sensation you were fine. "Meili! I need you to run at the demon with the boy." You said ducking under a punch.

Meili looked at you worriedly then at the boy whom she was cradling. "You have enough strength to make it! I won't let you get killed I promise. He's our priority remember and you won't stand a chance fighting this demon by yourself." You managed to land a direct hit, buying you a bit of time. "You're the only one that can do this!"

"But you'll die!" Meili choked out.

You smiled at her knowingly, one of your eyes was only half open from the bruising you endured and you were pretty sure half of your ribcage was broken. "That's what I signed up for." You said truthfully. This is a job for which you must be prepared to die. Your dad used to tell you a story about a scarecrow when you were younger. It was a silly tale. One day the scarecrow's friend had been attacked by crows. They pecked and pecked until his friend was no more. The scarecrow was saddened and came off of his post to hold what was left of his friend in his arms. He could hear his friend repeat the motto he lived by. "Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum." In the end the scarecrow stayed there until the crows eventually pecked him away as well. You like to think in the end the two friends were united.

With a battle cry you watched Meili charge up behind the demon as you charged at him from the front. Thankfully he was more focused on you then on her. With a stomp you placed down a footprint and slid under the demon. Once he turned around and stepped onto your footprint an explosion ignited from under him. That was your attack called Flash Bomb. It allows you to detonate a footstep. Blinding him for a second, you placed another footprint down and pushed Meili onto it. "Tell sensei and Sugoku I'm sorry." You said before she disappeared as well as the curse energy you felt from the footprint she was teleported to. It seems you're only escape route had left as well. The demon stared at you as he now understood that you're friend had left. A low grumble of a laugh emitted from his throat and you winced as he pushed you into the wall. There goes your vocal cords, now. You couldn't scream for help as his hands were on your throat. So this is how you were going out, strangled to death. Couldn't he have killed you in a less painful way? "I hope whoever should find you next, offers you a swift and painful death." You gasped. His eyes turned red and he cocked his arm back getting ready to punch the life out of you. Shutting your eyes tightly you inhaled sharply and awaited your death. To your surprise a gust of wind was what hit you.

That doesn't make any sense. Opening your eyes you could only see pink hair and a red hood who had caught the demon's arm before it got the chance to hit you. The man before you returned s punch of his own which in return sent the demon soaring to the other end of the room. He turned around to look at you and you gasped for air. You weren't sure if you were that surprised or if it was because you were being choked to death a mere moments before.

".......Yuuji" you hummed a grin on your face. Maybe you would actually get out of this alive.

"Y/n when Gojo said we had to rescue a team I didn't expect it to be yours." He spoke loudly his eyes trailing your body with concern. A part of you almost looked twisted and it scared him to think this is how much damage demons cause average humans with no cursed energy. It hurt him even more to know that this demon had hurt a classmate of his. "Anyway, consider me as backup. I accidentally stepped onto one of your teleporters in the hallway and ended up here." He said with a small smile. You were glad to know that at least a little bit of your cursed energy still resided to activate your technique. "Don't move okay, you look like you're going to fall off your own skeleton." He said before turning around and in the speed of light he had landed an attack on the demon. You couldn't help but wonder what his training process was like or if he was always this physically strong. Your punches only managed to move the beast a few steps back, Yuuji on the other hand had no issues knocking him into the wall.

Your eyes could barely keep up as you watched the two going at it at an incredible speed. Before you knew it though Yuji had taken some damage and slid back right into you. "Your sensei is fine, Gojo is helping her out. He said something about her being weak. Your teammates also made it out with both of the kids safely thanks to you. If I can just keep this up long enough until someone else comes then we have a chance of getting out of this." You could imagine your sensei now, she always had a sweet demeanor but anything about Gojo Satoru made her blood boil. You couldn't really blame her. It was heartwarming to know your teammates were alive and probably waiting on you to join them. You just wished you could do more. Be stronger, have more cursed energy, be able to fight better. Then again this was a demon way out of any student's league.

"I have a plan" you said to him. Yuuji wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you away from the demon who had come speeding at the two of you. When you were within safe distance he removed it. Yuuji wasn't usually the planning type, but he wouldn't knock it if it meant that you'd both be safe. "Okay start talking because he's coming fast." The pink haired male pointed to the approaching demon.

