#odd taxi au

[yanoharuhito]

starafterdeath's public diss-turbulence AU has me in a white-knuckle grip, still (feat. my pisspoor handwriting)

[yumecel]

Ignorance is bliss 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 1.5k words

summary: you always felt something was off about the man you see on the train.

specifics: absolute creep neuvillette, OOC, modern AU

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tws: yandere, stalking, nonconsensual touching, molestation, s/a

Part 1 of Pervert Neuvillette.

[ReadMe 🔗] [1 📍]

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

You’ve always made a conscious effort to avoid sitting next to the man you always see on the commuter train. Something unsettling surrounds his presence.

Others don’t seem to think so. This is in spite of the fact that he sticks out like a sore thumb, briefcase on his lap, blemishless skin, flawlessly styled white hair, immaculately dressed in suits that change daily, but are always various shades of blue. Around him, the bustle of the general public- more restless, more disheveled- fades into the background. He looks so out of place to you, the kind of person that could definitely afford a taxi, yet you see him almost daily on your morning commute.

And you swear he stares at you.

You try to avoid looking at him.

He gets on one stop after you. Of course, there’s nothing odd about regularly seeing someone on public transportation. He does, however, seem to share the same carriage as you a lot. And perhaps that’s also by coincidence, the regularity of what end of the platform you end up standing on. He’s consistent. So are you. You can’t rationalise going out of your way to avoid the man.

You’d come to regret this.

One morning, the train is packed. Not the most abnormal thing in the world, but definitely a mundane inconvenience to grit your teeth through until you get out. Slipping your bag off your shoulder, you place it front of yourself and shuffle onto the train. You’re forced to stand near one of the doors, watching as the last few available seats are filled.

The next stop, you watch as people get off the train, more waiting outside to get on. Any seats that are freed are quickly filled, and you place yourself into a corner as people begin to step on. You turn yourself so your back faces the open doors, trying to protect your bag just in case. It’s a position that feels safe. Until it doesn’t.

Someone is pressing into your back. Unsurprising, considering how another gaggle of people just boarded. But this body behind you seems to be pressing up against you more deliberately, hot breath tickling your neck. There’s no way to reposition yourself, and you know you have to be understanding of strangers in times like these. All you do is clutch your bag in front of you a little tighter, reaching out to a handrail by your side so that you can steady yourself.

You hear your own name from directly behind you.

Your first thought is that you’re imagining things. It’s a male voice, deep and rich, and certainly not recognisable as anyone in your life. But when you ignore it, the presence behind you leans in closer, that same voice now speaking into your ear.

“Be a dear and let me put my briefcase between your feet.”

You freeze in place, willing yourself to pretend nothing is happening- but a hand begins to press at your waist, stroking upwards and downwards, applying more pressure at it starts to climb up to your chest-

You awkwardly shuffle your feet to accommodate the briefcase, stomach turning as you realise how your legs are now slightly spread and now both of his hands are free to do as they please. He manoeuvres the briefcase between your legs and drops it down, hand drifting dangerously close to your pussy. It’s on its side, meaning not even your knees can squeeze together. You’d never regretted wearing a skirt so much in your entire life. Panicking, you start twisting around- and when you can barely make out the blue suit of the man behind you, everything clicks.

“Good girl. I’m certain you’ve figured out who I am by now, yes? I can’t help but feel like we’ve known each other for years.”

The train begins to move.

One of his hands finds yours on the same handrail, engulfing it. His fingers are slender, but you can’t move your own hand away. His body feels as if it’s been locked to yours, now surrounding you entirely. The other hand moves to rest on your waist, thumb gently caressing back and forth over your shirt. It slowly slides downwards to your hip and you lurch forward- but there’s nowhere to go. Only the cold door of the carriage is in front you, locked shut as the train rattles along. Around you, oblivious bodies sway with it, looking down at phones or into the backs of others.

“I know so much about you, my love…” He says, hand briefly gliding to your rear. The train jostles. You feel him press into your back even more, chest bumping against you as he starts to speak again. It was bad enough that he knows your name- but horror fills your haywire brain as he starts listing off more names- reciting a list of your family members, friends, colleagues, social media handles. Your fingers tighten around the handrail and you shake, tears beginning to well up in your eyes out of fear.

Who is this man?

“Do you feel like you know me too, after all this time?”

You shake your head no, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the noise of the train.

“What a pity. You must be curious, though. I’ve noticed that you avoid looking in my direction.”

His hand glides down your thigh, thumb creeping under your tight skirt. You squeak as your lips tremble, staring out into the darkness beyond the train windows.

“When someone leaves a seat next to me, you’d rather stand. I wonder, what are you so afraid of?”

This. This. This.

With a lack of response from you, his hand continues to sweep across your lower body, desperate to feel every inch.

“You have such a lovely figure ,”He mutters, leaning deeper into you. You hear him inhale through his nose and are unable to suppress a shudder. “And such a lovely scent.”

You feel him bend his head down and lightly kiss your neck, causing you to jerk away from him- as far away as possible. Which is, much to your dismay, barely a few centimetres.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He whispers, retracting himself slightly. You’re still reeling from the kiss when his hand starts to go deeper, to somewhere more dangerous, slipping between your legs. You try to close your them but find it impossible to do fully with the briefcase obstructing your motion. The only thing left to do would be to try and bend forward, still exposing your most vulnerable area to him.

There is no escape.

You realise you’re out of luck when you feel his fingers slip over your panties, eager to explore. Your breath hitches and your face is on fire yet a deathly cold pervades every sensation. Worst of all, your body refuses to move. A single, wet tear rolls down your cheek. It isn’t long before one finger hooks underneath the fabric, stroking clumsily across your bare pussy, dragging itself upwards to your clit. Another finger joins it to rub, applying pressure in a way that would be admittedly enjoyable if not for the circumstances. Self loathing creeps up on you with a particularly pleasurable motion, a disgust at how skilfully the man behind you manipulates your body. You whimper pathetically, a sound that must’ve been audible to him as he lets out a small chuckle. It’s too lighthearted, too friendly, too boldly in contrast with the way his hand shamelessly molests you.

He suddenly stops, pausing for a moment with his fingers resting beneath your pussy. Now, only one finger circles your clit lazily, still sending sparks of unwanted pleasure into your core. “I believe it’s almost your stop. I’ll be in touch with you soon to finish what we started but… ah, where should I put this?”

His hand departs from your crotch, wiping carelessly against your thigh but soon returning with an object in tow. Something sharp causes you to squirm, surely it’s not anything dangerous, surely-

“Steady.” He murmurs.

He slips this object- now recognisable as a small card- into your panties, pressing directly up against your labia. With the card placed, he readjusts your underwear and skirt, still rubbing lightly at your clit over your panties until the train starts to slow. It creaks to a halt as he gives a demeaning pat to your rear, whispering his final message.

“Have a wonderful day, beloved.”

The briefcase is pulled out. He shuffles around. You hear him tell someone to “please, let this young lady exit” but you still avoid looking at him. You only look forward, eyes straight ahead as you try your hardest not to waddle with the foreign object inserted into your underwear. Making a beeline to the nearest public restroom, you breathe in and out, heaving. When you finally sit down on the toilet, you slowly peel off your panties with tears of shame dripping down your face.

Just when you thought you could take no further humiliation, you realise the card is stuck to the fabric due to being saturated with slick. You pry it off, trembling, and what you find is a business-card.

Mr Neuvillette. Epiclese Law Firm. Flipping it over, an address and a number you can barely read with your blurred, tear-filled eyes.

You drop the card to the ground, pressing your face into the palms of your hands and sobbing.

Bzz.

Must be your phone. You don’t care.

Bzz.

Bzz.

Bzz.

You end up rummaging around in your bag, seeing your phone already lit up with new notifications on the screen with every passing second. All are images from an unknown number. And with a rudimentary scroll, you realise all images are of you in various locations, and even various states of undress-

With bile rising in your throat, you turn off all notifications and power it off, staring into the blackness on the screen.

You’re calling in sick today.

[kidvoodoo]

Jeest Mafia AU, snippet under the cut 💚💙

Joost tried not to make eye contact with anyone at the airport, though the stares he received at his battered face were inevitable. How many tall, blond, bandaged, bruised and bloody men were in a hurried rush to the terminal? Odds say: not many.

‘Not that I should be thinking about odds right now’ chided his conscience, ‘that’s how I got into this mess in the first place…’

His pace didn’t falter despite the looks from the other passengers lining up in their respective lines. All of them with bags and luggage alike underarm or trailing behind them, his own, suspiciously absent.

No time to pack, clothes on his back, phone, wallet and a little vial of two small white pills. Security checkpoint nearly put an end to those, but a desperate, puppy-eyed look and his disheveled state made the officer roll her eyes and wave him through, for all she knew, or anyone knew, it was aspirin.

‘Fix more than a headache’ his inner thoughts sneered, ‘steady on Joost, for emergencies only’.

He kept his eyes on the gate numbers, briefly glancing at the destinations. Cabo, Shanghai, Johannesburg, each a far flung place he could have potentially laid low in for months, relax on some resort beach or in a high class penthouse…

But that’s not where he’s headed.

