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kentosovertime · 3 years

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𝕋𝕠𝕤𝕜𝕒 (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙 𝕠𝕗 𝟚)

(n.) a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish

jealous friendzoned!gojo x fem!reader - 3.3k words

A/N: as always thanks to my squad of proof reading geniuses; naad, carter, yelz, and ash 💜🖤

CW: cheating, cancelled wedding, manipulation, alcohol (not reader), explicit smut, unprotected sex, fingering, needy emotionally selfish gojo, angst, fluff, fem!reader

Banner credit: 五条悟 by わるつ

Masterlist | Part 2 | Tag List

“Don’t have too much fun!” You call from your spot, leaning against the frame of your front door. Gojo watches your bright eyes crinkle as you wave down at their group piling into the car. “Satoru!” You motion your finger at him, calling him over to you.

He leaps towards you like a lost puppy, eating up any attention you would give him. Your focus constantly on the man you had decided to marry tomorrow, nowadays. There were nothing but scraps left for your best friend.

Gojo doesn’t have anything against your fiance. Quite the opposite. Objectively he’s a nice guy; sweet, caring, if not a little sensitive. But he had fantastic chaotic energy to match Gojo's, the pair unstoppable playing games or teaming up to annoy you. He treats you right… So why can’t he just be happy for you? Or the new friend you had brought into his life?

He’s in your way. A snide voice swells up from a place deep within his heart. She was yours first. She promised you!

Images of your shared childhood pass through his mind. Gojo ran across the yard, tackling you to the ground, smearing grass stains onto your school uniform as he landed on top of you. “You’re never gonna leave me right?” He pouts down at you.

He was seven when that happened; you, just a year younger at six. You had thrown a hug around his neck, assured him you would always be by his side. He guessed they had different definitions of what exactly that meant. Over two decades later, he’s still head over heels for you.

You look over his shoulder to the man in question blowing you a kiss and waving. “Please go easy on him,” your voice drops to a hushed whisper, hand coming up to hold just above his elbow. Heat from your palm seeping into his skin; he purrs internally at the touch. “I think he’s nervous about what you have planned. You have a reputation.”

A wide, crooked smirk plays across his face. “When have I ever steered you wrong, princess?” He lightly punches your shoulder. “I promise my best behavior.”

Gojo mockingly salutes you. Snickering at your worried expression, clearly not believing him. You shove him back playfully, hissing. “Too many times, you fiend! You attract trouble.”

“(y/n)!” he yells, pouting. His legs bouncing, arms flailing slightly, as if he was starting to throw a tantrum. “I can’t help it if it finds me. Why don’t you trust me?!”

“Hush, you fucking child, you know you’re the one I trust the most.”

He’s going to be the only person you ever trust again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“A strip club, Gojo?” your fiance asks sheepishly. “Classy as ever, man.”

Another in their group claps him on the back. Your boyfriend’s brother? “Bro, strippers are a requirement for a stag party!” his laughter booming around them.

Gojo had tuned out all of the introductions when your fiance rattled through them. Focused on controlling the dread that was seeping into his bones.

He was running out of time. Gojo glances over his shoulder at your fiance as they walk through the tinted entrance. Neon signs flickering, illuminating the hallway. Music leaking out from around the door separating the hall from the club.

“Satoru,” the manager greets from behind the desk. He cringes at the use of his first name. Revealing the familiarity he has; the consistency in which he seeks out their establishment. You were right, he has a reputation. And this was not helping him with your fiance, who he could see was getting increasingly anxious.

There wasn’t anything inherently special about this club, though he had become a regular. One of the dancers who worked every weekend had garnered his sick, twisted attention.

Her waist length hair the same shade as yours, her head meeting where you would if you’d embrace him. The ease at which you replaced her within his thoughts… He didn’t even care to remember her name, moaning and grunting for you when he paid for her services.

She’s dancing as they enter the club and take their seats. Your fiance’s mouth falling open, eyes stuck on her body writhing on the pole. The darkness in the club did not hide how wide his pupils spread as she noticed his attention, making eye contact with him while she sheds her skimpy bra.

“Drinks are on me tonight!” Gojo yells, moving away from the group towards the bar. He just needs a little push. Gojo’s dark thoughts returning.

As he sets up a tab at the bar, starting with two shots a piece, a third added for the future groom, he feels a manicured hand slide from the center of his back, up to his shoulder, settling around his chest as unbound breasts press hot against his thin shirt. He inhales pretend-you’s perfume, she must have finished her set.

Gojo concocts a half-assed plan, no longer able to shoulder the anxiety of watching you waste the rest of life with anyone other than him. He couldn’t lose you.

“How much would it take for you to seduce and fuck the groom over there?” he whispers leaning into the girl's neck.

“Is this about, (y/n).” She asks, humming as his lips plant an open mouthed kiss on her neck. He nods in place of words. “When’s the wedding?”

“Tomorrow evening. I’ll need to get a picture to send to her… maybe a video.”

“Hm. In that case,” She contemplates her options. “$1,000 up front for even attempting, then another nine if he actually goes through with it. I’ll take him to the back alley.” She looks down, catching his eyes darken as he realizes this could work.

Gojo hands her his credit card. “Deal.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You good man?” Gojo leans in, pulling your inebriated fiance closer. “Wedding’s tomorrow, how ya feeling?” He slurs his words slightly.

The group had dispersed, leaving the two of them alone. Which was entirely Gojo’s doing; doling out access to private rooms for the others to leave your fiance alone when she swooped in for the kill.

“I- Can you ke-keep a secret, bro?” Your fiance grabs the back of Gojo’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. Gojo nods slowly, attempting not to scare him off. “I’m petrified. The commitment. The vows.”

God this was going to be easier than taking candy from a baby. His inner demons smirked maniacally.

“You have one more night of freedom,” Gojo leans back, downing the rest of his drink. “I’m getting a private dance, put whatever you want on the tab.” He winks down at him, turning to signal his accomplice.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You had just settled into bed, letting the duvet slip over your curves when you feel your phone vibrating under your pillow. Satoru’s goofy selfie flashing on the screen as you squint at the screen in the dark.

Sliding the answer button over, placing the phone to your ear, you can’t get a breath in before Satoru’s panicked voice launches into his story. “(y/n), I am so sorry, I only left him alone for a few minutes…”

Your mind immediately rushes to the worst case scenario. Was your fiance hurt? What hospital was he in? Did he get arrested?

“I found him in the alley behind the club,” he voice was full of regret. Satoru was never this serious. Behind the club? Unconscious? Beaten up? Mugged? “He… he was fucking one of the dancers.”

A wave of nausea washes over you. “No. Satoru. He’s not like that. You know he’s not like that.” Words of denial fall from your lips, your head shakes back and forth

The text tone has you pulling your phone away from your cheek.

The air leaves your lungs as the video repeats in a loop on your screen. Your fiance’s hips rutted into that whore’s ass, his pants pulled down to his knees as he bent the woman over to brace her face against the wall in the dingy alleyway. You can see his hands biting harshly into her waist, pulling her back into him.

A sob escapes your mouth, a hand flies up to attempt to stop the sounds of anguish. “(Y/N)?!” Satoru’s voice spikes in concern. “Do you need me to come get you?”

He can’t see you nodding your head furiously, tears running down your face, desperate to reach a place you always knew was safe. “Please, Satoru.”

He ends the call, smirking down at his phone as he transfers the rest of the money over to pretend-you’s account. That couldn’t have gone any better.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When Gojo pulls up, your house is desolate, black, empty. There is no sign of life despite him seeing your car in the driveway where they had left it. He uses his key to unlock your front door, moving down to your bedroom.

He hears you soft whimpers as your sobs spill out of the pillow you had shoved your face into. He knocks lightly to signal his entrance, not waiting for a reply as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed.

He hesitantly places a hand on your mid thigh, rubbing back and forth in a comforting motion. His heart warms when you don’t pull away, your breaths evening out as his rough hand rubs circles into you.

Gojo lays his head on your hip, continuing his motions. “I’m sorry, princess,” his tone still serious. “If there had been a way to tell you without you seeing that…” He trails off, not needing to finish his thought. You know how much he loves you, that he would never spare your feelings in the moment to save you from a truth you needed to hear. That was the true mark of friendship.

He places a chaste kiss on the hip his cheek was on. You feel his arms pass between you and the sheets hoisting you out of bed. You silently curl into his chest, compiling with his movements as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You press your face in his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of clean laundry.

“I’m going to get you into the car,” he utters gently against the top of your head. “Just wait here; let me pack a bag for you.”

Finally given the opportunity to calm your sobbing, a slow, deep rage burns at the edges of your heart. You were supposed to… oh my god, the wedding.

You look down at the black screen of your phone, quickly opening the family group chat for the wedding; your family, his family, and all your friends present in the group. Everyone will know what he did to you. Your mind is blinded by fury as you type a message, short and sweet, and send it without hesitation;

<don’t bother coming, tomorrow’s canceled. One video attached>

You exhale sharply through your nose, slumping against the door in Satoru’s passenger seat as the last ounce of energy left you. You barely register Satoru throwing a bag of items into the back seat, buckling into the driver’s seat, and pulling out of the driveway. Your tired hands manage to shut down your phone, missing the frantic messages and notifications.

“Please answer the phone! I can explain!”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You feel the warmth of the hand on your thigh leave as you pull into Satoru’s driveway. “Do you need help getting in?” he shoots you a concerned look when you don’t answer.

Gojo sees you pull your legs up to your chest on the seat, pulling the blanket he’d put over you before leaving tighter around your face. You had stopped crying, thankfully, but a heavy silence followed as you stared out the window not making the slightest noise on the way to his house.

He doesn’t push the subject, knowing you have a habit of withdrawing into yourself when stressed. He moves to bring the bag he had packed for you inside, but your hand flies to his, stopping him in his tracks. “P-please don’t leave m-me.” you sniffle, drawing in a shuddering breath. “You s-said you’d never let me go.”

Gojo’s face falls, your sadness carves into his heart. “Never.”

Forgetting the bags, he opens up the passenger door, leaning across your chest to undo your buckle. Gojo takes your fragile form inside, setting you in the corner of the large sectional that dominates the living room.

“I’m going to go lock up,” he starts, almost faltering when your glassy eyes look up to meet his. “I don’t want him to show up looking for you… or making a scene.”

You blink, head nodding slowly as you process the information. He was right. The last thing you wanted to see was your fiance.

Gojo makes sure to do a thorough run through of the home; locking the doors, drawing the shades, and making sure the windows are secure. He stops in the kitchen, filling up a cup with ice water for you. You’d have a headache from the crying if you didn’t rehydrate.

You flinch as you realize Satoru had approached you, lifting a glass to your lips. You latch onto the cup, gulping down the cold water greedily as you feel Satoru sit on the couch against your side.

Gojo brings his hand up to cup your cheek, fingernails slightly scratching at the skin behind your ear. Warmth blooms in his chest as he feels your head lean into his touch, a rough sigh falling from your mouth.

He shivers as the breath brushes against his bare wrist. The feeling running straight down to his cock. Running on instinct and pure adrenaline, Gojo brings his forehead to yours, noses brushing together.

“If you were mine, I never would have even thought about stepping out on you.” The confession has him rambling, “I could never live with myself. You’re so genuine and funny. You’re b-beautiful. I- I love you so much.”

“I know, Satoru.” you're alarmed by how he had remained so serious, shocked that he hadn’t tried to make light of the situation somehow. “I love you, too.”

You said it so simply. You didn’t know. He’d show you what he means.

His other hand meets the back of your neck pulling you the final few inches until your lips meet in a fiery kiss. Gojo uses the opportunity to pour all his longing, all his desperation into his kiss, opening his mouth to tongue at your bottom lip.

A growl of approval rips through him as he feels your shock wear off and you reciprocate his actions. You feel him suddenly reach down to place both hands on your hips, hauling you to face him on his lap.

He uses his strength to grind your hips down into the growing hardness in his pants; matching the strokes of his tongue in your open mouth. He ceases his actions and pulls away from your face when he feels your pelvis picking up speed, frantically rutting into him as you chase your high.

You whimper loudly, chasing his lips before you’re stopped by a hand at the base of your throat. You mumble something under your breath.

“Say that again?” You hear him messing with the tie on your sleep shorts. Your face flushes scarlet, hesitant to drudge up the feelings you had shoved down years ago, to cross this line.

“I need you, Satoru.” you moan out, desperation taking hold. “Please, make me forget him. I want you so b-bad.”

His hands come together below you, picking you with ease as he tosses you down on to the couch. His hands rip off his clothing, his patience to be inside you running terribly thin. “Take off your shirt for me, princess.��

You do as you’re told, watching his eyes darken as he sees you’re not wearing a bra underneath. You go to remove your shorts, but are stopped when his naked form comes down to meet you, your eyes briefly catch the size of his member. You gulp harshly, how in hell… he was going to split you in half.

“Uh uh, (y/n).” his hands replacing yours at the elastic waistline. “I want to unwrap my own present.”

“Sa-Satoru.” you throw your head back feeling his hand shove its way into your slick. He quickly rubs his digits around your clit, before rushing to push past your entrance. Your back arches up off the couch.

“Saturo!”

“Hush, I’ll hurt you if I don't stretch this sopping pussy out.” His fingers quickly scissor you open. You watch as he takes them out, sliding them into his mouth as he works your shorts all the way off.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined…” the hand in his mouth falls to his cock stroking his length.

Your eyes follow his movements, widening when you realize you hadn’t been wrong about his size. He falls over you, hands on either side of your head. Your legs spread to accommodate their presence in between them.

“I d-don’t think I ca-. It’s-”

He shushes you with his pointer finger, the taste and smell of your cunt flooding your senses as he eases his cock into you. So big, you can feel every throbbing vein pulse against your walls, spreading so thin you can barely breathe.

“You can take it. Take it for me. Please." His head settles in the crook of your neck. One of his hands reaches down to settle behind your knee, pushing it into the side of your chest.

He watches as your eyes as your eyes roll back, the sheer girth of his cock fucking you stupid before he even began.

“Goddamn it, baby..” He drawls, teeth bared against your neck, “So tight, had no idea you’d feel so good. So good for me. Fucking perfect, all for me.”

Your pussy is dripping around his length as he pulls out and then shoves his way back in. He sets a steady, but hard pace. Making sure you feel every thrust through your center.

Your face flushes at the embarrassingly short amount of time it takes for him to bring you to the edge. The coil snaps as he takes your other leg, pressing it down next to the first, reaching a spot that has you screaming.

You shake violently, held in the press as he adjusts, kneeling closer to you to fuck into you faster.

Satoru grins wildly down at your adorable scrunched face, taking in your high pitched shrieks and the feeling of your pussy sucking him in further, committing them to memory. His name sounds sweeter than he has ever imagined falling from your lips.

“Fuck!” He stutters, losing his rhythm. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up. You want your pussy filled to the brim, princess?” you can only manage to nod, words escaping you as he prolongs your high, not giving you a chance to come down from your orgasm.

“Fuck you’re perfect, taking me like you were always meant to…”

“I should’ve- should’ve been doing this all along.” Gojo groans deeply, a wave of pleasure traveling up his spine as he feels his balls tighten.

“All you ever needed was this, princess.” he hisses, emptying himself deep within you has he continues to fuck into you, drunk on the slick feeling of your joined arousal.

“Did I make you forget him?” Satoru smirks down at your warm pliant body.

“Wha- who are you talking about?” you pant harshly, confused by his question. You were too busy still twitching and coming down from your high.

Excellent. The snide voice in his head purrs, finally content.

Tag list: @yelzoldyck @sugarbooger513 @silversslut @poppyandhervillains @dreamyyholland

#jjk blogging #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk au #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x female reader #kentosOT original

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Heatwaves | Aldo Raine x m!reader

Anonymous: may i request aldo x male reader. anything you want story wise

summary: heatwaves are never any good for anyone, but at least you and Aldo have a little privacy.

tws: swearing, smoking

An amber warning for extreme heat was in place, humidity levels were high and the temperatures higher, and although it was tough, Aldo did try and find a way to make it more bearable; since the war had been over for years, the two of you lived quite peacefully in Tennessee, occasionally entertaining the other Basterds when they had time to visit, sometimes going over to see them when there was time.

No such visits would come for a while, the heat was too unbearable, and travelling in such weather was far from desirable; communication slowed to telegrams and letters, sometimes a phone call, although those weren't as regular.

You could feel the heat seeping in through your trousers as you lounged on one of the outdoor chairs, one leg swung over the arm, the other hanging off the edge, your head tilted back as you sighed heavily and grumbled.

"Aldo?"

"Yeah?" He leaned forward, cupping his hand around his cigarette as he lit it.

"Y'think this'll end?" You asked, desperation in your voice. "I mean, it can't be hot like this forever, can it?"

He leaned back again, putting his feet up on the table and crossing his ankles as he took a drag from his cigarette. "Nah. It'll rain soon."

"Thank fuck," you breathed out. "I thought fuckin' France was bad, but this..."

"Yeah, it ain't great," he agreed, but then he laughed quietly. "Shit, remember when we went skinny dippin' in that shitty little river? Wicki damn near killed us."

"Yeah, 'cause we scared the shit out of him," you laughed. "Poor bastard nearly had a heart attack."

"Well it ain't every day y'catch your Lieutenant and his Captain boyfriend nearly-"

"Do not finish that sentence," you warned quietly, shaking your head and leaning over, taking his cigarette. "You forget your place, Lieutenant."

"Now," Aldo shook his head. "If I remember correctly, didn't me and my boys save your life when them fascist fucks take your plane down?"

"My plane only went down because I got cocky," you admitted. "Thought I could outrun 'em."

"And ya got your wings clipped," he muttered. "Thought I'd lose you... I mean, when I saw it was you in that wreck, I thought I'd lose your dumb ass."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "It'd take much more than a few Nazi cunts to take me down - you know better than anyone how well I did during training."

"Yeah, I know," he hummed. "You was the best damn pilot I'd ever seen."

"You would've thought that I'd get a medal for that shit," you passed the cigarette back after flicking some ash down on the grass. "For all the cunts I took down, for making damn sure that my Hurricane got hardly any damage."

"Join the club," Aldo joked. "We didn't get shit, neither."

"It's a bit fucked, innit?" You asked. "I mean, for everything we did... and they can't even be bothered to recognise it?"

"Yeah, it's fucked," he agreed. "But at least the war's over. At least we won."

"You and your boys saved a lot of lives," you said, a little proud as you flashed him a smile. "Including mine."

"Captain (y/l/n), I'll always save your ass," he grinned. "I need somethin' to look at."

"Don't be vile," you chuckled. "It's too hot for that kinda talk."