"I'm going to activate my technique! Wherever you see footprints just hit it. As fast as you can and as hard as you can." You said and he nodded. With a cough you did a hand sign and unleashed your technique. "Flash forward!" You exclaimed as footprints began to form on the demon's body. Without further explanation Yuuji launched forward punching the spots with footprints, occasionally he also used one of his known techniques called black flash.

Your technique flash forward allows you to highlight the weak spots on the opponents body. It's in the form of a shoe print. You began sending kicks as you could tell the demon was being affected. That technique took almost all of your cursed energy and the only thing that kept you from fainting was the fear you were experiencing. You and Yuuji stepped back to take a breather. The demon winding up to charge at you again. "You don't happen to have another teleporter hand do ya?" Yuuji frowned.

"Nope." You said simply as you held onto him for dear life. At least you two would die together.

In a flash of light you heard a very familiar voice. "Let me show you what real teleportation looks like." Of course a smirk came along with the delivery of that line. Ah great now the last thing you'd see before death was Gojo Satoru.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

It's been 3 weeks since the fight at the abandoned hospital. It turned out that the two boys went in there to play hide and seek and only got lost and tormented by the demons. Gojo Satoru ended up killing both or the special grade demons and your injuries landed you in the school's own hospital for a week and a half. Turns out you did have a few broken ribs and your vocal cords were slightly damaged. With some rest you'd be fine after some time. It's been a week and a half of steady rest and you would often attend your classes and go to your dorm room to get some shut eye or entertain yourself with some manga and terrible reality TV shows.

Today in particular you were in for a surprise. It wasn't particularly hard to miss a 190 cm man with white hair standing outside your door. Especially when he seemed to be out of uniform. Random visits from Gojo weren't unexpected but they still took you by surprise every now and then. This time it seems he brought something. You kept your head down as you used your keys to open the door to your room and walked inside. He entered too closing the door behind him. "Y/N!" His cheerfully loud voice bounced off your walls. Here we go again. "What aren't you happy to see your favorite cousin?" He said giving you a tight squeeze.

"Gojo...." You squeaked as he was hugging too tightly. Once he let go, you glared up at him. "We are distant relatives. So distant we most likely aren't related."

Gojo tilted his head to the side. "Hmmm, that didn't stop your clan from trying to kill me." He answered and you sighed kicking off your shoes. He was right after all. Even if your clan was a very very distant branch of his they still held on to past grudges and hated how the main family and clan treated them. You understood why your elders were mad but right now the only member who cared to do something about it is a high school teacher and possibly the only person standing in the way of demonic destruction and your lifespan on Earth.

"What brings you here? And with gifts. You don't usually bring me anything." You said taking a seat at your small dining table that only had two chairs. He placed the bags in the middle of the table and sat down on the opposite end.

"Are you trying to say that I don't care for my best cousin?!" He feigned dramatically as he placed his hand over his chest.

"I'm the only one you even know. Besides that's not where your heart is, you maroon." You laughed.

"Oh I know." Gojo smirked. Ah you really did hate him at times. "These" He started off waving his hands around. "Are from Itadori. He wanted me to bring you this soup because he knows about your throat and he was trying to give this to you earlier but he couldn't seem to catch up with you."

Your eyes widened. He actually cared enough to send you soup? This small action only intensified the growing crush you had on him for months now. Well if he bought you the soup then who bought whatever was in the other bag?

Gojo watched your eyes trail over to the bag and he spoke up once more. "Aww glad you noticed your nice older cousin decided to gift you with some sweets." He hummed. "I ate half of them on the way here though." He said laughing his ass off.

"Get out!" You pointed towards the door.

"I would but I do have some compelling news. I heard that your clan was thinking of promoting you due to the skills you showcased during that fight. They thought it was highly commendable and was shocked you were even still alive." He said leaning back in his chair. Ah yes the elders of your clan. You weren't shocked to hear what they thought of you now that your powers have been showcased. They were always focused on status and power. No one even came by to check on you or call in to see how your studies were going. Not when they had others your age who were way above you in terms of skill.

"They can promote someone else. I'm not interested." You said grabbing the soup and started opening it. Who cares if it was cold? You felt like suppressing your anger somehow.

"Isn't this a good opportunity for you?" Gojo asked folding his arms as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Perhaps, if my clan wasn't so power driven." You shoved a spoon into your mouth. They treated weaker members no different than how the main branch treated them, bunch of hypocrites.