He spies the glowing gate number, the destination? Helsinki, Finland. He got the ticket the same day he got the phone call telling him to leave as fast as possible, his usually calm and monotone source had an edge of panic to their voice, Joost trashed the burner after that and shredded the last of his books and burned them. He left his apartment as the ashes were still smoldering.

Finland eh? The only clue of what was happening next was the note in the ticket envelope, hurried scrawling in broken Dutch gave him simple instructions:

Taxi to the airport, pay in cash. Get on the plane. Make sure you are in the camera view the whole time, locate the Air Marshal and watch him. Once you are off the plane, head to the pick up zone in the parking lot and look for the black limo. Tap on the driver’s side window and give the password.

“Here for Tommy’s boy” he mutters under his breath. The magic words that’ll guarantee his safety and freedom, or will land him a bullet between the brows…

Better than the alternative.

He’s on time for the early boarding and hands the Steward his ticket, eyeing the Air Marshal at the doors to the plane’s walkway. He’s given a smile and some well wishes for his flight and finally, for the first time in several days, he feels a little sliver of calm wash over him.

‘Can’t cut me up on the plane you fuckers’

He finds his seat, window view and close to the front of the plane and plops down, the ache in his joints and back starting to flare up since the adrenaline begins to wear off.

Finland…he’s uncertain exactly what is waiting for him there, he regrets not grabbing a translation booklet at the terminal kiosk but there was simply no time. His new phone is IP hidden for the time being till he can get a VPN to bounce his signal, so no using Google’s underwhelming translation system…

He thinks back to a conversation he overheard at a conference last year. The big guys were all there, each of them with a meaty bodyguard in tow and a pistol or two brandished in plain sight.

He was there on happenstance, just finishing up the numbers to hand to his boss for the last fiscal year when his curiosity got the best of him.

“Baltic’s are at it again,” his boss sneers, tapping his cigar onto the floor, “think they’ll hide behind the Nordic cunts so they don’t have to play anymore”.

“Hm.” Another well dressed older man hums in response. He’s the police liaison, a former Captain who’s been working with the mob for 40 years. “Not much to be done about it Albert, the Fins have the advantage now, I hear they’ve even brought Estonia into the fold now.”

Albert snorts, getting to his feet and giving a couple other well-dressed people a farewell wave.

“Cuz of that little shit,” he grumbles, motioning his bodyguard to get a move on. “What’s his name? Kät-something? The Union fucker.”

“Käärijä,” the former Police Captain supplies, “his Union is very bold for an upstart, cutting off the trade in the Baltic’s disrupts everything. Heard he’s in talks of making a deal with the Norwegians as well. That’s the case? Say goodbye to the big money”.

Joost tried to linger as long as possible to catch the last bit of conversation, tucking himself against the wall and listening close.

“Damn idiot, Norway doesn’t play with the new players, even if the young lady is supposedly running things over there now. He’s a fucking lunatic to think the Baltic’s will stay loyal, he’ll be done by the end of the year, mark my words-“

A dinging noise jolts him awake from his daze, the Flight Attendants are doing their safety check. The doors to the plane are closed and for the first time in weeks, months even, Joost’s tense shoulders drop with exhaustion.

He is safe. For now.

<><><>

Roughly three hours later, he startles awake.

The voice over the intercom of the plane cabin announces in several languages that they have arrived at Helsinki Airport and will begin the landing process momentarily.

He spares a glance around the cabin out of paranoia, nothing out of the ordinary and no unwanted eyes in his direction.

Twenty minutes later and he’s heading out of the plane and into the airport terminal. The weather outside is gray and snowy, the sky a mass of colorless clouds and the sun choked somewhere behind. He shivers just looking at the weather, his cheap suit jacket will definitely not suffice.

He heads down the walkways and tried not to get too overwhelmed with the directions, mostly in Finnish but thankfully also in English.

He’s only a hundred feet from the parking lot when he feels eyes on his back. He tries subtly to peak behind and catch if he’s being followed.

Two men, both in dark blue suits and expensive leather shoes, each sporting a grim, intense expression. They have their hands in their pockets.

Joost picks up his pace, eyes focused on the automatic doors that swing open and shut.

He can hear them closing behind him, their shoes loud against the tiles. He starts to jog.

He doesn’t stop to apologize to the people he pushes past to get out of the door, ignoring the scowls and curses thrown his way. His heart is hammering in his chest, he has but a minute to locate the car before he’s dragged off and butchered in a dark corner…

A car horn blares loudly as he flinches and freezes, he had walked right out in front of a pair of high beams, his eyes don’t have time to adjust as he hurriedly runs around to look.

Black limousine, tinted windows with triple thick bulletproof glass and chrome trimming. The driver’s side window rolls down, a bald man with sunglasses and a mustache regards him blankly.

“P-please,” he stammers, eyes catching the two suited men finally breaching the threshold. “I-I’m being followed-“

“What is phrase?” The driver interrupts, not at all phased by the situation in the slightest.

“Th-the wha-oh yes yes, it’s uh…” he swallows takes a breath and speaks the words softly enough for the man to hear him.

“I’m here for Tommy’s boy.”

The door at the back of the limo clicks open, beckoning him inside.

He all but dives into the car and slams the door shut just as the two men make a dash towards the vehicle, only to stop dead in their tracks mere feet away.

Joost doesn’t have the time to take in his surroundings as he sees what has halted his stalkers. In the split second before the limo peels out with a loud screeching of tires, the window on the opposite side is down just enough to see the startled and blanched faces of the two men, who find themselves held in place by a man aiming a 45 caliber handgun at them.

Were it to fire at point blank range, one of the two men would have nearly had his torso blown open. More than a lethal shot, truly overkill at that point.

The car peels out of the lot and before he knows it, Joost is tossed back into he seat as the limo put some speedy distance between him and the danger.

A loud curse and sound of a window being rolled up. Joost finally levels his eyes behind his cracked glasses to see his savior.

Sitting across from him now with the gun held loosely in his grip is a dark haired man with pale skin. He sports a blunted bowl cut and his facial hair is trimmed and tidy. He wears a long black coat with a layered polo necked jumper and a couple silver chains around his neck. The jewelry matches his pierced ears and nose rings, the whole of his attire is expensive and modern looking.

Joost is drawn into the man’s piercing eyes, blue like his own but with an edge of silver steel, made more intimidating and entrancing by the heavy makeup that lines them.

The man is staring at him, Joost’s palms immediately start to sweat.

“I uh,”

“You are the Dutchman we take in?” The man interrupts, his voice has an hint of annoyance, Joost nods politely and holds out his hand to shake.

“Yes, I mean to say, thank you,” he tries to muster a charming smile but finds himself pinned under the man’s gaze like a deer being watched through a hunter’s scope.

“I’m sure this is a bit of trouble for you-“

“Trouble? I say it is bigger trouble for you and not me. You need a drink yes? I have gin and brandy here.” The man all but ignores whatever Joost was trying to say and busies himself with pouring a drink from a side bar containing glasses and some bottles. “Brandy since the gin is warm, I not have a lot of time to get it ready.”

Joost wants to say something, anything to this stranger but finds himself at an utter loss for words. The man looks at him expectantly, pushing the glass of amber liquor into his hands.

“There you drink that, feel better afterwards. You say you looking for Tommy’s boy? That is what he tell you to say? He think he is funny man, he gonna have to explain to me…” the man trails off, eyes now scanning and taking in Joost’s disheveled appearance. “You have injury? I have some bandage here and some other things uh,” the man stops and searches for a word. “you know, doctor supplies?”

“First aid kit?” Joost supplies.

“Ah yes yes! That is it,” the man grins and digs around a bit before huffing in annoyance and opening the little sliding window to the driver’s compartment. He asks for something in Finnish and the bald man replies. Information gathered, he opens a compartment and fishes out a nondescript black case.

“Okei here it is. Let me see your hand, you have blood on your palm.” He does? Joost was in such a mad dash to get away from the goons who had jumped him back in the Netherlands he didn’t have time to take stock of his injuries. He holds out his hand timidly and the man yanks it none too gently to inspect.

“No stitches I think,” he hums, grabbing supplies to clean and patch the gash on Joost’s palm.

The man’s grip is firm and steady, there is warm radiating from beneath the leather gloves he wears.

“You are Mr. Klein eh?” The man says absentmindedly as he cleans the wound. “I hear you screw your boss out two million euros, not bad.” The man smirks, eyes flickering up to Joost’s face. “I like someone who disrupts the status quo. When Tommy say you in trouble, I had to do something about it. Would be a waste for you ending up in concrete.”

Joost cringes a little at the mention of his dilemma, taking a long gulp of his drink and reveling in the burn.

“I don’t know about disruption, I just did what I thought was right is all. Didn’t think it would go this far…” he wishes he could be more proud, he did take a chunk of money from the hands of the worst men in Europe. Now, he’s a marked man, possibly forever.

The dark haired man seems to sense his discomfort and finishes dressing his hand, grabbing a gauze patch and passing it over.