"What? A man can't look at his husband's ass, now?" He whined playfully, making you roll your eyes. "I take that as a no."

"I ain't saying anything," you smiled, shaking your head at him, but you dared to get up, groaning softly as you stretched and heard bones click. "I'm gonna get a drink."

"Wait," Aldo caught your wrist, pulling you down so that he could steal a quick kiss, his other hand gently patting your ass as he smiled. "That's better."

#mlem writes #aldo raine imagine #aldo raine x reader #lt aldo raine #aldo raine #inglourious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds imagine #inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds x reader #inglorious basterds imagine #inglorious basterds

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Rising From The Ashes || Chapter Six

Jax Teller x Reader || Fast & Furious x Reader

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Rising From The Ashes Masterlist

This Months Writing

Dom didn’t get much sleep, every time he closed his eye he got flashbacks of that night, the terror that was blatant in Y/N’s voice, the feeling of the heat of the blaze on his skin as he barged into the house to pull you out of the fire, the smell of petrol that attacked his senses the moment he entered the burning building. Everything still haunted him, even to this day.

Then to top all of that off he now had Brian to deal with, he knew there was history between the two of you, but for him to drop the bombshell he did last night, pissed Dom off to his core. He needed to know where Brian’s head was at and fast, did he come to help or did he have ulterior motives behind coming with them?

Sneaking out of the dorm, he didn’t want to wake Letty up, she needed her sleep right now, considering she kept tossing and turning in her sleep, another reason Dom didn’t get much rest.

It didn’t take long for Dom to find Brian, seen as he was walking round Y/N’s GTR with heart eyes.

“What are you doing man?” Dom snapped, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at his brother. “I brought you here to help, not to make this fucked up situation even worse.”

“I don’t even know,” Brian sighed, running his hand over his face, “Like the moment I saw her with Jax I got hit with regret and felt guilty that I was the reason she ran. And it got me thinking about what could have been.”

“You need to figure you shit out, you have Mia at home, carrying your child and you're out here professing your love to someone else?” Dom said with no emotion in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at Brian. “And if you can’t figure you shit out fast then you need to go home, because I cannot deal with that at the moment.”

“I bet Jax hates me now,” Brian said, looking down at the floor feeling ashamed of what he said.

“Considering you compared him to that asshole, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to kill you right now,” Dom sighed, “Look I get it you helped her get him sent down but you have both moved on from whatever it was that you had going on. Just talk to them, smooth things out because this is the last thing that Bear needs right now.”

“I know, I know,” Brian sighed, “I just need to figure out what I am going to say.”

“Well do it quick,” Dom nodded, as he spotted you walking outside in the corner of his eye. “Just do it today.”

As you leant on the wall, you watched Dom and Brian talking, but it looked heated so you decided not to go up to them. All you wanted was a day that was somewhat normal, no arguing, no tears, no reliving the past, just a normal day at the club.

“Morning Bear,” Dom smiled, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. You used to hate how hard he squeezed you but you found yourself missing these hugs. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Morning,” you mumbled, resting your head on his solid chest, just taking in everything that was Dominic Toretto. Dom had been a major part of you building yourself back up all those years ago, and in a way you could never repay him for the amount he had helped you. “Meh, I just want this nightmare to be over, I don’t want to live my life living in fear.”

“We will get him, I promise Bear,” he hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “And when we do get him I will be putting a bullet between his eyes.”

“I think Jax might beat you to that,” you said half laughing. You both knew it was the truth, that Jax would be first inline and everyone else could wait.

Before he could speak Gemma came outside, with a smile on her face, you knew what was coming, she always did this when there were new people visiting and when tensions had been high.

“Everyone get your asses inside, family breakfast time,” she shouted, making you laugh as you wiggled out of Don’s embrace, slowly strolling over to her. “You doing okay baby?”

“I will be after I get some food in me,” you nodded, stealing the smoke she had just lit, taking a large drag from it, before passing it back to her.

“Well get your ass inside then before the vultures eat all of the food,” She laughed, kissing the top of your head before you both walked into the clubhouse.

“Oi you fuckers,” you shouted, gaining everyone’s attention, making you smirk at how everyone froze on the stop. “I know we don’t normally do this but no one eats until grace has been said because tradition is tradition, right Dom?” You laughed looking over at Dom who nodded at you. “Dom can you do the honours,” you smiled as you slid into the seat next to Jax at the head of the table, to find he had already fixed you a plate of food up.

“I just want to apologise for my behaviour yesterday, I crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed,” Brian sighed, guilt washing over him, you could see in his eyes that he was being sincere. “I was just pissed at the whole situation and when I overheard Jax and Chibs talking I just lost it.”

You were shocked, it wasn’t very often a Brian apologies, so you were taken back, not knowing what to say. Deep down you knew he didn’t mean what he said yesterday but that still didn’t mean it didnt hurt. Normally you could get a read on Jax’s expression but right one he just looked bored.

“I don’t want any hard feelings, but the moment I saw you everything hit me at once and I started thinking about what could have been,” Brian sighed, looking you in your eyes.

“Look Busta, I was young back then and think I just got hung up on you because you helped so much with putting the devil behind bars. It was just a crush, nothing more.” You said softly, squeezing Jax’s hand to reassure him. “I know what love is now, and I am not throwing that away for anyone. You have Mia and you guys are perfect for each other.”

His eyes turned to Jax. “I’m sorry man, I should have never said you were like Aaron, because from what I’ve seen you are far from the scum he is,” Brian said, holding his breath waiting for Jax’s reaction.

“It’s all cool with me,” Jax said, breaking a smile. “Tensions were high yesterday, but just know that I won’t be afraid to hurt you if there is another outburst like that again.”

Brain looked slightly shocked at the response he got from Jax, but he held his hand out for Jax to shake, making Jax roll his eyes, “nah, we do hugs around here,” Jax laughed, pulling Brian into a hug.

As the two of the guys chatted away, you zoned out, focusing on your car, the last couple of days had been eventful and you needed a release, to blow some of the steam off. Get your head back in the game, and not let the dark thoughts creep back into your mind. You had enough of the rain cloud that seemed to follow you about and it was time to do something about it.

“Okay listen up guys,” you shouted, as you clambered on top of the table, letting the smoke hang between your lips. “I don’t know about you, but I need to blow some steam off. And there is only one way I know how to do that.” You smirked, taking a long drag on the cigarette , before exhaling, watching the grey smoke dance in the slight breeze. “What do you say, Team, that we show these bikers just how this family blows off some steam?”

“Oh it’s on baby sis,” Letty hollered, spinning the keys to the GTO around her fingers. “You are so going down!”

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @mrsmarvelous1995 @band--psycho @little-diable @phoenixhalliwell @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @withmyteeth @jessprins13 @rightwhereiwantyou @jasonbabymama @garbinge @zozebo @sunnyfleur23 @pancakeisreading @pascal-reyes

#Jax teller #Jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #fast and furious #fast and furious imagine #fast and furious x reader

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years

Note

Can I request an angsty fic for Arthur? Can it be about his s/o researching apartments and jobs outside of Gotham because they want to move away and they accidentally leave the print-outs of these jobs and homes somewhere Arthur sees them and he things they are leaving him. it can either be a headcanon or an imagine, your choice :)

*Low whistle* okay, this broke my heart so, sorry, but I had to make it fluffy at the end. I can’t hurt Arthur. He’s been through so much already.

TW; arguing, shouting, miscommunications in a relationship, very insecure Arthur, smoking, swearing, mentions of reader suffering from panic attacks, mentions of gaslighting… is angsty but ends fluffy. I need our sad clown boi to be happy.

Word count: 1, 718.

When you got home from work, you could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. As you shut the door and took off your coat, shoes and let your bag drop gently to the floor where it would stay until tomorrow morning, Arthur remained sat on the sofa, his head leaning over the back, his legs spread and his knees aggressively bouncing as he took long, deep drags from his cigarette, burnt down nearly to the filter, and pursed his lips with every exhale.

He paid no mind to you at all and that made you incredibly nervous. Instantly did you know that you were in trouble. Arthur never ignored you. Even when he was asleep, you were perfectly at rights to wake him up for something as simple as the fact that you want to hear his voice at three in the morning, or that you want a cuddle and you can’t because he’s laying wrong. You could wake him up for anything at any time and he would indulge you because you were Arthur’s entire world and he never let you doubt that for even a second.

You were in deep shit and you fucking knew it.

“Arthur? Honey, what’s - “

Arthur lifted his head up and fixed you with a cold look which chilled you to the bone. Ah, fuck. What had you done? What hadn’t you done, if that was the case? Had you forgotten something? Distantly in your mind were you attracted to this angry Arthur, but now really wasn’t the time to jump his bones like there was no tomorrow. If his current mood continued without you extracting any answers from him, there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for you as a couple, anyway.

You felt sick now as he continued to stare at you. He stood up from the sofa, busied himself with lighting another cigarette, and reached out to grab a thick sheath of paper from the dining room table. “What is this?” Arthur’s voice was quiet, so quiet you almost couldn’t hear him over the roaring in your head. You were starting to panic now. Any longer and he would send you into a panic attack. His voice was like ice. His eyes lacked warmth. His body declined you coming closer to him. His nostrils flared. He was fucking livid.

You stepped back one pace and his eyes tracked the movement. Somehow, you moving further away from him only angered him further. “It says here that you’re looking for places to live outside of Gotham. When were you going to tell me, honey?” Arthur spat out the last word and your eyes zoned into the pages he was holding, relief flooding you. Ohhh~. You knew you had forgotten to do something this morning in your haste to get to work before you were late. Even so, why had you decided to leave them in plain sight knowing that Arthur didn’t know any of your plans yet? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Arthur, about that, I - “

You turned from him and went to get a drink from the kitchen. You needed a cup of coffee. Your head was pounding, your heart was racing, your hands were starting to shake and you felt sick.

“No. No, you do not get to walk away from me, Y/N.”

Arthur came forward and you sped up into the kitchen. “Please don’t give me a hard time, just let me - “

“I’ll give you a fucking hard -” Arthur rounded into the kitchen and stopped dead when he saw that you were on the border line of having a panic attack. You hated raised voices, you hated being closed in and you hated the way he was making you feel right now. It just wasn’t okay, even if he did look really fucking hot when he was angry. Not the time, Y/N… you chided yourself.

You watched as Arthur took several deep breaths, clenched his fists by his sides still holding the papers, the cigarette dangling from his mouth, and made a very admirable visible effort to calm himself down. When seconds had ticked past, Arthur pressed a hand to his forehead, his intense green eyes meeting yours in desperation while his free hand grabbed the cigarette, which he flicked the excess ash off quickly and put it out by drawing a smiley face on the wall. Instantly could you see the true reason for his anger - he was scared. You took a minute just to put the pieces together.

“Fuck! Fuck, no, Arthur, it’s not what you think, I promise!” You rushed over to him and pulled him into a hug. Arthur stayed completely still in your hold, not letting himself give in. So often had people kept him in the dark, kept secrets from him, and then when he had found out they had gas-lighted him into thinking he was crazy, that he was delusional, that he was wrong. He had been stupid to think that you were different. You were leaving him and you hadn’t even bothered telling him. It was really sad how nothing ever surprised Arthur anymore.

“Are you leaving me?” Arthur’s voice was nothing more above a whisper, his voice so soft, so heartbroken.

You bit your lip against your tears. How could you have done this to him, even by complete accident? You were paying for your lack of forethought now. “No. I would never leave you.” You should have told him your plans from the start, involved him in the process from the start. Surprises were not appreciated when it came to Arthur, even the good ones. He had been taught that secrets hurt, that surprises hurt, that people would always leave in the end. Hadn’t you taught him anything?

“Then what is it?” Arthur was still tense in your hold. You pulled away to look him fully in the face, your arms still around his shoulders, your fingers still toying with his hair. You were trying so hard to calm him down, even with your own hands shaking, the panic attack still looming over you. Your breathing had slowed down though, so you knew you would be okay. Your breathing was always your first clue that an attack was coming on.

“I’m making plans for us to leave this city. Together.” Your lips twitched as you made the emphasis deliberate. You finally noticed that he still had the papers and you tugged them out of his grip, tutting when you saw how badly he had crinkled them. “Look - I found a single bedroom apartment just outside of Gotham. There’s a comedy club nearby that you could work at, and there’s another place near there I could work. Money would be tight but… when isn’t it?”

Arthur was silent, his expression frozen in a deep frown as he stared at you, his eyes unseeing.

“Too much.” You muttered to yourself. You had told him too much too fast and now he needed some time to just… replay your words, replay them again, replay the entire evening and just work it all out in his own time. Patience was always extremely necessary with Arthur. If you tried to make him talk before he was ready, before he had the words to speak, then he would close up so fast you wouldn’t even notice that he had been thinking of opening up. His walls were built up so strongly that even he couldn’t control them anymore.

“You want us to… live together… outside the city? You want a life with me?” Arthur was talking slowly, his voice incredulous, his tone soft yet somehow also raspy at the same time. Fuck, you loved him. You were head over heels for Arthur Fleck.

You nodded. “If you want to. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I was going to tell you when everything had been sorted out so that you had nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Arthur stepped away from you, putting physical distance between you, and looked you square in the face. Whatever he was about to say was important to him, and you did him the silent favour of giving him his favourite kind of audience: you. All of Gotham could have been at his feet hanging onto his every word in that moment and he would still only have eyes for you. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t right.”

“Apology accepted.” You smiled at him to take the edge off the moment. You could breathe now. The storm had passed. “Am I forgiven?” Please say yes, please say yes, please say -

“No.”

Your jaw dropped at Arthur’s completely serious face. “Shit, Arthur, I’m so so -”

He smiled without humour at you and you realised he had been partially joking. “I don’t forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who yelled at you, who scared you so bad you nearly had an attack. I’m sorry.”

You stepped forward, watched him carefully for any signs of rejection, and pulled him into a hug. He went with you gladly, melting into your hold, and you knew that the time for talking was over. There would be nothing more said tonight. You would choose an apartment together, focus on finding jobs, and then when the impossible became the probable and then the possible and then, the reality, then you would talk.

For now… for now, there was some serious cuddling to be done. However, there was one last thing you had to say -

“Arthur?”

He hummed into your neck gently, his breath tickling the hairs that lay there. he sounded like he was right on the edge of sleep. Well, you would take him to bed but not to sleep. You grinned deviously as you stroked his hair in a soothing motion.

“Did you know you’re really fucking attractive when you’re angry?”

Arthur pulled back from you just in time for a loud bout of laughter to rip its way out of his throat. You didn’t mind, though - he wasn’t laughing from pain or from nerves. He was laughing because he was happy and that was all you had ever wanted for him.

Now to secure your future together…

Arthur Fleck/Joker: @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky

#Nonnie #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #joker #joker imagine #joker 2019 imagine #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix #Joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #todd phillips #phoenix!joker #phoenix!joker x reader #phoenix!joker imagine

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panda-noosh · 5 years

Text

before the world burned {Diego x Reader}

Words: 7.6k

Summary: Five finally manages to return to his family after spending many years wandering through the rubble of the burned world. Too attached to leave you behind, Five brings you back home with him on the day of his dads funeral - and it is there that you meet his siblings. Specifically, Diego Hargreeves.

Genre: fluff i guess oof

Warning: PTSD

Notes: masterlist - support my writing or ask me about commissions :) - i loved writing this so much!! i hope you guys enjoy reading it!!

---

Five had really done it this time.

All his talk had finally come full circle, and you were not equipped to believe it.

For months he spoke about getting back to his own time. For months, he'd tried to convince you that he could, indeed, go back in time, that he wasn't actually from the time you met him in. For months, you really thought he was insane.

He hugged that stupid mannequin all the time. He spoke to himself. He went on about his dead siblings, and the end of the world, as if you hadn't watched it crumble just as much as he did. You only stayed by his side because you had no one else, and – quite frankly – you were a little worried to leave him on his own, afraid of what he would do if he had no one there to keep an eye on him.

He told you he had Dolores. You'd smiled at him, patted his knee and went back to eating whatever scraps the two of you managed to conjure up that day.

But today, he'd proved you wrong.

The way he grabbed your hand, so excited, not even waiting for you to get fully ready – that was the first red flag. Though Five was a strange individual, he wasn't hyper. He kept his head down and he minded his own business. He never got excited – not about anything. In the years you've known him, you've never once seen him get bubbly.

But his face was alight on this specific day, eyes shining. He grabbed your hand, didn't explain anything. The only words you got out of him were a rushed, “Hold on tight,” before you felt like your body was being ripped to shreds.

You tried to cry out, but it didn't work. At least, you didn't think it worked. Your heart was thundering too loud in your ears, the blood rushing to your face, the pain unbearable. Your skin was surely sliding off your bones. Your fingers were slipping out of Five's. He was grinning from ear to ear.

And then you fell to your knees.

You gasped for air, shooting upright just in time for a knife to find purchase at your throat; you stiffened, mind too muddled to make much sense of what was going on – you could smell rain. In the distance, someone was talking, but you couldn't really hear what they were saying. Beside you, Five shot to his feet and looked round his surroundings with the determination you were so familiar with seeing.

You followed his eyes, and immediately your heart fell.

Standing before you were five other people, all of whom were staring at you and Five with wide eyes; they were dressed in normal clothes. They didn't have ash streaking their faces, had no holes in their attire, weren't coughing up a lung or rubbing their eyes free of dust.

They just looked. . . normal.

Except for the man standing closest to you. He was dressed entirely in leather, with a mask to match.

“Five?” a tall woman with curly hair said, snapping the shocked silence in half.

You looked up at Five. “What the fuck did you just do?”

Five didn't even look back at you when he said, “Y/N, meet my siblings. It seems as if we've crashed my fathers funeral.”

“Dad isn't gonna be happy with you,” a brown haired man holding a cigarette muttered. “You know what he thought about bringing guests to the house.”

“Diego, take the knife away,” Five ordered. “We've got more important things to worry about than my acquaintance.”

The man dressed in leather continued to stare down at you, his knife still firm in his grip. You had half a mind to headbutt him in the groin, but decided against it when Five sent you a sharp look of warning – he was going to try and handle these strangers. You'd be better off just staying silent.

Nonetheless, you couldn't help but look up and give the man in leather – Diego – a sarcastic little smile. He scowled before slowly pulling away, knife and all.

You slumped forward. “Great. Now can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on?” You covered your mouth. “Are people allowed to swear at funerals these days?”

---

Apparently, Five's dad died.

