#so it has just been cold and dark and rainy for like five days and its AWFUL
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Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.
Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you:
1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator.
2. Your dear fiancé.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.
Word count. 3.0k
A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.
Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing.
It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.
Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now.
But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.
---
It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.
Was Satoru running late on a mission today?
It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.
Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.
Wait.
Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?
“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day.
Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?
“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence.
Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step.
Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.
Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.
There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru.
Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair.
Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing.
“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance.
“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.
In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.
“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.
You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.
Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.
Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up.
A shiver runs down your spine.
“Toru…you okay?”
“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer.
“Satoru.”
The simple call of his name sealed your fate.
The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed.
Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.
“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?
“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?
“What?”
“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt.
And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth.
Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.
Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”
“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..
Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.
You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy.
You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours.
Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.
He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.
Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection.
Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.
Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue.
In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?
Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.
As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.
“T-Toru…are you okay?”
But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.
A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you.
You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.
“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.
You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs.
You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.
“I want-”
You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core.
You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive.
“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.
Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.
It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.
“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”
Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor.
“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle.
Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies.
With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.
If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.
Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.
“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine.
“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.
Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”
You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally.
“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure.
You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt.
Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.”
You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.
His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy.
“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.
Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.
“One- more.” he moans.
Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.”
“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts.
You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed.
Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.
Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick.
Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out.
“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets.
As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.
You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully.
Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.
Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out.
Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half.
Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive.
Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night.
Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore.
“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.
You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.
Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru.
The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?
That’s when you black out.
Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.
Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch.
What happened.
“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.
“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?
“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”
“...wow.”
“Wow.���
“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”
“...”
A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”
A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jjk#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE
╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚
you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.
in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff
word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k
fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚
“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett
now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚
THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.
after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver.
lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.
this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.
when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.
you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you.
the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth.
the person is drenched and miserable.
and practically radiating angst and despair.
because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.
they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.
park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about.
park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends.
and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face.
oh.
you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep.
crap.
you should say something.
you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”
sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity.
“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain.
“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips.
the rumors are so true.
sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.
in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.
“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height.
“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”
oh god.
you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.
his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.
you wish he’d say something.
anything. literally anything.
but he’s silent.
well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?
just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.
“. . . niki.”
huh?
you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.
“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”
oh.
your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”
sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space.
“so where’s niki now?”
he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”
“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!”
stupid stupid stupid.
why are you rambling so much?
sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”
you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”
he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”
you blinked in surprise. “how?”
he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.”
you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.
you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy.
“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”
“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”
“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”
he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”
your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”
sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.
how pretty.
his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again.
you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus.
it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction.
“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”
“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.”
“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”
“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.”
sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever.
he knows your name.
he’ll see you around.
you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.
and he wants you to get home safe.
.
( to be continued )
this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒
taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !
a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓
#enhanet#hyfenet#k-labels#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#sunghoon imagines#enhypen imagines#sunghoon oneshot#enhypen oneshot#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x you#enhypen fluff#sunghoon drabbles#enhypen drabbles#sunghoon imagine#enhypen imagine#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen smau#enhypen sunghoon x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#sunghoon headcanons#park sunghoon headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fanfic#sunghoon scenario#park sunghoon imagine#tr—has an edge ☁️
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Cruel Summer
Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Aaron Warner have been secretly seeing each other since the beginning of Spring. The problem is that your parents are part of Omega Point, the rebel group of The Reestablishment. While Aaron’s father runs The Reestablishment along with other leaders from other continent. From secret meetings to I love yous, you start questioning if all of this is worth taking the risk.
Author's Note: Hello, here's my first Aaron series. First off, I ctrl+delete Juliette in this AU. Second, Aaron is in his late twenties in this story and so is the reader. I try to make everything as accurate as possible but it has been a while since I read the first three books for the series, so I might forget certain details. Anyway, comments are welcome! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 5.8K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
It was raining.
It was always raining these days. If not, the sky was dark and gloomy. You didn’t know how long since the last time you saw the sun. Since The Reestablishment had taken over and wars had broken out all around the world, the sky was just blanketed by dark gray skies. You remembered your childhood and how the world was back then. Sunny skies, pink sunsets, children on the playground. You would hear the ice cream truck around the neighborhood during summer. You remember spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. It was your favorite time of the year.
Autumn and Winter.
Now, it was just cold, gloomy and rainy most days. The weather was pretty much unpredictable. Broken buildings, fires breaking out, civilians lost around the streets outside or getting shot if they didn’t follow The Reestablishment’s rules. You have seen the brutal things the government had done to those civilians, and it hurts to see them suffer and it hurts even more knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents had warned you to stay away from trouble. To always stay alert because you never know what The Reestablishment would do next.
Your parents were part of a secret organization called Omega Point. They ran it along with their friend Castle. The group took in people who have some sort of supernatural abilities and aimed to destroy The Reestablishment. You, however, didn’t have any special abilities. You were only part of the group because of your parents.
Castle was always alert, and he seemed to know more than what he led on. You couldn’t help but wonder if your parents also knew more than what they usually would tell you. You were always good at spying and sneaking out. That was your talent and most of the time, you were always successful in your own little personal agendas. Your parents knew that too. So, you figured they wouldn’t lie to you, knowing that you would eventually find out anyway.
There was that one time that your parents had caught you sneaking out of the Omega Point base back in the Spring. They were furious over it that you were stuck for two weeks in your room because they didn’t want you going anywhere. You didn’t care though because you had an interesting time that night. You had sneaked out and pretended that you were part of the little gathering of The Reestablishment’s leaders. You were always so curious as to what they did. Curious how great their life must be in that part of Sector 45.
And you were right.
Because you saw everything. They had everything they wanted as if the world didn’t burn down and everyone was living in this hell. Most civilians could barely find any food to feed themselves and here they were living like Kings and Queens.
“Are you lost?”
His voice made you jump. You were at the back of the building, looking through the window and trying to see what was happening inside. You never had anyone caught you before. Ever. Not even your parents when you were spying or sneaking out and here he was, standing over you. As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was staring at you with some sort of curiosity. Some trespasser, he probably thought. You were, but that didn’t matter because you were supposed to act like you were part of this gathering. He was in uniform and on his uniform it said, “Sector 45 CCR, A. Warner.” Your eyes shifted at the name, and you knew then that you had to make up some excuse to convince him that you belong in this little gathering.
“Um… no.” You shook your head, straightening your clothes. “Just trying to get some air.”
His emerald eyes studied you as you stood there with your back straight, acting like there was confidence radiating out of you. However, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was running a million miles per hour, and you were terrified that he would be able to hear it. He furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder to see the dark clouds blanketing the city. You knew he was wondering what you meant by that because it had been a while since the world had an actual fresh air. It made you even terrified that he probably realized that you weren’t part of this little party.
“Hm…” His eyes studied you from top to bottom. “Which continent are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”
Your heart was gone. You couldn’t feel it anymore as you tried to make up some excuse but thankfully, he was called by another soldier from a distance. You immediately hid behind the post, so you wouldn’t be seen and just like that, he walked away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched him enter the building with the soldier.
Sneaking inside the building, you made sure everyone else was busy and made your way up the stairs. You didn’t bother taking the elevator since you might bump into some more people and then, you were met with a long hallway, bright fluorescent lights illuminating it.
It made you feel like you were in a hospital.
Walking down the hall, you found the Supreme Commander’s office. The name Anderson was on the door and quietly, you turned the knob and peered your head behind the door. It was empty and dark. You looked around the office and went around the desk to find some sort of evidence to prove that The Reestablishment was doing something wrong.
Something that could help Omega Point take down The Reestablishment once and for all.
Letting out a sigh, you pulled one of the drawers, but it was locked. All of them needed a key. Looking through all the files on his desk, you couldn’t find anything interesting nor the key to open up one of the drawers. You figured maybe he kept it safe with him. Hearing footsteps coming from down the hall, you walked out of the office and rapidly walked back to the fire escape staircase only to be met with the same man again.
He furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “What are you doing here?”
You sighed, “Can’t find the bathroom. Where is it?”
He turned his head to the side and gave you a side eye before walking back down the stairs and led you down onto another long hallway.
“Thanks.” You murmured and entered the restroom.
You waited a few minutes until you saw the shadow of his footsteps disappear. Unlocking the door, you looked both ways before finding the exit and out the back of the building again. You quietly hid from the soldiers that were on the lookout until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and you were pulled into a dark alley.
Your fight and flight mode immediately turned on as you struggled in the person’s grip. You tried to reach for your knife in your back pocket, but the person was pulling you in their arms too quickly. Using your elbow, you jabbed the person right on their stomach as they groaned softly from the pain. You told your legs to start running as fast as you could, but you felt their hand grab your wrist and immediately, all you felt was the stinging pain on your back by the brick wall.
The light from the post illuminated his face, and you saw that it was the same man you met earlier. He pinned you against the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth, and his green eyes were wide. He quietly held up his index finger in front of his lips to let you know to be quiet as you both heard footsteps from a soldier from a distance.
He pulled you away from the light and hid you from the dark corner until the soldier had disappeared.
“Who are you?!” You whispered, anger in your voice. “Why do you keep following me?!”
An amused soft laugh escaped from him as his face leaned closer to yours.
“I should be asking you that, love.” He whispered. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking around the building?”
You swallowed every emotion that was washing over you right now. Your heart was beating a thousand miles as you stared into his eyes. They were icy pale green. His features were sharp, and he looked sort of beautiful. Almost unreal.
“You could answer me or I could get one of the soldiers to throw you out or worse.” He added, his voice was cold and stern, his spare hand finding his gun on his holster.
Your eyes followed where his hand was, and you kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t risk putting your parents and all your friends in danger because of one mistake that you made. Maybe you should have listened to your parents. Maybe you should have stayed back in the base and all of this wouldn’t have happened. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes studied you and his brows furrowed.
“I’m a nobody.” You finally replied, your voice stuttering. “J..Just lost.”
His eyes kept studying you until he took a step back and finally let go of you. You exhaled a sharp breath and looked at him for a moment. He looked distressed. He looked lonely. You didn’t really understand how you knew that, but you could see it in his eyes.
“Go before someone sees you.” He said, his head hung low.
You were ready to run because you should be, right? So, how come your legs weren’t moving? How come you couldn’t bear to leave him like that?
“Y… You’re just gonna let me go?” You asked.
He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours. It made your heart beat faster again as he said, “Be glad I’m irritated tonight. I don’t have the energy to take you into a prison cell or kill you and make a whole scene.”
Taking a few steps back, you looked over your shoulder one more time before running off. That was when you were met with your parents when you arrived back at the base. They were furious. Asking you a bunch of different questions as to where you were and how dare you leave the base without letting anyone know. Your best friend, Kenji, was standing behind them. A disappointed look in his eyes as they sent you to your room and told you that you were going to be watched for the next two weeks to make sure you weren’t going to make any more reckless decisions.
Then, after two weeks passed, you found yourself outside the Omega Point base. You were walking near the water, your thoughts pinwheeling and wondering how long were you all going to hide? You kept asking if this was how the world was going to be until you died. Kept wondering how much more damage The Reestablishment would do until everything would fall apart even more. Wondering what else they did underneath all those metal tall buildings. What decisions and plans were they planning?
Then, you felt that familiar touch grab you by the wrist. You let out a small shriek as you were pulled in the nearby forest—at least what was left of it—
“You.” Your eyes widened.
You looked around for soldiers but there was no sign of them. You had told Kenji what happened that night. You described the soldier as someone who looked unreal, beautiful and part of you thought you were dreaming that night.
“I don’t know, maybe there’s something in the air at their base.” You lightly teased.
“You said his uniform said CCR A. Warner?” Kenji’s eyes widened.
“Yes, why?”
You saw the worry that washed over Kenji’s face as he said, “That’s Anderson’s son. Warner is the most brutal and heartless Chief Commander in Sector 45. Jesus Christ, Princess!”
Anderson’s son? You knew about him, but you hadn't realized it was him, especially with the fact that his name was Warner, not Anderson.
“Brutal and heartless?” You tilted your head. “Then… Then why’d he let me go that easily?”
“I don’t know but there’s something wrong about it. You need to be more careful! You don't know his agenda, and you might end up dead next time.”
Warner.
Kenji’s words echoed in your head as you shook your wrist from his grip. You didn’t know what it was but there was something in his eyes today. Some concern he was feeling. If he was so heartless like Kenji said then why could you see the human inside him?