"That seems to be a hereditary trait." Gojo said making you laugh. "You know if you really got a handle on your strength and cursed energy limitations you could surpass anyone in your clan." He leaned forward watching you eat. You could catch a glimpse of his eyes when his shades fell a little off his nose. "If I had a cousin like you I'd be proud." You dropped your spoon into the soup a bit frightened by what you had heard. He seemed so genuine about it too. "IF I had a cousin that is." He teased sticking his tongue out at you.

What were you going to do with this idiot? Even if the two of you weren't the best of friends you still shared some familial bond and you viewed Gojo as an older brother in a way. "Anyway I've got to go. Being the strongest doesn't allow me to mope around all day like you do." He said getting up and heading to the door.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out." You grumbled from your seat.

"Y/N please, you know it can't." He turned to leave and you heard the door close. A few seconds later it opened once more. "Do me a favor and ask out Yuuji, he's driving me crazy blabbering on about you." And with that he left and your room was silence once again. Looking down at the soup you could see that it was none other than Alphabet soup Yuuji had gifted you. He wanted you to ask out the guy that gave you alphabet soup? Laughing to yourself you put the lid on and rushed to the kitchen to put the rest away. Maybe you'd take Gojo up on that offer if he wasn't so annoying. You figured Yuuji could bother him some more and talk about his favorite cousin after all. Speaking of the sorcerer, how were you going to thank him?

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

The next few days resulted in you running from Itadori everytime you got the chance. It was harder than it sounded, that boy was fast, really fast! He managed to corner you this afternoon in a hallway. "Y/N! You forgot your homework!" He sped at you like a charging bull waving the paper around. Thanking him you accepted the paper and met his eyes. "It's so hard to catch up up with you." He sighed. "I've been wondering how you were doing after that fight. It was really grueling, and you were in the hospital for weeks! I got out after a couple of days but I do heal a bit quicker than most. I made sure to visit you everyday." He rambled on.

You listened to him and appreciated the fact that he took it upon himself to make daily visits to you. How'd he even manage that everyday? Didn't he have like a busy schedule usually? "What about Sugoku and Meili?" You asked as you began to fold the paper in half.

"What about them?" Yuuji lifted an eyebrow in confusion. The look on his face was so endearing it made you crack a smile.

"Did you visit them too?" You hummed and watched as his face grew surprised and then bashful.

"Ah well...." He started out then looked away. You noticed a tinge of pink on his cheeks. "I....I uh- didn't have the time."

"Itadori you're a terrible liar." You chuckled and he just stared at you for a second before laughing it off. You didn't want to pry but if there was really a reason behind why he visited only you, you'd be pretty ecstatic to hear it. "Thanks for the Alphabet soup by the way. It was really good." You nodded.

"I'm glad you liked it. It's my favorite kind because I can spell out lots of things in it. My favorite thing to spell out is probably my name but I wanna see if it would work using cursed techniques." You saw his eyes light up when he mentioned the latter. Hmm, you suppose that would be interesting.

"I'm willing to test that theory, Yuuji." You made a mental note to buy him alphabet soup if he should ever get sick. Looking down you listened to see if he had anything left to say. After a few moments of silence you started to turn away. "I'll see you in class then! Thanks for the homework!"

"Yeah....see you" You looked back to see him still where you left him, waving at you.

Why didn't you just ask him out?! It's obvious he has to like you right? At least as a friend. Besides he would never turn down food. Stooping in your tracks you clenched your fists and turned around. "Yuuji!" You shouted down the hallway and saw the boy spin around pretty quickly, causing himself to lose his balance for a moment. "Let's go get alphabet soup later!" You said loudly and he gave you a thumbs up.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

It was the weekend. Exactly 3 days since you had asked Yuuji to get some soup with you. It was never specified that it was a date and you honestly didn't mind whether it was or wasn't. I mean how could you now after he had invited his team along too? Kugisaki and Megumi almost seemed like twins sometimes with their reactions to Itadori's odd behavior but then a switch would hit and Kugisaki would be right along with him acting like a fool. Megumi, however was more occupied with his phone or anything else he deemed to be 'less embarrassing than you two'. It was nice seeing their dynamics as your team only had one boy and 2 girls whilst theirs was the opposite.