Five had been unaware of this, of course, but looking at him now, it didn't look like he cared all that much. You sat at his kitchen table, a warm cup of tea having been prepared by the ape that was apparently the Hargreeves butler – you'd learned not to ask too many questions. Having lived with Number Five for this long, you'd grown to expect the rest of his siblings to be just as messed up.

They sat around the kitchen island, Klaus sat on the counter top with his legs folded beneath him. Allison, Vanya and Luther surrounded him. Five was pacing the kitchen.

And Diego was in the corner with his eyes set firmly on you.

You tried to ignore him, tried to listen in on the oh-so-interesting conversation the other Hargreeves kids were having, but it was difficult to do so when you were expecting Diego to jump across the kitchen counter and stab you in the throat at any given moment. He had the knives for it, and by the sounds of things, the temper, too.

“I don't ever remember Dad teaching you how to go back and forward in time,” said Luther. He was built like a brick house; you kindly didn't comment on it.

“Dad didn't need to teach me anything,” said Five. “I was always capable of doing things entirely on my own.”

“What a waste of time,” Klaus scoffed. “Dad didn't put us through that shit just for you to go off and learn on your own. Whatever you've been doing these past few years-”

“He's been hanging round with strangers, apparently.”

You bit your lip, flicking your eyes up at Diego; he had such an issue with you, and you couldn't pinpoint why. Even when your eyes met his, he refused to look away. He just continued trying to look intimidating, arms folded over his chest, eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to figure out who you were, where you came from.

If he'd asked, you would have told him. The stories you had to tell couldn't be nearly as weird as the stories you've heard today, as getting served tea by a British walking, talking ape.

Five waved a dismissive hand in your direction. “Y/N was just an altercation. Don't mind them.”

“Thanks, asshole,” you muttered.

“No, no, wait,” said Allison, stepping forward. “I don't want to just ignore this. You disappear for years, and then suddenly you show up again with a friend who we know nothing about – you literally fell out of the sky.”

“This is what I've been saying!” said Diego.

Five narrowed his eyes. “I've just tried to explain the entire situation to you all. Why do you care so much about Y/N?”

“A stranger,” said Luther, as if it was obvious. Maybe to them, it was. You couldn't help but feel a little attacked.

You sighed and leaned back in the chair kindly offered to you by Klaus, the only one of the Hargreeves siblings who didn't look like they would blow your head off at the first chance available. “You know, if you have a problem with me, you can just tell me to go.”

“Y/N-” began Five.

“I don't know these people,” you pressed. “I don't know what the fuck you lot are even talking about. I'm sorry about your Dad, but I couldn't give two shits about what happened to him.”

Klaus laughed. “Join the club!”

You stood up. “I'll just go and hang out outside until you've all discussed what you need to discuss, and then you can ask me whatever you want to ask. How does that sound?”

The Hargreeves siblings paused, regarding you with narrowed eyes – none of them looked alike, but you were beginning to understand why. Though none of them confirmed it, it was becoming more and more clear that they weren't related by blood.

“I don't trust you just standing outside on your own,” said Diego. You turned, scowling at him. He was the one you were having the most trouble with. “I'll go with you.”

“Or you could just stab me.”

Five clicked his fingers in your direction before pointing towards the door. “No arguments. Just go and stand outside – Diego, keep an eye on them.”

You gawked. “Five!”

“Go!”

You groaned, glared at Diego one more time before you marched out the front door. The sun had finally come out, a direct contrast to the storm that had been taking place during Reginald Hargreeve's funeral. The little tree his ashes were buried beneath still stood tall and proud, a tiny dab of blood on the trunk from where Luther and Diego had apparently gotten into an altercation only seconds before you and Five fell from the sky.

You approached the tree now, tracing your fingers along the bark; it had been a long time since you'd seen a true, healthy plant. After the world ended, they all just died off – there was the odd one here and there, but they'd become more of a rarity than anything else.

Looking at it now brought you back to that god awful time Five had managed to free you from; though the little bastard got on your nerves, you would never be able to thank him enough for what he'd done for you. You remembered the screams, and the smoke, watching your family run directly into the fires because they didn't know where else to go – the world was ending. The fires were everywhere. People were everywhere.

And then they weren't.

You still aren't sure how you managed to survive it all. Maybe it was Five. Maybe the world just looked at him and thought He really can't be left on his own and then they threw you in his path and left you to look after him. Who would have thought it would be him saving you in the long run?

“Why are you here?”

You didn't turn at the sound of Diego's voice. You froze, however, with your fingertips still brushing the bark. You were scared to step away from it, lest it disintegrate into ashes like all the other plants you'd seen.

“Five brought me,” you replied.

“But why? How do you two even know each other?”

You shrugged. “I don't really know.”

Diego hummed, as if that answer made any sense at all. You heard him rattle around behind you, sitting down on a nearby tree stump. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw him tugging grass from the ground and sprinkling it on his leather boots.

“How did you two meet?” he asked, not looking up.

“He was in the ash, and so was I.”

“Do you ever talk like a normal person?”

You shrugged. “Depends who I'm talking to. Five and I can have pretty deep conversations sometimes – though most of the time he's just getting on my nerves.”

Diego scoffed. “Yeah. Same here.”

“Did you think he was dead?” You weren't sure why the question was there, or why you even cared, but it was out before you could ponder over details.

Diego looked up, eyes meeting yours for a brief second before he looked away again. “We all did. None of us knew he'd learned how to mess around with time.”

“Must have been hard. He told me about Number Six.”

“Ben.” Diego nodded. “Yeah. He died a few years after Five went missing.”

“And then you guys just. . . stopped talking?”

“We moved on,” Diego corrected. “None of us ever wanted to stay with our dad, so we left as soon as we could. I guess we lost touch with each other, as well.”

It was a sad thing to think about; Five never spoke about his siblings with any particular fondness, but he spoke about them often enough for you to know he cared about them. When he wasn't speaking complete gibberish, he was talking about his family life, how much his siblings annoyed him and what they'd gotten up to as kids – when they had the chance to be kids. Though he never specified, you had the vague idea from his stories that Reginald Hargreeves didn't want to raise children – he wanted to raise heroes.

“The Umbrella Academy,” you said, the name suddenly appearing in your mind from the stories Five told you.

Diego perked up. “How do you know about that?”

“Five told me a bit about it.” You grinned, glancing at his leather suit. “I see not all of you have moved on, huh?”

Diego grumbled, tugging on his leather trousers. “This isn't a superhero costume, before you start making fun of me.”

“Then what is it? Were your boy shorts in the wash?”

Diego rolled his eyes. “It's got a lot of pockets.”

You paused.

Diego looked up. “I have knives everywhere. It gives me easy access to them.”

“Ah, right,” you drawled. “Why do you need knives, may I ask?”

“That's what I'm good at.”

“You're good at knives?”

“Well, what are you good at?”

You shrugged. “Surviving. Winding up superheroes, apparently.”

Diego stood up. “I'm not a superhero! I'm a crime fighter!”

You snickered, unable to help yourself. Diego's face reddened, fingers tightening at his sides until you were fairly certain you'd crossed a line – no matter how much you laughed at him, there was no denying that he was, indeed, good with knives. You'd felt the kiss of metal against your throat just seconds after laying eyes on the man.

You quietened down, covering your mouth timidly. “Sorry. Yes. You're a crime fighter, not a superhero. I should know the difference.”

Diego's expression softened. “Good.”

You slowly sat down on the ground, leaning your back against the tree trunk. Diego watched you, and you didn't miss the way his fingers twitched towards his knives – though you were unarmed, he clearly still saw you as a threat, someone he needed to keep an eye on.

“So what kind of crime do you typically fight?” you asked.

“All of it.”

“Every single thing? So you just walk up to a poor kid who's been pirating music and you whip out your blades-”

“Who gave you the right to tease me so much?” He folded his arms over his chest. “You don't even know me.”

You shrugged. “I watched the world burn, Diego. I've gotten past the point of caring what people think of me, and therefore, I'll say whatever I want.”

He raised a brow. “So that's where you and Five went. To the end of the world.”

“That's where Five, and Five alone, went. I was there first. I'm an original.”

If you'd looked away for even a brief second, you would have missed the tiny twitch of Diego's mouth. It was the closest thing to a smile of affection you'd managed to coax out of the crime fighter this entire time, and it felt like a triumph. You crossed your ankles and looked up at him.

“I might just stick around and experience it all over again,” you said, even as the words planted some type of fight or flight response in your system. “We can experience it together!”

Diego raised a brow. “You're a sick son of a bitch.”

You grinned, sending him a wink.

---

The sweat was always the worst part of waking up from one of these nightmares.

Sure, the dream itself was horrific, but once you were out of it, it was gone, finished. You could go back to sleep and start all over again.

But the sweat made you get up.

Your breathing ragged, heart thumping, you stumbled into the nearest bathroom and locked the door. Five wasn't in his bedroom, no doubt too busy working on whatever stupid project he'd locked himself in this time, so you didn't even bother going to him for any sort of help.

You bent over the sink, trying to catch your breath. There was a physical pain in your chest, only soothing when you put a tiny bit of pressure against it. With one hand curled into your collar bone, you used the other to rub water on your face, ridding your forehead of the disgusting flood of sweat you hated so much.

Who would have thought watching the world burn would give someone PTSD?

The nightmare had depicted it happening all over again. As per usual, it was in chunks, little snippets you could barely make out – it wasn't even the visuals that got to you. It was the sounds in the background, the screams, your mother crying your name just seconds before an explosion went off beside her and she was suddenly no longer existing. They echoed in your head even after you'd fully awoken, even after you splashed the water on your face, even after you told your reflection to man the fuck up.

That's what Five always said to you when you woke up. He'd look over at you, raise a brow, give you that smug little smile and he'd say, “Man the fuck up,” and you'd go back to sleep with that advice being your comfort blanket. Five may have showed his love for you in strange ways, but you'd spent long enough with him to know it was there, whether his words depicted it or not.

But now, he wasn't just there. He was away in his office. He had rooms to explore, a whole world with working shops and other people – he didn't need to stay tethered to your side at all times, so you were entirely on your own right now.

You brushed some more water down your face before the knock on the door startled you upright. You glared at your reflection, examining whether or not it would be a good idea to open the door – your appearance had you leaning more towards no, hair wild and eyes bright red.

Instead, you opted for simply calling out an, “Occupado!”

“I know.”

You closed your eyes. Diego. What did he want?

“I heard you run in here. Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine,” you lied. “Do you need to piss?”

He sighed. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

If you were any less wise, perhaps you'd be able to convince yourself that Diego Hargreeves actually sounded concerned. The mere thought was enough to have you grinning in amusement.

“Do you have any alcohol?” you asked.

Diego paused. “Pogo might know where some is.”

“I'll have anything you can give me.”

“Then you're gonna have to come out.”

“Just pass it through the door.”

“How are we meant to have a drink together if there's a door between us?”

You opened your mouth, quickly closed it and cocked an eyebrow at your reflection. “You want to have a drink with me?”

“Well, yeah. There's no way I'm getting back to sleep now.”

It would have been wiser to just say no. He would ask you questions, make you go through the nightmare you'd had, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. It was one thing reliving the horror in your dreams, a different thing to speak them aloud.

Nonetheless, your willpower wavered. You needed a drink, anything to help you get back to sleep after the night you'd had – you may as well give Diego a chance.

So, you shakily inhaled and pulled open the bathroom door. You didn't miss the intake of breath Diego sucked between his teeth at the sight of you, but neither did you stick around to question it; you shoved past him and headed down the hall, giving him nothing but a single, “Where's this alcohol you promised?”

----

As it turns out, Diego wasn't much of a talker when he had alcohol in his system.

You sat across from him, one leg folded over the other. The wine Pogo hesitantly gave you was doing nothing to calm your trembling hands – trembling hands that Diego saw and thankfully decided not to bring up; maybe he could sense talking about your nightmare wasn't what you wanted to do right now. Maybe he just didn't care.

Either way, the conversation wasn't flowing at all. You just continued to stare at him, taking the occasional sip of your wine. You were beginning to regret agreeing to this at all.

Diego swirled his wine, gazing down at the liquid lazily. He was already on his third glass, and clearly had no plans of stopping.

“Maybe you should slow down a little bit.”

Diego glanced up. “Or not.” He took a long swig, downing the remainder of the glass before reaching forward to pour another one. However, you were quicker, managing to snatch the bottle out of his way before he had a chance to curl his fingers around it.

He sighed, slumping back. He splayed his arms out behind him, not caring that the tiny droplet left in the bottom of his glass tipped over the back of the sofa as he did so. He regarded you with a lazy gaze, a scowl on his face.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. “You're not gonna let a man have a drink?”

“You've had a drink,” you replied. “Three of them.”

“It's my wine.”

“It's Reginald's,” you corrected. “Who, apparently, you don't give a shit about.” Diego snickered, tossing his head back. “Didn't give a shit about. He's dead.”

You frowned. “That's a bit morbid, Diego. He was still your dad.”

“He was the man I happened to live with.” Diego looked up. “I don't have a dad. I never have.”

You pursed your lips, deciding not to pry; Five had said things along a similar line, claiming Reginald Hargreeve's wasn't somebody he was fond of associating with. Of course, Five had said it with a little bit more insanity and a little less alcohol, but you could see the two brothers walked along a similar path.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “It's best for you to not drink any more, anyway.”

“Who gave you that authority? You're in my house.”

“Because clearly the alcohol has put you in some kind of mood.”

“It's not the alcohol. It's you.” He reached over and snatched the bottle from your hands; you didn't even try fighting him, instead watching him with narrowed eyes. His cheeks were glowing bright red, yet he smiled even as he poured his fourth glass of wine and took a swig almost as soon as he put the bottle back down on the table. “So why don't you start telling me what you were doing in that bathroom earlier on?”

You froze. You should have expected the question to make an appearance at some point, and yet the words falling so violently from his lips gave you pause. You looked down, biting your lower lip in your attempts to keep your anger at bay – he was drunk, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. He wasn't in his right mind.

“That's none of your business, Diego.”

He raised a brow, looking at you over the rim of his glass. “When you say it's none of my business, that just makes me more curious – what have you got to hide? You and Five aren't fucking, are you?”

“That's disgusting. He looks like a twelve year old boy.”

“Mm. I heard time warps will do that to a person.” Diego snickered. “You two didn't even kiss when you were alone together?”

“What the fuck, Diego? Why are you even asking about this?”

“Well, you two have been so private about everything else, and I've never seen Five get so comfortable with someone before. I just want to know what makes you so special.”

“What makes me so special is the fact I was the only one left,” you hissed. “Now can you stick your nose out of my business and drink your fucking wine before I shove this bottle so far up your-”

“What's going on in here?”

Both your heads snapped round as Five wandered into the living room, Pogo trailing behind him. The ape looked slightly guilty, looking at you over the rim of his circular glasses; you wondered if he ever slept. Did creatures made by human hands need sleep?

Five raised a brow in your direction, glancing at your half finished glass of wine. You quickly set it down on the coffee table and stood up, flattening your hands over your pyjama top. “Nothing. I was just getting up to leave.”

“No you weren't,” Diego grunted. “You were just about tell me all of your dirty little secrets.”

You looked at Five. “Does he ever shut the fuck up?”

Five sighed, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to clear them of the anger building. You'd know that look anywhere; Five wasn't in the mood for this.

“It's been a day,” he said. “And already you two are at each others throats.”

“He's drunk,” you said.

“And you're not?” Five nodded to your glass. “You haven't touched a drop of alcohol in a long time, Y/N. The tiniest bit is gonna have you on the floor. You should have known better.”

“Oh, go to hell, Five,” Diego scoffed. “What right do you have telling us what not to do? You're the one that disappeared for years on end, and won't explain why.”

“And I won't explain why until I feel like you're going to be mature enough to handle it,” Five snapped, before turning to you. “What are you doing up?”

“Nightmare.”

It was as simple as that; with Five, you wouldn't need to explain yourself, wouldn't need to go into the details of what you'd been dreaming about. He heard the word, and he just knew.

His eyes softened only slightly before he sighed and pointed to the door. “Go back to bed.”

“Yes sir,” you grumbled. Diego snickered as you left, amused by the way Five could so easily boss you about – he didn't understand. In truth, being around Diego in itself was making you angry. You needed to get away, and if it made you look like a complete kiss-up in the process, then that's what happened. You would take any and all excuses right now.

You wandered back to Five's bedroom and fell to the mattress on the floor. Your muscles ached. Your hands were still trembling, and sweat was still coating your forehead, no matter how often you wiped it away. Why the nightmares were getting worse was beyond you, but you didn't want to ponder too deeply on the subject – that would mean facing it, and you couldn't do that right now. Five had a mission, had chosen you to help him out with it. He wanted to save the world, and you couldn't get distracted from that task right now.

---

Weeks passed before you finally found your footing in the Hargreeves household.

Allison and Luther had finally warmed up to you, though they continued to treat you as more of a guest than anything else; on the rare occasions you actually saw Vanya, she spoke to you like a friend; Klaus was just high all the time, so it really depended on what drugs he'd taken that day to determine what mood he would take on with you. Most of the time, however, he was fairly polite.

Diego, on the other hand, was a different matter.

It wasn't like he was hostile, because he wasn't. He had an edge to him, but you noticed he had that with everyone. You were not a special case – at least, not in that way.

The two of you bickered like an old married couple, and it drove you insane because that wasn't how it was meant to be; he was a pain in the ass. Once upon a time, ignoring people like him had been easy – that was your go-to method of getting rid of them. But with Diego, his comments struck a nerve in you that had you turning and firing back even worse insults.

And he was attractive, which made it all ten times worse.

Even in that stupid leather suit of his, you still could not look at him without feeling those butterflies rise in the pit of your stomach. Even though you sometimes wanted to knock his teeth into the back of his throat, you would be lying to claim his smile did not absolutely floor you.

It was so frustrating.

This morning, you'd been woken up by yet another jarring nightmare. The clock read five am, and you'd rolled out of bed and gone downstairs, waiting for the sun to rise so you could officially start your day.

The first person downstairs was Diego.

He had a towel round the back of his neck and was wearing a casual outfit consisting of a plain, tight black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, rolled at the cuffs to reveal his ankles. His hair was ruffled, slightly damp from the shower.

You looked at him from the sofa as he approached the fridge and started looking for something to make. “So you're still here.”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “So are you.”

“Crazy. Are you making coffee?”

“No. Coffee can give you stomach ulcers.”

“Oh.” You paused. “Can you make coffee?”

“Make your own damn coffee.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.” You shoved yourself up from the sofa and headed into the kitchen, making sure to nudge his hip on your way to the coffee machine. He grunted, kicking you in the back of the leg before going back to his breakfast-rummaging.