The son of the Supreme Commander of Sector 45. Warner was the Chief Commander and Regent. The man that the soldiers were afraid of because of how cold he was. He could kill someone in a heartbeat and not have an emotion over it. How much of a robot he was as Kenji told you. You still couldn’t understand why he let you go unharmed. How he didn’t kill you for spying. You didn’t understand one bit of it.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice was low and ice cold. “Are you here to kill me? If so, just do it now—”
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes stared at the ground. “I know who you are.”
He took your hand and dragged you further in the forest until you both saw the lake. He dropped your hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in front of you. He whispered your name, and you wondered how he knew that. Although, knowing that he was the son of the Supreme Commander, you realized they probably kept files of everyone.
“You’re part of Omega Point.” He stated, his tracks stopped and he stood in front of you.
You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If he knew about you, then he probably would have known all the members of Omega Point. Kenji, Castle, you… your parents.
Maybe you knew nothing of this world after all. Knew nothing about what The Reestablishment did nor what Castle and your parents knew about the new world.
“H…How did you—” You shook your head.
“Doesn’t matter.” He took a step closer. “My father…” He took a deep breath. “I think…he’s killing… children. Killing certain people.”
You didn’t say a word. That revelation was a shock to you, but you knew there was something going on. You knew it was more than just taking over the world. More than just building up a new world, new rules and destroying every bit of history from the past.
“That was why you were there, weren’t you?” Warner asked, his voice was stern. “You knew about this?”
“No.” You said. “I… I knew there’s something more going on. I was there to find evidence, but I wasn’t able to.”
“Well, I did.” Warner replied, his head shaking. “I think…”
“I…I’m sorry.” That was all you could manage.
You didn’t exactly understand why he was here. Why was he telling you all of this? What did he want from you? Why did he risk coming out here to talk to you?
“I’m not.” He said. “I knew my father was vile… A psychopath.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to help take him down.” His green eyes went dark as it met yours. “I want to kill him.”
A small gasp escaped your lips as he took another step forward towards you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Warner looked up and stared at something behind you.
“Meet me in that cabin at night.” He murmured. “I will look for more information and evidence that could help.”
You followed his eyes and saw the cabin just not too far. It was behind the tall redwood trees. This forest was the only thing left of this broken world, and you didn’t even realize there was a cabin right there. It was too hidden.
“But—”
But before you could say anything Warner had already left. You were left in the middle of the woods with your thoughts again. In the beginning, you were terrified to actually go through and believe what Warner said. You didn’t know him and he was part of The Reestablishment. How would you know that you could trust him? How do you know that he wasn’t playing a double agent?
When you had sneaked out that night to the cabin, you brought yourself a few weapons in your pocket just in case you needed them. You couldn't bear to let Kenji know what you were doing. At least until you were sure about all of this.
Looking around the forest, you saw no sign of other soldiers, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just hiding. Entering the cabin quietly, you found Warner sitting by the fireplace. He had documents laid out all over the coffee table and wooden floors. You closed the door behind you and studied the image in front of you. For a moment, you slowly started to believe what he told you. He did brought the evidence. He brought every document he could find in his father’s office.
“What are these?” You asked, settling yourself on the floor next to him.
You couldn’t help but notice that he was in his suit. Did this man ever wore anything else other than his uniform and suits? Your eyes then studied his blond hair, his long golden lashes and his eyes that were focused on the papers in front of him.
“Records of the children that mysteriously disappeared.” He said, gazing up at you. “But there was no evidence why they disappeared.”
He gazed up at you, green eyes staring into yours. It was almost enchanting that you had to look away and focus your attention on the papers in front of you. Both of you spent the night looking through the documents, but you both couldn’t seem to find anything. They were all just records saying that they either died from an accident or they disappeared out of nowhere. No hard evidence at all.
Then, another night came and another and another. Kenji started noticing your late night routine until you finally told him the truth.
“Are you insane?!” He whisper-yelled in the middle of the hall. “This is not a good idea, Princess.”
“Just please trust me?” You pleaded. “Just please cover for me if my parents or Castle look for me.”
“Nuh uh!” Kenji shook his head. “I’m not going to agree with your little suicidal plan with Warner.”
“Kenji, he could be the key to finding all these records. I’ve seen it. Please just give us more time.”
Kenji stared at you for a moment before exhaling a sharp breath and said, “I hope you realized who you are talking to every night in that secluded cabin.”
A smile creeped up on your face as you pulled your best friend into a hug and thanked him. Then, a week of meeting with Warner had become two weeks then one month. Then, two months until Spring ended and Summer finally came. Not that it mattered since the weather stayed the same. It was rainy, dark and gloomy.
The more you spent with Warner, the more you saw a different side of him. His walls were slowly unraveling in front of you, but it wasn’t to the point where you knew his personal secrets. His personal life. You have never seen him smile, he was always so serious. But he had told you about his father and how his mother died. That was the closest personal thing you have known about him.
It was awful.
His father tortured her and gave her drugs until she turned into almost like a wild animal. Warner mentioned how his mother’s ability was that no one could touch her, but her power was so strong that she could feel the pain of her own skin and suffered until she died from it. You were slowly understanding why he hated his father and why he was rebelling against him.
At least you thought you understood all of it until that one night…
“Here.” He handed you a box..
“What is this?” You furrowed your brows and opened up the box.
Inside, there was wrapping paper and once you had ripped it open, you found a green dress, almost the same color as his eyes. You held up the dress in front of you and then stared at him, confused.
“What is this for?” You asked.
“You don’t like it?” He grabbed the dress from your hands. “I’ll change it. I don’t know your favorite color.”
He couldn’t even look at you. He was staring at the dress in his hands and then, you realized something. The dress was the most obvious one out of all the things he brought every time you met up with him. It was food at the beginning. Then, a nice blanket. Told you that it gets cold at night in the cabin, and it annoyed him to see you shivering all night. Then, you found some fancy soaps in the bathroom, which you never understood because you never took a shower in the cabin. Then, the cabin was slowly being decorated nicely. You thought maybe he was trying to make it a lot cozier.
But no.
He was doing all of this for you. He was giving you gifts, but why?
“No,” you took the dress back from his hands. “I like it. Thanks.”
You studied the dress in your hands for a moment then, you felt his presence in front of you. Suddenly, you felt the air between the two of you shift. His fingers found a strand of hair from your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You gazed up at him through your lashes and found his face inches from yours.
You couldn’t breathe.
His fingers brushed gently against your cheek, and a small gasp escaped your lips. He never touched you. He was always distant even when he was sitting next to you. It was almost like there was a wall between the two of you but the moment you felt his touch, all of a sudden, you saw that wall crack.
“You’d look beautiful in that dress.” He whispered.
The air in your lungs suddenly gave out. The wall he had put up between the two of you had split open.
“Warner, I… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your words stuttered, you could barely find your voice.
His hands then cupped your face as his green eyes were staring deep into yours. His eyes sparkled, and you were a glass almost breaking into pieces. His touch was the only thing that was keeping you glued together for a moment. He held your face like you were something so delicate that he was afraid he'd break you if he wasn’t careful.
“Do you know how much it’s killing me that I can’t hold you?” He murmured. “How much it’s killing me that I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day?”
“Y…You can’t stop thinking about me?”
His thumb traced the outline of your lips before his nose grazed against yours. You held your breath as you closed your eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off your body and all of a sudden, you couldn’t think straight anymore.
“I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, these lips…” his thumb softly touched your lips, almost like a feather-like touch. “...your voice—god, your voice.”
His hand slipped at the back of your head before he said, “I don’t want to scare you away.”
Your breath hitched, “You’re not.”
His sharp features were right in front of you, and his eyes studied each detail of you. You forgot what it was like to breathe. Time has stopped. Time froze the moment he pressed his lips against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted so sweet. He tasted like peppermint. He kissed you hungrily and desperately like he has been waiting for this for a long time. He pulled you close and pressed your body against his. Your hands slid on his chest, and you could feel his chest heaving as he let his lips trailed down your jawline and down your neck.
You were gone.
You didn’t know how you were still alive because you had stopped breathing a long time ago. His kisses sent shivers down your body. It was something you never experienced before. Never felt before. It was so soft and at the same time, it was something so special. A luxury that you never tasted before.
Warner scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed. For a moment, he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were breathless, and his fingers were caressing your face softly.
“I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He whispered.
You gazed up at him, breathless. “Then, kiss me again.” You murmured before pulling him close to you again.
His lips kissed down your neck and down to your collarbone as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here anymore. His lips trailed down to your chest, and his hand gripped your hips as you ran your fingers through his hair. A jar of butterflies exploded in your stomach and fluttered all over your body.
“Warner.” You whispered.
“Yes, love?” He gazed up at you.
“Are… Are you sure about this?”
Your heart was drumming hard in your chest and you swore, he could hear it. There was nothing more you wanted than this, but you knew how complicated the situation was. You didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. You didn’t want to wake up and find out that he regretted it. Most of all, you wanted to trust him. Believe him that this was real.
“I’ve never wanted anything more than this, love.” He said. “You’re consuming every part of my soul, and I can’t explain why.”
You slid your hand behind his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. Your heart was pounding hard, and you felt the world stopped around you.
It was just you and him.
You fumbled through the buttons of his shirt and immediately slid it over his broad shoulders. Pulling away from the kiss, you gazed down at his body, your fingers ran down his bare skin and you heard a breathless gasp escape his lips. Your fingers ran through the hills and curves of his muscles on his stomach. Then, you saw his tattoo that sits right on the bottom of his torso. Just below his hip bone.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
Your fingers grazed over the words, and you saw Warner’s chest went up and down as you continued to touch him.
“So… beautiful.” You whispered.
However, you didn’t know what happened or what you said to him because you saw something shifted inside him. His eyes had gone dimmed and he immediately pulled away from you. You furrowed your brows and questions started running in your mind.
“What is it?” You asked.
“I…” He shook his head.
You were confused. You watched as he repeatedly shook his head. He looked embarrassed. He got up from the bed and so did you. He kept taking a step back, and he looked jittery.
You never saw him like this before.
“Warner…” You took a step forward.
You wanted to reach for him, but he was pulling away from you, and you didn’t understand why. You thought this was what he wanted.
“I’m not…” His voice stuttered.
Then, when he bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, a gasp escaped your lips. Immediately, you walked towards him. You hesitated to touch him, but you saw it. You saw all of it.
Scars.
His back was covered with them. Right on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, there was also a tattoo that said:
IGNITE.
“W—What happened?” You asked, your fingers finally grazing over the scarred skin of his back.
He winced from your touch as he turned around to face you. His face looked like he was in pain as he stared at you for a moment.
“It’s repulsive, I know.” He said, sliding his shirt back in his body. “They’re birthday gifts from my father from when I was five until I was eighteen.”
You couldn’t help but clamped over a hand on your mouth, another gasp escaping from you. You felt the tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. Warner couldn’t even look at you. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall.
“I’m not beautiful, love.” He murmured. “I’m repulsive, and I’ve killed people before. Tortured them…”
You were frozen for a moment. Trying to comprehend everything that you just learned. You knew his father was vile and a psychopath but the thought of Aaron having to go through that kind of abuse? The thought of him being trained by his father to kill people? Anger washed over you. Turning to face him, you walked across the room and cupped his face in your hands, letting his green eyes find yours.
“You’re not repulsive, and I’m not redacting my statement.” You said sternly.
There wasn’t anything else that you needed to say to convince him to believe you because he was now cupping your face in his hands, his emerald eyes sparkling. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears as he pulled you in for another kiss. A hungry and desperate one but at the same time, it was all so soft like cotton candy. You slid his shirt away from his shoulders again as he carried you to the bed and towered over you. He was breathless as he kissed down your body, and you swore the room started to spin.
You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven was like. If this was it. If you finally died and went to heaven. If you did, it was peaceful. Quiet. The only one that was looking at you was this man with piercing green eyes and leaving you soft feathered kisses all over your body like you were something new. Like he had never had something like this in his life, and he was afraid that he'd lose it if he didn’t hold on to it tightly.
Your thoughts were gone as soon as you felt him unzipping your pants. The rest of your clothes were on the floor, and you were lying naked in front of him. You felt the blood rushed to your face as he studied you, a small smile lingering on his lips.
“So enchanting.” He whispered before pressing his face on your neck and leaving soft kisses on your skin.