“What is done is done, you think it is bad thing now, but you make a big move, and now you have a big advantage for the war that is coming.”

Joost finishes placing the gauze over the gash on his cheek, looking at the man puzzlingly.

“What war? And what advantage are you talking about?”

The man leans back against his seat and smiles, his sharp canines peak over his lips and his expression is one of amusement and vicious excitement.

“The war between the Union and the Old Men, tear down their ruined kingdom and make our own. The advantage? That’s easy,”

The man chuckles darkly.

“You have Käärijä in your corner now.”

[veltana]

Mafia AU prequels - Reader's break-up

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Fem!Reader, mention of Loki/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1.9k

✦ Rating: Teen

✦ Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, alcohol consumption, lots of fluff and feels, cuddling, sharing a bed, unrequited love/crush.

✦ Summary: Bucky made it his mission to get you to laugh at least once a day, telling stories about Steve and him growing up, or finding a list of dumb jokes and reading them out loud until you found one funny.

✦ Note: This is a prequel to No one as sweet as you set while they were living together in college, which focuses on their growing relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend. You don't need to read No one as sweet as you to get this but I recommend it. (Also posted on AO3)

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

You knew it would hurt when Loki left but you didn’t think it would feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. After kissing him goodbye and watching the taxi leave for the airport you collapsed on a nearby bench, unable to move.

The tears had been streaming down your face and you realized you wouldn’t make it home by yourself, so you called Steve and he had dropped everything.

That’s how you find yourself leaning on him, trying to breathe between fits of tears as you walk home. Bucky is waiting inside the door, taking you from Steve to lead you to the couch. You curl up in a ball, trying to lessen the hurt in your chest and Bucky puts his arms around you while you ugly-cry yourself to a headache.

The sun sets at some point.

“Sleep?” Bucky asks into your hair and you nod, not really able to form coherent sentences at the moment.

Steve leads you into his bedroom and gives you a moment of privacy to change into your pajamas that he got from your room. He couldn’t have known that the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in the past week is one that Loki gave you when he noticed how much you liked it.

Through sniffles, you manage to get it over your head and then get the soft shorts on. You open the door, signaling you’re done before crawling onto the bed and collapsing among the sheets.

The exhaustion makes you crash and you don’t even notice when Steve and Bucky have to move you because you somehow managed to lay on everyone's covers.

Morning comes regardless of your broken heart. The first thing you notice is that the sheets smell odd, and then it hits you. It’s not Loki’s smell surrounding you and it makes you start crying once again.

Finding a pillow you hug it to your chest, curling up on the side. Sometime after that, the door opens, and the bed dips behind you. Soft hands caress your hair and down your neck, rubbing your back soothingly. It makes it slightly better, makes you feel less alone in the hell that is your broken heart.

The person behind you lays down, hugging you close to their chest, resting their cheek at the side of your face.

“Hey, Sweets,” Steve whispers. His soft voice and warm embrace calm you down.

Ever since you found out Loki was going back you’ve been trying to keep up a brave face, because you didn’t want your last weeks together to just be filled with sadness. But when you were at home, and Loki wasn’t there you could let your face fall and shoulders sag.

They were always right there beside you, with food, encouraging words, or helping you get through assignments. Bucky made it his mission to get you to laugh at least once a day, telling stories about Steve and him growing up, or finding a list of dumb jokes and reading them out loud until you found one funny.

You kept telling them you were fine but they didn’t buy it, and after a while you accepted the help, the hugs, and the dumb jokes.

"I'm going to need you to eat and drink something," Steve continues to speak softly. "I know you don't want to. But just something, okay?"

You nod into the pillow.

"Okay," you manage and Steve moves before you get up and drag yourself to the kitchen.

Bucky hands you a Nutella sandwich and a cup of coffee as you sit down. You eat with no enthusiasm, knowing that when you're done you can go back to wallowing. They don’t try to talk to you, only sit beside you in silent support. After washing down the food with the last of the coffee you get up with a quiet “Thanks,” and walk straight back to Steve's room.

Even if the bed makes you feel safe and comfortable you can't seem to go back to sleep. You toss and turn and no matter what you do, blessed sleep refuses to retake you.

After a while, you sigh and find your phone. The first thing you see is that Loki posted a picture from London, looking happy and not at all as heartbroken as you. At first, rage boils in your blood but it’s quickly replaced with sadness and the tears start rolling down your face once again.

Now you feel stupid. Looking back, maybe you’d taken the whole thing too seriously, and to him it had been a fling.

You lay there, thinking of revenge and if it would be too unreasonable to fly to London to give him a piece of your mind. Bucky and Steve would go with you if you asked.

Instead, you text Darcy, wondering if she wants to day drink. She responds quickly, asking if you want to come to her place. Apparently, Jane is equally upset with Loki’s brother Thor.

Bucky watches you walk out of Steve’s room and into your own, closing the door behind you. A second later music starts blaring. He scowls and gives Steve a look but the other just shrugs. “She has her way of working through it, just like me and you.”

An hour later you emerge with your hair and make-up fixed. Bucky feels disgusted by himself when his first reaction to you is lust. You’re looking fantastic but your eyes have no spark in them. The shell might be pretty but the soul underneath is suffering. He wishes he had a way to fix it, make you happy again, bring Loki back if that’s what you need. Even if it will make him suffer watching you with someone else he will gladly do it, if that’s what will make your eyes twinkle with life again.

His big fat crush on you has not diminished one bit since coming to the realization a couple of months ago. Instead of telling you he asks, "Where are you off to, Sweets?"

As you grab a bottle of wine off the shelf and put it in your bag.

"Darcy’s," you answer, and a moment later you're out of the apartment, the door shutting behind you.

“But I mean, Steve is nice. Bucky too I suppose, if he ever stops doing the staring thing,” Darcy comments as she pours you another glass of wine. You shrug, there is no denying they’re handsome and you love them as your friends, but you’ve never thought of them as potential boyfriends.

“It never crossed your mind?” she asks and sits down next to Jane.

Another shrug. “Why would it? They’re my best friends.”

“You say that like it’s two opposite things,” she points out. “It’s not.”

“Well, it’s not going to happen, I don’t have those kinds of feelings for them anyway.”

Jane laughs, “I’ve heard that one before!”

“Can we not talk about new potential boyfriends?” you complain. “I’m trying to forget the old one first.”

It's after three when Steve’s phone rings.

"Hello?" he answers, sleep still clouding his brain. Bucky stirs beside him.

When Darcy says, "Can you come and get your roommate?” he is suddenly wide awake and Bucky sits up. “She's had way too much and I'm too weak to even begin to drag her home," Darcy continues. They are up a second later, grabbing discarded clothes and pulling them on while Steve gets the details.

The grass is cool against your overheated flesh. Somewhere above you, there are stars but you can’t see them for the streetlights shining so bright. After drinking at Darcy’s you decided to go to a party and there had been multiple rounds of shots and way too much wine. Now your head is spinning a little too fast but the good news is that your heart stopped aching after round number four of shots.

Suddenly the light is blocked out by a dark figure. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust and you can make out Steve with a frown on his face. Darcy had said he was pretty and you can see that, you guess.

"How are you doing Sweets?" he asks with a light smile when you wave at him.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you decide to ask.

"Of course, I would!"

He isn't even phased by your question, crouching down to pick you right up.

He’s strong, Bucky is too. Loki couldn’t lift you but Steve manage without a problem to hoist you into his arms and carry you towards the car. Your stupid heart does the last thing you want, a little double beat, but you press that down firmly.

This is all Darcy’s and Jane’s fault. They kept on talking about how good Steve and Bucky would be as boyfriends.

"We would fill your whole room with dirt,” he says.

Bucky is leaning against the car, all tall, dark, and handsome, even though his face is laced with worry. Your heart does another stupid double beat. Clearly what you drank had not been enough if your heart is still able to do that.

Even if it’s in the middle of the night, they’re both here for you. You don't deserve them, you decide.

"Why are we filling her room with dirt?" Bucky asks, confused. Before you can answer Steve does.

"Because we love her."

That makes you giggle in his arms and Bucky shrugs with an, "Okay."

Finally, at home you somehow manage to remove most of your makeup and change clothes, opting for one of Bucky’s old t-shirts instead of the one Loki left you.

When you’re done, you peek into Steve's room where they have already crashed and you bite your lip, not wanting to disturb them. As you turn to leave Bucky says, "Get over here."

This time the smell of the sheets only brings you serenity. It makes the wild thoughts a little calmer and the returning ache a little more manageable.

With the aid of the alcohol, an unbidden thought pops up. The three of you, like this, forever. If they weren’t your best friends, just two guys you met somewhere, could this be a thing? You shake your head, dispersing the thoughts, and when you do, Bucky grunts beside you. His thick arm comes around your waist and it grounds you.

Another morning dawns and with it a vicious hangover. You try to recall what happened last night but the memories end sometime after you arrive at the party.

Somehow you got home, changed, and slept. The bed is empty of course and even if you feel the nausea creeping up your throat, you do feel a little better in the heartbreak department.