It was nice making new friends for a change. Kugisaki had worked up quite the rebellious reputation at school but she was really just straightforward about everything. Megumi was feared by quite a few people in your school even in higher grades but he was sort of just a presence in a way. Not positive nor negative just there. Itadori was liked by most people but he wasn't a social butterfly so you enjoyed seeing him relax with his friends.

When Itadori dragged Megumi along to buy something from a store you had the chance to speak with Nobara as the two of you waited for their return. "He's such an idiot." The brunette said glancing in the direction that the two boys had run off to. You stayed quiet wondering if there was more to what she had to say and there was. "This was supposed to be a date right y/n-chan?" Surprised at the honorific attached to the end of your name you shook your head.

"Not really" you dragged out.

"So that's a yes?" Nobara concluded.

"I think its a little too early to go on a date with the guy since he doesn't exactly know how I feel, besides he managed to introduce me to some pretty cool people so I think the alphabet soup was worth it." You laughed.

The rest of the day went by smoothly with the boys hauling all of Nobara's shopping bags. You only bought a few items and was more than happy to carry your own bags to take the load off of the guys. Arriving back at the school you sighed as you flopped onto your bed. What an eventful day. It was pretty funny seeing the things that the team got caught up in even without their teacher around.

I'll take you on a proper date next time, but we still have to get alphabet soup.

A buzz from your phone that was in your pocket alerted you. Reaching to grab it you looked to see that it was from none other than Itadori. It read:

Your eyes widened as you sprung up out of bed. He caught on?! Happily you jumped around your room making a mental reminder to apologize yo your downstairs neighbors if need be. Remembering you still needed to text back you grabbed your phone off the bed.

You've got a deal!

Now who to text first? Nobara, Meili or Miwa?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk itadori #itadori yuji imagines #itadori yuuji #itadori x y/n #itadori x reader

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fictionalabyss · 4 years

Text

A Chevy girl.

Pairing : Dean x F!Reader

Word count : 1,134

Written for : @spnfluffbingo

Square : Mechanic AU

Warnings : Annoyed Dean, Surprised Dean, smitten Dean, Old cars, Bad ass Woman in charge who takes no shit and proves she knows what she's talking about, Mechanic!Reader, business owner! Reader.

Header by : The always amazing @sorenmarie87 . If you want to help support a fellow creator and get some beautiful headers, hit her up, her commissions are open.

A/N : also a big thank you to @iflostreturntosteverogers cuz I know fuck all about cars and this girl somehow knows something about everything rofl.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist.

Dean was annoyed, grumbling as he drove. He’d been having trouble starting his car for a few days now. He knew what the problem was, he could fix it easily himself, he just needed the damn part and he’d been having a hard time locating one. That’s why he was now driving several hours out of his way to hit a garage that MIGHT happen to have one he could buy.

It was a small garage on the outskirts of a decent sized city. There were a few cars out front when Dean pulled in, some old, some newer, none as old as his, though. He hoped he could get the damn part.

Dean slipped out of his car, looking around as he shut the door, then headed for the building. There was a jingle as the door opened, the small seating area empty save for the guy behind the counter who didn’t even look up. “Hey.” Dean greeted as he stepped up to the counter.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m told this is a place to get parts for older cars? I need a set of points for the distributor of a 67 Chevy Impala.”

Taking his eyes off Dean, and putting them back on whatever he’d been doing, he didn’t bother looking back up at Dean as he answered. “Leave the keys and we’ll get that fixed up for you-”

“No.” Dean cut him off. “I don’t need the work done, I just need the damn part. I can fix it myself.”

His eyes shot up to Deans, and he sighed, obviously annoyed. “You’ll have to talk to the owner.”

“Then go get the owner.” Dean watched him roll his eyes before heading back to what Dean assumed was the garage. Dean waited, looking around the small room for several minutes before the guy came back and told him it would be a minute or two, then ignored him and went back to what he’d been doing before, which Dean assumed was definitely not work.

“What’d you need, Jonny?”

Dean looked up at the voice and froze. Whoever this girl was, she looked damn good covered in grease. He was almost tempted to leave his keys with her. Any other car, any but Baby, and he probably would have just to watch her work.

“Guy’s looking for a part.”

Eyes turned to him and it took Dean a moment to find his voice. “Uh- I need a set of distributor points..”

“You sure that’s what you need?”

“Yeah.”

Despite his answer, you looked skeptical. “I think I’ll take a look for myself. Out front?”