“I think…” He breathed heavily. “...my heart has exploded a million times.”
You smiled softly and cupped his face, looking right at him. You have never known this kind of look before. You have never seen anyone look at you like this before. Repeating the words that Warner just told you, you couldn’t help but think about how your heart also exploded a million times because this…
This was everything.
Being with him was like a safe bubble that you wished you never wanted to leave. If you were asked, you would stay in this cabin forever. You didn’t care about anything else. You just wanted to be with him everyday and that was how it went for the next few weeks. You sneaked out of the base and saw Warner almost every night. It was an escape from this cruel world. A happiness you never knew existed but time was never enough.
It was always never enough.
You always found yourself going back to the base in the early mornings, hoping you wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the perfect time since everyone would be asleep and the streets were empty during those hours.
“You’re late.”
You stopped in your tracks right before entering your room and turned around to find Kenji standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Sometimes you hated the fact that his power was invisibility because this man always appeared out of nowhere.
“Only five minutes late.” You corrected him.
“I don’t like this, Princess.” Kenji said.
You looked around to make sure no one was around before pulling Kenji inside your room and let out a sigh.
“Please, Kenji.” You murmured. “I do appreciate you covering for me every night but please understand that this is important to me.”
“Important?” Kenji raised his brow. “You’re meeting up with Warner. Anderson’s son. You know, the one who made this whole shit show of a world in the first place? The one we’re trying to take down?”
“I know, I know.” You raised a hand up to stop him. “But he isn’t like that. He understands what we do, and he wants to help.”
Kenji let out a scoff. “How sure are you that he can be trusted?”
“Because I know.” Your eyes were pleading for him to understand.
“How sure are you that he isn’t using you just to get information about us too?”
“Because he also hates his father and besides, we haven’t talked about that in a while.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered Warner for a moment.
Kenji was suddenly all scrunched up in disgust as he shook his head. “Ew. That’s gross. Don’t ever say that again to me.”
“Just please, trust me? We will figure this all out soon. He’s trying.”
Kenji let out a sigh and nodded his head. “Just be careful out there. It’s dangerous and honestly, I don’t like the fact that you are running around late at night out there.”
“Please,” You said, holding back from rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself, Kenji.”
“I know you can but still.”
You laughed softly. You were grateful for Kenji and besides the fact that you knew he wasn’t really agreeing with this whole thing, you were still glad that he always understood you and never doubted you.
“Whatever you say, Princess.” Kenji said before walking out the door.
Flopping yourself on the bed, you exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kenji was right. Warner was Anderson’s son and even if he gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the base, you were terrified that one day his father might find out. Then, what was going to happen? It would risk everything.
Everyone.
***********
Taglist:
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#Aaron Warner#Aaron Warner x Reader#Aaron Warner x You#Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader#Aaron Warner Imagines#Aaron Warner Fics#Aaron Warner Fanfics#Shatter Me#Shatter Me Fics#Shatter Me Fanfics#Kenji Kishimoto#Tahereh Mafi#Kenji Kishimoto Fics#blairrwaldorfs#cruel summer
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Rainy days:
Thank you @jackharloww for the request. 💙
You woke up to the sound of rain aggressively hitting your window. It has been storming the last two days and you always slept better when it did.
The room was dark, cold, and peaceful. You turned toward where your husband was usually lying. It was empty, you felt around for your phone, wondering where he could be.
The brightness from your phone made you wince, it was only five in the morning. You decided to get out of bed to look for him. You put on your slippers and walked into the living room, he wasn’t there so you only assumed he was in his home studio.
“This man” you groaned to yourself, knowing just how much of a workaholic he truly is. You checked the light above the door, he had a light installed that would be turned on when he was recording and off if he wasn’t. Luckily, the light was off so you let yourself in.
He was sitting in the engineering chair Nickie usually sat in, his eyes were closed and he had headphones over both ears. You knew you were going to startle him no matter what you did so you sat on the couch behind him and waited for him to be done.
When he took the headphones off he looked up and saw you in the glass reflection, he jumped a little though he’d never admit it.
“Good morning” you giggled and he walked over to you, kissing you.
“What are you doing up?” He smiled, as he sat down beside you, opening his arm so you could lean against him.
“What are YOU doing up?” You poked his nose and he laughed.
“The weather is too bad for Nickie to drive over so I thought I’d listen to some stuff over again” he confessed.
“The album is perfect, stop tweaking it. You’re driving yourself crazy” you scolded as you zeroed in on the dark circles under his eyes.
“Myself? Or you?” He teased.
You sat up to face him, “Come cuddle. It’s cuddle weather and you’re in here instead.” You pouted, you weren’t seriously upset but you knew how to push his buttons.
“The bed is just cold and lonely without you” you joked.
“The bed huh?”
“And me! I wanna cuddle my man” you confessed.
“I guess I can pencil cuddle time in” he joked and playfully rolled his eyes, letting out a soft chuckle. He stood up, motioning for you to jump up onto him.
“Say less” you laughed, jumping and wrapping your legs around his torso. “No more work today! Okay?” You looked up at him as he managed to carry you and somehow turn off the lights in the studio.
“Deal, but also” he laughed and you knew something ridiculous was coming.
“If I can’t work, you can’t wear pants.” He was smiling but you knew he was being 100% serious.
“Deal Harlow, deal” you laughed as the two of you made it back into the bedroom.
You followed his stipulation, taking your pajama pants off and quickly getting into bed. “Hurry, I’m cold now.”
He got into bed, laying face to face with you now. The room was dim but you could both still visible and make out one another’s features.
“You’re so beautiful” he leaned in to kiss you, your leg wrapped around his as you scooted closer to him.
“Me? What about you?”
“Men can’t be beautiful” he shyly laughed, intertwining his fingers with yours.
“My man can be” you giggled. “My man is beautiful and handsome and sexy too.”
“Stop it” he laughed, he always became bright red when you complimented him.
“I can tell your blushing even in the dark” you teased.
“Baby!” He laughed, “I’m going back to the studio!”
“Don’t make me tickle you” you threatened and he gasped making you break out into a giggle fit.
He pulled you closer again, realizing your arms were cold. “C’mere, you really are freezing” he pulled the blanket over your shoulders and made sure he was cuddling you still.
“Because someone won’t let me wear pants.”
“Yeah because you don’t need pants when you have me” he softly pulled you so that you’d be laying on top of him.
“Oh my gosh, you’re like a human heater” You laughed and he did too, which made you bounce up and down making the two of you laugh even harder.
“I love you so much” you scooted up, giving him a kiss.
“I love you too” he wrapped his arms around you, resting them against your butt and eventually the two of you fell asleep.
#Jack Harlow#Jack Harlow x reader#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow blurb#jack harlow imagines#jack harlow concepts#Jackharloww
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angels and devils
angels and devils — prologue of the smell of roses
[ → part one ] [ series masterlist ] [ general masterlist ]
this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors do NOT interact!!
no real people are represented.
• lee know x female reader / changbin x female reader / lee know x female reader x changbin (NOT a love triangle), all other stray kids members are featured but not main characters.
• non idol au, bikers au, rivals to lovers au, small town au. inspired by sons of anarchy.
• word count: 4.9k (4091)
• warnings: mentions of all sorts of illegality; money laundering, drugs and weapons dealing. corruption and blackmail. a lot of drinking (often excessive). a lot of swearing and insulting. drug consumption (weed only). anger management problems. mental health issues (people are not quite sane). mentions of scars. mention of violence (stabbing). mention of pyromania.
It feels like the ground is opening up under your feet, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole. Once your father is gone, the Rose Garden will be yours.
That’s what you’ve wanted your whole life. For it to be yours, entirely, completely. Not to share it with someone else. Especially not them.
• taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr (send me an ask or write a comment if you want to be added!)
It’s a rainy day in the small town of Temperance.
The clouds are dense and dark, hovering over your head like omens. You don’t mind rain, not at all – in fact, you love those types of days when the air has a bitter feel to it, when the cold slides into your bones and the streets glisten. They are rare around here, where summer lingers all year around, where it’s always warm and heavy.
Although you especially like rain because it often means those fucking bikers are not out there all day with their rattling engines and arrogant smirks. They drive around like they own the place – and they do.
Everything in Temperance belongs to them.
The Vices Motorcycle Club.
You often wonder if they chose the town on purpose. If the Vices, decades ago, opened a map and chose it specifically for its name just to turn it into a joke. You don’t think so – from what you heard, many of the original members grew up here. Their children, too, and they run the club now. But still.
It’s almost too fucking ironic.
There is absolutely no temperance in this town. Who would expect moderation or discretion from a biker gang? From what you know, they deal in dirty money, weapons, drugs, and probably a shit ton of other illegal stuff. You don’t really care to know the details – you just make sure to stay away from them.
Most of your life, you’ve been able to. When you were little, your father made sure to keep you away from them, although you went to school with their children and so, grew up with them. It’s not the same when you’re five and playing in the sandbox.
In high school, if one of them told you I’ll tell my father, you just raised your middle finger.
You’re a Temperance girl. You’ve never left town, except for a few months of traveling once. It’s where you want to be. Running the shop is all you want to do with your life. You love the town. You know every street, every coffee place. Despite housing a motorcycle club, it’s a lovely place to live.
But it’s getting out of hand lately.
The Vices are everywhere.
They own half of the businesses, have their fingers inside all of the others’ pockets. They’re friends with the mayor. They have a deal with the police. You can’t go anywhere without seeing a trace of them, either by spying a leather vest or hearing one of their names. Your favorite pub, Rossi’s, even has a drink dedicated to them. Gluttony, of course.
Every bar, every warehouse, every street corner, it’s theirs.
Except your father’s shop.
The Rose Garden is your pride. It was opened by your maternal grandparents, passed down to your mother and father, and it will be yours when the time comes. It’s your favorite place in the world, filled to the brim with the smell of flowers. You grew up in this shop – you even took your first steps in it. It’s a part of you who are, and you’d never let anyone touch it. Especially not the Vices.
You’re so proud of your father for refusing to deal with them. What would a biker club want with a flower shop, anyway?
Not that they never asked – they came around a few years ago to ask for friendship. You were away, so you didn’t witness the conversation they had with your father, but he told you he had politely declined. Then again, the Vices had just started to extend their influence in town and many people were still resisting.
It has never been this bad. According to what your father told you, the original members had created the club for the sake of allyship, had provided protection, and used to run a few shady deals. But then their sons took over, and it changed. They had ambition. They wanted power.
They wanted revenge.
You don’t know the full story. Nobody does. All you know is that the original members dropped one by one. They had accidents. People were dying.
You’ll give the current Vices members that – nobody dies anymore. The town is safe. Under their control, but safe.
Still, you hate how they have seeped into every seam, inescapable, their names on everyone’s lips, their stupid logo everywhere you look.
A devil with angel wings.
According to your recent round-up, the Vices owned everyone, and your father was the only one left. Because of that, you knew it was a matter of time before they would come for a visit. You and your father never talked about it, but you just figured he would say no again. The Rose Garden is yours. It will never be theirs.
Over your fucking dead body.
The rain passes early in the morning, leading to a cloudy sky. You need to buy a few supplies for a special order, so you head to the hardware store. The place is quiet at this time of day, Seungmin giving you a nod from behind the counter. The store is his and his father’s – just like in your family. It’s not unusual for Temperance, but you and Seungmin have especially bonded. His parents are good friends with your father, so you spent a lot of time together during dinners playing video games.
Just like you, Seungmin is exactly where he wants to be. If you grew up around flowers, he did around tools, the smell of paint and the sound of chainsaws. Neither of you have ever wanted anything else.
You know the store like the back of your hand, so you head directly to the alley you need, crossing paths with a guy with broad shoulders and a baseball cap covering his orange hair. You’d know that signature leather cut anywhere. Vice. His name is Chris, and he dates a sweet girl with eyes like honey. What she sees in him, you’re not sure – he scares you.
You give him a dirty look – he just raises an eyebrow at you, not looking fazed in the slightest. A tattoo covers almost the entirety of his neck, chains and barbed wire enhancing a thin white scar instead of hiding it. He goes to the counter to pay, and Seungmin makes sure to stay calm and polite.
He doesn’t like them either – but his father had no choice but to get the Vices on his payroll. Bikers did not need flowers – but they needed tools. Seungmin is more careful than you. Not that he’s scared, but he’s worried about his mom. She is terrified, so Seungmin makes sure she never has to deal with them directly – which results in him working almost every day so she doesn’t have to. It makes your blood boil.