After a while, you manage to get up and find Bucky and Steve in the living room. When you plop down Steve’s hand comes to rest at the back of your neck, thumb brushing against your skin.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m not sure,” you answer and tell them about the gaps in your memory. They fill in what they know and then you text Darcy to apologize, before grabbing a blanket.

“What are we watching?” you ask and yawn.

Bucky shrugs. “Some superhero movie.”

Even if you’re hungover the whole day, it’s still great, just the three of you on the couch watching bad movies.

When you retrieve your cover and pillow from Steve’s room later that night you get a weird feeling in your chest, like you want to stay there. But then you dismiss it, taking your things and crawling into your bed.

prev | next

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 13 all chapters

-Later that evening he picks you up near your hostel in a gorgeous wooden water taxi. You’d gotten more than a few odd looks from the scruffy backpackers hanging out in the courtyard, as you’d exited in your chic new dress and heels. You wonder if you look utterly ridiculous, until you see the way John looks at you. There is a heat in his dark eyes that could burn the city down, and you flush all over, knowing the evening hasn’t even begun and you’ve already soaked through your new silk panties.

He waves away the driver, lifting you down by your waist into the boat. It surprises you, and you cling to him, though you never feel for a second that he might drop you. The strength in his arms is unyielding as an oak.

He’s changed into a black suit for the evening, and he’s so fucking handsome you could die. When you’re settled in the bench seat in the back of the boat he lifts his arm for you in invitation, and you nestle in. The night air is a little chilly once the boat gets going, but you are pressed to the long lean length of John’s side, and he keeps you warm. He drives you a little crazy, drawing slow circles with his fingertips on your bare arm.

You go to dinner, and it’s everything you’d hoped and feared. The light is low, the food is delectable, the wine is good, and Mr. Wick is the very picture of dark temptation in the candlelight. He is charming, and sweet, and he touches your fingertips lightly with his from across the table. You always knew he had a wry sense of humor, but loosened up with an aperitivo, he is downright funny, and you find yourself laughing at his comments with purest joy.

You brought that leather-bound notebook from Florence in your new little handbag. When you present it to John he cradles it in his big hands like you have gifted him with something made of pure gold, his dark eyes shining like high-polished mahogany. He looks at you with a tenderness that makes your knees weak, and you are glad you are already sitting down.  

“I know it’s not much…” You feel a little sheepish suddenly, thinking about what he spent on you earlier that day.

“I love it,” he assures you adamantly, and tucks it into his inside pocket, where it will rest over his heart. “Thank you.” He reaches for your hands across the table again, and as if you weren’t gone enough already, you feel yourself steadily, inexorably, falling in love with this man.

Afterwards you go for a walk. He smiles down at you, amused when you stumble on a raised cobblestone, steadying you with an arm around your waist.

“I think you are a bit drunk, Miss y/n,” he teases you.  

You like wine, but you don’t drink it often. You’d had half a bottle with dinner, plus a negroni aperitivo, and a digestivo of grappa after dessert… Yes. Yes you are, and maybe it will hurt in the morning, but right now it feels wonderful.  

“And whose fault is that?” you fire back with an insouciant smile, winning real laughter. The rare sound warms you to the bottom of your soul.

“Guilty.” He’d ordered the drinks, after all.

There is a mischievous sparkle in his jet-black eyes, and you think maybe he’s a bit drunk too. Or maybe it’s just this fucking country, that’s so goddamn romantic. You’re not sure why that annoys you in that moment.

You pause on a bridge, and he reaches up to lightly touch your hair, sweeping it behind your ear, tracing the curve of your neck. It’s almost like he’s petting you, and you cannot help but close your eyes.

Is this man finally going to kiss you?

A small, feral sound escapes you with the thought, and you are too tipsy to be embarrassed about it. It makes him smile knowingly, and now you think he might actually have an inkling of what he’s been doing to you.

You do not know it, but over your shoulder, John sees a suspicious shadow move in an enclave in the distance. He does not like the look of it at all.

“I should probably get you back to your hostel.”

You stick your lips out in a pout, mildly infuriated and currently lacking any healthy inhibitions.

“Are you really going to make me tell you how much I want you, Mr. Wick?” What an effective truth serum a good chianti makes. Your hands find his tie, pulling him closer towards you. He lets you, of course, until your bodies are nearly pressed in a line.

It’s almost enough, but not quite. Never quite, it seems.

He lowers his forehead to rest on the top of your head, and you sense that he is coiled tight as a spring, practically vibrating with the effort of holding himself back. You can feel it in his hands on your sides, as though he can’t decide if he should pull you closer, or push you away.

 “Do you?” he asks, his voice gone low.

“As if you don’t already know,” you grouse petulantly. There is a part of you deep down that knows, as you look up at him, that you are pulling the tail of a tiger. You just don’t possess the self-control at the moment to stop.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s hard to read you,” he confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability, which you find utterly absurd.

“Hard to read me? Mr. Tall Dark and Broody? Mr. Hot and Cold? Mr. I’ll Take You Out On My Bike For The Ride of Your Life on Your Birthday Then Barely Speak To You?”

Again, he laughs, though this time there is an edge to it. He frames your face in his big hands, and you know he could crush you if he wanted, but you still cannot suppress a sigh. You crave the strength in those hands on you with every fibre of your being.

You’d let him pull you apart, so long as he promises to put you back together again.

“Sweet girl…my love is a curse. I don't want to hurt you—but I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”

It almost sounds like a warning.

You pause at that, listening to your heartbeat pounding in your ears. There is a hint of darkness in that sentiment that would have scared you a little, had you been in your right mind. As it is…you are too far gone, and you are desperate to have it all out at last.

“Are you talking about your wife?” you dare ask, your voice hushed as though she could overhear you. Maybe she can. Maybe her spectre would have the mercy to let this man who still walks among the living go. “John…she got sick, and that is not your fault. You can't blame yourself for that.” 

He just shakes his head slowly against you, his long fingers sliding into your hair, tightening at the base of your skull.

“You don't understand.” 

He has you firmly in his grasp, and it sends the most delicious thrill down your spine, right to your loins. You can’t help but squirm against him, closing that distance at last. The line of heat between your bodies pressed is maddening, and you marvel that you can think at all.

“I'm trying to.” 

“I know.” There’s something in his tone that cracks your heart in two, and you find you are afraid. You’re afraid that he still might backpedal on you after all, after all this, and you’re not sure your heart will survive it.

“Please don’t let me go?”

He tilts your head back, in full control of you. You do not fight him, too entranced by his mouth hovering over yours.  

“Remember that you asked.”

You don’t get the chance to formulate a response, because at last his mouth presses to yours, and you forget everything but the feeling of his soft lips and the tantalizing intrusion of his tongue. You would have surged to meet him, but he holds you immobile in his strong hands, taking you just the way he wants you. Yet you are a greedy thing, and your fingers seek the flat planes of his chest, running over the muscled contours beneath his jacket, up the column of his neck to grab fistfuls of his soft hair, the way you’ve craved practically since the first time you laid eyes on him.  

You fancy you almost hear it snap, when at last you manage to break this man’s iron-clad self-control.

Or perhaps it is you, your fragile body, that makes an audible pop when he grabs you up in those strong arms, his fingers digging into your waist as he practically lifts you from the ground in the desperation his ardor. You meet the fury of his kiss with a matching passion, with lips and teeth and tongue, so caught up in the whirlwind that you entirely forget where you are, that you’re in public, that you’re probably not alone. The focus of your world narrows to the single pinpoint that is him, and maybe it’s been that way for you for a while now.

It’s over all too soon, when he tears himself away, breathing heavily in the bend of your neck. You make a small sound of protest, needy for more of his delectable mouth, and he nips your shoulder, maybe hard enough to bruise. You jump with surprise, but you don’t exactly mind the feeling of his teeth in your skin, as though you are something sweet he wishes to devour.

In that moment you reckon you would let him eat you whole, and lick the bones clean.

You are aware of it this time, when he lifts his head to look beyond you, his hawkish gaze sweeping the shadows beyond. It seems like he’s worried about something. But you are wrapped up in his arms, tucked perfectly against his larger body like you are puzzle pieces finally found—you feel as though nothing could possibly touch you.  

“I should get you back,” he says, his voice pure gravel.

“I don’t want—”

“Don't fight me, y/n.”

He uses a tone of voice you've never heard from him before. It is hard as granite, utterly forbidding, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. Feeling this change in you, he sighs and kisses your forehead in apology. “Come on.”

Slightly comforted, you let him lead you with your hand in his, though you still feel more than a little unbalanced, and not because of the height of your heels on the uneven paving stones, or the tremor in your limbs from that hurricane of a kiss.   

This man…

You are not sure what unsettles you more. The whiplash of his mood, or the fact that you’re not sure you wouldn’t follow him to the depths of Hell anyway, so long as he held out his hand to you.

[0mysticmidnight0]

~Mystically Broken AU - Chapter 1~

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You trembled as the taxi took you to a dark street, filled with crime. Robbery, Arson, right in the day light. You felt nervous. The taxi stopped at the tallest building. Once you left the taxi and entered the building, you turned around to glance at the Taxi, two people robbed the driver.. You hurried to your destination. You enter the Elevator, hopping nothing wrong happens.