Before Dean could even answer, you were moving, your back to him as you headed outside. He glanced at the guy behind the desk who continued to ignore him, then he hurried out to follow. When he got outside, you were walking alongside his car, and Damn if that didn’t stir something in Dean. As he got closer, he realized you were muttering to yourself. He half caught it and was instantly on the defensive. “I take damn good care of my car.”

“No, you don’t.” you shot him a glare. “What the hell are you doing to her, racing her on gravel?” you shot, pointing out tons of tiny scratches around the wheels.

“Look, lady, I’m just here for a damn part, you got it or not?”

“I’m starting to doubt you know what you need..” you continued to glare at him as you started for the hood, no longer trusting his judgement and wanting to give the car a full lookover to see what other damage he was ignoring.

“Hey! I’ve built this thing from the ground up more than once, alright? Don’t act like you know my damn car better than me.” he spat. He was getting fed up with the attitude in this place. First the guy behind the desk and now this?

You laughed at that. “Honey, you aren’t the first person to own a Chevy Impala. It’s not even the oldest one I’ve worked on. I know more than you think.”

“Just because you’re a mechanic-”

“I’m the fucking owner.” Dean froze, eyes shooting from you to the building and the name on it. “This ain’t my daddy’s garage. It ain’t my ‘boyfriends’. It’s mine, it’s always been mine. You built your car from the ground up? I built this.” you gestured all around you. “And this.” you started away from him, around the main building, towards the back.

Confused, it took a minute before Dean started to follow, curiosity getting the better of him. There was an old garage back there. The white paint, old and peeling off the wooden structure. He watched as you opened up the first of the large doors and he froze. There sat one of the most beautiful cars he’d ever seen, and in pristine condition.

“Chevy Impala.” you informed him as he moved in and ghosted his fingers over shiny black paint. “‘58.”

Dean's eyes shot over. “The first year..” You nodded. “How the fuck did you find this?” You gave him a shrug and his eyes were back on the car. “Original parts?”

“Most. Had to make a few I couldn’t find.”

“It’s beautiful…”

“Trust me yet?” you asked him, and he turned to you. “If not..” he watched you start away, and then he heard another door open. Leaving this space, he rounded the corner and looked into the next one. He’d know that car anywhere, even only half done.

“A Camaro?”

“‘69.” You smiled at it with fondness, running your fingers along the side of the hood. “Full restore. This baby is gonna be a beauty when she’s done.”

“So you’re a Chevy girl.” Dean chuckled in admiration. “I think I’m in love.”

You watched as he looked over the car, mumbling to himself about this part or that or what was missing. So he wasn’t just a pretty face, he knew cars too. Knew more than most people. “You a mechanic?” you asked.

“Dad was. Taught me everything. I learned it all on that ‘67 out front. That car’s been in the family since before I was born, and she’s been mine since I could drive.”

“I don’t have the part.” you told him, and watched the flicker of disappointment cross his face. “But I can get it. It’ll take a couple days at best.” Dean gave you a nod. “Leave me your number and I’ll call when it’s here.”

“I’m actually not from around here. But maybe I’ll stay for a bit. You know anywhere with a room available?”

Your lips pulled upwards into a smile. “I might know a place with a bed. If you keep talking cars.”

“Baby, I can talk cars all day.” Dean grinned.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @anaelsbrunette @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @marvelmenmusicandroses @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

#spnfluffbingo #mechanic au #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean #dean fic #dean winchester #reader insert #spn #spnfic #supernatural #supernatural fic

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unknown-writing · 3 years

Text

Summary:

You’ve felt Sad before. But lately, it’s been getting worse these days. Nothing has helped you pull yourself out of this slump. You tried doing anything that your fellow crewmates recommended, but nothing worked. Not even the most basic of tasks helped get you out of this slump.

So….You turned to Other Stuff. You didn’t care whether or not drugs or alcohol wouldn’t actually help you. You just wanted to forget about your Sadness for a while...Even if it was just for five minutes.

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Warning(s): Drug Use[Future chapter(s)], Alcohol consumption[Future chapter(s)], Depression, angst, mentions of suicide attempts[Future chapter(s)], mentions of self-starvation, eventual smut[Future chapter(s).]