The sound of the bike engine starting outside irritates you, and you watch the Vice drive away under the drizzle with obvious disgust on your face.
“You’ll only get yourself into trouble, you know,” Seungmin tells you when you go back to the counter, placing your stuff on it.
You scoff. “What are they going to do, kill me?” Seungmin gives you a glare, and you falter slightly. “Come on. Even they wouldn’t get away with that.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them, that’s all,” he sighs, scanning your things. He grabs the pencil that he always keeps behind his ear to take note of something, and you wonder if he’s right.
Murder. Would they go that far?
You shudder when you realize you have no idea.
“I’m going to be careful, Min,” you say. “I just hate the way they prance around town like they own it.”
“But they do,” he underlines with a joyless smile. “Tab?”
You nod. It had become a nuisance for you to pay every time you come for the slightest thing, so you and Seungmin had agreed to put a tab in place, which you paid every month.
“But they’re so…. They’re so…”
“Y/N,” he tells you softly. “I know. I’m just saying. Be careful. The town is big enough for us to stay under their radar, but still.”
There is clear worry in his voice, and you give him a soft smile. “I promise.”
When you come out of the hardware store, after talking with Seungmin for a few minutes, the clouds have dispersed. No more rain, it seems – which bothers you a little. It’s only a short walk back to the flower shop, and you turn around your conversation with your friend in your head. You try to remember if you’ve ever heard anything about the Vices doing something truly horrible, but all you can think is dealing drugs and all sorts of things on the black market.
For some odd reason it bothers you, as if it would give you a really good excuse to profoundly hate them. They’re killers sounded like a pretty good one. But all you can think of is the sound of their bikes annoy the shit out of me and they make money selling guns – which is already pretty fucking awful. But you’re not sure they really use them, although a few months ago there was a rumor their leader had once stabbed someone repeatedly. That person probably didn’t deserve it, you convince yourself. Their leader looks like a real psycho after all.
Lee Minho. His face is all smugness and he looks at everyone like they’re cockroaches. Something in his eyes, in the way they move, rubs you the wrong way – like you’d say the wrong thing at the wrong time and he’d absolutely snap. Not that you’ve ever spent a lot of time in the same room as him – you’re pretty sure he doesn’t know you exist, which suits you – but it is a small town.
You close your eyes, trying to think about anything else, and just when you think you’ve succeeded, those fucking engines invade the air around you and pollute it. Your eyes search for the bikes, and you realize they are leaving parking spots. The flower shop’s. Your heart drops at the bottom of your stomach, and because of the shock you can only stare at them drive away. Once the sound fades, you break into a run despite your trembling legs.
Dad, you keep thinking. Please be fine.
Please, please, be fine.
When you enter the shop, breathless, you find your father in the workshop, sitting at his bench. He has removed his glasses, his face in his hands. He looks fine, but you can’t calm down.
“Dad!” you cry out, running to him. “Are you okay?”
He lifts his head. His eyes are dark, and you try to recognize the look on his face.
“Did they hurt you?” you ask, your voice shaking.
He shakes his head and then it hits you – shame. Disappointment. Resignation. “I’m fine, sprout.”
“What did they want with you?” you say, your eyes wide in fear, although you already know the answer.
Your father stands up slowly and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. His smile is one you hate to see. “I’m sorry, sprout. I’ve run out of times to say no,” he states.
“Dad, no.”
But he nods. “It’s time.”
“I fucking hate their fucking guts, Hyun.”
That night you stop by Rossi’s, the local pub and your favorite place to indulge in a drink or two. You don’t usually go on Monday nights because you work early the next day and there are always Vices around, but you feel like an exception had to be made.
The tall blond behind the bar chuckles at you. “Okay, Y/N. Maybe I should take that drink back.”
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, taking your glass in your hands to pull it close to your chest, away from his grasp. You squint your eyes at him.
“Just messing with you,” he says with a sigh. “But seriously, keep it down.”
He gives a nod towards the back of the bar, where a few Vices are sitting.
There’s three of them occupying a booth, another two playing pool.
Neck tattoo guy is there, his girlfriend – sorry, his old lady – curled around him.
You’ve learned, against your will, that there’s a hierarchy in a motorcycle club.
There’s the leader, the president.
The vice president.
Sergeant-at-arms, which is Chris.
The secretary, an older guy from the previous generation.
There are the regular members, the full patches, and then, the prospects. There’s one at Rossi’s tonight, his cut’s patch reading Prospect in big letters. His smile is wide, his laugh cheeky, and it clashes with his leather pants and ripped long-sleeved shirt. Felix. You know him a little, as he’s only a year younger than you. He transferred to Temperance Middle School when his family bought the local supermarket. He was always a little bit of a pyromaniac so it’s not really that much of a surprise he joined the Vices – but you wonder what precipitated him to do so recently.
Another one is sitting quietly, seemingly deep into his own thoughts. Him you know better. His name is Jisung and you were always in the same classes in school.
He has blue hair covering his eyes and he never blinks.
The rest you’ve seen around. None are the leader, though.
The president.
What a pretentious title.
You glare at them. “They’re not listening to me,” you spit. “Like they care about us insects.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, but he does not insist. He knows you need your venting session, and he always obliges.
This is your favorite bar. You love the red booths, the wooden tables and counters, the music, and you love the drinks – enough to forgive it’s slowly becoming a major landmark for Vices. Once you felt so bitter you ordered a Gluttony just so you could spit in it, go outside, and throw it on the pavement.
You had been quite drunk that night.
“Hyunnie,” you moan, your head falling in your hands. “They can’t take the Rose Garden. My father worked his whole life for that shop. So did my grandfather. So do I. It’s like, my legacy.”
Hyunjin gives you an understanding smile. “You don’t have a choice, Y/N. They’re not the kind of people you can keep saying no to. Besides, they’re really not that bad…”
You scoff, gulping a big sip of your drink, but Hyunjin is not laughing. And when he’s serious, he’s serious.
Hyunjin is yet another person you’ve known for long. Too long, maybe. With Seungmin, he’s the only one you missed when you were away.
You used to have the biggest crush on Hyunjin in high school and you really wanted him to be your first – your first everything – until the day, at a party, where he said you were like his little sister. That turned you off real fast.
He’s still one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Legs for days, eyes like dark oceans, the softest looking hair. You like to watch him work, his long fingers holding up bottles and making glasses dance. Before, when you were really drunk, you liked to flirt with him just to know how it felt, and sometimes he indulged you.
But Hyunjin has a girlfriend now. Damn lucky bastard.
She’s told you once over drinks that he’s a fucking delight in bed.
You nearly threw your vodka in her face out of jealousy but instead suggested you both smoke a joint so she can tell you everything – and she did.
You’ll remember that conversation for the rest of your life.
But aside from being a literal demi-god walking amongst mortals, Hyunjin is also your friend, and your favorite barman.
“I’m serious,” Hyunjin states. “They’re not going to take over your business. You’ll barely see them. They just take some money. In exchange, you get protection.”
“Against what?” you frown.
“You think a biker club doesn’t have enemies? It’s like, the whole concept.”
You pout. “I don’t want protection.”
“They’re not going to post a bodyguard in front of your door,” Hyunjin says, rolling his eyes. “They’re just going to make sure nobody bothers you.”
“What if they bother me?”
“Fuck’s sake, Y/N…”
Hyunjin rubs his temples and you sigh.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” he states. “Just don’t be stupid.”
You pull a face at him. This is the second time today you’ve heard something like that. Be careful, Seungmin told you. Don’t be stupid, Hyunjin says. If you were really petty you’d do the exact opposite just to get back at them.
You’re not that petty, but you’re not far.
You glance at the Vices in the back. They’re laughing and drinking in their stupid leather vests. Despite yourself you rack your brain trying to think of a way to get back at them. To bother them for once, see how they like it. But there is not really any way it doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, so you let it go.
For now.
You’re too preoccupied to really act out, anyway. Your father told you the Vices would be back in a few days to collect the first payment and confirm the arrangement. You intend to be there for every open hour and never leave your father’s side – you hold on to the possibility his decision can be reversed. If you can’t convince him, you’ll convince them. Or you’ll try.
It feels like the ground is opening up under your feet, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole. Once your father is gone, the Rose Garden will be yours.
That’s what you’ve wanted your whole life. For it to be yours, entirely, completely. Not to share it with someone else. Especially not them.
Near the end of your third drink, your head starts to spin, and you decide to head home. Fortunately, you live close to the bar, and walking will only take you a few minutes.
Outside, the sky has entirely cleared from clouds and you gaze at the deep blue. You decide to linger a little for a smoke – and that might be the only advantage you can find for the Vices to rule over your town. Not only is weed extremely easy to find, you can also smoke it freely. Even the police indulges, your friend assured you. But then again, you know Jeongin, and it’s no offence to him, but he isn’t really an example to follow on any aspect of life. How and why he became a cop, you have no clue. Not that he’s stupid or anything – he just has no authority whatsoever, is completely reckless and you’ve never seen him obey a single rule.
You light up the joint, inhaling slowly, letting the daze settle in your body. This will calm you down – and it will help you sleep, too. Otherwise, you’re pretty sure you’d lay all night with eyes wide open, plotting extorsion, kidnapping and murder.
“Can I get a hit?”
You blink a little hazily and stare at the guy talking to you. Jisung is not smiling and you can barely see his eyes behind the strands of his dark blue hair. He doesn’t look like someone who’s just asked you to share your joint – it’s more like he’s threatening you. If it weren’t for his cute, puffy cheeks, he’d be downright scary.
The light in his eyes.
Something’s not right in there.
But then again, he’s wearing a Vice cut, and Jisung has always been a little weird. He disappeared for a few years and reappeared sporting leather. If he was in jail or in a psych ward is still a mystery. For all you know, he went through both.
“Don’t you have your own?” you tell him.
“I forgot it,” he says with a shrug. He doesn’t blink. He never does.
“Too bad, then.” You snap back, taking a hit in front of him.
You’re playing with fire and you know it – and you don’t care. Jisung chuckles.
“Y/N,” he says. “You’re being a bit rude.”
“Jesus,” you sigh in annoyance. “Here, take it and go away.”
You hand him the joint, and he takes the hit with the ease of a guy who does this often. Clearly, it’s a habit he hasn’t let go of - you skipped class together a number of times in high school to smoke bad weed - but you don’t judge him, because neither have you.
“Thanks,” he says afterwards.
He puts his hands in his pockets and stands next to you.
“You want a drink?”
“I was heading home,” you say.
He moves suddenly, and his face is so close to yours you have to bite down a scream. Jisung has those eyes – and you don’t understand how a person can be so calm and restless at the same time. He’s from the same mold as his leader, that’s for sure. If there’s one that could’ve committed murder before, you think to yourself, it’s Jisung.
“You know,” he whispers, leaning towards you. You step back, your back against the wall, and Jisung’s hand comes to rest next to your head. He stares at you. He still doesn’t blink. “You should really watch what you say.”
For a second, you feel a hint of fear crawling up your veins.
Jisung smiles widely at you. “We hear everything. Even insects.”
He backs away from you and starts to walk away – but not before he barks out a laugh. You stare at him, terrified, confused, and maybe a little amused.
“It’s your day off, sprout. Just go home.”
You shake your head as you continue clipping the stems of a bouquet of daisies. “No. I’m staying here.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but you glare at him. “I’m not going home, Dad. No fucking way.”
He sighs deeply, shaking his head. As he walks back to the store front, you hear him whisper something about language. You just smirk, trying to focus on work. A few days have passed, and you know it’s only a matter of time before the Vices visit the shop. It’s probably even a matter of hours.
Still, you lose track of time as you always do – you’re rearranging the display near the window when the doorbell tinkles. You turn, expecting a client, but your words of welcome die in your mouth before they reach your lips.
He enters first.
Lee Minho.
He’s all in black. Shirt, jeans, boots.
They contrast with his neatly cut silver hair.
He has a scar on his face. It slits the tip of his right eyebrow and runs down close to his eye. It still looks fresh.
His patch reads President.
You would laugh, if only you could utter a single sound. Because Minho might be the president of the Vices, whom you hate, he emanates more charisma than ten guys put together. Something about him just makes you shut up.