~Flash Back~

You sat in your boss's office, expecting your paycheck for the month. She looked at you rather nervously. "As you know, our company has been slowly crumbling, we've been losing clients and we haven't been strengthening any business ties. Luckily! We have a few people wiling to help us, under a few conditions." You glanced at her nervously. "Who are these people exactly?" She gulped and looked away, She wasn't usually this cautious. You were worried. "You'll find out soon! They arranged a meeting for us to discuss the terms and conditions. You are coming with me since you are our top employee and one of our representatives!" She smiles enthusiastically. It felt odd, you wanted to know more about them. But you felt like she'd avoid the question. "That's great.." You smiled nervously. Why did your fellow representative have to be sick on THIS day?! You knew you should've spent more time in bed..

~Present~

You gulped as you tapped the button on the elevator. The top floor. The elevator door shut loudly. Who were these people? Why was this place so shady and creepy. You had the feeling that whoever your boss made a contract with isn't really a nice guy. The elevator made an abrupt stop as it opened. You walk out of the elevator and looked around. The floor was glass and it looked like an aquarium? You couldn't see any fish until you saw a.. robot shark.. then another and another.. The room was dimly lit and looked up to see the city's four most wanted criminals and your boss looking at you. "You made it!" your boss's voice muffled you were too in shock and you looked at the four criminals infront of you. "Let's get this over with, my time will not be wasted by your incompetence." Donatello, Mechanical genius, One of the smartest and deadly criminals due to his understanding of technology. He creates deadly weapons that cause mass destruction. it was rumored he uses petty criminals for his experiments.. Who am i kidding, he probably does. He glared you down like he couldn't tolerate your presence. "Donnie, stop your growling. You're gonna scare away the prey." Leonardo, One of if not the person with highest bodycount. He's killed hundreds, thousands to get what he wants. But he always manages to hide the evidence. One of the best Manipulaters. He's hard to catch, people say he just vanishes. He nudges his twin while laughing. He looks at you like he wanted to devour you whole. "Why don't you idiots shut up! Don't listen to them."

Raphael, a literal tank that could take hundreds of people at once. The strongest when it came to raw strength and battle strategy. If you ever cross him or do something that upsets him, prepare to deal with his terrible and DEADLY temper. He glared at Donatello and Leonardo as they shut their mouths. You hear a voice from behind you.. You gasped when you saw who it was. "Well, don't you look fun?"

MichelAngelo, The best at deceiving others and persuading them to do his bidding. He locks people up for fun and calls them his playthings. He kills anyone who steps in his way. He commits daily vandalism. He wouldn't kill anyone right away, he'd slowly drive them to the brink of insanity because it's fun to watch them fall apart. What had your boss gotten you into?! "Now, take a seat. Cynthia here tells us you have experience addressing crowds and dealing with rumors about your company. Dealing with any evidence regarding your companies misdeeds." It was true you were the one dealing with false rumors and false evidence.. That's how you became one of the representatives. But you had a gut feeling they were gonna take advantage of that. "I have been the one dealing with those issues but that was because they were mostly false! I can't defend something when i know it's wrong." You wanted to stand your ground. That was a bad choice. you turned to your side and gulp. There was a sword or katana.. an odachi. There was an odachi to your neck. "All of us have to do things we don't want to do to survive in this cruel world. Do as we say and we'll keep our end of the deal, alright?" Your boss, Cynthia just looks at you nervously, her gaze telling you to accept their condition. "Or we'll have to slowly destroy you one by one.. " His laugh echoing through the room. "Make this quick so i don't have to spend another moment with these imbeciles." you gulped and slowly nodded as you still felt the Odachi's sharp end to your throat. "We need you to destroy all criminal records. No matter how many times i delete it from the governments system, the people of new york still spread these awful rumors. who knew word of mouth could be so, infuriating. we need you to-"

"Ughh.. Donnie! English!" "Just get to the point already!" "I was JUST getting to that. We need you to accompany us to some governmental parties this year. They host four parties each year. One of us will accompany you and we need you to speak for us and claim our innocence." "But you aren't innocent! I-" You felt the Odachi go closer to your throat. "Hold your tongue." "Precisely, Complaints of the people to the government make us a target. So much so that they arranged an elite super force or a group of highly trained professionals after us." "We ain't getting anythin' done when we knows a buncha' creeps watchin' us!" "Do you think you can get the job done? It is pretty fun!" Your boss looked at you apologetically.

You nodded and the Odachi was pulled away and you took a sigh of relief.. What did you get yourself into.?

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Chapter 2: ~

A Family Growing Smaller:

I've teased about what this season is going to be on Discord, and now, a small seed is being planted.

With nothing more than the clothes on their back and hand luggage by their feet, Raffs and Brodie waited for the taxi to arrive. Everyone stood beside them. They knew they'd see each other again soon. You can't walk away from a crew when you've gone through what they have in the last week. Sadly, this only left Rennick, Trots, Muir, Addair, Gibbo, O'Connor, Innes, Roy, and Caz left together. They could all feel their newfound family getting smaller by the day. Soon, it would be O'Connor's turn.

'Safe journey home,' Roy said, giving the pair one of his signature bear hugs.

'Aye, you too,' Brodie replied. It was true what people said about him. He was a miserable bastard. Well, in the eyes of someone like Muir, he was. Never strayed from the rules and didn't know how to laugh. No one had seen him smile, but that could be because of the large moustache that would make Hercule Poirot blush. But today, you could hear the happiness in his voice. Finally going home after nearly six months. 'You lot come to Skye when the weather clears. You've never seen water like that before.'

'Ah, fuck that,' Caz joked. 'I'm never going in the water again.' Like before, everyone exchanged numbers. 'You two stay out of trouble.'

'Says you, Caz?'

'Gie's peace, ya prick.' The pair shared a final chuckle and hug. Caz learned a lot from Brodie, despite the pair never actually working together. He was a good man who taught him much, but the main one was to never go diving. How he and Raffs could do that meant they were braver than he'll ever be. Or, maybe Caz was smarter.

'So, what's your plan?'

'Stay here till New Years, then get my arse back to Glasgow.' But, in all honesty, Caz was conflicted. The scars weren't physical, but The Shape has left permanent damage. Whenever he now felt one of the infected slip away, it made him sad. Like a piece of him was missing. He didn't understand. They were his friends, but not for that long. He didn't even meet Gibbo until the end of September, and he still wasn't seeing a friendship with Addair in the near future.

At the same time, he wanted to go home.

He had to go home, and as much as he enjoyed the peaceful farm and endless fields, the countryside wasn't for him. Plus, he couldn't run forever from what he did. The sentencing will be longer. It's best to just get it over with. Caz wouldn't buy his bail. The money was for Suze to keep the flat. Finally, redecorate the bedroom and get the windows replaced.

'You two gonna stay away from the water?'

'Nah,' Brodie answered. 'But, like Roper said to me. I think we're going to go on a long holiday.'

'I hear Benidorm is nice.'

'Be original, Caz.'

Raffs felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see O'Connor and Addair. It was odd to see the pair stand together without trying to rip each other's throats out. Last time they did, the pair only stopped the fight because O'Connor accidentally gave the poor lad a black eye when he pulled back to swing a punch, only for his elbow to collide with Raffs' eye socket.

'When are you and Mary going home?'

'Soon, I hope. Then hopefully come here.'

'You're going to leave Ireland?'

'It's not getting any better out there, Owen.' For some reason, O'Connor never called Raffs by his nickname. Or anyone really for that matter. Only Caz, Trots, and Gibbo weren't called by their first or surname. 'I'm only still working to provide a better roof over our heads.'

'I can lend money, if that will-'

'No,' O'Connor snapped, holding up a hand and ignoring how loud he momentarily was. 'No. That's your money and yours alone. We'll be fine. You go and see your ma, and have a happy new year.'

'Okay.' Raffs didn't know what came over him. A sense of guilt for not being able to do much for the past few days? Some type of desire to help? It's just something to make him feel useful. From his perspective, he's just followed everyone and waited to be told what to do. But before he could get lost in thought, it was now Addair's turn to give the young man his send-off.

'So, is this the end of Raffs' oil rig career?'

'Absolutely,' the diver answered without a moments thought. 'I know Skye always wants fishermen. It's a way to keep to the water. What about you?' Asking as if Addair could ever go into work again. A look of realisation hit Raffs as soon as the question left his mouth. His eyes widened, and his mouth curled. Thankfully, possibly because his wife and sons were here, Addair took it in stride and just laughed.

'I might take up cricket again.'

'I always saw you as a rugby bloke,' O'Connor teased.

'I love all sports.'

'Even horse racing?'

'No, I'd rather pluck my eyes out.' Yep. Still strange to see the pair actually having a laugh together, but it was nice.

Raffs felt Addair open his hand and put something inside his palm. He looked and held up a wooden carving of himself. It was remarkably detailed. Right down to the small orange pin he kept on the lining of his beanie. The young diver blinked a few times before looking up in shock.