“Did Five get you into coffee?” Diego asked.

“No,” you replied. “I've loved coffee since I came out of the womb.”

“So you have a coffee addiction?”

“Yeah.”

Diego hummed. “Good to hear you admit to it.”

You shrugged, placing your cup beneath the slow dribble of water. The smell of the caffeine was already waking you up a little more, though the screams echoing in your head had done that job many hours ago.

“How long have you been awake?”

You looked at the clock. “Three hours.”

Diego shot upright. “You woke up at five am?”

“Had a bit of a nightmare.”

His eyebrow twitched. “You have an awful lot of those.”

You shrugged again. The conversation was starting to tilt onto icy ground, and you weren't entirely sure whether or not you were willing to dive in to that side of things just yet; yes, it had been a few weeks, and Diego had already been subject to your trembling morning self on multiple occasions, but actually sitting down and talking to him about the psychology behind these episodes was something you wanted to avoid. You didn't even understand them just yet.

“You know, maybe coffee isn't the right thing to be drinking if you've got night terrors.”

You scoffed, grabbing your cup and taking a swig despite the beverage scolding you. “No, Diego, I think it's the perfect thing to be drinking when I've got night terrors.”

“Have you ever tried green tea before bed?”

“No, but I lit a green tea candle once and Five tried to smother me with his wife's t-shirt.”

Diego blinked. You hid your smile behind the rim of your coffee mug, staring right back at him. You could watch the cogs turning in his mind, trying to figure out whether you were joking or not – you wouldn't be the one to tell him that this event had genuinely happened, and was one of many times Five had woken up in the middle of the night, thought you were some kind of murderer, and tried to kill you.

You'd done the same to him on multiple occasions, so it was fine.

At last, Diego sighed. “What about taking a walk before bed?”

“Diego, I'm fine-”

“I can go with you if you're scared of getting lost.”

You paused. “You'd take me on walks?”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter. For the first time, Diego Hargreeves actually looked a little bit sheepish. “If it helps you sleep, then I don't see why not. I've got nothing better to do until the police let me back on the force.”

You could already imagine how this little walk would go – it would just be one big argument the entire time.

“Alright then.”

Diego's eyes shot up. “Yeah?”

“As you said, I don't see why not,” you said, shrugging. “I've got nothing better to do.”

---

The city was breathtaking at night.

Breathtaking and dark, and busy and loud, and it smelled of smoke.

You tried not to concentrate too much on the smell of smoke as you and Diego walked through the streets. It was smoke from cigarettes, from chimneys, from burning wood – it wasn't smoke from the ashes of dead people.

That hadn't happened yet.

Diego sighed, his breath fanning out in front of him. He'd pulled on a beanie before leaving the house tonight, and you had to admit that the messy, underdone look he was going for was one you thought he suited.

“I didn't realise it would be this fucking cold tonight, you know.”

“It's not that bad,” you replied, even as you curled your fingers up in the pockets of your jacket. “I think you're just a bit of a wimp.”

Diego scoffed. “I'm tougher than you. At least I can get a good nights sleep without having a nightmare.”

You fell silent. He hadn't meant it in a bad way, and you hadn't necessarily taken it badly – you just didn't want to retort with something you knew would be a weak comeback.

Because he was right, of course.

Diego flicked his eyes over to you. Even in the darkness, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head, knew he was about to ask you something personal.

You beat him to it. “I have nightmares about the end of the world.” Diego paused. “Why?”

You shrugged lazily. “Because I lived through it, I guess.”

“So they're like flashbacks?”

“If you want to call them that. Nightmares makes it sound more sinister, less like a That's So Raven episode.”

“So...” Diego inhaled, grasping for the right words. “So the end of the world gave you PTSD?”

“I didn't come out here to be diagnosed-”

“It's not a bad thing.” Diego looked at you. “And I'm not diagnosing you. I'm just trying to understand.”

“There's nothing to understand. I have nightmares. That's it.” You bit your lip. “Hopefully these walks will help a little bit.”

Diego's shoulders slumped. The two of you continued to walk in silence, the only sound being the cars screaming past. Sometimes, a group of rowdy teenagers would make an appearance, but one look at Diego and they immediately quietened down – even so many years on, the Umbrella Academy was still a known phenomenon around these parts. People recognised Diego, saw him as the fierce kid who was born under such confusing circumstances, gifted these abilities that everyone wanted but only he and his siblings had been given.

In truth, Diego Hargreeves was a very interesting character. Try as you might to make him out to be the biggest bastard on two legs, he was someone you could analyse for hours on end and still not have all the answers. He picked and he chose who he told his secrets to.

You were thankful that he'd decided to open up – even just a little bit – to you, a person he barely knew, a person he seemed to hate in the beginning.

You glanced at him now, his body tense as he tried to fight off the cold. Maybe you shouldn't have seen him as normal. Maybe you should have been like everyone else, looking at him in awe because he had this fantastical past and these powers that nobody could really explain.

But in the same breath, maybe he should have been looking at you in the same way; you were the person who witnessed the end of the world, the person who went back in time.

You balanced each other out, and maybe that was why you were able to walk beside him and feel so calm.

---

It was the worst one yet.

You hadn't even meant to fall asleep.

These sleepless nights had finally gotten the better of you, and you couldn't keep your eyes open. Sitting in the Hargreeves' living room, your head had fallen to your shoulder and you'd drifted off into a sleep that was totally uncalled for, and certainly unplanned.

It ripped you apart.

The screams were doubled. The ash was rising, rising, rising, choking you, filling your lungs and staining your teeth and it wasn't just ash from cigarettes, or a chimney, or a burning pile of wood – it was the ash of bodies. It was burned human beings, because that was all there was left; rubble and ash, and it was in your mouth and your hair and your lungs-

“Y/N!”

You cried out. The noise was ripped from your throat as you lurched forward and immediately dug your fingers into Diego's shoulder blades; he didn't flinch away. His own hands dug into your waist, holding you up as tears poured from your face – you couldn't even process your own emotions at this point, too busy trying to fight back to reality.

Diego was in front of you. That was one thing you were sure of.

His eyes traced your own, a franticness to them that you'd never seen in the usually calm, collected and confident man.

“Fuck,” you hissed, hands trembling. “I fell asleep. I wasn't meant to fall asleep-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Calm down, alright? Take a deep breath and talk to me.”

You inhaled deeply. Your body took the air in well, assuring you there was no ash in your system – it was a dream. Just a dream.

A memory.

“Did you have another flashback?”

You closed your eyes. “It was really bad this time.”

“Do you want me to get Five?”

Your eyes snapped open, fingers digging a little harsher into his bare skin. “No. Don't leave.”

Diego's expression softened. You caught the flicker of surprise, but it was quickly covered by his nod. You leaned back against the sofa again, this time dragging him down beside you. His hand curled round your waist, and without even asking him to, he pulled you into his side and let you rest your head on his chest.

His bare chest, considering the man was shirtless.

“I'm sorry if I woke you up.”

“Don't be an idiot.”

“Was I loud?”

Diego shrugged. “It doesn't matter.”

“Just answer the question, jackass.”

He sighed, tilting his head back to get a good look at you. “I went into Five's room to check if you were asleep, and you weren't there; when I came down here to look for you, you were thrashing about on the sofa, sounding like you'd swallowed your own tongue.”

You winced. “Yeah. I dreamt there was ash in my mouth.”

Diego raised a brow.

“Don't ask,” you mumbled, before tucking your head back beneath his chin. “I said I wouldn't go to sleep tonight. I promised-”

“You can't just stay awake for the rest of your life,” he said. “You've gotta learn how to deal with these flashbacks you keep getting.”

“I am dealing with them. By not sleeping.”

Diego flicked your forehead.

You reeled back. “Diego-”

“I'm serious,” he said. “I don't like seeing you this way.” He grabbed your hand, waved it in front of your face. “You're trembling, for fuck sake.”

You snatched your hand back. “And I'll get over it.”

Diego shook his head; even without looking up at him, you could tell he was frowning. You'd grown so used to that frown, so fond of it these past few weeks.

It made you smile.

Even with your trembling hands and your thumping headache, just winding Diego up was enough to make you feel that little bit better. The added help of his warmth tucked against your own was an added bonus.

“Do you ever get nightmares, Diego?”

He froze for just a second. “Sometimes.”

You shifted, tilting your head up to look at him. “About what?”

“Everything.” He bit his lip. “My childhood, mostly. I have this nightmare all the time of my dad getting really mad at me and kicking me out of the house because of my stutter.”

You raised a brow. “You don't have a stutter.”

“Y-yes I d-d-do.” Diego groaned. “It only comes out s-sometimes, but it used be v-very bad when I was a kid.”

You chuckled, tapping his chest in reassurance. “That's cute.”

“Yeah well. My dad hated it.”

“By the sounds of things, your dad hated everything. I wouldn't think too deep into it.”

Diego chuckled, shocking you just a bit by nuzzling his head against the top of your own. You fell silent again, basking in his warmth and the sound of his heartbeat. It was a nice change to lean your head against him and not be able to feel the bumps and ridges of knives hiding beneath his clothes – this was just Diego. Purely Diego, and nothing else.

His fingers traced a line up your spine. You shivered.

“You should try and get some sleep,” he whispered. “I'll be here to wake you up if I think you're slipping into a nightmare.”

You looked up. “You need to sleep, too.”

“I've already had a few hours. Plus, you look exhausted.”

“I'm not tired,” you insisted, and it was partly true. Logically, you really were tired – drained. Your body hadn't seen a decent rest in weeks. But in this moment, you were able to push that exhaustion away, because the feel of Diego against you was so much more appealing than the idea of sleeping. You didn't want to waste this moment.

Diego frowned down at you, and you couldn't help but grin. He narrowed his eyes.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You're not even gonna tell me off for being a stubborn bitch?”

“I don't see the point – you've made it very clear these past few weeks that you don't give a shit about what I have to say.”

You hummed. “True enough.”

“You know, if you stay awake, you have to tell me the truth.”

You froze. “The truth?”

“About you and my brother.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Diego-”

He laughed, grabbing your chin to turn your head to him. You looked him dead in the eye, unable to hide your own smile at the look of pure amusement etched across his features. “Just tell me if you two had anything.”

“He's married.”

“To a mannequin!”

“I respect Dolores too much to try and go for her man.”

Diego rolled his eyes. His voice lowered when he next spoke. “So you're saying you have no feelings towards Five at all?”

You shook your head.

Diego scooted a little closer to you. “You've never had any feelings for him?”

You leaned in, lips inches from his ear when you whispered, “Not ever.”

A low growl emitted from Diego's throat. You could basically hear his restraints snapping when he finally reached out, grabbed your face and kissed you with an intensity that had you seeing stars.

Your body lit up immediately. You shifted, straddling him, kissing him back as best you could with what little experience you'd had; Diego kissed like it was his day job, lips working professionally against your own. You could almost cover the fact that you had very little idea as to what you were doing.

He bit your lip when he pulled away. Your eyes popped open, wide and telling, but Diego simply grinned.

“Good?”

You swallowed. “Very good.”

He traced his thumb along your jaw, gently brushing it against your lower lip. You bit down on his thumb nail for just a second before he pinched your hip, causing you to yelp and jump a little in his lap.

He opened his mouth to say something else, to probably tell you to go to sleep, but his words were cut off by the sound of a groan coming from the living room door.

Your head snapped round, body freezing at the sight of Five shaking his head, arms folded over his chest.

“I bring one friend home with me, and already Diego has you sitting on his dick.”

Diego sighed, tilting his head against the back of the sofa. “Do either of you ever sleep?”

You and Five glanced at each other. At the same time, you both said, “Nope!” a little too cheerfully. Diego rolled his eyes, and you pressed a very light kiss to his lips in silent apology.

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k-fiction-therapy · 5 years

Text

Into The Night (Version 5 - Hyungwon)

Moodboard by Admin Scar

Starring: Chae Hyungwon & Reader

Includes: Vampire!AU, Night Life & Vague TB References

Rating: 18+

~*.*..*“It was just supposed to be a night out, but this...this was a night in hell--and how beautiful the devil was.”*..*.*~

A/N: Hello, all! This is the fifth installment of “Into the Night”, a series that highlights seven very different Vampire!AU stories, each involving a different member of Monsta X as the main male lead. <3 I hope you enjoy them. I have been obsessed with Vampires since I was a child, and my attraction to them only grows the older I get~ I do hope that my take on these different vampire tropes tickles your fancy as it has mine.

Version 1 - Shownu

Version 2 - Wonho

Version 3 - Minhyuk

Version 4 - Kihyun

Version 5 - Hyungwon

Version 6 - Jooheon

Version 7 - Changkyun

Asks Open for Feedback, Comments, Kudos and Thoughts. <3

Dust settled in your bones as you unpacked boxes in the living area of your new house, the layout open, making the home look far bigger than it actually was. Eyes traveling over the furnishings, you found yourself with a bittersweet taste in your mouth. You remembered that moving out on your own represented independence and new opportunities, it also shed light on the things that life had ripped from you—the very things that pushed you to move in the first place. In the dust and peeking sun rays that dotted the tops of marked boxes your memories were written; forcing you to take a moment’s pause.

He had run into the arms of someone else as if he had loved them all his life, crushing your heart beneath his heel. You could have strangled him to death for what he had done to you, but despite the pain he caused you and the knife he put in your back, you still kept his clothes and smelled them while you sobbed as if you were in grief of a wondrous love lost. He was poison, but damn did the apple taste so sweet. He had another heart to mangle, and you were left with no one. You felt utterly alone, and regardless of your best friend telling you that you were a ‘catch’ and that they would help you ‘get back out there’, you still felt the pangs of hopelessness tug on your broken heart.

Sighing, you dropped down into your floor and leaned against the couch, your legs crisscrossing comfortably. The wind pushed from you, and particles burst from the vintage cushions, the sofa groaning as if it were commiserating with you. You couldn’t allow yourself to wallow. What good did it do? None. What would it heal? Nothing. Perhaps you should take your friend’s advice and get back out there—but where would you go?

A club had been suggested, only about a half hour train ride from where you lived, but the notion made you laugh. It wasn’t that you were against clubs, it’s just that you weren’t exactly up to the task of being thrust into such a physical environment. Truth be told, you weren’t exactly the club-goer, and when you thought of awkwardly gyrating on the dance floor, you wanted to facepalm. If you were already embarrassed of yourself, how did you expect to manage actually doing it?

Your phone chiming broke your concentration, and you quickly picked it up, secretly hoping it was a Snap from your bestie, goading you into attending tonight—but what you got was a social media notification…for him. You had forgotten that you had tapped that bell, that every time he posted, you were going to see it—and there they were, arm in arm, lips close and eyes lovingly focused on one another. You could have crushed your phone, a tear rolling down your cheek. Anger became you, and you quickly unfollowed him, closing your phone before dropping it onto the couch behind you. Forcing air from your nose, you cracked—

“You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go.”

***************

The night was cold, and with you scantily dressed, the warm color of the pink neon was doing nothing to stop the chill of your exposed skin. You walked down the sidewalk towards the blacked-out doors of club ₩onder, your best friend by your side, stumbling a bit as they fixed their makeup in a compact; and you found yourself curious of where they were going to stash it, sure it would leave an odd shape in those spandex hot-pants. Honestly, the thought of it gave you a much-needed laugh.

Prodding you because you were laughing, they knocked against your arm and smiled wide, locking fingers with you to pull you along, quickly moving into the line. Glancing to the other patrons, you felt immediately out of place. Black leather, lace, and chokers galore, you swore you had stumbled onto the Gothic underground. Honestly, you weren’t dressed badly, but you felt like you should have been warned so that you could have worn black and blended in—no one likes to stick out because they’re one blue smudge in a sea of ash.

“You should have told me it was a bondage club, I would have dressed the part.” You whispered to your companion, leaning close to them, your ass perked and back arched, catching the attention of the bouncer, who did his part to move the line along.

“₩onder is not a bondage club, it’s…artistic.” Your friend said, waving a hand.

“There’s literally someone in a leather puppy mask, and another with a horse tail butt plug.” You gestured towards a few people not far up in the line from where you stood. Honestly, the horse tail had you mesmerized, but you found yourself wondering if they straightened, or brushed it. It looked so soft as it moved, perfectly contrasting the rubber tail of the puppy a few spots further up the line. Said puppy was on all fours, moving their hips back and forth obediently, making their tail wag, as their master gripped a leather leash and gently pet their snout, making cute little sounds pour from their lips. A part of you found it oddly cute, and you might have smiled, but you couldn’t shake the scene.

“Come on. Keep an open mind!” Your bestie said, swatting at your arm playfully, before winking, “—or would you rather go home to your vibrator?”

“Hey, don’t bring Kai into this!” You could have put them in a headlock, but someone here might have taken it the wrong way. They just deserved a punch for saying something like that out loud. So embarrassing–you might have been blushing, but your layers of makeup saw to it that it didn’t see the light of day.

“I can’t believe you named it that.” They rolled their eyes so dramatically that you swore you heart them turn in their head, “You’re so sad.”

You wrinkled your brows and shook your head, gesturing to the line and towards the club, though the volume of your voice didn’t raise. You didn’t want to call attention to yourself, “You are the one that is looking for love in a place like this—”

“Oh, I’m not looking for love. Unless it’s thick, and deep…Mmf.” They said, running a hand down their front, giving a half-hearted, trashy body roll. You laughed behind your hand, but they didn’t stop there, moving their ass like a bitch scorned, “You should stop thinking about ‘marriage’ and ‘eternity’, and all that shit. Focus on the here and now.” Their fingers pointed to the ground before they made an obscene gesture, tongue in their cheek, “You need to get laid.”

“Well, that’s your opinion—” Crossing your arms, you looked away, pretending to scan the place, mostly because you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It wasn’t that you were sensitive about your lack of recent carnal vocation, but rather because you felt like the odd one out for not jumping on the first cock you saw.

“Mhm. The right one. Fill up your empty hole.” They twitched a finger back and forth, grinning from ear to ear.

“Why are we friends?” You huffed.

“Shut up, you love me.”

The bouncer moved a hand from side to side, gesturing for you both to move forward. He was a tall man, and quite dense in muscle. His shirt was rather tight, and he seemed perpetually flexed, waiting for someone to pick a fight with him. There was a real masculinity that radiated from him that made you feel both safe and terribly insecure at the same time. Checking your IDs, he waved you in, taking a moment to roll his eyes down the line of your spines—and it sent uncomfortable shivers across your bare shoulders as you pushed into the place.