He’s accompanied by two people. One is Jisung, who immediately goes to smell the flowers. The other, you’re not sure what his name is. He’s not from Temperance. You just know he’s Minho’s right hand – the vice president. You’ve only heard people calling him Vice – the Vice of Vices.
The guy is all muscles. He stares around him with wary eyes, and he looks like he’s always ready to jump at someone’s throat.
You’ve heard he has slight anger management issues, which only makes you want to poke at them to see how far you can go.
In high school, people called you Trouble.
Some still do.
“Good afternoon,” Minho states, leaning against the counter.
Your dad is standing behind it, visibly nervous and defensive, but he still smiles politely. “Good afternoon.”
Minho smacks his lips together. “Well, you know why we’re here, right? Let’s not waste anyone’s time.”
You’re pretty sure he hasn’t noticed you. Jisung has, because he comes to stand next to you calmly, as if to put himself between you and Minho if you were to jump at his throat. The Vice is staring at you from across the store, his arms crossed on his chest. You glance at him, spying tattoos on his hands that clearly continue under his sleeves. His fingers are covered, too, with ink and silver rings.
There is nothing in his eyes.
Just darkness.
“Right –” your dad stutters, and it takes everything from you not to say something. “Of course. Just – give me a second.”
Minho raises an eyebrow at him, visibly waiting. Your father’s hands are trembling as he opens the drawer under the cashier to take an envelope. Your hands are tightened into fists. You desperately want to say something, to stop this from happening, but you have no idea how. It’s like you’re stunned, and you hate yourself for it.
Minho takes the envelope, opens it, and takes out the pile of bills. You gulp. He licks his finger and starts to count, taking his time. You alternate between glaring at him and entering staring contests with the Vice.
“Let’s go over it one more time, huh?” Minho says when he’s done, tapping the bills on the counter before putting them in his inside pocket. “Just so we’re clear.”
As he spreads out the terms of the arrangement, you feel a warmth spread to your cheeks, anger rising in your throat. You’re squeezing your fists so hard they go numb. You have to do something. You have to say something.
Minho is in the middle of explaining something when the words escape your mouth, loud and full of rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The shop goes silent. Minho blinks, and slowly turns to you. You don’t falter because you’re looking at your father.
“Dad, you’re not seriously going to do this, are you? There is nothing in this for you. You’re just giving them money, it’s not an arrangement, it’s fucking blackmail!”
“Y/N…” your father sighs.
“No!” you cry out. “No way am I letting you do this. You promised.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
Your father’s voice is so full of despair, so full of shame, your anger bursts into flames. You see red, you see black – and you turn to Minho, pointing your finger at his chest. “This is your fault,” you sneer at him. “You think you’re on top of the fucking world, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer. He just looks at you in mild surprise and disinterest – and you’re too enraged to notice if he’s amused or getting angry, too. You don’t even care.
“I fucking hate your guts, you arrogant, corrupted, despisable bastard,” you spit at Minho.
Next to you, Jisung lets out a snort, but Minho barely reacts. He keeps staring at you – so does his Vice. They are not saying anything, and it makes you even more angry.
Be careful, Seungmin told you.
“You think you can treat people this way, and just get away with it? Maybe the others will let you, but I won’t.”
Don’t be stupid, Hyunjin said.
Fuck it.
You hold your head high, keeping your eyes in Minho’s. Finally, he blinks.
“Who are you?” he simply states.
Your father’s face has gone white. “I’m sorry. It’s my daughter, she’s…”
“Don’t you dare say I don’t know what I’m saying,” you growl at your father. “I know exactly what I’m saying, I don’t care who he is. He can’t take advantage of people like this. You fucking asshole.”
Minho does not flinch. “Your daughter, you say,” he calmly states. He’s talking to your father but still looking at you. Now that your anger has settled a little – it feels insanely good to let it all out – you can see his eyes are shining. Brightly.
He’s amused, and you just want to rip out his throat.
“What’s your name?” he finally asks you.
You scoff. “What’s it to you?”
“I like to know who I’m dealing with,” he says, taking a step towards you. The shop is not very big, and he’s not that close, but his energy still tramples yours.
You tighten your jaw. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, try again, buddy. I’m not going to play your little game.”
He chuckles. “A game? I didn’t know we were playing.”
You blink at him, feeling a fuse break in your brain. It’s your turn to take a step towards him. “What’s so fucking funny –”
You stop, because the second you move, so do Jisung and the Vice. The first takes your arm, the second seemingly ready to throw you on your ass.
You’re too busy staring at Minho, though. The room is silent and tense. He’s eyeing you up and down, a smug smile on his lips, and you do the same, except your face is tense with anger. After a few seconds, he lets out another chuckle.
“I’ll come back at a later time to finish our conversation, sir,” he says, addressing your father. “It seems like you have a few things to discuss with your daughter.”
You hold up his stare – you’d rather die than let him think he’s winning this – but he quickly turns away and walks out of the shop in a couple of steps. The Vice follows him, his face still stern, as if nothing happened. Jisung is the last to leave – not without grabbing a single flower from a bouquet, blue like his hair, and twirling it between his fingers as he leaves.
The door closes behind them. You’re too busy trying to calm down your anger to see him straddle their bikes and drive away. After a while, you hear your father sigh.
“What the hell did you just do, sprout?”
Hey everyone ♡ Since the response to the announcement was positive, I thought I’d give a little preview, and then I thought, why not a whole prologue? The parts are long enough for me to divide them a little. TT I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or reblog if you can, it really helps ♡ I can’t wait to publish more of this story I’ve been having so much fun writing it! Thank you again, take care ♡
#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz x y/n#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee know smut#changbin x you#changbin x reader#changbin x y/n#seo changbin x y/n#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin x you#seo changbin smut#changbin smut
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Meet Cute
Hello! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, but I got the motivation to write today. This is just a cute little story I came up with. I hope it’s enjoyable. Let me know if you would like to see more from these two.
Story information: about 1700 words, meet cute, soft!Harry, female reader, cozy.
***
Harry has always loved the atmosphere of a coffee shop. For him, it's the perfect mixture of chaos and calm that he thrives on. He loves to see the baristas working through the morning rush with candy coated voices and rushed feet. He knows they must be overwhelmed, and admires them for being so kind to him regardless. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them as they worked. They made art from coffee beans and milk.
He admits that he doesn't pay much attention to what is happening around him while he is there. He usually focuses on whatever it is he has brought to distract himself during the trip. Sometimes that was a book– whether poetry or a novel– and other times that was his laptop. He’s just there as a way to dissipate any stress he was dealing with, and is unlikely to socialize with anyone but the barista.
Today, he is in a very cheery mood. It’s Sunday, the objective best day of the week aside from Saturday, and his favorite cafe is having a sale on all holiday drinks. He usually wouldn’t come out in this type of weather. It's rainy and the ground under his feet is wetting his socks. He feels an ice cold droplet of water fall onto his neck and creep under his jacket. Another few fall onto his phone screen as he pulls it out to check the time. It’s 9:40. He picks up his pace in hopes of making it to the shop by 10.
As he takes the short walk, he is debating if cinnamon roll flavored coffee will really be as good as an actual cinnamon roll. He values every penny he makes, and doesn't want to drop five dollars on something that may just be overly sweet. This internal debate causes him to not pay much attention to the things surrounding him. Unfortunately, this results in him running straight into a briskly walking woman with large rolls of yarn in her arms.
Quite dramatically, the yarn falls from her arms and some of it unravels onto the dark, wet sidewalk. Harry’s heart rate instantly picks up as he jumps back from the woman.
“Oh no,” she groans. The speech comes as a long sigh, almost as if she has already been having a bad morning, and Harry just managed to make it worse.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Harry stammers. His eyes follow the woman as she bends down to collect the yarn. He grabs two rolls that had fallen by his shoes, one teetering on the edge of his sneaker. “Here, let me get that.”
The yarn is damp, but missed any puddles. Harry carefully puts the rolls on top of the ones already piled into the woman’s arms. They are the color scheme of a landscape; deep browns and greens, vibrant blues, and some other unassuming colors at the bottom.
“Thanks,” she replies gratefully. “I should have gotten bags, really, but they wanted me to pay for them at the store.”
“No, no. I just should have been more careful. I’m sorry your yarn is wet.”
“That’s alright! They will dry.” She lets out the first smile Harry sees from her. Her cheeks rise, making her eyes thinner, and some small blemishes at the corners of her mouth stretch. She’s beautiful, he thinks.
“I’m not sure they will in weather like this.”
A few beats of awkward silence pass. This is where they are meant to tell one another to have a good rest of their day and go their separate ways. She’ll go home, dry her yarn, and do whatever else it is she needs to do, and Harry will continue to the coffee shop, kicking himself for the embarrassment he caused for them both.
The woman can tell that Harry is shy. He speaks very softly and evenly, and is beat red from knocking into her. He put his hands into his pockets the moment they were not occupied with helping her. He does it as if that’s their home. He is not still on his feet, and has shifted a few times already since their abrupt meeting.
“Um,” Harry starts, “I’m going to get some coffee not far from here. Can I treat you to something from there as an apology?”
The woman’s eyebrows raise. People usually are not this kind to her in person.
“Oh, uh,” She says, thinking. “I guess that would be fine. I love coffee.”
“Great. Can I carry some of that for you?” He brings a pointed finger from his pocket and aims it at the yarn.
“No, it’s okay. You just lead the way.”
“Okay, will do. And, what’s your name?”
They begin to walk beside each other in the direction the woman was coming from. It’s pretty empty out, likely due to the rain.
“It’s y/n. And yours?”
“I’m Harry.”
Y/n nods in response and they walk to the coffee shop in comfortable silence. Occasionally y/n will make a sound as she jumps over a puddle or the yarn switches position, but other than that, the only noise is their shoes squishing and splashing as they walk.
They make it soon enough, and Harry indicates their arrival with a soft “Here it is.” It’s a store front right by the sidewalk, with windows that allow you to see right in.
He graciously holds the door open, and they take a seat at a corner table. They each slip off their jackets and shutter at the sudden warm air coming from the vents. It feels nice here, and smells like newly made coffee. Despite living in the area, y/n has never been here before.
“This is really nice,” She remarks. There are paintings on each wall, all from different artists. They are abstract, but somehow go together like a puzzle. She wonders to herself if someone collected them over many years. They look hand picked and are beautifully arranged. Most of the seats are upholstered booths, but surrounding some tables in the middle of the shop are shiny wooden chairs. Every mug in front of each guest is different. The shapes and colors vary, but they are all approximately the same size. The place has an odd, homey, atmosphere that is rarely seen anymore.
“It is,” Harry agrees. “I come here almost every week.”
A barista comes to their table, which y/n was not expecting. Usually, there’s a counter to go to.
They order their coffees, and Harry gives enough cash to pay for them both. Y/n thanks him. While he pays, she takes a few moments to take a look at her companion. His brown curly hair is large and falls over his forehead a bit. He is wearing chunky rings and a singular necklace with a charm she cannot make out. Some bracelets peek out from under his sweater, which is faded and argyle in pattern.
When they’re alone again, she starts the conversation, “So, what made you start coming here?”
“Originally I came because it was closest to my house, but then I fell in love with it. The paintings really stuck with me.”
“Yeah. I noticed them as soon as I walked in.”
“Mhm.” Harry thinks for a moment. “I find something different in them every time I come. Sometimes it's simple, like an animal, and other times I find a metaphor for what I’m feeling that day.”
“Wow. I’m not sure I'm analytical like that. I just kinda see…color.”
Harry laughs. It's soft, quiet, and lovely. “Most people feel that way. Think of it as a talent– something you acquire just like anything else. One day the colors will start turning into images.”
“Okay. I’ll keep practicing.”
“Mhm. It’ll come to you.” A beat passes. “So, what is all the yarn for if you don’t mind me asking?”
Y/n hasn’t known Harry for more than an hour, but she feels like everything he says is meaningful and well thought out. It’s like he has someone sitting at a typewriter in his brain feeding him the perfect words and cadence. She feels heard. He doesn’t seem rushed, or bored, or preoccupied. He’s just there for the coffee and a conversation.
“It’s for a project. I like to crochet.”
“Ah, that’s nice.” Y/n can tell he means it. “I can never get the hang of it, but sometimes I buy crochet blankets from online.”
“It’s not too hard once you learn the basics! Really, I could teach you.” Y/n wonders to herself why she is offering to help him. It just slipped out.