Word count: 1k+

Author’s Note: Been feeling really down lately...So, I’m using my crush with Law to my advantage to fight against my intrusive thoughts. Sorry if this starts becoming too much for you to read. Feel free to block my tag “a helping hand” to avoid triggers~!

You counted the amount of days you’ve been feeling Sad like this. And you counted 32 days straight...32 days of constant sadness, some days were bad, other days where so bad that you never even got up unless somebody came to fetch you for Law. Today was no exception to those extremely bad days. By the time you had woken up, it was already past Noon, and everybody had gone to the Island that they'd reached to stock up on supplies for their next voyage. Groggy as all hell, you slowly woke up, your body felt extremely heavy and Hot...Too hot almost, you just ignored the heat though and went to change into your usual casual but nice looking attire for the day, slapping on a baggy, unclean tank-top, your baggy sweatpants that you’ve been wearing for the past month, and then your running shoes.

You lazily pulled yourself together before heading out to the main dining room area in the hopes of grabbing some food, only to pause and remember that the main reason why the ship wasn’t moving was because they went to stock up on food. “No food huh?....Guess I’ll starve.” You mumbled to yourself, grabbing at least a bottle of water before heading out so it made it look like you’ve eaten.

Gulping down half of the bottle already, you reached the main lobby area of the ship, seeing the same crew members that followed Law, they were just muttering amongst themselves quietly, they sounded more excited than usual to you, “Too Loud...” You thought to yourself as you decided to head outside for some fresh air rather than mingle with the crew today. Despite the fact that you barely know any of them aside from Bepo and Penguin for the most part, as they’re the ones that tend to stick to Law’s hip like lost kittens.

Once you were outside of the ship, you noticed a lot of boxes that started showing up out of the blue, you then noticed that you had walked into a Room created by Law. “....Right, I forgot we were gathering more supplies….” You thought as you took a look at what he’d gotten for his crew, and possible extra’s in case they ran into the Straw Hat’s as they’re still in an Alliance of sorts from what you can recall. You yawned before going forward while crawling down from the top of the Submarine, placing your water bottle down on a closed box nearby so you could at the very least, help put the stuff back.

Before you could move anything though, Bepo noticed you were awake, “Oh!? Y/n san’s finally awake!” he shouted while pointing towards you lifting a box to give it to another, much more stronger crew member to carry it down into the ship for you. Law noticed that you were trying to help despite how late you’ve slept in recently. “Morning.” he says as he patted your head gently while climbing up into his ship for the day to get stuff organized. You didn’t do much, you were just helping lifting boxes but even so, that got you a “Morning” from your captain, usually he would just glare at you then turn to finish whatever he was doing. Shrugging it off, you continued to help out until your arms felt like jelly, being the weaker one out of the group, you were better off at organizing stuff rather than carrying it.

As the crew gathered in the main hallway, Law looked around to see that stuff wasn’t organized like he thought it was, “Tch...Dammit. Everything seems to be mis-matched and out of order. That’ll be a pain in the ass to deal with.” He looked as he opened the boxes, to find that the only things that were separated was Produce and Weaponry (Guns, Gun Ammo etc.) You looked at his irritated face and then spoke up, “I can organize things for you, Law.” You offered, bending down to be at his height level to look at the current box of mis-matched random items..Some of them seemed to be medicine and bandages, while others looked like paperwork stuff. “You know how to organize Y/n? I highly doubt it seeing your room is a mess.” He bounty states, commenting on your messy room. You chose to ignore that though and stood up, “I can organize shit! I may need help though.” You asked him, hoping he’d order the crew to help you organize this stuff better for him while he did other stuff that needed his attention. “....Fine….You can take charge in organizing this Mess...Bepo will come with me to navigate us to the next Island….” He pauses then glares at the crew that didn’t seem to accept the fact that the weakest member of the ship was the one bossing them around, “And the lot of you...Listen to y/n! The faster this shit gets organized, the faster we set sail got it? I don’t want to be bothered by random bullshit complaints because a chick’s bossin’ you around.” he bluntly comments again, making the crew stiffen in slight fear of his booming voice that echoed the room.