'Did you make this?'

'Just something for you to take home.' Even with that answer, Raffs was shocked. The pair never had a conversation before until Muir gave them a task. But, he was happy. He didn't think he'd be going home with a gift.

'Thanks, Addair. Maybe you should go into woodcarving?'

Addair smiled. 'It's a thought. I've gotta keep the old noggin' active somehow.' The pair shared a handshake. He might be infected, but Addair's hand still felt the same. Nothing had changed in them. They were rough with dried skin peeling off the palms. Man has always done physical labour, so it wasn't a surprise the more Raffs pondered. Might be the only thing The Shape didn't alter.

'Hey? Good luck with Tommy.'

Addair paused. First Trots, then Gibbo and now Raffs. It always surprised him when someone mentioned his son's name. Like an alien was talking to him. He still didn't know how Trots knew to begin with. Yet, this time, his smile didn't fade.

'Thank you, Raffs. Now go on,' he pulled down on his beanie, covering his eyes. 'Fuck off back home.'

And just like that, two more members of the crew vanished. They watched them head down the long drive until they were out of sight. Muir sat in the snow to avoid the possibility of the taxi driver seeing his towering form. Everyone lingered for a moment before going back to their day.

Addair turned and caught Jennifer's eye. She stood on the porch. He smiled, but his smile towards his goddess slowly faded. He saw the look of distress in her eyes and the tears she held back. A sinking feeling weighed the man down.

[mirisss]

SKZ Mafia AU

SKZ OT8 x afab! reader

Featuring Ateez, SKZ’s rival mafia

Wordcount ≈ 1.3k

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, violence, fighting, mention of weapons, 

I changed the story a tiny bit but I hope you still like it. 

Third person POV

(Y/n) had been out for a girl’s night with Lia and Chaeryeong, first some shopping, a dinner, some dessert, and now the next stop was a club. Lia and Chaer were excited and looking forward to dancing and singing their hearts out at the club. (Y/n) on the other hand, was feeling very tired, and she was contemplating going home to her eight boyfriends instead of going to the club. After thinking it over, she decided that she wanted to go home. 

“Hey, girls, not to ruin the night or anything but I’m really tired so I’ll head home, but you guys should go,” “Are you sure?” “Yes, Chaer, I’m sure. I’m really tired so even if I went to the club it wouldn’t be any fun, you know having me yawning and asking when we’d be going home. Besides, we can always go out some other time,” “Want us to wait with you until the taxi comes?” “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just call the boys and they’ll come. They’re eating dinner about two streets away from here,” “Alright, text us when you get home,” “Will do,” 

As the two girls began walking again, (Y/n) took up her phone and dialed Chan’s number. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” “I’m really tired so I decided not to go clubbing, I just parted with the girls, are you guys still at Chang’s? I’m not too far from there so maybe we could meet up halfway?” “Yeah, we were just leaving, but I think it’s better if you stay where you are, if you’re alone you could become a target, just stay there and wait for us, we’ll be there in 5,” And so they hung up, (Y/n) spent the time scrolling through her phone, waiting for SKZ to show up. 

Suddenly, she saw two pairs of shoes coming into her view as she looked at her phone. She didn’t recognize them so (Y/n) looked up from her phone, hoping her boyfriends had just gotten new shoes. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She met the eyes of two men that she did recognize, she turned and prepared to run, only to meet 6 more men, all sporting nasty smirks. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” The shortest man spoke, sending anxious shivers down (Y/n)’s spine as she hoped SKZ would arrive soon.

(Y/n) knew that her boyfriends were the leaders and members of a mafia gang, Stray Kids, also known as, SKZ. Though, previously, she had barely noticed it except for them carrying weapons, having a bunch of money, and often dressing the part of the Mafia. She had seen pictures of one of their rival gangs, Ateez. SKZ and Ateez were the two strongest mafias in town, they didn’t fight a ton but recently a conflict had sparked between the two gangs. And (Y/n) had now become caught in the middle of it. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” In an attempt to call for help, (Y/n) threw herself down on the cold, slightly wet ground. Clutching her phone close to her to hide it, she managed to dial Seungmin’s number but before she could actually say anything, Yunho lifted her off the ground causing her to drop her phone. Seungmin answered the call, calling out her name, with no response, all he heard was a familiar voice saying (Y/n)’s name and something along the lines of  “Cooperate and we won’t have to hurt you,” Seungmin hung up the call and told the others of what he heard, the eight of them ran full speed, hoping to arrive in time to save (Y/n). 

(Y/n) tried to run away, but failed miserably, the odds were against her. One vs eight, yeah, it didn’t look good for her. While trying to run away, she had fallen over a few times, resulting in a couple of scrapes and bruises, her phone had been shattered once Jongho noticed that (Y/n) had called Seungmin. Now, Ateez was trying to get (Y/n) to come with them away from the street. A few people were glancing at them but doing nothing as they recognized the gang and also noticed Mingi holding a gun completely visible in his hand, threatening anyone who might think of stepping in. 

“Come on, princess. Nothing bad has to happen, just shut your mouth and come with us,” Seonghwa said, (Y/n) wasn’t sure who he was but she faintly remembered seeing the name Seonghwa under a picture of a man who looked very similar to this one. “If you think I’ll just surrender to you, then you must be dumb,” It was evident that Seonghwa did not like that (Y/n) was talking back to him. “Darling, you’d be much happier if you did as we said. It wouldn’t be good if we had to resort to violence, now would it? Hmm, would you prefer to come with us or lose a limb?” (Y/n) would be lying if she said she wasn’t frightened by the demonic look in the eyes of the man who now stood before her, if she recalled correctly, this was San. 

Running on pure adrenaline and bravado, (Y/n) mustered up the courage to spit in San’s face. “I’d never stop fighting, now let me go,” “You bitch!” They all shouted at her action. (Y/n) was shaking, scared that she made the wrong decision and had commisioned her own death. She shut her eyes, preparing to be shot or stabbed or anything. She heard a lot of noise around yet she felt nothing until a pair of arms enveloped her in a warm hug. 

“(Y/n)” The familiar, warm voice of Felix greeted her ears as she let out a relieved breath. “Come on, (Y/n), let’s get out of here,” Felix shielded her view as he led her out of there, the other’s staying to resolve the conflict. No gunshots were heard, (Y/n) hoped they could resolve the conflict peacefully. Wishing that all her boyfriends would get out safely. Felix led her to their car, where the two sat and waited for the rest. A few minutes later, the seven remaining boys returned to the car. (Y/n) scanned them for injuries, happy to see that her eyes couldn’t find any. 

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Changbin asked as he frantically looked over (Y/n). “I’m okay, I have a few scrapes and light bruises, mostly I’m just shaken from it all,” All the boys gave (Y/n) a hug each, mostly to calm their own worries for her safety. “Let’s go home,” Hyunjin said as they all got into the car. 

Once at home, Lee Know and Han helped treat (Y/n) bruises and scrapes, then they all changed into comfortable clothes and sat down in their extravagant living room to watch a movie or two and cuddle. Happy they were all safe and sound in their home. 

[willowser]

i have this image of modern au denji saving you from a terrible date LOL

he works at some high-class restaurant with his tucked shirt and tie—a job that aki got him—waiting tables and occasionally cleaning dishes. and you're there, in a nice dress, on a second date with a man you don't really care for, that is a bit pig-headed about how much money he makes and worries way too much for how people perceive him. he's not bad, but the conversation keeps coming back to him and all his accomplishments and there's little he appreciates about you and suddenly you find yourself excused to use the bathroom.

except you just hide. around the corner, with your back pressed into the wall as you try to summon the motivation to get through the rest of the night. you don't know how you'll do it, really, until this guy is coming out of the kitchen to your left with a tray in his hands and he looks right at you, a little surprised that you're there, and then he smiles and nods. when he returns from dropping off his food, he comes to stand right beside you, leaning against the wall like he's not on the job, and he tells you—

"you look beautiful in that dress."

and you're floored ??? because who even ARE YOU ??? but he's so open and honest 🥺 and even if his face is a lil blushy, he just—says it. no shame. after spending the last hour with a guy you're not sure even remembers your name, it's nice to hear, and he's cute with his pretty, sparkly eyes and crooked smile 🥺

he can tell you're clearly not enjoying yourself, so he just nods to the kitchen at your left. "there's a door to the back, if you wanna ditch."

under normal circumstances, would you bail on your date? no, probably not, wouldn't have the guts, but there's something about this guy and his lil open mouth smile and unabashed goo-goo eyes that has you thinking fuck it. odd that a stranger would give you such a confidence boost, but now you wonder why you're subjecting yourself to some half-ass treatment, why you've been settling for guys like the man at your table.

you can do better than that—probably—and somehow this waiter is reminding you of your worth.

so you do allow him to lead you through the kitchen, and he couldn't care less about his coworkers staring at him, couldn't care less about the strawberry-blonde girl washing dishes that shouts, "denji, get over here and help me!"

you have this brief moment of panic once you get out into the alley that this is a trap you've fallen right into, but he—denji—just stands beside you on the sidewalk, staring down the road like he's watching for a cab.