Pulsing with rhythmic pop and dance music, ₩onder truly looked like an undulating mass of Gothic intrigue, the mass of people making it hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Trying to get into the swing of the place, you wound through people, keeping as close to your friend as you could, heading for the bar. Looking over the drink list, you wrinkled your brows—they were all named after blood types and the like.

Glancing to your companion, who had already ordered and was smelling their drink curiously, you assumed it was just witty word play, and ordered a “O+ Passion”, which was handed to you in a crystal glass, and was as deep red as the night was black. You sniffed at the rim of the glass, the copper bloom of the liquor filling your nose, making your eyes water. What the hell. Taking a drink, you immediately spit it back into the glass, trying to do so behind your hand so as not to offend anyone, especially the bartender.

You felt as if the liquid had stained your teeth, so you licked furiously at them, feeling as if a film had been permanently placed atop your canines. What an odd drink. Turning to the dance floor, you glanced up to make sure no one had seen you—and over the crowd, from the front of the room, eyes like pale-blue, lavender ice gripped you, cutting straight to your heart. Plush tiers of rose down, and porcelain skin held your gaze, making you shake where you stood—you were lucky you hadn’t dropped your drink in awe.

He must have been many meters from you, across the dance floor, but he felt like he was standing right in front of you. Seated in a baroque style throne atop a pedestal, white yet reflecting pink from the lights of the club, he exuded power and dominant sensuality. His legs were as long as you could see, and his arms matched, hands resting delicately, and fingers flexed. He was somehow the most dominantly severe and beautifully soft thing you had ever seen in your entire life. A fire lit within you, and suddenly, you needed to know him at the deepest parts of your soul—to have him fill you with all that he was, and use you as he liked; twist you into a gorgeous pretzel.

***************

On your knees in front of him, like King and peasant, your back arched, chest heaving as it begged for him, his energy having taken you over, as if his power was wrapping around your nerves and guiding them to act. You didn’t know how you got here—you didn’t remember walking to him, and you certainly couldn’t recall kneeling as if he were your king. You didn’t feel in control of your faculties, much less your own limbs, and when your lips peeled open, your primal desires dripped from your tongue.

“Tell me…why are you here, mortal?” The male didn’t speak, not one word, but his voice was so loud in your mind that it made your ears ring. His eyes never left you, their intent obvious in the shift of color within their spreading iris.

“I want you to take me…” You said aloud, and no one in the room seemed the wiser. Your friend, lost to the crowd, was bleeding from major pulse points, being fed on by multiple patrons who had ensnared them, their body shaking in orgasmic death, clawing for release on the dance floor, the sound of the music drowning out the sound of their voice.

“You want to be mine? Hm?” His hand lifted, grazing the long earring in his left ear before trailing down over the layered lace choker he wore, the top a glinting silver that read “Appelle-Moi”, the necklaces beneath it falling down his chest, accentuating perfect skin as it dipped into a low shirt. The veining of his skin was like a sensual road map, and each time your eye caught sight of a new shade of blue, it trembled. Soaked.

“Take me.” You whimpered, your lips remaining open as if held by strong fingers.

“Obedient slave, I like that.” He nodded, and smiled, but his lips formed no shape, “…Call me ‘Master Hyungwon’. Say it.” He commanded, his mental tone deeper and quite a bit more even than before. You shook as you remained still, his lips peeling apart slowly, showing long fangs, making you quake with pleasure at just the sight. How had this happened to you? Kneeling and wet, you begged for him.

“Master…Hyungwon…” You croaked.

“Mmnn…Good…” He lifted his chin and raised an arm, pointing off towards a velvet covered doorway to the left of where his throne sat, “Go. Through there. Crawl.”

“Yes, Master Hyungwon.”

***************

Hand fisted in what he could grip of your hair, bare hips forced against your tear-streaked face, your throat taking his cock as deep as it would as he face-fucked you, your nose hitting soft pubic hair with each strike of that thickened head to the depths of your slender esophagus. The glide made your throat bulge visibly, but he only pushed deeper, breathing heavily through his nose, thrusting himself harshly, the welcoming muscles enveloping him, making your eyes roll back in your head and your gag reflex act up.

Snarling, he kept himself controlled, but his hips jerked back and forth several times vigorously before he pulled from your throat, saliva stringing from your mouth to his girth, the thick of the veined member bobbing in the dense air of the room. Staring down at you, he brought your face forward once more, rubbing the mushroomed, red head against the shape of your lips, swirling the glistening precum against your mouth.

Your lids fluttered open at the feeling of that cock against your lips, a submissive expression taking you as you stared up at him, opening your mouth slowly, your tongue slipping forward to press to the thick underbelly of that girth, the tip flicking, silently begging for more. Hyungwon licked the expansive curvatures of his lips, bringing the hand that had once been in your hair forward, gently petting over your crown, “…Mm…so hungry…” He finally spoke aloud, though it was no more than a whisper, and as he watched you, his lean abdominal muscles flexed visibly, making you feel weak. Your hands ran down your thighs and you moved your head forward, that thick tip popping into your mouth, and he gave a moment’s pause just to watch you before gripping the back of your skull a second time, slamming his cock into your mouth once more, arching to keep it deep, “A-ahh…suck…harder.”

You found yourself unable to defy him, even with the painful stretch of your throat nearly taking over your ability to breathe. His hips moving again, he would roll them, starting a slow, hard rhythm, grunting deeply from how you stimulated him. Picking up the pace, he snarled, gripping your hair a second time, this time harder than prior, fucking your throat as if he was a man starved. Your nails dug into your thighs and you tried to keep yourself stable, tears rolling over your cheekbones, the stretch nearly too much.

“A-ah, I’m close. Yeah, just like that.” He groaned lewdly, his head tipping back and body tensing hard as he chased his orgasm, “Fuck…” Jerking his hips forward a handful more times until he slammed himself deep and stilled, shooting thick, immense, cum into that throat, against your nasal passage and second gag reflex, the white fluid forced from your nose, your throat spasming around his throbbing girth, which pulsed hard against your tongue.

You closed your eyes tightly until he pulled back, popping free of your lips once more, cum flooding from your bottom lip, dripping from your chin and covering the bottom half of your face. You stared up at him, messy and broken in the most beautiful of ways, used by the vampire for his more carnal needs, you had somehow found yourself feeling far more alive. Staring up at him again, you knew that your pants were soaked from your own arousal, and you wiggled in your spot a bit, whining needily.

Dropping a hand down, he would tip your chin up, staring at you, his fingers slicking with his own seed, though he kept your face level, staring down at you, “Mm…You listen so well. I’ll keep you around for a while…use you for blood…and sex…” He bit his lip slowly, letting his teeth drag from the plush of his bottom tier, “…you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You couldn’t help but nod, the sound of the club outside the curtains still pulsing with music, the other patrons none the wiser that your face had just been fucked senseless. Drowned in his power, you wanted him, and you wouldn’t dare think of leaving his side, or disobeying, so you merely answered, “Yes, Master Hyungwon. I would very much like that.”

Dropping a hand, he would hook a finger in the choker you wore, pulling you up as if you were leashed. Staring into your eyes, he bore his teeth at you, and you could feel your blood pulse as if it were begging for him to drain you, and in many ways, it was. You knew he could so easily kill you—and one day, he just might. You swallowed hard, your throat moving against the finger that pressed against it. You had never felt more alive than with this undead King, never more full in heart and mind. He hissed through his teeth, hungry for more of you—every inch.

“Alright…then together we shall become entwined, deep…

…Into the night.”

Admin Death

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sweetheartjeongguk · 6 years

Text

twitchy witchy girl

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: kiki’s delivery service au, fluff, minor angst

rating: pg

warning(s): oc is mean to jimin but makes up for it in the end, slight public humiliation

word count: 3.3k+

summary: maybe human boys aren’t so bad after all.

a/n: here’s a late birthday gift to the loml park jimin

masterlist | studio ghibli masterlist

“He’s here to see you again.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Honey, stop slamming your head against the counter. You’re going to give yourself a concussion.”

“Sounds like a fun way to go.”

“He’s been waiting outside for quite some time.” The older woman hums, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other resting on top of your shoulder.

When you first arrived in the new beachside town, you had high hopes of being incredibly popular and staying in a fabulous mansion where you practically drown in luxury. Instead, you’re stuck living in a one-room apartment with your cat familiar, Mochi, and working for Lee Eunji and her husband as their very first delivery witch.

While most of the townspeople saw witches as nothing but troublemakers, Eunji saw a new opportunity.

“Tell him I’m dead.” You rub at your forehead once the throbbing became too much.

“He said he’d buy a Ouija board.”

“Tell him I moved away.”

“He can literally see you.” Eunji scoffs, waving a hand towards the front of the store.

With a disgruntled huff, you lift your head to follow Eunji’s line of sight.

Park Jimin stands with his hands tucked in his front pockets and an exasperated look on his face. He paces in front of the doorway, muttering something to himself while glancing into the store from the corner of his eye. When he notices your staring, he skids to a stop.

To this day, you have no clue why he’s interested in you. Sure, you’re a witch who can do all types of magic and fly on a broomstick which is enough to entertain the grumpiest of fiends. But one thing’s for sure – you and Park Jimin are two different people heading down two different paths. He’s the stereotypical rich boy who’s loved and admired by all simply for breathing air. Meanwhile, you’re the scary girl who can’t hold a decent conversation with another person without them sputtering something about magic and witchcraft.

“See?” Eunji chuckles at your obvious discomfort. “Can’t back out of this one, bud. Just go see what he wants.”

“Do you think you can bail me out of jail after I charm him into a cockroach and squish him with my foot?” You lean your cheek against the crook of your elbow in thought.

“How about…” Eunji brushes back the strands of hair that fall across your face. “…you not resort to murder and just talk to him like a normal human being?”

“You’re just saying that because you think he’s pretty. He’s cast a spell on you too.” You roll your eyes as Eunji motions for Jimin to come inside.

“You’re the only witch here, sweetheart.” Eunji winks before going to check on the freshly baked loaves of bread resting in the kitchen.

Jimin glows brighter than usual, his swept-back blond hair hidden underneath a red beret that makes him look like a stereotypical French boy. You snort to yourself when you take in the rest of his outfit – black-and-white striped shirt tucked into slim-fitting slacks with sleek black dress shoes.

Talk about Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes.

“Why, hello there, Mr. Park! What can we do for you today?” Eunji peeps her head through the kitchen doorway.

“Hi, Mrs. Lee.” Jimin replies smoothly, hands crossed behind his back in an innocent manner. “I was wondering if I could grab Y/N for a second.”

You could barely hold back your disgust when you notice Eunji melting under Jimin’s sweet façade. He has virtually everyone in town wrapped around his stupid chubby pinky finger, and you refuse to let yourself fall for one of his tricks.

“Y/N’s not here right now.” You grit your teeth. “Please leave a message after the fuc—"

“Y/N! Be nice.”

You push off of the stool you were sitting in behind the counter with a grunt. Your muscles are still sore from your delivery yesterday. Thankfully, there aren’t any major deliveries that afternoon so you’re free to stuff your face with as many as chocolate pastries as your heart desires.

Jimin draws in a small breath as you approach, mentally preparing his little speech he wrote on his way to the bakery that afternoon. He starts to open his mouth but only lets out a pathetic squeak as you roughly brush past him on your way to the pastry tray on the other side of the room.

“Y/N!” Eunji scolds before turning to Jimin with an apologetic pout. “I’m so sorry about her, she’s still trying to get used to everything.”

“Oh no, I understand!” Jimin chuckles awkwardly, a hand reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Anyways…Y/N, there’s s-something I wanted to ask you.”

You hum absentmindedly as you stuff a large creampuff into your mouth. You wonder if you could cast a spell to speed up his spiel so that you’ll still have time to catch the new episode of your favorite television show that’s scheduled to air in a half hour.

“My aviation club at school is hosting a party this Saturday.” Jimin announces, his voice wavering from subtle nerves. “I was wondering if you would like to come.”

You silently scold your heart for thumping a little harder than usual. Attending a party with Jimin as his…date. The word should have sent a disgusted shiver down your spine, but all you get is a flood of butterflies in your stomach.

For some reason, the thought of Jimin in a tuxedo didn’t seem so bad.

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” Eunji claps her hands excitedly. “It’ll be a great chance for you to make some friends, Y/N!”

“Oh yeah, definitely!” Jimin blurts out. “The rest of the guys are just dying to meet a witch. They’re really curious to learn more about how your broom works!”

Just like that, the mood dies. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t just die. It comes barreling towards the earth in a frenzy of fire and heat, striking the ground with tremendous force and destroying everything in its path.

He didn’t want you to go with him – he just wants to show you off like some circus act to his friends.

In that moment, you’re reminded of why you didn’t trust him. He might have Eunji and everyone else fooled, but you know better. Park Jimin’s just like everyone else, and you curse yourself for nearly falling into his trap.

Eunji watches inquisitively as you make your way towards the boy holding the invitation in both hands. There’s a tight grin that stretches across your face in a Cheshire Cat-like manner. The sight is quite unsettling to Eunji, but Jimin still beams at you as if he’s found the answers to his prayers.

“An invitation just for me?” You grab the invitation, ignoring the pleasant sensation of his soft skin brushing against yours.

“Yup! I saved one just for you.” Jimin nods excitedly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes! We’re really interested in learn—”

Rrrrip.

Jimin’s smile breaks as you tear the card in half. You barely hear Eunji gasping in the background as you shred the invitation into several jagged pieces. With a snap of your fingers, the slivers of paper burst into flames and float pathetically to the linoleum floor in a burnt crisp.

In an instant, your crazed smile transforms into a disgusted scowl. “Thanks for the invite, but I’d prefer company with people who don’t use me as their personal flying monkey.”

“Y/N!” Eunji hisses sharply.

You ignore her. “I know you think that you’re being cute and funny, but honestly, you’re just annoying and pathetic.”

Jimin stands frozen in the middle of the bakery, his bleary eyes fixated on the burnt strips scattered across the floor. Eunji rushes over from the kitchen to collect the mess with a broom and dustpan, glancing up when she notices your figure escape through the backdoor towards your living quarters.

“Jimin, I am so sorry about her.” Eunji sighs in exasperation. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

Jimin nods stiffly. “It’s n-no problem. I understand…”

Eunji opens her mouth at another attempt of a worthless apology, but Jimin’s already turning on his heel and heading out of the door, the tiniest sniffle betraying his quiet composure. Eunji watches in pity as Jimin disappears down the street with his shoulders slumped forward and his hands tucked into his front pockets once more.

He’s lucky that his route continues straight down the road. That way, Eunji doesn’t notice the tears dribbling down his cheeks reddened from embarrassment.

Ever since you burned his invitation in his face, Eunji hasn’t spoken to you. After you escaped the bakery and hid in your room to watch tv with Mochi, she barged in with the pile of ashes in her hands. She promptly tosses the charred papers on top of your nightstand, turning on her heel with a repulsed sneer.

“I’m disappointed in you. Honestly.”

Whether you like it or not, your chest twinges with guilt. Apart from being like a second mother to you, Eunji’s your best friend. When you faced the threat of living out on the streets with no food or money, she was the one who took you under her wing and offered you not only a job but a place to sleep and eat.

Now, it’s as if the sight of you makes her sick to her stomach. This time, you couldn’t even blame Park Jimin for it.

“If he just left me alone like I told him millions of times before, we wouldn’t be having this issue.”

“That may be,” Mochi purrs. “But you did embarrass him by burning his invitation in his face. The very same invitation he had kept specifically for you and only you.”

“So?” You grumble. “He only invited me because he wanted me to entertain his dumb friends.”

The gentle evening breeze soars in through your open window, chilling you to the bone. You slightly curse at yourself for not dressing in warmer pajamas, but your earnings for the month wouldn’t give you much. You’d borrow from Eunji, but 1) most of her wardrobe right now are maternity clothes and 2) she currently refuses to speak with you.

You let out a long whine, sounding exactly like your five-year-old self who cried when a wave toppled her over during a family vacation to the beach. “Do I have to?”

Mochi stares at you without a word.

“What if I fake my death?”

“Y/N…”

“Okay, fine…but if he doesn’t accept my apology, then can I fake my death?”

You feel silly.

Dressed in a white dress that molds tightly against your waist and puffs out at the skirt, you look and feel like a creampuff. After begging for her forgiveness for two hours straight, Eunji goes to work on preparing your party outfit. You pout about the centimeter-thick layer of foundation and powder, but Eunji shrugs off your complaints with an uncaring smirk. Perhaps it’s your punishment for not listening to her in the first place.

“It’s itchy.” You whine as the lace fabric continues to scratch against your skin.

Eunji holds in her laughter as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “If only you focused on your special magic training and not on hurting the feelings of people who like you, you could have learned how to cast an anti-itching spell.”

“Spells are hard…” You pout. “And he doesn’t like me, he just wants to pretend to get to know me so that he can tell people that he knows a witch. It’s exploitation at its finest.”

Eunji shakes her head in disbelief. “I’d think you witches would have some type of clairvoyance about you, but you’re completely dense.”

“I’m not a psychic.” You roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that no one in this town cares enough to educate themselves on witch culture.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a grumpy old troll, then maybe you could educate those people about witches.” Eunji pokes your nose with the end of a concealer brush as she finishes up the last touch-ups to your makeup.

“I shouldn’t have to.” You try to cross your arms, but you find it almost impossible considering how tight the chest of the dress was. “For once, I want someone to learn for themselves for once instead of using me for laughs and giggles.”

Eunji sighs in defeat. While the makeup and fancy dress did wonders to brighten your usual gloomy appearance, the frown marring your brow seems to remain there permanently.

“Honey…” Eunji says quietly. “I might not be a witch, but I know a thing or two about love. That boy definitely likes you for you, not because he wants to cross ‘Meet a witch’ off his bucket list.”

You continue to fiddle with the lace of the skirt, nearly ripping out a stray thread before laying your palms flat in your lap.

“I’ve never seen a boy so adamant about visiting a girl everyday even if he can just get one sentence in.” Eunji laughs softly. “Reminds me of my husband when we were first dating. He wouldn’t let me go for one second.”

You try to laugh, but you end up looking like you swallowed something inedible.

“I’m not saying that you need to date him or anything.” Eunji shakes her head. “I’m just saying that you should give Jimin a chance. You’d do good with some friends in this town, even if it’s just him.”

With that, Eunji holds out a clenched fist. You’re quick to grab whatever’s in her hands, but you instantly blanch when the substance fills your palms. While most of the invitation’s burnt to a crisp, one part of the paper remains semi-readable.

“Ms. Witch…”

A couple days ago, you’d be rolling your eyes and threatening to shove your broomstick where the sun won’t shine if Jimin had called you by that nickname. Now, all you could feel is a delightful warmth that spreads from your face down to your toes.