“That’s very sweet of you. I may take you up on that.”
The same barista comes and drops off two steaming mugs. Y/n’s is green with different kinds of mushrooms on it, and Harry’s says “Live life to the fullest” over a cloudy background. They both take a short sip.
“That's good!” Y/n enthuses.
“Isn’t it?” Harry replies. “They make great coffee here.”
A loud ring that Harry doesn’t recognize sounds from somewhere near him. His eyebrows close into the middle of his face.
“Oh, that’s my phone.” Y/n explains. She takes a moment to read the screen and clicks off the sound. “It’s my alarm. I need to go soon and feed my neighbor's cat. She’s in Chicago for the week.”
“Oh, alright,” Says Harry. “No problem. Would it be okay if I had your phone number? I would hate for this conversation to end in just a few minutes.”
“Yeah, sure. Hand me your phone and I’ll text myself.” Y/n’s smile takes over her face again, and Harry loves it. Something about her draws him in, and he would like to figure out what. It’s a day of firsts for him. He can’t remember the last time he has asked for someone’s number.
At the thought of parting ways, Harry is a bit sad, and he hopes that when he texts y/n in a careful measured time from now, she will respond.
He thinks he’ll start by asking about that crochet lesson.
***
Thank you for reading!! I enjoy talking to you all, so if you have any comments, or just want to talk about your day, my ask box is open. :)
#Harry Styles#fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#one direction imagines#one direction blurbs#one direction one shots#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#love on tour#harry blurb#harry imagine
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Rainy Days and Healing Breaths
Tyzula Week: Day 2 Vacation/Permanent
You can read it here on archive of our own as well
A/N: I'm late, but I had literally no motivation, and my family was over, so yeah. Anyways enjoy!
TW: Internalized Homophobia
The last time there had been a monsoon on Ember Island, there were still airbenders around. But now five years after the Hundred Year War ended, the skies were raining down on the island town with a vengeance.
Ty Lee and Azula were standing under the awning of the porch, at the royal beach house. They were both silent,
“The day after I get better.” Azula curses, her throat slightly raspy from her cold,
“I don’t suppose we can go for a swim?” Ty Lee jokes,
“Not unless you fancy drowning.” Azula spits, she had learned, mostly, how to control her anger, but on days like these it still found a way to root itself like an unsavory parasite. Ty Lee put a hand on her shoulder and Azula took a deep, calming breath.
“I suppose we could find something to do inside.” she seethed,
"That's the spirit, maybe we can even play Pai Sho." Ty Lee jokes, but Azula glowered in response,
"I'd rather take my chances with the ocean. If you really wanted to play Pai Sho, you should've brought Uncle."
"Is there something else you're mad about?" she asked noticing Azula’s change in mood,
"No, why would you ask that?" she asked, very clearly mad, Ty Lee stared at her, raising a single eyebrow,
"Let's just get changed first." Azula stated, and Ty Lee nodded in response, moving her hand to Azula’s back and Azula took this as a sign to take deep, calming breath,
“Yeah, let's do that.” she said, taking a breath, “We can find hundreds of things to do inside, right?”
Ty Lee nods and smiles brightly, before skipping inside. Azula followed with a small smile of her own, closing the door, wincing as the wind slammed it shut behind her. The Ember Island Beach House looked very different amidst a monsoon. Despite the fact it was the middle of the day the clouds blocked out any ray of sunshine, plunging the room into darkness. Ty Lee, graceful as ever, artfully navigated her way through the pitch-black room. Azula, not as graceful, bumped her hip against the sharp edge of a drawer. She hissed in pain,
“Azula? Are you ok?” Ty Lee called out,
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just- hit my hip against the table. How do you see anything in this darkness?” Azula responded,
“I don’t, speaking of which we need to light a lantern. Do you know where the lanterns are?” Ty Lee asks,
“Somewhere in the back of the house.” Azula said, lightning punctuating her sentence, followed by the sound of thunder,
“Well that’s ominous.” she sighed, “Come on, let’s go find those lanterns.”
Ty Lee takes Azula’s hand, tugging her along. The storage room is in the very back, the only entrance was a plain unassuming door. The last time Azula had been in the storage room of the beach house, she was six-year-old, and had got locked in after a game of hide-and-seek went wrong. The memory of banging on the metal doors until her hand turned red still sent shudders down her spine. She made sure to prop the door open with a box, so there wouldn’t be a repeat, especially since there was no one else visiting the beach house for months.
Shoving the boxes aside and coughing at the displaced dust, she lit a small flame illuminating her surroundings, bathing the room in an eerie glow,
“How long has it been since someone cleaned this place?” Ty Lee asked, coughing,
“Never, I think if we look hard enough we might find a beach towel that belonged to Roku or something.”
“Roku? The previous avatar? I thought this house belonged to the royal family.”
“It does, but Firelord Sozin invited Avatar Roku to come with him every summer, like I invited you this summer.” Azula answered, blowing some dust off a crate, “Apparently they were very close before Roku was announced as the Avatar and was sent to travel across the world.”
“Don’t you think it’s ironic that the person who was supposed to maintain balance within the world was friends with the person who threw the world out of balance?” Ty Lee wondered,
“I guess, I wondered how Avatar-” thunder interrupted her again, Azula sighs heavily, “Come on, we can talk about Firelord Sozin and Avatar Roku after we find the lanterns.”
Ty Lee agreed and ducked behind the crates. Azula cracked the crate top open. Nothing but fabric. She moved the crate to the floor, and cracked the next crate open, again nothing but some metal tools. This was going to take longer than she had originally thought. Azula cleared the dust from her throat.
Hands grabbed her from behind and Azula screamed bracing her feet against the strewn crates sending her and her attacker careening to the ground. After the ringing in her head stops, she recognizes the sound of laughter,
Azula sat upright facing a cackling Ty Lee.
“Azula-” she pauses to catch her breath, “Azula it’s just me. I found the lanterns.”
“Agni Ty Lee! You scared the hell out of me, couldn’t you have called out to me or something?” I curse,
“I didn’t think you would react like this!” She barely managed to control her laughter.
Azula was about to say something, but she realized she was just a few inches from Ty Lee’s face. If she leaned any further their noses would touch, and a little more their lips would touch. She was tempted to do it, but a small voice in the back of her mind warned her otherwise.
Do you really think she would ever reciprocate your feelings? You’re disgusting, even thinking about your friend in this way. She would never like a girl, much less a pathetic creature like you. Father was right, there is something truly wrong with you.
“Azula?” she snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Ty Lee’s voice,
“You ok? You zoned out for a second.” she asked, “Is everything alright? I didn’t hurt you during the fall did I?”
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Azula said, pushing herself away from Ty Lee, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
“Are you sure? You look a bit sick, maybe your cold isn’t fully gone-” Ty Lee was interrupted by the sound of a crashing crate, Azula had kicked it over in her haste, and sent all the metal tools flying everywhere,
“I’m fine- damn it, I’m sorry Ty Lee, let’s just light the lanterns and get out of here.” She was breathing hard now, her heart stuck in her throat and she was unable to think properly. What was she thinking, trying to kiss her best friend? She had already messed up their friendship once, she couldn’t risk messing it up again. Ty Lee would never forgive her if she kissed her, never look at her the same if she knew what Azula really felt towards her. A hand came to touch her forehead.
“I think you need to lie down, you're burning up.” Ty Lee noted, she looked worried now a crease forming between her brow. Azula ignored her by lighting up the lanterns and handing it to her,
“Let’s just get out of here. After all, we don't want to be locked in here, trust me it’s not fun.” she forced a laugh, Ty Lee didn’t look like she believed her but followed her out anyways.
“You know your therapist said that it was better to talk to people, rather than keep your emotions bottled up.” she said offhandedly, hanging up a lantern,
“If I told you, you would hate me.” Azula whispered, her back turned to Ty Lee, who heard this much to Azula’s dismay, and raised a single eyebrow,
“Try me.” she asked,
“Did Zuko or Sokka ever get back to you? Are they coming or not?” Azula asked, avoiding the topic,
“Azula, come on, you’re clearly upset about something, was it something I did? Something I said?”
“I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong.” Azula hissed,
“You keep saying that! You know I used to think you were a good liar-” Ty Lee was interrupted,
“Fine, do you want to know what’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I can’t stop thinking about you. What’s wrong is that back there in the storage closet I almost kissed you. What’s wrong is that even after all these years I’m still broken.” Azula shut her mouth as abruptly as she opened it. Ty Lee was staring at her with a look of confusion, and she was starting to regret ever opening her mouth,
“You wanted to kiss me?” she asked, almost quietly as if she wasn’t sure she heard properly, Azula had swallowed before answering,
“I know, I know you don’t have to tell me, it’s wrong and if you never want to talk to me again then- then I understand.” It took all her will-power to not let her emotion spill into her words,
“No- no that’s not what I meant. Spirits that’s not what I meant at all. I only meant-” Ty Lee took Azula’s hand, “Here let me show you instead.”
Ty Lee leaned closer, until their lips were touching, but just barely, light enough that Azula could pull away if she so chose to, but she didn’t instead leaning forward, closing her eyes as she did so. They stayed there for a long moment.
When they parted, Azula’s heart felt like it was doing one of Ty Lee’s complicated acrobatic routines.
“So you don’t hate me?” was all she could manage, Ty Lee laughed,
“No, of course not. In fact it’s the complete opposite.” she kissed her on the cheek, “I never said anything because I thought I might scare you off.”
“What does this mean for us then?” Azula asked,
“Whatever you want it to mean.” she answers with a shrug, “I was hoping it means that we start dating.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” she said with a smile,
“You know, I almost thought this was already a date.” When Azula looked at her in confusion Ty Lee continued, “I mean you did invite me to your family’s private beach house alone.”
“I was being a good friend!” Azula sputtered indignantly, Ty Lee nodded sagely,
“Of course, of course, in any case my first verdict as your girlfriend is to force you to rest, I don’t think this storm is doing any favors for your cold.” she said,
“I’m not sick anymore! I just have a scratchy throat.” Azula protested,
“And a fever. Come on.” Ty Lee entwined her fingers with Azula’s, pressing a third kiss to her cheek, effectively shutting her up. She let Ty Lee drag her to bed, feeling something swelling in chest she hadn’t felt before. Hope.
#tyzula week 2023#tyzula#azula#ty lee#ty lee x azula#azula x ty lee#Day 2: Vacation/Permanent#tw: internalized homophobia
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Genuinely think your one of the best peaky blinders writers out there. Do you think you could write something about little toddler Shelby and Tommy. Maybe little Shelby is out in the rain jumping in puddles? Love your work!!!
Thank you!! That’s so kind of you x
Puddles
Polly shakes her head in something of dismay as she holds a cup of tea snugly in her hands, keeping them warm against the winter chill that whips in the open window in front of her. “Mind your sister, Finn!” She calls out it, waiting until she got a “Yes auntie Pol!” yelled back to her from the 11 year old who had become somewhat accustomed to keeping a watchful eye over his only younger sibling. His answer seemed satisfaction enough for his aunt to nod her head and pull that window closed to maintain some semblance of heat in the house, but not enough for her to move away from said window to keep her own eye on the youngest Shelby sibling.
She stands cautionary. She knows better than to trust that Finn will do much to prevent his very clumsy five year old little sister from wandering off and getting herself hurt. (y/n) is notoriously like Thomas is all sorts of ways. She’s always getting into things she shouldn’t, hearing things she shouldn’t, seeing things she shouldn’t. She seems to sit back and observe a lot of things. They’re trying to grow her out of it.
Polly attributes it to the majority of her life being spent in a country torn by war. She was only nearly two when her brothers left, so naturally she didn’t understand much of what was going on. Everything was up in the air and now the war was over, it seemed l to the youngster that a war’s not just over when the fighting ends. It has also become clear that Tommy is her favourite sibling, so her similarities to him can often be attributed to her spending the most time with that brother.
Alas, in all her likeness to Tommy, she is much softer in manner than he is himself. Little (y/n) is like Tommy was when he was her age, incredibly inquisitive. Except softer. She chatters away to herself as she does things and though it takes her time to warm up to people, once she starts talking it’s hard to get her to stop for anything. She’s so kind and so very loving too, she laughs just like Tommy once did and it makes Polly’s heart happy deep down when that little girl falls asleep each night with a sweet little smile.