"i don't—" embarrassingly enough, you're just now noticing how empty-handed you are. "shit, i don't have any of my stuff."

"oh," he shrugs, no problem. "i'll get it, you just find a ride. i don't have a license or else i would—y'know."

it's just so strange, that he's so giving. like he'd go out of his way to help you just because he can. not because he expects any money or for you to sleep with him, he's just—helping because he could. because he thinks you look beautiful in your dress.

he doesn't say anything about your date when he returns, just hands you your phone and jacket and wallet with his same lil smile. and you've got a taxi waiting with the door open and he just stands on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, making sure you get in okay, and the final straw is when he says—

"congrats on your job thing, by the way."

job thing, that you told your date about, who didn't even blink at your good news. wherever he was—denji—whatever table he was helping, and he still heard you.

you keep the cab door open, one foot in and—under normal circumstances, would you do this? probably not, wouldn't have the guts, but he's so—

"hey," you say, leaning against the doorframe with a smile that makes his face redder under the streetlamp. "what time is your shift over?"

and this guy—denji—just grins, already tugging at his tie. "whenever you want it to be."

[bbeeohazardd]

IT'S FINALLY DONE, MODS STOP THE TIMER

okay, so, i said i would finish this tomorrow, but then people showed excitement and i got so hyped that i couldn't sit around and wait to finish so here we go

JRWIVRAI

HLVRAI and JRWI The Fated crossover AU thing that i have been losing my mind about for weeks, basic info and world stuff under the cut bc it's so damn long, i will eventually do full body refs with info about everyone's backgrounds but for now i am exhausted and after i post this i am going straight to bed lmao

Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the world was hit with a calamity known as Spell Plague, a blight on the world that threw everything out of balance, magic itself being frayed and entire planes being affected.

One such place was Ingris, being hit in a way where it split into two worlds running parallel to each other, an issue that caused certain gods to rise to power as others fell. For many years, the after effects of the calamity would continue to ravage the world, and even once things started healing, the two worlds would stay separate.

Until hundreds of years later, two adventuring parties, similar yet different in many ways, would enter their own respective caves. The two groups finding an odd relic, a large gemstone, that they would touch, causing the two halves of the world to finally merge back together and become one again. An event that would result in the two parties meeting, and having to team up in order to save the world.

Outside of the party, the general public is unaware of the merge, but the gods know, and only time will tell what chaos will arise from it.

Gordon Freeman - Half-Elf Fighter Benrey - Changeling Bard Harold Coomer - Duergar/Dark-Dwarf Barbarian Bubby Coomer - Drow/Dark-Elf Sorcerer Tommy Coolatta - High-Elf Warlock G-Man - Archfey Lord of the Eclipse, Patron of Tommy Darnold Pepper - Half-Elf Wizard Forzen - Hobgoblin Artificer

General Groups: The Fated - Br'aad, Sylnan, Taxi, Velrisa, Mountain, Gordon, Tommy, Coomer, Bubby, Benrey Team Nice - Redd, Darnold, Forzen

[t0ast-ghost]

S2 Episode 17 (A Piece Of The Action) haven’t we had enough action? The last episode was so much. I’m tired let me rest.

I’m watching it anyway:

- What the actual fuck is happening? An intersection?

-

“Let’s not argue about it, let’s go study it.” Yeah Kirk knows they’d be on each other in a second (edit: not like that)

- Spock pushing McCoy and Kirk out of the way of a car. I can and will watch this clip all day

- “You trying to make trouble?” “Who, me?” “Don’t give me those baby blue eyes.” “What?” Hehe

- “Which one are you guys the captain?” “Depends.” Depends on what Kirk???

- He grabs Kirk and both McCoy and Spock look so protective

- Kirk just wanting to go on a fun planet study with his boyfriends and now they’ve ended up in a life or death situation

- They’re sitting on the boxes in such drawable ways. I lobe them

- Spock mumbles his objections because he thinks Kirk is just inaccurate when he’s really just bullshitting

- Kirk’s bullshitting and Spock listening so intently to the random rules he’s making the fuck up

- “Spock what’re the odds of getting a royal fizzbin?” “I’ve never computed them, captain.” “Well they’re astronomical, believe me.” Spock then just mouths ‘well okay’ while looking so defeated

- They were so ready to beat the shit out of the mobsters

- McCoy complimenting Spock

- McCoy and Spock arguing about how to save Kirk, they will go off about anything holy crap

- Kirk is more resourceful than they think, though one of these days I think Spock would like to actually rescue him

- “Incredible as it seems, Dr. McCoy and I are once again prisoners of the chief criminal boss of a society patterned after old earth gangsters.” As incredible as it seems?!? McCoy warned you about this shit, but you insisted on going in headfirst to save your boyfriend

- “Logic and practical information do not seem to apply here.” “You admit that?” “To deny the facts would be illogical, doctor.” McCoy is somehow softer in this episode? Like more soft spoken

- *Kirk leaning into the bullshit* *Spock and McCoy sharing a side eye* they’re so done with his shenanigans

- They’re so confused by cars, it’s adorable :))

- “Captain, you are an excellent starship commander, but as a taxi driver, you leave much to be desired.” “It was that bad.” I love them I love them so much

- I would not trust Kirk to be a babysitter

- For a split second, a very split second, I could imagine an au where Kirk and Spock adopt a kid and are running to find their child or smt and it made my heart melt goddamnit

- “That’s peanuts to someone like the federation. Right?” “Unquestionably.” “Riiighht?” “Right.”

- I love Kirk’s mumbled normal voice “Kirk to enterprise.”

- “Right?” “Check.” They’re adorable

- How is Bones doing?

- “Must we?” “It’s faster than walking.” “But not as safe.” “Are you afraid of cars?” “Not at all, it’s your driving that alarms me.”

- Oh there’s Bones “Knock it off, sawbones.” Sawbones and Spocko, this man is a menace

- How would you feel if Kirk called you baby then sweetheart? Poor Scotty, gotta put up with this bullshit, he’s an engineer for crying out loud

-They gave Bones a gun. Holy crap.

- Kirk is just standing on a table cause he wants to. We were also ROBBED of McCoy in a mobster suit

- Kirk looks so tired, like me when I’m in my binder all day (edit: I think I was tired from being in my binder all day when I wrote this)

- McCoy looks so pleased. He wants to go home.

- Kirk: *bullshitting again* Isn’t that logical?

- That was such a silly ending I can’t even begin to describe

What is happening. My brain is melting at this point. The sillies are getting out.

Masterpost

Episode story by David P. Harmon

Teleplay by David P. Harmon and Gene L. Coon

[sofasoap]

Nikolai

Lastochka series:

Lastochka - little Swallow Nikolai taking an interest in a little swallow in Taskforce 141. To the dismay of the boys.

Lastochka - Part II This is the chance,for Nikolai, Captain of Chimera, to show his quality. 

Lastochka - interlude Realising your feeling for the flirtatious Russian man.

Lastochka - Part III Keeping it under the radar has its benefit. until it isn’t.

Lastochka - Night Two can play the game. Lastochka - wedding night You want to please your newly wedded husband, just as he has pleased you.

Lastochka - Part IV Will they be too late?

Lastochka - Part V Denial and healling.

Lastochka - Epilogue  Family.

A quiet moment - Lastochka Little Anya getting all the love from the family

Lastochka -Espionage A mission you can not refuse Lastochka - in the hanger You miss the intimate sessions with your husband after all the hectic missions and life. you decided to seek him out in the hanger.

Drabble - Por Una Cabeza Distractions and tango.

Lastochka - Raging waves

Lastochka - Raging Waves - prologue Just as everyone think life is peaceful and calm, the past comes crashing back into both your life. Malen`kaya printsessa After the chaos. the family. Nikolai's little precious princess.

Lastochka AU:

Lastochka AU : Strange taxi driver  New city, new life, new job. What else can go wrong on the first day? Lastochka AU : Strange blind date The one and only time you want to twist Gaz Garrick's head off. Lastochka AU - Strange Encounter You just can't get a break, can you?

Lastochka AU - Strange marriage He wants you, and maybe you want him too?

Lastochka Au - Strange battlefield Nikolai is focusing his energy too much on protecting something that is very precious to him. His wife's backside.

Lastochka AU - Strange confession Some sickness, some realisation, some confession, some sadness.

Lastochka AU - Strange tribulation The shock, the anger, the banishment,the begging, and the finale. -- Alternative ending - what if they didn't........

Lastochka AU - Seven Seas - 1 Going against the odds of society's expectation and prejudice, you made a name for yourself as Lady Fortuna of the sea. but one day ....

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 2

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

The man lets you go as the bouncer approaches again. He hands over a green bottle of Perrier. The stranger uncaps it and offers it to you as the carbonation hisses from the open neck.

“Have a drink,” he says gently.

You take the bottle and gulp, the bubbles nearly choking you. He looms there with you, watching you drink. You pop your mouth off the bottle and stare at his lapel.

“I'm sorry,” you gasp, “I think I'll be okay now.”