You’re screwed. You’re definitely screwed.

“You might want to head off now!” Eunji yells. You lift your head in surprise when you notice that she’s already escaped into the kitchen. “It looks like it’s going to rain! Better not be late!”

Desperately shoving the remnants of the invitation into your bra, you barely spare a coherent farewell as you dash into the street and kicking off the ground with your broomstick between your legs. As you head southwest towards the party, you force several deep breaths as you settle the anxiety that plagues your veins and kickstarts your heart into overdrive.

“This better work.” You whisper to yourself, ignoring the tiny droplets of water that begin to fall from the cluster of clouds above.

Your jaw drops at the vast size of the house. Classical music plays on repeat as the guests mingle around the dining room that looks as though it could fit an entire country and a half inside. You observe from the outside, completely unbothered as the rain soaks through your clothes and streaks your makeup. While you take a moment to admire the decorations strung across the walls and on the ceiling, your eyes wander in search of one individual in particular.

“Excuse me.” Someone coughs.

Behind you, a boy watches you with a dirty look, almost as if he wishes to say, “You obviously look like you don’t belong here”. While he isn’t far from the truth, you couldn’t help but mirror his unimpressed glare.

“I’m sorry, but this party is reserved for members only.” He retorts snootily. “I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Jokes on you, asshole, I have an invitation…” You answer quickly.

“Is that so?” He asks with a pretentious scoff. “Where is it?”

You choke on your words. You almost forgot that the evidence is literally shoved inside your cleavage. “U-Um…well the thing is…”

“Y/N?”

You, along with Mr. Stick-Stuck-High-Up-In-My-Ass, turn towards the new visitor. Your heart prickles with something foreign at the sight of Park Jimin in a suit and tie and a cute flower tucked inside his pocket.

“Hi…” You reply meekly, eyes fixated on the growing puddle on the edge of the sidewalk.

You completely miss the elated glint in Jimin’s eyes.

“She’s your guest, Park?” The boy asks warily, still viewing you as some kind of creature who escaped from the Black Lagoon.

You’ll be sure to add a little something extra to his hors d’oeuvres when you get the chance.

“Yeah, she’s my plus-one.” Jimin answers confidently. “I didn’t get to give her the invitation, but her name’s on the list if you want to check.”

The boy watches Jimin carefully before rolling his eyes. “I’ll be sure to check the list. Be sure that next time, everyone has an invite before they just show up unannounced and unwanted.”

Oh, how you wish you could use your magic for bad just once. Sure, you might face lifelong consequences that could inevitably affect your future…but would one time really make a difference?

“Sorry about him.” Jimin scratches the back of his neck. “Jihyun can be pretty uptight sometimes…”

“I can handle uptight just fine.” You shrug awkwardly. “T-Thanks though.”

Jimin clears his throat. “Yeah, of course! Anytime…”

There’s a brief moment of silence that you wish you could break without looking like a complete fool. Thankfully, Jimin takes the initiative from you.

“Y-You look really pretty.”

Thankfully, the foundation that Eunji caked onto your cheeks covers any sign of redness. Unfortunately, it did make you look like you took a dip into a giant frosting container.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You force yourself to playfully nudge at his shoulder. “You clean up rather nicely.”

“T-Thanks, my mom picked it out.” Jimin immediately clamps his mouth shut. You smile at the obvious embarrassment that floods his features and purses his lips into a demure pout.

It’s cute. In fact, it’s the type of cute that makes you want to drop everything and bring him back home to introduce to your entire family.

If only Eunji were here, she’d be getting a kick out of your emotional turmoil.

“Uh, a-anyways,” Jimin stammers nervously. “Why did you come tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, making Jimin quickly backpedal on his words.

“N-Not that you’re not allowed to come! You’re totally allowed to come, it’s totally fine by me. I j-just thought you didn’t want to…you know, after you…burned the invitation to a crisp.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me…”

Jimin pales as you dig inside to collect the blackened scraps, your tongue poking through the side of your mouth in concentration. He quickly diverts his attention towards the large oak tree hanging overhead, trying hard not to think about how your breasts are half a foot away from his face.

“There we are!”

Hesitantly craning his neck towards you once more, Jimin meets your upturned hands that cradle the destroyed scraps of the invitation. He cocks an eyebrow at this – what’s he supposed to do with that?

Jimin swallows his retort when suddenly, the papers swirl around almost like in a mini tornado, fusing back together. With a poof, the paper transforms from a charcoal black to its original eggshell white, complete with the original detailing and “Dear Ms. Witch…” at the very top of the card. As a special treat, you add an extra touch that Jimin can’t help but crack a smile at.

There’s a crude stick figure drawing of the two of you sitting side-by-side with a tiny pink heart floating above your heads. It may have been a trick of the light, but Jimin could swear that your little stick figure presses a kiss to stick figure Jimin’s cheek.

“Ta-da…” You smile shyly as you slip the paper into Jimin’s hand. “It’s corny, I know, but…”

“W-What changed your mind?” Jimin asks bashfully as he presses the card to his chest.

You shrug teasingly. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were. Also, it helps that you’re a little cute.”

“And the truth?”

“Eunji threatened to steal my broomstick and sell it in next week’s yard sale if I didn’t show up.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

#btsguild #thebtstown #kpopwonderlandtag #bts fanfiction #park jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #bts x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #reader insert #bts fluff #park jimin fluff #jimin fluff #bts angst #park jimin angst #jimin angst #studio ghibli au #kiki's delivery service au

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timbertumbr · 3 years

Note

Heya! How are you doing today? Remember when I said that my brain was working in 2G and I couldn't think of anything to ask? Well my brain is working again, soooo if your comfortable writing for the skelecousins can I get a BHC!Ash x reader that also loves plants? Thank uuuu

Gardening Buddies (BHC! Ash X Reader) Requested

PLATONIC COMPLIMENTS AND FLIRTING YEAH BOI!!!

“I heard a rumor today,” You say as you helped Ash pull weeds out of the ground.

“...Oh?”

“Yeah, I heard that I’m with the best Gardener in town,”

“. . . Why didn’t I see that coming?” You start giggling like a mad man.

“Come on Ash, you know I’m going to find some way to compliment you, directly or indirectly, I’ll find a way!” You teased, making the skeleton smile.

“Then maybe I should try finding a way to compliment you back,” You snort.

“Please, you can’t beat the ruler of compliments,” You joke, Ash grins at you.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe it is bone boy,” He grins and straightens himself.

“Then… if you were a flower in a gardening contest, you’d be given first place for beauty,” A slight blush floods over your cheeks as you grin.

“Ooo~ Starting off strong are we?” He merely grins.

“Alright, you asked for it. If you were in a magazine, you’d be on the cover of Garden’s Daily,” He narrowed his eye lights at you playfully.

“Oh, it’s on, little flower,”

“Hey! I’m not that short!”

And thus the compliment contest began while the two of you tended Ash’s garden. It stopped only when Poplar to 1. Check up on you guys and 2. Give you refreshments and he one-upped both of you in compliments, so you silently agreed to give him the win.

Want to Request? Please Read this before you do so.

#BHC #Bonely Hearts Club #BHC Ash #BHC Ash X Reader #X Reader #Horrortale #Horrortale Sans #Horrotale Sans X Reader #Requested

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we-are-all-of-legend-now · 6 years

Text

The Island Of Misfit Toys Playlist

YouTube Playlist

Part One: Songs Featured In The Text

Part Two: Songs That Remind Me Of The Text*

(*If a song matches a certain part in the text, it will be indicated, if not, it’s a general inspiration)

Ace Of Hearts - Zella Day

All Die Young - Smith Westerns

All The Stars - The Wailin’ Jennys

All The Way - Carolyne Neuman

All Through The Night - Sleeping At Last

Anchor - Mindy Gledhill

A Place You Like - Island

Arms - Christina Perri

Ashes Made Of Spades - The Rocket Summer

Away Frm U - Oberhofer

Barbies - P!nk

Beating Heart - Ellie Goulding

Believe In Dreams - Flyleaf

Be Still - The Fray

Blood And Bones - Kodaline

Brand New - Emilie Mover

Breathe - Rhodes

Breathless - Better Than Ezra

Bring Us The Sun - Ben Cocks

But Breathing - Defeater

Cancer - My Chemical Romance

Cast No Shadow - Oasis

Chain Breaker - Zach Williams

Come Out Of The Shade - The Perishers

Crash Into Me - Former Vandal

Daring To Be Different - Everlife

Diamond - Bandit Heart

Disaster Hearts - I Fight Dragons

Do Not Hang Your Head - Elizabeth & The Catapult

Don’t Go My Darlin’ - The National Parks

Dumb Stuff - Lany

Each Shallow Breath - Chase Coy

Everyone Falls - Beth Thornley

Fair Weather Friends - Johnny Cash

Fall For You - Leela James

Fallin’ For You - Colbie Caillat

Falling - Secrets In Stereo

Fall Into Me - Hey Monday

Fifteen - Foy Vance

Fingerprints - Eric Saade

Five - Sleeping At Last

Flying High - Jem

Forever - Matt Hires

Free Like You Make Me - Cary Brothers

Going To Be Wonderful - Tom Rosenthal

Good To Be Alive (Hallelujah) - Andy Grammer

Hallelujah - Gin Wigmore

Heart - The Pretty Reckless

Hear Your Heart - James Bay

Here I Am - Dolly Parton ft. Sia

He’s My Son - Mark Schultz

Hide Away - Hilary Duff

House Of Love - Catherine MacLellan

Hugging You - Tom Rosenthal

I Dare You - The XX

I Do Adore - Mindy Gledhill

I’ll Never Go Away - Erin McCarley ft. Gabe Dixon

I Still Breathe - Apollo Drive

It Keeps You Runnin’ - The Doobie Brothers

Jeanette - Chase Coy

Join The Club - Bring Me The Horizon

Keeping Me Alive - The Afters

Kind - Eisley

Lay It On Me - Vance Joy

Leaving Song - Mary Chapin Carpenter

Left To Dry - Shaimus

Let It Out - Tom Rosenthal

Let’s Run Away - Haley Reinhart

Light Me Up - Ingrid Michaelson

Live Forever - Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors

Long Time Coming - Oliver James

Look After You - Aron Wright

Look Through My Eyes - Everlife

Love Alone - Thriving Ivory

Love Is Stronger Than Death - The The

Love Won’t Sleep - Lostboycrow

Lucky - Kat Edmonson

Meant - Zach Winters

Medicine - The 1975

Million Dollar Secret - Lucius

My Aim Is You - Nikola Sarcevic

My Best Friend - Tim McGraw

My Heart - The Perishers

Never Let This Go - Paramore

Night Go Slow - Catey Shaw

Nobody Knows - Lostboycrow

No One’s Aware - Jack Savoretti

No Such Thing As Time - Elenowen

Only One - Smith Westerns

Our First Kiss - Billy Gilman

Out Of The Blue - Vertical Horizon

Parallel Lines - Future Reference ft. Aron Wright

Pluto - Sleeping At Last

Promise Keeper - Breaking Point

Raindrops - Maggie Eckford

Raining - Of Verona

Rare - Ruth B

Salt Skin - Ellie Goulding

Saved My Life - Fee Waybill

Save You - Simple Plan

Say Something - A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera

Send Me All Your Angels - Kris Allen

Side By Side - Sleeping At Last

Six - Sleeping At Last

Sleeping World - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Soda - Nothing But Thieves

Some Kind Of Home - Thriving Ivory

Someone To Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Soon Goodbye, Now Love - Tom Rosenthal

Sorrowing Man - City & Colour

St. Jude - Florence + The Machine

Stone Of Suffering - Get Set Go

Summer - Benjamin Francis Leftwich

Surrender - Former Vandal ft. Tabi

Take These Things To Heart - Kyler England

Take Your Guess - Tom Rosenthal

Take Your Time - Cary Brothers

Teenage Sonata - Sam Cooke

Temptation - Moby

The One You Love - Passenger ft. Kate Miller-Heidke

The Projectionist - Sleeping At Last

There Is A Dark Place - Tom Rosenthal

The Stars Shine In The Sky Tonight - Eels

Thief - Our Lady Peace

Timebomb - Delta Spirit

Too Young To Feel This Old - You Me At Six

To The Grave - Bea Miller

Traveler - Lostboycrow

Twenty Twelve - Matt Maeson

Two - Sleeping At Last

Wait For You - James Lindsay

We Could Happen - AJ Rafael

We Found Each Other In The Dark - City & Colour

We Gotta Get Out Of This Place - Denmark + Winter

What I Needed - Erin McCarley

Whenever You Need - Jamestown Story

When I Go - Over The Rhine

Where I Can’t Follow - Amy Kuney

Wicked Game - Gemma Hayes

Wild Ones - You Me At Six

Wild Place - Glass Pear

Wish That You Were Here - Florence + The Machine

Without A Fight - Jame Floyd

Without You - AJ Rafael

Wonder - Lauren Aquilina

Won’t Stop Running - A Great Big World

You Ain’t Alone - Alabama Shakes

You And Me - Rosie Thomas

You And Your Heart - We The Lion

You Only Need You - Tom Rosenthal

You’re The One For Me - Delta Rae

You Will Find Me - Andrew Ripp

Part Three: Reader Recommendations

Agape - Bear’s Den

Castor And Pollux - Kathryn Calder

Diamonds - Ben Howard

Eastside - Benny Blanco ft. Halsey/Khalid

I’m Waiting Here - David Lynch ft. Lykke Li

Is There Somewhere - Halsey

Joyful - X Ambassadors

My Boy - Car Seat Headrest

Perfect - Ed Sheeran

The Funeral - Band Of Horses

Tokyo Narita - Halsey ft. Lido

With You - Tyler Shaw

You Are My Sister - Antony And The Johnsons

You Might Be The One - Greyson Chance

#jonnor #the fosters #jude adams foster #connor stevens #the island of misfit toys #playlist #my fanfition #the last letter #links

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gossamie · 6 years

Text

I Dare You

― summary: Competition drives you and Jimin; it’s what has kept you such close friends for as long as you can remember. But when Jimin gives you one unbelievable dare, it may be the one competition you lose.

― pairing: park jimin x reader

― genre: fluff

― word count: 1,455

― warnings: (a lil bit of) swearing, mentions of alcohol, naughty dancing

― notes: i was inspired to write this drabble when i heard the first lyrics of dua lipa’s new song, one kiss. i’m also preparing to write something very angsty soon, so i wanted to fluff myself up in preparation. i hope you enjoy!

“One kiss is all it takes / Fallin’ in love with me” - Dua Lipa, One Kiss

“I dare you to grind against that girl’s boyfriend.”

“Deal.”

You eyed Jimin with a sly gaze, setting your drink down and moving from your seat at the counter towards the man your friend pointed to. As you walked past them, the throng of people enveloped you, reacting to your presence as if you were a pebble moving upstream. The loud throbs of music stifled the conversations of the partygoers around you and the sound of your own thoughts. Hues of crimson and violet illuminated the shifting bodies, only adding to the mysterious and seductive aura of the club.

Being at this nightclub definitely set you outside of your comfort zone. You would much rather be curled up on your sofa than at this never-ending party. Yet, you could never say no to Jimin— he always convinced you with his motto, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing”— and maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or his reassuring presence, but you felt strangely at ease.

As the distance between you and your target grew smaller, you began to act as if you were in a drunken stupor. You tousled your hair and stumbled about, paying no mind to the judgemental stares of those who surrounded you. With a gleeful cry and an inward “Sorry”, you pushed the woman away and moved against the clueless man in a clumsy yet sinful way. When you looked back towards the bar, you could see Jimin’s head thrown back in laughter and it took all of your willpower to contain yours.

“Excuse me?” the woman cried. The fact that you could hear her screech over the pounding music was a testament to how loud her voice was. “Just what do you think you’re doing? Some people are trying to have a fun night!”

You responded by making your movements even more exaggerated, seemingly absorbed in your intoxicated state.

Incredulous, the woman shifted her attention to her boyfriend. “And you— are you enjoying this? Get your hands off of her hips, you asshole!”

That was your cue to leave.

Feigning sudden illness, you dashed away from the screaming woman and her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. You slipped back into your seat at the bar, where you and Jimin subsequently doubled over in laughter.

“Y/N, I think you just ruined someone’s relationship,” Jimin exclaimed in between exasperated laughs.

“Hey, that’s not my fault! You gave me the dare, not the other way around,” you replied, sipping from your glass. “Plus, he deserved it. The guy was a total creep.”

“Agreed.” Jimin motioned for the bartender. “That performance deserves a drink. Let me guess— a vodka soda with a touch of lime?”

“You know me so well.”

“What are friends for?”

A smile grew on your lips as Jimin ordered your drink. To say that you have been best friends with Jimin all your life would not be an exaggeration. The two of you were born at the same hospital mere days apart from each other, the connection between you and Jimin stronger than that of twins; your mother often told you when you cried, Jimin cried, and vice versa. Since then, you and Jimin were inseparable. You grew up in the same neighborhood, saw each other’s awkward middle school phases, survived high school and college together— whatever you did, Jimin was there to experience it with you.

To pinpoint exactly one reason as to why you and Jimin got along so well would be impossible, for the bond between you and Jimin was inexplicable; you just clicked. You were sure, though, that the competitive nature you shared in common with Jimin made every memory so much more adventurous and your friendship so much more close. It has been his lifelong goal to ruin your streak, but in the twenty-two years that you have known Jimin, not once have you rejected one of his dares, no matter how ridiculous the challenge may be, and you intended to keep winning.

So it came as no surprise to Jimin when you dared him to let people take body shots off of him, and it came as no surprise to you when he lifted up his shirt, laid down on the bar counter, and announced that he was giving out free shots.

Jimin’s free spirit and fearlessness was something that still surprised you every day. You loved the way he viewed obstacles as new adventures; nothing was impossible in his mind. He always pushed you to place yourself in uncomfortable situations, and although it terrified you, there was no longer a dull moment in your life. For him, you would always be thankful.

Twenty body shots and endless fits of laughter later, Jimin stood in front of you and, with a dramatic bow, asked, “May I have this dance?”

“I would love to,” you responded, taking his hand as he led to you the dance floor.

The dancing bodies engulfed you once more, the deafening music and the vivid glow of the lights above drowning you in a sea of ruby and fuschia. You paid no mind to the inebriated atmosphere of the club, however, for you and Jimin were in your own little world, challenging each other in an impromptu dance battle. You danced until your feet began to ache and your muscles were telling you to take a break, but something in the air made the moment feel magical and you wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible.

“Y/N,” Jimin called suddenly, the volume of his voice apparently amplified. “Are you up for a dare?”