“Alright Pol?” Tommy greets as he comes through the back of the house from the betting shop to see his aunt standing at the window still. Polly nods, “Just watching to see if that bloody brother of yours is watching your sister like i told him to not five minutes ago.” She sighs as she takes another sip of her tea. Sure enough, Finn had not noticed his younger sister wandering off up the street subtly without even noticing in herself that she was getting further and further from the relative safety in proximity of her home and the brother who was supposed to be watching her. It seemed as though the puddles that filled certain uneven surfaces of the Watery Lane streets were more interesting, and finding more deep ones had stolen her full attention away from her surroundings. Tommy stands next to his aunt, leaning over slightly to spot his youngest sister slowly going further and further away than she should.
“Bloody hell,” Polly curses, sitting her tea down on the table beside her and reaching her hand to the handle of the window, “Don’t bother Pol,” Tommy interrupts her from opening the window fully and yelling for Finn to run and bring you back. Polly looks at him like he’s grown a second head, wondering if he’s completely lost his mind. He would usually have been the one giving Finn a stern word about making sure his sister was safe at all times. He just offered her a smile and says “I’ll get her.” simply, brushing past and grabbing his coat on the way. Polly furrows her eyebrows and watches as Tommy does a slight jog up the street until he nears (y/n) and then stops by her.
Her heart is suddenly warmed when the pair don’t turn back around to head home, but Tommy extends his hand to the little girl and she takes it gleefully to lead him on to find as many more puddles as they could before it got too rainy, cold and dark. He’s been so busy lately it had been a while since she had seen Tommy just be the brother of the little girl he loved so much.
Tommy relishes the feeling of his sisters little hand in his as they walk towards their uncles scrap yard, jumping in puddles along the way. She soaks the bottom of his trousers in dirty puddle water, but his heart sings with her giggles. “Tommy look!” She squeals, jumping in excitement as she spots a huge one near the window of the Garrison. She’s off a few feet before he can do anything other than open his mouth to speak. “Come on Tom!” She calls to him, “you’re so slow!” The tease draws laughter from him that only she can cause. He stops only for a moment in some form of mock shock. “Me?” He gasps, “Slow? Alright then miss speedy pants, wait there and i’ll race you.”
(y/n) does just that, waiting excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet for Tommy to reach her, both standing still a good few meters away from the puddle near the pub. The streets are pretty empty given the weather conditions and Tommy’s reputation had gone out the window of his thoughts long ago. “Okay then,” (y/n) breathes, “3...2...1!”
The pair take off at a run, the little girl stealing the lead immediately as Tommy runs slower than he probably ever has to allow the five year old to scuttle ahead faster than him. She giggles, elated as she knows she’s in front of her brother. “‘M gonna beat you Tom!” She puffs out, little boots splashing through the barren street as he laughs from behind her. “Not if i catch you first!” He calls back, speeding up his run as he heard the little girl screech in shock at the sound of him getting closer. He can see her putting her all into running from him, looking behind her over and over, laughing only when she realises he’s far enough behind her or screaming again if he’s getting close.
Inside the Garrison, Grace hears a child’s scream and what sounds very much like Tommy Shelby shouting that he’ll get her. It makes her immediately peer out the window just in time to see what most people in Small Health never expect from the gangster.
He runs up behind his little sister quickly, scooping her into his arms with complete ease as she squirms, squeals and giggles loudly. “Faster than me ey?” He snarls playfully, fingers digging softly into her sides to tickle hysterical laughter out of the girl. “No Tommy! Never!” She shrieks, knowing well enough agreeing with her brother was enough to stop his tickles and it clearly is as he places her gently back down on her feet, a sheepish grin overtaking her little features as she looks up at him in adoration. It was widely clear how much she loved her big brother.
Grace moves to the doorstep of the pub, arms crossed over her chest to keep her warm against the chill. “Having fun, Thomas?”
He whips around at the sound of her voice, subconsciously letting go of his sisters hand in surprise, almost as if he was always ready to put up a fight and defend her with everything he had within a moments notice just as reflex. She knows better than to assume he wouldn’t cut anyone who came near that little girl. “Suppose so,” he shrugs when he realises it’s just the bartender he had become rather intrigued by. “Thought i would-“
The sound of loud, proud giggling and the feeling of water hitting the backs of his trousers immediately makes him whip around again, spotting his small little sister grinning up at him like a cheshire cat and his very own devilish glint in her little blue eyes as she stands in the middle of the puddle after having splashed water up at him. “Oh you little buggar. I’ll get you for that.” He threatens, taking a moment to get over his shock as (y/n) laughs at him again but is joined this time by the light giggle of the Irish bartender. That little girl only widens her cheeky grin, her innocence still leaking through her cheeky nature as she looks behind her, knowing her brother would have to run through the huge puddle to get her.
“Only if you catch me first.”
And just like that, the hardened Birmingham gangster bids a quick goodbye to his bartender and is off running through puddles with a five year old little girl who very coincidentally melts his heart of stone down to a puddle each and every single day.
#tommy shelby x sister reader#tommy shelby x sister!reader#shelby sister reader#shelby!reader#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders#little shelby
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Home | k.mg
pairing ➳ businessman!mingyu x female!reader
genre ➳ strangers to lovers, romance, slice of life, angst, fluff, gets spicy at the end
word count ➳ 5.6k (apx)
warnings ➳ cursing, reader is really indecisive, heavy makeout, implications of sexual activity.
synopsis ➳ an attractive stranger visits your cabin for a week with whom you quickly bond, developing some strong feelings in the process; leaving you to wonder if he's worth leaving everything behind.
A/N: henlooo~ I finally posted! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I didn't really feel like writing for a while, hence the delay. I hope y'all enjoy this piece and please don't forget to leave some feedback! It really motivates me :)
A cool gust of wind blew by as you finished typing your last column, leaving a soothing feeling behind as you exhaled loudly. It was hard to finish this piece of writing for some reason, maybe because you lacked inspiration or maybe because your life had been monotonous for a while or simply, a mix of both. Closing your laptop you stretch your hands and legs, feeling somewhat productive. Humming a tune, you looked out the window to see a Lamborghini come to a halt at the entrance.
It piqued your interest because it's not often that people riding Lamborghini come in this cabin so genuinely you're interested in the visitor. You shifted in your chair, waiting for the man to come upstairs to the reception and sure enough a tall- really tall man dressed in a neatly pressed suit appears into your view, briskly walking towards the reception where Chan stood to greet him. You could not get a good look at his face as he moved around quickly, grabbing his small carry on and heading towards his cabin after the formalities.
You watched his tall frame walking away as you got up from your seat and moved towards Chan.
"Who is he?"
"Kim Mingyu," Chan explained, resting his arms on the reception table." A millionaire, owns a lot of companies. No wonder he looked familiar."
"Oh, really? How long is he staying?"
"He has booked for five days. Said he might extend his stay."
"I see."
"Why are you so curious though?" Chan raised a brow at you, tilting his head to a side.
"Nothing." You shrugged. "He just has different vibes than the other people that come here you know?"
Chan hummed in agreement.
-
There was never much visitors during the rainy season which was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because that meant the cabin was less hectic and curse because sometimes you are bound to get a bit too bored. You were helping yourself with a cup of tea to somewhat feel re-energised when your newest and the only guest for the week appeared from his cabin, padding through the corridor and stepping into the common kitchen area. You were taken aback for a moment before you composed yourself and smiled at your guest, "Good morning, Mr. Kim. May I help you with anything?"
"Mingyu, please," the tall male replied while scanning the kitchen area. "You're the owner right? What's the food arrangement here?"
"Well, our guests generally cook for themselves or order takeout. When there are many guests I sometimes do the cooking."
Nodding, he hummed before putting in a capsule in the cappuccino machine. You took a seat by the window, tea in your hand as you watched the male move around like he knew this place. Dressed in his pajamas and judging by the fluffy mess that his hair was you assumed he had a good night's sleep.
"I hope you had a pleasant night, Mr- Mingyu." You said to your guest who had whipped out a pan from the cupboard and was making omelette. "Yes, surprisingly so. Normally I have trouble falling asleep but I slept like a baby last night," he casually conversed as he prepared his breakfast.
You smiled, "Well, I'm glad to know that. If you need anything let my staffs or me know."
"Sure. Oh- I didn't get your name though." Mingyu turned to meet your eyes.
"___," you smiled.
"___, okay."
-
"This is gonna be a rainy week," Hoshi said from behind you as he stood holding a tub of fresh soil for the plants in the backyard of the cabin. You sat on your knees, eyeing the plants which needed their soil changed.
"Yeah? Well, good thing there isn't much guests now."
"I think there should be, I mean it's so pretty here during the rain too. People need to look at it themselves." Hoshi complained.
"Well, most people don't like going out in the rain. Pass me the soil, Hoshi. Let's get this finished before the shower starts."
Hoshi handed you the tub of soil as the sky above started growling, full of thick black clouds. It was gonna start raining soon.
Hoshi spoke, "Oh, Mr.Kim, Mingyu you know, asked me about the beach by the marketplace. Apparently he wants to visit so he asked me if I was free to show him around."
"And let me guess, you aren't?" You rolled your eyes.
Soonyoung pouted, "No! Well I would have given him a tour today if the weather wasn't so bad. And my friends are coming tomorrow, so I'll be busy then."
"Wait- you're friends are coming?" You turned, glaring at the boy who smiles sheepishly, "Oh! Um- I didn't tell you? Well they're only staying for a couple of days and it's not like they're staying for free."
"Well, make sure they clean after themselves okay? If I see them trashing all over the place like last time, I'm kicking you out with them." You gave him a pointed look.
"Okay okay," Hoshi rolled his eyes, puffing his cheeks. "Just- take the CEO out on a tour tomorrow for me okay? I haven't seen my friends in a long time."
"Alright, I will...if the weather is good which probably won't be." You sighed, gently removing the old soil.
Hoshi mused about Mingyu, "Bummer for him, he came in a wrong time. It's weird, no? We don't have such guests like him."
"Yeah," you hummed, focused on handling your roses.
-
Hoshi's friend, Seokmin and Seungkwan appeared early in the morning next day as you watched Hoshi vibrate from happiness when he hugged them. You smiled to yourself, laughing at at the antics of your staff as you saw him guide his friends into their cabin. The day was once again filled with dark clouds and raining which occurred every other hour. You and Chan cleaned up and completed some chores as the noon fell.
"Should I cook something up for them?" You wondered as Chan finished cleaning the common space of the first cabin.
"Nah, Seokmin hyung is cooking for them. He's a pretty good cook actually."
"Really? That's nice." You said pulling up a chair to sit down. "Are you gonna join them? Hoshi has been with his friends since they came."
"Yeah, probably. You should join us too."
"No, I think I'm gonna take a nap. I feel so tired."
"Alright."
You watched as Chan climbed down the stairs and stepped towards the second cabin where everyone else was. You were about to head to your room when the CEO, Mingyu appeared in the kitchen.
"Oh, hello."
"Hi."
"I haven't seen you since morning," you said watching as Mingyu poured himself a glass of water.
"Yeah, I woke up early today, went for a jog."
"Ah, I see."
"Couldn't go far though, the weather sucks you know." He said leaning against the kitchen top.
"Yeah. But I heard that it should get better from tomorrow. I could show you around if you want to. Hoshi, my staff, is going to busy for a while so I can guide you around."
"Really? That would be cool." Mingyu smiled. There was a small stretch of silence as you both listened to the rainfall before he spoke, "Have you had lunch?"
"Uh-no."
"Would you like to join me?" He asked "This is the longest time I've been alone and it feels a bit weird," he murmured more to himself than you.
"I mean- I don't mind," you shrugged. "Though I should be the one doing it."
"It's okay. People say I am a good cook," Mingyu smiled, his eyes crinkling.
"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see."
-
It was weird how comfortable you felt watching Mingyu being clumsy and bump into things as he prepared your meal. It felt like you've been doing this forever- like you've known him forever and you thought to yourself what was suddenly wrong with you. He made small talk as he cooked and it felt easy talking with him- almost impossible to believe that he was stranger. He was friendly and easy to get along with, definitely not a cold and grumpy businessman like you imagined him to be.
Mingyu grinned as he set down the food in front of you- chicken soup, rice and cheese omelette. His eyes twinkled excitedly as he watched you take a bite, waiting for you to say something.