“No need to apologise,” he assures you. “I'll stay with you until you're better.”

“You don't…” he leans in again and your breath catches, “you don't have to do that.”

“Oh, I couldn't leave you. Go on, have some more water,” he says, “Jonathan, by the way, I'm afraid our introduction was lacking.”

You're confused. You don't know this man. Why is he so interested? You glance over at the pretty girls in their mini skirts and strappy dresses.

“And you?” He prompts.

You give your name to the brim of the bottle before you swig again. You rub you cheek then let your hand drop to your stomach. You cringe at the gurgle in your stomach. 

“Have a bit much to drink?” He asks.

“I don't… I don't drink,” you answer, “but… they gave me it.”

“They? A friend?”

“Coworker.”

“Ah, a work outing. Rather odd choice for that but who am I to say? I was lured here upon the premise of business myself.”

You hand the bottle back to him and hug yourself. He twists the cap on as you peer down the street. They probably won't even notice you're gone.

“I should go,” you stand up, “thanks, uh, sir, for your help.”

“Go? Are you driving?”

“Yeah, my car is over…” you trail off as you brave a glance up at him. His blonde hair is tidy and his eyes are a perfect shade of sky blue. “...there.”

“You can't drive, you said you've been drinking,” he tilts his head.

“Oh, uh, I guess,” you peel around, keeping your arms crossed, “a taxi…”

“We could share? I have an early morning meeting so I'll be off about now.”

“Oh, no, that's fine–”

“I don't mind. In fact, I'd be more bothered to send you of not knowing if you got home safe,” he intones.

“But… you don't know me.”

“Well, you can't get to know people if you don't start there,” he chuckles lightly, “how are you feeling now, then? Calmer?”

You nod. He holds out the bottle. 

“Keep it. Finish it if you can. It will help sober you up,” he lets you take the bottle before he turns and raises his arm, hailing down the street for the approaching headlights. You'd be on the curb for a while before anyone saw you jumping and waving. That would be embarrassing. 

“Dear,” he looks back at you as a yellow cab approaches.

“I said…” you don't bother repeating yourself. People don't hear you. It's why you prefer email or IM.

The driver is there. That's a safeguard, right? The man, Jonathan, opens the door for you and you get in. He goes around the other side and gives his address, “but first…” he gestures to you.

You say your own address as you place the water bottle in the cup holder and buckle in. You stare out the window and watch the street roll by as the car pulls out. You keep yourself nestled into the door, making yourself as small as you can.

“So… coworkers… what do you do for work?”

“Code.”

“Ah, interesting, valuable skill set. I have many coders on my team. Always reliable, always honest.”

You nod. What do you say? Your work isn't exciting and the few times you worked with other coders were less than pleasant.

Silence. A strangling dearth of sound. You fidget, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt. You just want to get home. The prospect of having to pick your car up the next day adds to your anxiety.

“I am rather too talkative for my own good,” he chuckles.

The driver seems to take a hint and flips on the radio. You exhale, relieved for the white noise, and refocus out the window.

It's an odd end to the night. You knew going out would probably be unsettling but this is all so strange. You suppose you've been in your own space for too long. You've never been good with other people.

As you recognise the street you're one, you sit up. Jonathan inhales and hooks one leg over the other. The driver steers around the corner sharply and nearly has you falling across the seat. You slap a hand on the leather and resist the physics. 

You peek up and meet Jonathan's eye. An accident that has you boiling and looking away. You see your house and lean forward.

As the driver stops, you pull at the purse slung around your body. You look at the meter and search for your wallet in the slouchy body of the bag. Jonathan tuts and flutters his fingers at you.

“My treat. Please, save your money.”

“But–” you gulp back a response. You should pay but you also shouldn’t argue with kindness. That’s what your mother always said.

You click the seat belt and let it recoil. Your hand is already on the door as you’re ready to run and hide. The man says your name. You pause and look back, not wanting to be rude.

“Well, have a good night,” he drawls.

“Oh, uh, thank you, you too,” you pull the handle.

“Very nice meeting you,” he calls softly, right before you close the door.

[gaylordscooter]

Log of the Multiverse: Error (Page 1)

Prefacing this by saying, if you see him, you're probably dead. so this entry doesn't really help with increasing your survivability against him.

I've seen him in person once—or at least i heard him once. It was when Dream portaled over to me to retreat from a fight.

he kinda let out some kind of scream out of anger?? it sounded like a distorted fax printer. I didn't realize the sound was even coming from a person (can error even classify a person?) the portal closed before i could get a good look at him (also before he could, y'know, enter the portal...)

Anyway. everyone knows about error so this entry's kinda useless i think. (but really there's only one copy of this thing so really this whole thing is kinda. just for me) im using the word "really" too often. does that matter? im the only one reading it.

yes it does matter because when i read back on this it'll bother the hell out of me. hello future me rereading this, yes i still go on tangents and write at ungodly times

error. the guy who destroys aus. it's his thing. for some reason idk we all have our quirks

he has a way of doing it too it's pretty organized actually (for the most part). he targets the human first and just kinda yoinks their soul and brings it to the antivoid so that the world cant be reset. and then he goes ham. (actually it's not that organized)

i asked ink if there's a pattern with which aus he destroys, which was a pointless question because ink's memory is worse than my ability to keep my train of thought. BUT he did tell me that he hasn't destroyed a single underswap au ever since i joined the team. odd way of wording it, makes it seem like i was the causation for that but obviously im not. maybe probably definitely.

makes me wonder what did cause error to stop attacking underswap aus...

oh. he also doesn't attack outertale aus, ink told me that too. but that's cus he finds the depths of space to be pretty (the charms of space remain unmatched, even for universe destroyers.)

i doubt he stopped attacking underswap aus because he found the environment pretty. who knows. thats something to look out for.

it would be much easier to find out if i could transverse aus by myself...

note to self: find a way to transverse aus without using ink as a personal taxi

[tigorrrr]

An idea for Skin-Deep AU::

Since Nejteri is a single mom of two, on weekends once a month she goes to unwind. Given she hanged out with odd friends until her pregnancy she was around folks that openly talked about BDSM and introduced it to her.

So, that's how she meets Alexa. Just as another Dominatrix passing by but funny enough, when Nejteri was on a smoke break and Alexa waited for taxi outside, one day they began to make small talk.

They may not be THE BEST of friends but just a soul to talk to about anything - especially shit talking about some very bad Doms at the club/dungeon lol.

@blind-premonition

God but could you imagine it- Nejteri being Alexa's submissive lol?

I guess hardly that would be a possibility, I don't think Alexa would be into Nej (respectfully) pffft but maybe testing the boundaries would be ok?

[corner-stories]

No 4 + aruani

Hope you're having a great day :)

September Prompts 🌻

4. Juke Box More Modern/College AU set in Toronto with a little sprinkle of Pokkopiku.

Somewhere on Dundas street is a tavern that melds a selection of hipster microbrews with a selection of vintage arcade games. Armin's not usually one for going out, as being perpetually overworked is any grad student's god-given right, but tonight is an exception.

So in a dimly lit corner of the place, he stands behind a contraption made decades before he was born. He sips on his lager and goes between watching Porco work at the buttons on pinball machine, and watching Pieck cheer for her boyfriend like it's the playoffs and there's thirty seconds left on the scoreboards. Even if he's not the one playing or even yelling as loud as Pieck, it's a moment like this that makes Armin wonder if he should go out more.

Upon finishing his lager, Armin leaves the Pinball Wizard and the Spectator to head back to the bar. Like a good patron, he waits patiently to be served, orders a refill from a tattooed barkeep, and makes sure to add some cash to the tip jar.

When he turns back around Armin scans the tavern behind browline glasses. The first thing he notices is Porco pumping his fist in triumph and Pieck cheering under the influence of an overpriced IPA, but the second thing he notices is alone in the corner.

With a fresh lager in hand, Armin steps over, weaving through a sea of patrons enjoying the vintage video games of their choice. He arrives to find Annie standing in front a machine that fits with the venue's overall theme, but will not allow the user a round of Pac-Man or Crazy Taxi.

Annie is browsing the music of a jukebox that time forgot, a machine that looks much older than the others but is still alive despite everything. When Armin stands beside her he gets a glimpse of the discs inside. Most of the songs are from the 60s or 70s, though one tune from '81 appears to have made the list against all odds.

Armin watches his girlfriend select a song by the Supremes that he's only ever heard from his grandmother's gramophone. The tune may contrast the indie rock playing through the venue's speakers, but Annie seems undeterred with her choice and pushes the play button.

When the vocals of Diana Ross don't start playing from the machine, Annie pushes the button harder and Armin chuckles.

"I think you're supposed to put in a quarter."

She turns and gives him a look that just screams 'do you think me stupid?' but stops short of actually saying it, much to Armin's amusement.

"I know," she tells him instead. "But sometimes these things are rigged for free."

Armin watches Annie fish around her pockets in search for some kind of coinage, because even in this economy she should have something lying around. He feels in his pockets as well and soon procures a handful of quarters and lint.

"Here, I got some change."