“Always. What is it?”

“I dare you to kiss me and not fall in love.”

Surprise formed your lips into a small “O”. It took you a moment to form a sentence. “Jimin, is that you or the alcohol talking?”

“Trust me, Sober Jimin would say the exact same thing.”

You attempted to laugh off the shock you felt. “You’re being ridiculous. That has to be the craziest dare you’ve ever given me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe my ears. Do I hear L/N Y/N backing down from a dare?”

“Never. Come here,” you scoffed, your own boldness shocking you.

His lips began to close the distance between him and you, not a hint of hesitation interrupting his movement. You searched Jimin for that familiar glint in his eyes but became startled when you failed to find a trace of mischief in those chestnut-colored orbs. His eyes did not seem muddled from his intoxication; in fact, they looked clearer than if he were to be sober. His gaze bore into your soul, as if he was trying to tell you a secret purely through eye contact. You felt as if you were looking at a side of Jimin that was completely foreign to you and it both excited and frightened you.

Then, he kissed you.

The moment your lips locked, the music became silent and the world around you ceased to exist. You swore you heard Jimin sigh in relief, and suddenly you were struck with the realization that this moment was something he had been longing to do for twenty-two years. His kiss was delicate, fragile, as if he feared that you would be scared off by any sudden movement. Gently, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer until your body was flush against his. The inklings of passion that Jimin had tried to suppress abruptly broke free. His lips began to work against yours fervently, wildly, because now that he knew you were not afraid he was hungry to taste more of you. To your surprise, you felt your grip on his arms tighten, as if your conscious was keeping him from breaking the kiss.

The kiss did not last more than thirty seconds, but you wanted it to last forever.

When he finally pulled away, Jimin looked different.

The shades of scarlet and amethyst painting the air made his ash-blonde tresses look a little more prominent, his smile a little more dazzling. His face, once plump and endearing, now looked elegant and striking, as if his bone structure was carved from marble. Jimin’s gaze was clouded by a haze and you could sense that he began to view you differently, too. Discovering these new details in his appearance awakened something in you, something so powerful that it made your heart beat faster and your mind sent spiraling.

All at once, you wanted to be with Jimin for the rest of your life.

“I think I just won,” Jimin whispered, shattering the deafening silence. It did not sound like the competition mattered to him anymore.

“I dare you to kiss me again.”

“Deal.”

#bts au #bts fluff #bts drabble #bts one shot #jimin fluff #jimin drabble #jimin x reader #jimin au #park jimin fluff

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vixxscifiwritings · 6 years

Text

your sins in weights of diamonds (4/4)

Title - Your sins in weights of diamonds

Word Count - 12,000+

Rating - 13+

Warnings - Violence, Implications of sex, Minor foul language

Characters - Jaehwan, Gender Neutral Reader, VIXX Ensemble + Sejeong (Gugudan)

Pairings - Jaehwan x Reader, ninja!Hakyeon x Reader

Author’s Note - Written for the Wind Of Starlight Spring 2018 challenge

Summary - Nothing will stop you from relentlessly pursuing the famous thief Night Fox. However, when the Night Fox threatens to steal the mafia’s most prized possession, you get pulled into a dangerous game

Additional notes at the end

Find all parts here

Part 4

Glen Milli’s is unusually crowded for a Tuesday night. It has been a long day with Hakyeon grilling every last bit of information out of you. You need whiskey. Or something stronger if you can afford it.

Out of habit, you look around for Jaehwan. Lee Jaehwan is the root cause of the storm of thoughts in your head. You think back to the time you both slept together in the art gallery and the guilt weighs heavily on your heart.

Hakyeon and you aren't an exclusive couple. But this feels like cheating. You wonder what in the world is wrong with you and how you could be seduced so easily by someone you've only know for some time.

Jaehwan is dangerous. And perhaps it is this danger that makes him alluring. A change from the long boring nights spent in the Red Light district. You mentally chastise yourself. You should be too old to fall for this.

You expect to see him performing on stage but he isn't there right now. You accept the glass of whiskey and soda that you didn't remember ordering.

“You looked like you could use a drink” a familiar voice says. You still. You could recognise the soft voice of Jung Taekwoon anywhere.

“How did you know?” you manage, twirling the glass around. There is no way in hell that you are drinking that whiskey now. Which is such a shame because you can already tell it is high quality from the amber glow of the liquid.

“Well, even if you didn’t, you will need one after this meeting” Taekwoon says smoothly.

“I know you know that I am a cop. Killing me will be a messy affair” you warn.

“You’ve already made a mess that you’re not worth” Taekwoon reminds you.

“What do you want?” You ask, knowing this isn’t the time for games. Taekwoon knows of your involvement with Jaehwan and isn’t happy about it.

“Normally I would kill you for all the trouble caused but someone who holds you in high regards is close to me too. And for their sake I am sparing your life” Taekwoon starts. “Provided you stay away from Jaehwan and the entire Night Fox affair.”

“What are you going to do to him?” you ask. There is a heavy feeling in your chest and your gut is flashing red warning signs at your brain.

“Wrong question to ask. Strike one” Taekwoon says, taking a long sip from his own glass.

“Are you going to kill him?” you ask, panic settling in.

“Strike two” Taekwoon replies evenly.

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask, dreading the response.

Taekwoon smiles at you before picking up your glass of whiskey. “No” he says. “Not if you leave and never return or speak of this again.”

“Excuse me” you say getting up. You turn, making it look like you are headed to the exit. You are a dead person now. The Panthers don’t leave evidence behind.

In hindsight, it must be this revelation that prompts you to throw caution to the air and head to the back of the club instead. You break into a run, headed to the green room instead.

“Hey!” a bouncer shouts as you run past him. “You can’t be here!”

“I am a cop and I have a warrant for this place!” you scream. This kick starts a commotion when the words cop and warrant go around. The bouncers are engaged in controlling the situation and you slip past them to the green room where Jaehwan usually waits before performing.

“He figured you would come” a voice says.

“Wonshik” you say, stopping dead in your tracks when you see him holding a gun to Jaehwan’s head. Both men sport bruises and Jaehwan’s lips are caked in blood.

“Told you he was an interesting man” Jaehwan jokes, his voice hoarse.

“You’re not supposed to be here” Wonshik says, pushing the pistol to Jaehwan’s head. “You were never supposed to be here. You should have let the case go when it shifted to the Bureau.”

“You warned me and I didn’t listen. This is my fault. Let Jaehwan go” you say. Getting out alive is the first priority now. Figuring out how, when and why Wonshik joined the Panthers is second.

“I asked Taekwoon to let you live. But you just wasted that chance. I can’t get you anymore” Wonshik explains. “So I need you to leave if you value your life.”

“Listen to the man” Jaehwan adds. Wonshik regards him with a poker look before turning back to you.

“Let me talk. I can help” Jaehwan says to Wonshik in a whisper. Your jaw sets. You’re not going to let Jaehwan die. You can’t let Wonshik commit murder.

“You have a minute” Wonshik says letting go of them. Jaehwan nods, walking over to you as fast as he can.

“I’m sorry I got you into this” he says, cupping your face with his hands. You’ve never really appreciated his hands and how gentle and firm they can be.

“The panther comes for the original sin” Jaehwan whispers and all of a sudden there is a sharp pain in your neck. Your knees give way and your world goes to black.

“Let’s go” is the last thing you hear, before your sense something pass over your body on the floor.

-x-

It takes a while for you to come to your senses. Your neck throbs and the room is black but thankfully no one has bothered tying you up.

‘The panther comes for the original sin’ is a phrase that keeps going through your head. You can’t seem to remember where you’ve heard it but it feels oddly familiar for some reason.

The Sin Of Seoul.

You sit up straight and immediately regret it as disorientation forces you back to the ground. Your brain has connected the dots faster than you anticipated. Something big is about to go down if the Panthers are headed over to steal the Sin of Seoul for themselves.

It’s the rest of it that you have trouble wrapping your head around. How and why is Wonshik with the Panthers? Why exactly do they want to kill Jaehwan? The mafia have a blood treaty stating that they can’t kill without good cause. What did Jaehwan do?

You hold your head. You have no way of knowing what else Jaehwan has done. Maybe the Panthers want him for something other than his involvement with you. But what else do the Panthers and Serpents have in common?

The Sin of Seoul.

A mutual hatred for each other.

And Jaehwan caught in the crossfire.

This is way above your head. You can’t do this alone. But there is no way you can call Hakyeon. That shit storm won’t even compare to whatever is going on now. But if you sit back and do nothing, you have Jaehwan’s blood on your hands.

You pull out your phone and stare at Hakyeon’s number. You type something but change your mind.

-x-

It is raining again and you are soaked to the bone when you reach the art gallery. The southern district roads are a mess. There is a fire and you can hear 119 redirect fire trucks and ambulance to the place you are headed. As a consequence, the traffic is jammed and you are barely making any progress.

Two drivers in front of you get down and decide to fight in the middle of the street. Apparently one has accidentally crashed into the other one due to the other car stopping without warning. You groan, knowing there is no way out of it.

You abandon the car on the side and decide to leg the last two miles. The art gallery that Jaehwan took you to is only four blocks down and your heart races faster than your legs move. A fire truck turns into the road you were headed into and you gulp, picking up pace again when the adrenaline kicks in.

To your relief, it isn’t the tall building that’s caught on fire but a small deli next to it. A gas leak leading to an explosion. The paramedics are rushing people in and out and the firemen are busy trying to put the fire out. You look around, noticing that the water supply is connected to the security division of the art gallery.

It’s an easy way in. You drop your phone in your coat pocket and tie the button up, straightening up and heading to the doors. No one will notice you if you just walk through the doors and disappear in the chaos. You take deep breaths to get your breathing under control.

It's ten steps. A fireman yells at you to move out of the way as he pulls on the large hose and redirects the group to the other side of the building. Five steps. You avoid tripping over the hose and quietly move in and out of the medics who are carrying a man injured in the fire. Three. Two. One. And you're in.

You recognise the desk you come across. It's the long hallway. There are people milling about in the hallway, looking confused and hesitant about leaving. The fire alarm is blaring but no one makes a move, knowing they are safe since the fire engines are here and there is no smoke.

“Hey you! Who are you and what are you doing here?” someone asks you sternly.

“They are with me” someone says authoritatively before you have a chance to speak. “And helping me evacuate the building. You should be leaving too Sir.”

You turn around to see a fireman. He's tall and handsome despite the soot and ash covering his sweaty face. You almost snort when you think about how the hot fireman stereotype probably exists due to this man.

“Look. There is no reason to evacuate. Everything is under control” the man reasons.

“The fire department can be the judge of that. For now Sir, I request you to comply and leave the building as quickly as you can” the fireman insists.

“It's for the best” you insist. The man looks at the two of you suspiciously before nodding to himself. He starts gathering people and asking them to evacuate. The fireman nods and makes his way to the back as the people start to move out.

You find yourself being pulled along with him as he presses the elevator buttons and walks into the lift.

“What kind of fireman uses an elevator during a fire alarm?” you ask reaching for the gun strapped to the holster around your waist.

“I'm not a fireman and you know it” the fireman says, taking off his coat and helmet. He's wearing an expensive dark blue shirt and well tailored grey pants. His waist is tiny but his shoulders are well built and he looks like he could be a model. His face supports your hypothesis, looking much better after the fake ash has been wiped off.

“Why the elaborate ruse?” you ask. You let up the security trigger with the gun still in the holster. You trust no one and aren't about to start now. If anything, the revelation about Wonshik has you trusting people less.

“I'm Jaehwan’s… I am just someone who needs Jaehwan alive” the fireman… no the tall model confesses.

“Are you his lover?” you ask. The hint of jealousy in your words surprises you but you don't let it show on your face. It would make sense wouldn't it? Jaehwan’s a charming man who has the art of seduction down. And the tall stranger is the type of artwork that would complement his pretty face.

The thrill of dating a mysterious enigma would be better than a forbidden romance between a policeman and the mafia. Not that there was a romance to speak of. You have no reason to be possessive.

“Oh god no. But from your words, it sounds like you would love to be it” he grins.

“I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it if you continue making stupid suggestions” you say wryly. “I am invested in keeping him alive too. That's why I am here.”

“You get emotionally invested pretty easily” the stranger noted.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, taking the gun out of your coat.

“You chased after me for two years. Or is it more? I can't quite remember. Time passes by quickly when you live the good crime life” he admits.

“The Night Fox” you say, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Of course. How else would Jaehwan have his authentic calling card? Lee Jinsil would never have let him take the original.

“You're as smart as he says you were” the Night Fox praised. “Well not very since you walked into the Serpent’s nest itself to rescue your damsel in distress. But quick on the uptake.”

“How do you and Jaehwan know each other?” you ask, raising and pointing the gun at him.

“Hold your questions. We have our dear beloved to rescue” the Night Fox says, turning the barrel to point to the lift door with a gentle nudge. He pulls out a gun of his own from an ankle holster and enters the security code.

You hold the gun at the door, keeping a sharp eye on your companion. The Night Fox, here in flesh. You can't tell if he is lying or not but you believe him. And this encounter is disorienting. You miss whiskey the most at the moment. Perhaps you should have listened to Hakyeon and stayed out of this entire mess.

The door opens and you hear the sound of safety triggers being pulled down. The Night Fox steps out with his gun pointing to someone just across the room and out of the view. You follow and the dead bodies of Lee Jinsil and his bodyguards lying on the floor come into the view.

Standing a few feet away from the body is Jung Taekwoon. He holds one gun to Jaehwan’s head, watching him, while holding a second to the Night Fox who has entered the room.

The Night Fox’s gun isn't pointed at Jung Taekwoon but instead at Wonshik who is to his left. He holds the black velvet box in his hand and was probably examining the necklace before you came in. You keep your gun aimed at Jung Taekwoon.

“Shooting wouldn't be a wise idea” Wonshik says, stepping closer to Taekwoon.

“It doesn't have to come down to that” the Night Fox says. “The deal was that we take down the Serpents and you give us the diamonds and we leave with them alive.”

“I only said I would give you the diamonds” Taekwoon says smoothly. He nods at Wonshik who tosses Jaehwan the box.

“But there was no reason to let us live afterwards” Jaehwan concludes. He struggles to stand up but looks Jung Taekwoon right in the eye as he says it.

“You knew this all along. So why bring your pet cop along?” Taekwoon asks.

“Killing a cop would be a messy affair. After all, you can't seduce them all to your side, can you?” Jaehwan asks. The Night Fox throws him his gun and in a flash Jaehwan is behind you, holding the gun to your head while your own is now with the Night Fox. Taekwoon tosses a gun at Wonshik who aims it at the Night Fox while he aims for you.

“Have you considered that I might not care and kill them anyways?” Taekwoon asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “What's another dead body in a pile of so many?”

“Not when there are more on the way. Did you think that my pet would be stupid enough to come here without backup on the way?” Jaehwan asks, kissing you on your earlobe. You bite your lip and your heart drops as you think of the message you typed to Hakyeon asking for help but left in the drafts.

"Biting your lips" Wonshik says, looking at you. "That was always your tell. There is no backup on the way. You were stupid enough to come here all alone."

“I could kill you both right now and when the cops arrive they will discover that I took down two of the most feared mob bosses in the city. They would felicitate me instead of arresting me” Jaehwan speaks up, sparing you from acknowledging or denying that statement.

“It's cute that you think either of the three of you will make it out alive” Taekwoon laughs. He reloads his gun by resetting the cartridge and shoots it. You scream as Jaehwan pulls the two of you down to the ground.

The Night Fox shoots as well, hitting Wonshik in his chest. Taekwoon growls and shoots at him as well, missing him by a hair as he moves.

“Hongbin!” Jaehwan exclaims, abandoning you and running to the Night Fox. You pull your phone out, sending Hakyeon that SOS and hitting the lock button four times to activate the notification app that Sanghyuk tracks. You scramble to your feet and shoot at the roof in an order to get control of the situation.

“Nobody move or I will make sure that none of you can” you threaten. Your voice is shaky and your ankle pains. You're very sure it has been injured in the chaos.

“I have backup on the way and none of you will escape alive if you don't cooperate” you add.

“There's four of us against just you. Don't be stupid” Jaehwan warns.

“I don't care. And fuck the Miranda rights. I need answers” you growl. “So one of you start talking immediately.”

Wonshik slumps against Taekwoon and you start. He doesn't look so good. Your resolve waivers but you can't drop your stance.

“You can't win this fight. Let us go so that I can get Wonshik to a hospital. Or he will die” Taekwoon tells you.

“I can't do that” you reply, your heart growing heavy. Betrayal or not, if Wonshik dies on your watch then it will forever be on your conscience. And there is a very real chance that he might, looking at the growing pool of blood on the floor.

“Let them go pet” Jaehwan says, pushing the barrel of your gun away. It's a thing the two of them tend to do. Jaehwan and The Night Fox. Hongbin. Now you have a name to match the face.

You know a lot more now than you had expected. You begin to piece the timeline of events together. Jung Taekwoon hires the Night Fox to threaten the Serpents to steal the Sin Of Seoul and places Jaehwan as an inside man. Jaehwan seduces Lee Jinsil and acquires the information needed to make his way in.

All of it is a cover for his actual goal. Destroying the rival gang so that the Panthers can rule the city. And of course it would be less messy than starting an outright civil war with the other gang.

You would be impressed if your life wouldn't be on the line. And as it stands, you aren't very impressed with the situation.

You sigh and jab the down button for the elevator.

“All three of you are living on borrowed time” Taekwoon promises as he picks up Wonshik’s body. The three of you watch till the elevator closes and heads down.

“You were always a sucker for damsels in distress” Jaehwan chuckles. You school your expression and point your gun at him again.

“I'm not done with the two of you. Once the cops get here, both of you are going to jail for your crimes. And don't worry. Jung Taekwoon will join you there” you say.

“You underestimate him” Jaehwan laughs. “You don’t know how dangerous he really is.”

“Part of the reason you are here really. I needed leverage to get out alive. He would have killed both of us. But luckily you were here and his lover came along as well to protect you. Injuring Wonshik was never the plan but it worked in our favour” Jaehwan explained. “Nice shooting by the way, dear brother.”

Brother. The word makes your blood boil. The Night Fox was Jaehwan’s brother. After all things said and done, you feel like an idiot.

“Don't look so surprised. So many people say we look alike” Hongbin jokes at your expression.

“You knew all along. You knew I was chasing after your own brother” you accuse, your gun lowering.