After three straight hours of organizing, replacing, and relabeling items, you sat down on the nearest surface your body could reach. That was a daunting task to do considering you’re not in the best mindset right now. Ikkaku helped out with part of the relabeling the items that seemed to either have a missing label, or have the wrong one altogether. “Well, that went by fairly swiftly..” Penguin commented while placing the final box with the rest of them before flopping on the floor, completely drained from helping out with the heavy lifting. You sat there, now regretting not at least grabbing a small thing to eat before starting this heavy workload, your stomach growled softly, which made you flustered. “Hungry huh?” Ikkaku commented while standing up again to get back to work, “Yeah….Maybe just a little bit.” You admit, but didn’t mention that you didn’t eat anything for breakfast or lunch either.

Part of the crew split off after organizing stuff for you to get started on dinner as it was already close to 7pm. You decided to go back to your room until dinner was ready. The comment about how messy your room was started to repeat in your head until you had flopped onto your bed, groaning in annoyance, “Why does he have to be so right.”

You then fell asleep through dinner. Your mental state was getting even worse than what it already was.

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You didn’t mean to sleep right through dinner. You even had set up an alarm to wake you at least 25 minutes before so you had time to wake up, get dressed quickly, then head out to the dinning hall...But, by the time you had woken up, it was 7:30am the next morning, at least from what your clock had told you. You couldn’t tell since the ship was under water again, having set sail for the next Island which would take them a while to get too. You groaned, cursing as you slowly got up again and then sighed. Your eyes weren’t even fully open yet but you still got up regardless to go eat something for today.

You paused before standing up from the bed, hearing muffled whispers against your door, you thought you were hallucinating and just shrugged it off. But, the whispers kept happening, they started to get louder and from what you can tell, the whispered voices seemed to be arguing about something. “--No! You wake her up! The last time I woke her up, she threw her pillow at my face in irritation!” A male voice echoed, you instantly recognized who it was...Groaning, you yawned as you stood up to head outside to see why Bepo and whoever else was there, was arguing right in front of your door so early in the morning. They /know/ your not a morning person, so why the fuck are they here?

Unlocking the door, the two crewmates flinched to see you after being asleep for so long. “O-Oh! Hello y/n san! Good morning!” Bepo stuttered out, nervous on why you look so deadly. It worried him that you looked like this. “.....Morning……” You weakly responded, noticing that Ikkaku was holding a tray of food for you..A lot of it too, it looked like they were some of your favorite meals they had prepared. “Sorry to bother you y/n san but, we thought you were sick, so we brought you some food! We made sure to bring a lot of it because you missed out on food yesterday.” She said, pointing out that she noticed you were hungry yesterday. You internally smacked yourself, forgetting that you never ate a single thing yesterday. Reaching out for the tray of piled on food, you took it to place it on the small desk you had then turned to face them, “Thanks for the food.” You said weakly, as you closed the door to your bedroom.

“Don’t thank us.” Ikkaku said before turning to head the other way, “Thank Law. Since he was the one that noticed you weren’t at dinner last night.” She said before leaving with Bepo following her….Haring that line, just made you feel more guilty. You had worried your captain to the point of him making enough food for you to eat for the day, despite the fact that you’re just not Hungry. Sighing, you still decided to eat some of the food in front of you, even if it was just in small bites here and there. Even so, you couldn’t finish that much. Setting aside, you flopped back on the bed.

The next few hours had passed. You woke up to loud banging against your door, startled awake, you groaned as you got up, “Alright already, I’m awake! Sheesh!” You yelled, then started to mutter to yourself, “Don’t start snapping back y/n-ya.” Law replied, which made you freeze up. You should’ve expected that he was the one that would start banging on the door next, considering he’s your captain, and a doctor. Opening the door to see that he was scowling, he looked down at you, a sting of guilt punched your throat, which made you start to stutter out a weak response to his glare. He didn’t respond back however, all he did was walk into your room and started turning on the bedroom lights for you, seeing that you’ve done nothing but stay in the dark for the last 72 hours.

“Three days.” he starts off after he clicks on your nightstand lamp before turning back to glare down at you, “it’s been three days since you’ve been cooped up in here by yourself.” A low growl of irritation leaked his throat, which caused you to flinch again. A brief moment of silence filled the room before you could respond, “....I’m Sorry.” You simply said while staring at the floor, feeling both guilty and nervous on what he was going to do next. Before you could respond, all he did was lift you with one arm over his shoulder, and then bring you to his office for a small Chat about your Mental State.

#tw// drug use #tw// alcohol #tw// angst #tw// depression #tw// self starvation #tw// suicide attempts #not a request #long fic #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x y/n #one piece x reader #a helping hand

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