“Wasn't it obvious? It was the easiest way of getting you involved” Jaehwan accepts. You know that it is true. Jaehwan approached you with the proposition of catching the Night Fox and kept you involved on the pretext of it. You hadn’t expected to tumble into a complex web of lies and betrayal while you were at it. But what else was expected while dealing with the mafia? You look at the bodies of the Serpent members lying around. Murder is a small cost to pay in this business. And you are about to become collateral damage.

“Before you ask, it also means that we knew of Taekwoon and Wonshik’s love affair. They're quite a pair” Hongbin says, picking up the forgotten necklace box.The love affair is news to you. How long has it been since Wonshik has been together with Taekwoon? Is this why he was so surprised to find him in the restaurant on the night of the undercover operation? Was Wonshik originally a Panther? Or did he fall in love with Jung Taekwoon later? How and why?

The questions keep messing with your head. Every answer, ever explanation only leads to more. You no longer know what is right and what is wrong.

“Which is exactly why all three of us are now marked for dead. Nothing will save us from Taekwoon’s wrath” Jaehwan says, his tone turning serious.

“Not if we escape now. We're wasting valuable time” Hongbin grumbles.

“You're not escaping on my watch” you say angrily. Your gun is loaded and aim steady. There is a tell tale siren and the rumble of a helicopter landing on the roof. Your backup is here. Hakyeon is coming to help.

“You could come with us love” Jaehwan offers.

“You can't be serious” Hongbin protests.

“But I am. A life for a life. We're alive right now thanks to you distracting Taekwoon. It's only fair. And I did enjoy our night together pet” Jaehwan winks.

You don't think before lunging for him with your own hands. You feel like such a fool. A toy for his amusement. That's all you are to him. To be used and discarded at will. You can't believe that you effectively disobeyed Hakyeon for this vile disgusting piece of shit.

Jaehwan puts up a good fight but overpowers you easily. He pins you down to the ground, straddling you and using his body weight to hold you down. One hand holding you down by the shoulder and the other at your neck.

“I guess your answer is no” Jaehwan says.

“You think?” you spit out.

“Goodbye pet” Jaehwan says lovingly before putting his hand at your neck. In a strong sense of deja vu and stronger sensation of pain, your world fades to black again.

You know that when you wake up, both of them will be gone and out of your grasp forever.

-The End-

A/N - If the reader would like so, I want to make it a three part series. After the reveal, please let me know if you would like me to continue it!

#wos spring 18 #mafia au

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peterpcrkcr · 7 years

Text

Fire Starter Pt 1. | A Peter Parker Imagine

Peter Parker x Reader Words: 1,905 Summery: Peter Parker inadvertently turns you into a superhuman. **It is also senior year of High School.

This was it, the moment that had taken weeks to build up enough courage for. You walked right down the hallway, waited for the Robotics Club to pass by with all of their robotic children, to stand right behind the open locker door. Once it shut you were met with the big brown eyes of Peter Parker. He hadn't changed much since freshman year. He had merely grown taller, and a little more defined in the muscular area, though that happened around sophomore year anyway... You smiled when he met your gaze; your eyes beaming, nerves tensing.

"Hi Peter...!" You kept your cool as well as you could, glanced behind him to see one of your friends giving you the thumbs up. You tucked your hair behind you ear, leaned on the lockers nonchalantly.

"Oh, hey (y/n)." He gave you a very unsubtle once over and it made a little bit of heat touch onto your cheeks. "I like your sweatshirt."

"Thank you! I like your socks. You've always had a cute choice in socks... but that's not why I'm here standing in front of you this afternoon." You settled your smile into a soft grin.

"So why are you here?" He asked with his own gentle grin. He fully shut his locker and leaned on it, his head tilting toward yours presumably unknowingly. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked up to him through your eyelashes. His eyes widened with a feeling that was different from the one you were expecting. Peter started to part his lips to speak, but you started to speak instead.

"Would you want to go on a d-" but before you could finish your sentence the fire alarm started blaring from above and smoke started to fill the hallway. Peter put one hand on your shoulder and nearly touched his forehead to yours. He desperately wanted you to pay attention to what he had to say. "What's-"

"You have to run." His voice was even and decisive. His eyes were stern and his grip on you was firm. You nodded once and then turned away from him toward the clear end of the hall. The other kids that's been loitering around had also scattered, but when you turned to find Peter, he was no where to be seen.

"Peter?" You stopped dead in your tracks at the start of the hallway that lead to an exit. You could see the light of outside, hear the yelling voices and the hint of a siren behind them. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Behind you, spare students ran toward the exit you were so very near. You opened your eyes as they passed, but none of them were Peter. You were thankful that they had all made it out, but where was Peter Parker, and why hadn't the sprinkler system turned on already?

A few fellow students tried to drag you with them outside of the door. You looked them in the eyes and convinced them with a glare that you would not leave the building without Peter, and out of the fear of the oncoming heat of the flames, they let you stay. This was the inciting incident. You turned around in an instant and sprinted back down the hall and toward the fire.

Into the haze of the smoke, you started coughing. Your eyes started to water, your lungs started to burn just a little bit. Nothing was stopping the heart in your chest from letting the fire into your veins as you screamed Peter's name to the boiling rows of lockers. You could see the fire had originated from the wood shop where the robotics club held their meetings, but that didn't explain how the school caught on fire. How the air seemed to be the fuel.

"PETER!" You screamed, but heard no sound other than the roar of the flames in return. They ate up everything in sight. They licked the posters off of the walls and seduced the lockers into becoming a puddle of metal and ash onto the ground around you. You had no time to react, when you saw the old familiar flash of blue and red swing through the hallway. You tried to cry out but your throat was so dry you could hardly wet your tongue. He hadn't seen you.

"SPIDER-MAN!!" You worked up all of your strength to tear the syllables through your throat. Your skin felt as though it was melting like the lockers, but you couldn't move anymore. There was nothing left to do. Your shoes stuck to the ground, and your lungs were heaving for air. You fell to your hands and knees and screamed as your skin started to burn. Your clothes nearly burned off your body. Each breath was like breathing fire straight into your lungs. Your tears disappeared before they even left your eyes. Your heartbeat felt like it was trying to hammer out of your chest, but also as though it wasn't beating at all. The pain you felt was to be ignored by the flames. They decided you were to be eaten next.

You let out a heart breaking scream as you felt the fire consume you whole. Skin and bones and a broken heart. Peter was dead. Spider-Man had ignored your screams for help. You were going to die there with nothing but the memory of what if you had just run out of the doors like Peter had said. That was, until, you felt the fire fill your lungs.

If Spider-Man hadn't ignored you, you could be safe right now. Badly burned, but safe. If you had just listened to Peter, Rest In Peace. Where had he gone? He left you alone too. The both of them, the both of them left you to run and to die. Ten minutes ago you were nervous about asking a boy out on a date, but now you were sitting in a nest of fire. It chewed you up, but it didn't spit you out, it gave you strength.

You turned a flat hand on the burning floor into a fist and slammed it back into the ground. The floor buckled beneath your new strength, and it didn't make you falter from what you had set your mind to do. You screamed as you pulled yourself from the flames, the pain falling away into pure and reckless anger. As you stood the flames continued to lick your body. They curled around you, against you, swirling through your skin to create a new creature. You were being born again. From hopelessness and defeat you rose anew. A god of fire and anger and revenge.

You shot from the ground with flames at your hands propelling you through the roof and into the sky. This was unlike anything they'd ever seen, and this city had been the landing zone of a massive alien attack. You heard the screams of the students and emergency personnel as they watched you tear across the clouds. People you knew were watching a monster blaze through the atmosphere. Your face a mix of anger and confusion as you followed the string of webs across the city to find the person who had done this to you.

You found him perched on the top of a skyscraper looking down onto the city. He turned around just as you landed, the flames still swirling around your body, your hair a fire all its own, your skin mixed with flames. When he saw you he gasped and shot a web your way, until it burned up before it could reach you.

"Spider-Man!" You said through clenched teeth. He stepped back as you seemed to float toward him with every step. He was terrified and intrigued. Looking at the intense and burning beauty of you made it very clear why he hadn't tried to run, or fight, or even talk to you at all. "You did this to me!"

"I did? No way.... I-" but before he could speak you blasted him with all the anger you were feeling. His voice was familiar, but you didn't react to it in the slightest. You kept your jaw tight and your arms outstretched as the fire seemed to glide through your skin and out of your palms. "WHOA!"

"You will pay." You said definitely. He slung a web to the pole near you and flung himself out of your range. "You left me for dead! You left us both for dead!"

He kept running and swinging around you in a fast and awkward circle as you let the fire flood from your heart and onto him.

"No I didn't!" He yelled, but in a confused tone. He had never seen you before in his life. "How did I leave you for dead?"

"At the school! I was burning alive and you swung right passed me. You swung right passed Peter too, I'm sure!" You started to lift off of the ground, your fire leaving scorch marks on the rooftop. Helicopters flew in the distance, their speakers spouting something that you didn't care about at all. He stopped running around and held out a hand.

"Stop." His voice was a little broken. "You were there? And I left you behind? That's not- that's not possible I wouldn't." He couldn't make sense of it. He was sure he had gotten everyone out, how had Karen not known, how had his senses not picked up on it, not heard her crying out for help. Who was she? "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter!" You started to cry and the tears soothed your burning skin. "You killed me!"

"I'm so sorry..." he meant it. He meant it with every fiber of his being.

"Sorry doesn't bring a life back. Not mine... not Peter's..." As you cried you felt yourself growing faint. The fire had slowed from your hands and the rage of your heart had started to settled. Your feet touched the ground right in front of him and you fell to the ground. He caught you before you collided with the roof. Your skin was still hot, but only just barely hotter than a regular persons temperature. As the fire dwindled into a low blue flame beneath your skin, your hair returned to normal and your eyes were calm again. You were stark naked and lit with a blue glow. His eyes widened to see you there like this. It wasn't how he imagined seeing you bare for the first time, but he didn't mind it so much now that you weren't trying to burn him alive. He caressed the hair away from your eyes.

"(Y/n)... how did y-" he wanted to speak to you. He wanted to ask you what had happened at the school, why you hadn't run from the fire. Why you blamed him for the way you appeared now, but instead you punched him in the face and then blacked out. "Karen, call her mom."

"I'm sorry Peter, but Tony is on his way already. He said that she's going to be taken away." Karen spoke softly, but sternly. Peter sucked back tears. He was terrified for you, and felt guilty from what you had said. "She will be safe."

"She'll be contained." He whispered as he rubbed his thumb back and fourth over your skin. "We can't let that happen."

#YAY I LOVE THIS WHOA????#Peter Parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #Spider-Man #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man imagine #spiderman homecoming #smhc #spiderman imagine #sm:hc #tom holland imagine #imagine #my writing

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howlingbarnes · 7 years

Text

Double Shot - Part 5

Characters - Steve x Reader, Tesla, Pietro Maximoff, Brief mention of T’Challa Udaku

Word Count - 1708

Warnings - Language, Drama

AU - Coffee Shop

Co-Writer for this part - @bovaria

A/N - It’s been a while, huh? Sloooow burn. Also, I would slap Pietro tbh.

Double Shot Masterlist

For the next couple weeks, all you could think about was the night Tesla dragged you out to that dinner. You tried your hardest to busy yourself, but your mind always wandered back to the thought of Steve. Having not seen him since that day, you couldn’t help but wonder what his intentions were. His smooth voice and the way his breath hit your ear would haunt your dreams on a nightly basis. You tried to get a grip on it. Being sure that you were just thinking too far into his advances, you avoid telling your friends these feelings at all cost. That was until you found yourself sat in the living room with the only person that you thought could give you some insight.

“He’s into you.” Thor raised a brow, shooting a glance your way once you were done explaining.

“I don’t think he is.” You answered with a shake of your head, pulling a laugh from the blonde sitting beside you.

“Seriously, Y/N?” Thor folded his bulky arms across his chest and leaned back into the couch. “He pulled all of his moves out in record time and you don’t think he’s into you. Who are you trying to convince here?”

“What’s going on?” Kayla asked, striding into the living room. Instead of taking a seat, she stood behind the couch where Thor sat and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Steve wants to get in Y/N’s pants.”

“Thor!” You shouted before throwing the closest pillow at his head, earning a chuckle out of him.

“You know I can’t hide anything from her.” Thor laughed through his explanation. “She knows what I know. Sorry, love.”

You blinked your eyes open in your chilly, dark bedroom. Looking at the time on your phone, you groaned at the fact that you’d woken up just ten minutes before your alarm was set to go off. You could already hear Tesla moving around and decided that it was probably for the best that you just got up.

The drive to work was calm and quiet. Tesla was exhausted between working and staying up late talking to Bucky. The two fell face first into a relationship and were so smitten that you often teased her about leaving the singles club. She was too tired to talk and you were content with that. Though you worked in the wee hours of the morning, it wasn’t exactly prime chatting time to you.

As usual, all of your co-workers smiled warmly and welcomed you to work. Normally, the smile you sent back was forced but today it was genuine. You had a new reason to be happy and pleasant at work these days.

Steve stood by the drive-thru window with a smirk tugging at his lips. He wasted no time shooting a wink your way when you made eye contact and suddenly, Thor’s words from the previous day managed to play over in your head. Shaking the thoughts from your mind, you went to the back room and grabbed your apron.

The day went along as any other. Long rushes of customers coming in waves for their Pumpkin Spice this and their Peppermint flavored that. Steve was good at keeping up the energy. He offered a bright smile to every customer, worked efficiently, and earned hefty tips from swooning women of all ages. Though it was coming up on the time that your body had its mandatory crash, working in such close quarters with Steve made your heart kick start you back to work. The scent that lingered off him, the way his chest brushed against your back when he would reach around you while he worked, and the short-lived glances your way was all very distracting.

“Y/N, can you take care of the person in the front?” asked T’Challa. You were already filling out some paperwork by the register, and so you nodded, putting the pen down and signing into your assigned register.

“I can help the next person in line.” You called out, looking down at the screen before you. You were too distracted by the computer pulling up the menu to recognize the person now standing before you.

The smile you were wearing quickly melted and your heartbeat skyrocketed as you recognized him.

Pietro Maximoff.

Your ex-boyfriend. The guy had been a first-class douchebag and was the reason you had been single for so long. Your reluctance in submerging yourself in a relationship was because of him, because of how much of an asshole he had been. Pietro smirked and you knew that your face had been an open book to him as shock settled into your bones.

He gave you a short nod. “Hello, Y/N,” he drawled out, teasing you, mocking you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You visibly bristled at this. Before moving yourself to the front of the register, you had tucked the headset you were wearing behind your ear but still managed to pick up Tesla’s voice from it.

“You say the word, I will kill him,” she said, making Steve turn to her with furrowed brows. “Ex,” mouthed Tesla.

At this, Steve’s back straightened and his hands curled into fists. It was pretty obvious that you didn’t like the man, tension and anger came off you in waves palpable enough for all of your co-workers to notice.

Glad that he didn’t have any customers going through the drive-thru, Steve sidled up to you and smiled as widely as he could, sliding an arm around your waist. He knew it wasn’t proper behavior, but he risked it to not see you look so uncomfortable. He’d deal with the consequences later.

Leaning in, Steve pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting his lips linger intimately.

“You okay?” He threw a glare Pietro’s way, who had been caught by surprise at this.

“This your boyfriend?” scoffed Pietro.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” spat Steve. “You came in here to get some coffee. Do it, or get out. Otherwise, you’re disturbing the peace.”

You gritted your teeth. Why was Steve doing this? He was being rude to a customer, and when it came down to it, Pietro could very well call corporate and get Steve written up, or worse, fired. Another part of you couldn’t help but feel thankful for the rescue. Steve had just saved you from having a conversation that you’d been avoiding for a long time. His closeness was also bringing you comfort, and you felt yourself pushing into his side just a bit.

Pietro glared at Steve, obviously not expecting to see your new boyfriend. The men stared each other down until Pietro broke the stare and cleared his throat. “I’ll have the grande Flat White.”

“Give him decaf,” ordered Tesla.

T’Challa snorted from the bar and nodded, starting the drink. You put the order in and pointed at the credit card machine as Pietro made to hand you the card.

The rest of the transaction went by quietly before he walked away, looking like a dog with its tail tuck between its legs. Steve stood by you all this time, never tearing his eyes off Pietro, just challenging him to try something.

A minute later and T’Challa was handing Pietro his drink. Everyone thought that was it, but then a gleam overcame his eyes and Pietro muttered ‘oops’ as he purposely knocked the cup over.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” murmured Tesla.

T’Challa rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the rags, beginning to clean everything up as Pietro stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking smug. You could feel Steve next to you, his stance still threatening, and inwardly smiled.

Tesla walked up to the bar and grabbed the gallon of non-fat milk. “You spill this one, you’re paying for another one,” she told Pietro.

“You can’t make me,” he scoffed.

“Oh, I can and I will!” She began to steam the milk as the Ristretto shots pulled. Stopping the steaming process when the milk got to 100F instead of the usual 152, she only put two shots instead of the normal three and poured the lukewarm liquid into the cup, trying extra hard to make it look as unappetizing as possible. Steve hid his smile behind his hand as you shook your head. Tesla, always taking things to another level.

Tesla slammed the drink down on the counter and slid it over to Pietro. “Get out. And don’t you dare call no damn manager because if you do, no damn corporate nor company will be able to stop me from kicking your ass.”

Pietro scowled at her as he took the drink.

Tesla suddenly smiled widely. “Enjoy it. Don’t choke on it, though.”

Once Pietro was out of sight, Steve sidled up beside you. He leaned in close, keeping his voice low. “You really dated that guy?”

“Pietro was a mistake.” You replied with a roll of your eyes. “Actually, he still is, in general.”

“I hear she’s into mechanics now though.” Tesla jumped in, giving your backside a playful swat.

Heat rose to your cheeks at her words as if there was a fire pit in your belly. You felt yourself freeze out of embarrassment but Steve just shot up a brow at you. Just as he was about to speak, a car pulled into the drive-thru.

“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly at your best friend who was paying you no mind, making order after order.

“If you saw the heart-eyes on that boy when he looks at you, you wouldn’t be complaining right now.” Tesla shrugged, bringing the drinks to the pickup counter. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

You never did get a chance to talk to Steve about what Tesla said. With her by your side, you were basically being pushed into his arms.

Steve clocked out for the day and hung around to get a drink for the road.

“You know, Bucky’s coming over tomorrow night,” Tesla said, holding Steve’s drink hostage until she was finished. “You should come with him and hang out.”

A smile pulled at Steve’s lips after sending a glance your way. “Sounds good. I’ll see you both then.”

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#double shot pt 5 #double shot #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #barista!steve #mechanic!steve #marvel reader insert #coffee shop au #marvel au

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