"What are you? A part time chef or something?" You tried not to moan as you chewed because it was that good. Mingyu laughed- a sweet, shy laugh that had his canines showing and his eyes forming crescents. "Thank you. I learned from my mom. I like cooking for myself when I get the time which is not often," he smiled- almost sadly.
"Well, you can cook for me all you want as long as you're here because this is amazing!" You grinned at him, cheeks puffed with food.
Mingyu chuckled softly as he dug in and you both started eating. It felt nice, to talk to someone new and spend time with them, someone other than Chan or Hoshi. It was a nice change- a change you probably needed for a while.
"So...What brings you here?" You asked as you finished your food, setting down the spoon and leaning back into the chair. Mingyu who was still eating, looked at you with a perplexed expression so you spoke, "I mean...we don't generally have guests like you. And it's not even a good time to visit...so I was wondering what brought you here?"
"Guests like me? What does that mean?"
"I mean...rich, okay?" You fumbled, feeling awkward. Maybe you shouldn't have asked. "Like...there are fancier places to visit, you know..."
Mingyu smiled at your words for a moment before he deadpanned, "I'm running away."
"Running away?" You gasped, almost jumping from your seat, "From who? The cops?"
"It would have been better but no, my family," he said, his voice as serious as ever.
"Oh...I see," you fell quiet. It definitely wasn't the answer you expected. You both remained silent for a while as he started out the window, lost in thoughts. "It must have been really bad if you're hiding out here." You spoke softly.
"It has always been," he mumbled. "I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I desperately needed a break," he spoke more to himself than you. Instead of prodding further, you sat quietly, watching him and listening to his words. Seeing him now, he definitely looks troubled and you didn't exactly have the words to console him.
So you whispered, "Well, I hope it gets better."
-
Later that night, you find Hoshi and his friends and Chan preparing for a bonfire in the front yard of the cabin.
"Wow, you all are really having fun, no?" You said as you fisted your hands in your pockets from the chilly weather. The air was colder than other nights and everyone including you had put on some warm clothes.
"You wanna join us?" Seokmin asked as he stacked logs on top of each other.
"Nah, it's fine. You four carry on," you patted his back as you started walking back towards the cabin and saw Chan and Hoshi coming out with some boxes in their hands.
"Hey! There are marshmallows in the kitchen cabinet if you want.... nevermind," you finished as you saw beer cans and soju bottles in their hands.
"We're gonna get drunk baby!" Soonyoung yelled, grinning like a fool.
"Hyung, you look drunk already," Chan gave him a side look as they trudged towards the bonfire.
Laughing at their antics you climbed the stairs to the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for yourself. Holding the mug on one hand you knocked on the door to Mingyu's room, checking up on him since you haven't seen him since lunch.
The door opened revealing Mingyu in a baggy shirt and pajamas, his hair fluffy and messy.
"Hey," you chriped. "Wanted to check up on you. You wanna join the others in the bonfire?"
"Nah, I'm good. I've been watching them from the balcony." He smiled, his pointy canines showing.
"Oh, I see."
"You wanna come in? I've been getting lonely." He offered, moving away from the door to make space for you.
"Uh- I don't mind," you murmured, surprised that he asked you to come in. You tentatively stepped in and it was fair to say that you were surprised to see the room neat and pristine as most guests kept their room messy.
He ushered you into the balcony, which had a great view of your yard and the forest behind. You saw others laughing loudly as Soonyoung acted something out. Mingyu's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
"You didn't join them?"
"Nah, they can get too loud sometimes," you chuckled, taking a seat on the bench. You eyed an empty mug lying by, guessing that Mingyu already had his fill of hot chocolate.
Mingyu took a seat beside you, stretching his legs and sighing as he mused, "The view is great."
You hummed your agreement. It was indeed. Not only did you have the full view of your yard and the forest, but you could see a vast horizon of the night sky, some stars twinkling through the clouds.
"It's even more beautiful during summer. You can see so many stars that it feels unreal." You told him.
"Then I will try to visit again during summer," he smiled and you were not sure if he was serious or joking. However you replied with a smile, "You're always welcome."
A silence falls among you two after that but it's not uncomfortable, as you both watched the night grow and Soonyoung and his friends got louder.
"Things got really hard for me, you know," Mingyu started speaking, his voice soft as he stared at the mesh of trees ahead. You were somewhat surprised at his words, but you didn't interrupt, opting for him to continue.
"Running a million dollar company was never easy but...it suddenly was unbearable. My parents always interfered in my work and how I run the company but I managed through all of that, really...until..." Mingyu heaved a long sigh, abruptly stopping.
"Until?" You tentatively asked, peeking at him.
"They want me to get married. With the daughter of their business partner. A marriage of convenience, really."
Oh.
You fell silent, watching him as the moonlight dimly lit the side of his face. There wasn't enough light to see his face completely, but enough to see the curve of his face, his sharp jawline and the sad, lost look in his eyes. Your heart suddenly ached for him. Silently you patted his shoulder, conjuring up some words to console him.
"That's ...awful, really. I'm sorry."
"I've never been so mad in my whole life. Can't they just leave me alone? They treat me like a puppet, like my only job is to live for them. I'm so done. " He said, his hands forming fists.
There's a beat of silence as you quietly patted his back and watched your friends get wasted by the bonfire before he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry for dumping all these on you. I just couldn't hold them in you know-"
"It's really fine, Mingyu. I don't mind. It would be nice if I could actually help you," you sighed, retracting your hand.
"Trust me, you are," he said and you caught a smile on his face.
"I suppose you don't have a significant other? Someone you could talk to freely?"
He shook his head. "That is why I came here. Needed to get my thoughts together, away from them. Not to mention I don't remember the last time I went on a vacation."
"And have you got your thoughts together?"
"I think so, yeah." He shrugged.
"What are you gonna do?" You asked tilting your head.
"Stand strong in my ground, I guess. There's no way I'm marrying their business partner, I'd rather die. And if all else fails, I'm staying here. I'm sure you have some type of job for me, right?"
You laughed at his words, "Maybe. But I'm not sure about your skills, Mr. Kim."
"Oh I'm a fast learner, Miss ___."
You both grinned at each other.
That night when you went back to your room, your thoughts were plagued by Mingyu and you could swear you saw him in your dreams too.
-
The next morning is brighter and shinier; the sky relatively clear other than some light clouds. After getting dressed and checking up on Hoshi and Chan who were still sleeping, you trudged through the cabin and towards Mingyu's room, before knocking on it. A fully dressed Mingyu appeared, clad in a white polo and jeans, his hair styled messily. He looked effortlessly attractive, making your heart skipp a few beats.
Damn it, what was wrong with you?
"Hi," you almost missed a breath, your face flushed with warmth.
"Oh, hey. I was about to come to you. I believe you were to show me around." Mingyu grinned, his pointy canines showing.
"And that is what I'm here for, Mr. Kim."
"Great! Let's get going. We'll take my car."
-
After showing Mingyu around for a couple of hours, you both ended up at the beach by the marketplace, sitting on the sand next to each other. The weather was nice; not too hot, not too cold as a light breeze flew by occasionally. Though you could see some black clouds gathering above, it wasn't to rain until evening if the forecast was correct.
"This place is so pretty," Mingyu mused, making you smile.
"I know right. The weather is great too."
You both watched the waves crash to the shore, occasionally wetting your feet as you both relaxed on the sand. There was a silence, a comfortable one as you finished eating the corndog you bought from the market earlier with some groceries. As you finished the last bite, Mingyu turned to face you and asked, "Tell me about yourself."
"What?" A squeak of surprise escaped from you.
"I shared a lot about myself last night. It's only fair I get to know about you too."
"Well..." You pondered. "There isn't much to tell. I've a pretty dull life, unlike you."
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head, "Does the cabin belong to your parents? Is it like a family business type of thing?"
"No, not really," you smiled softly. "My parents are dead. The cabin belonged to my grandfather."
"Oh- I'm sorry."
"No it's okay. They passed away in an accident when I was a kid so I don't remember them much." You spoke, watching the sea, "My grandparents raised me. Growing up I've spent a lot of time in the cabin and when my grandfather retired he handed the job to me."
"Are they alive? Your grandparents?" He asked tentatively.
You shook your head, "Grandpa passed away a couple years ago and it's been a few months since grandma did too."
"I'm sorry, you must've been lonely," Mingyu offered, his voice soft.
You shrugged, "Yeah, like I said, nothing interesting going on in my life."
Mingyu hummed noncommittally and there was a few moments of silence before he spoke again, "Was managing the cabin something you have always wanted to do?"
You were quiet for a while as you thought over the question, "No...not really. I've just kept doing the job I was handed to. I haven't really thought about what I want to do."
"Well...I think you should hire a manager in your place and maybe...I don't come to the city and make friends, see what calls for you."
"Yeah, I've thought about it. But I don't know really." You murmured.
"Well, give it some thought. I could help you find a manager. In fact, I could help promote and upgrade your cabin if you'd let me. It'll be a good investment."
You laughed softly, not taking his words too seriously. He was just a guest. He was probably just being nice.
A gust of strong wind flew by, ruining your hair as it poked into your eyes and you laughed when your eyes landed on Mingyu.
"What?"
His hair was sticking in different directions because of the wind and you shook your head with a smile as you reached to pat the hairs back into place. It happened naturally, before you could stop yourself. For a moment your eyes meet as you quickly retract your hand, face heated.
Something was definitely wrong with you.
Mingyu's gaze stayed at you for a while; you could feel his intense eyes on you and you thought maybe he didn't like you touching him. Before your thoughts ran more rampant, he spoke.
"___?"
"Y-yes?"
"Do you...Do you have a home?"
"Home?" You were confused.
"Yes, home. Not like a real house but like a... person. Someone who makes you feel at ease, someone with whom you can be yourself without judgements, someone who keeps you cozy and safe and loved...like a home."
Somewhat taken aback by his words, you fell silent but their depth hit you and you found yourself thinking about it. Do you have a home?
No. No, you don't.
You shook your head, murmuring, "No."
Mingyu nodded taking his eyes off you.
"What about you?" You asked.
"Me neither."
You smiled, "Figures. Because if you had someone you wouldn't have run here but went to them."
Mingyu smiled, a sad smile gracing his lips. It was a somewhat bitter truth, he hadn't found his home no matter how much he looked for it. Maybe that's what he was doing wrong, looking desperately.
"Let's get going. It has started to rain," Your voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he felt small drops of water fall on his face. You reached your hand out to him and he took it, standing up. As you both jogged towards Mingyu's car, your hands remained connected, no one bothering to let go.
-
That night you had dinner with Mingyu again but this time it was you who did the cooking. After enjoying dinner over small talk, Mingyu like the gentleman he is did the dishes as you poured some wine for the two of you.
Sitting on the small table in common space by the window, you both watched the clear sky that had appeared after the shower. You sipped your wine, watching the vast expanse of stars that blinked in the dark sky.
"I think I've to go back tomorrow," Mingyu suddenly whispered, his tone so low you almost thought you misheard him. A bolt out the blue, you looked at him.
"Tomorrow?"
"Mmhmm," he fiddled with the hem of his cardigan as he stared at the table. "I've got so many calls and messages from work. My company won't run on its on, I can be gone for only so long." He sighed.
You didn't offer any words, too shocked to know that he'd be gone tomorrow. What is this attachment you've developed towards him? Why did the thought of someone, almost a stranger going back to where he came from, where he belonged hurt you so much? You didn't know what to label your feelings but realizing that you'd probably never see him again was tugging at your heartstrings.
Should you ask him for his number and stay connected with him? Is there even a point in that? You both live miles away from each other. Or should just take his advice and follow him to the city? Would that even be a good idea? Are you just reading all this wrong?
You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn't realize Mingyu was calling you until he shook your shoulder.
"You okay, ___?"
"Huh? Yeah...it's just, the news is really sudden. I didn't... expect you'd return so soon." You mumbled.
Mingyu sighed, his shoulder dropping a little bit. "Trust me, if I could I'd stay here forever. But...I can't keep running. I need to face my parents, the sooner the better."
At a loss of what to say, you just nodded. Reaching for your drink you took a big gulp, trying to calm your nerves. It's okay, you can do this. He's just another one of your guests.
You stood up, taking the empty glass in your hand, "Well, I better leave you alone now. I'm sure you've got packing to do."
You almost turned away; until a strong hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back, making you stumble towards Mingyu's body.
"Don't. Stay for a while. I don't want you to leave." His voice was soft yet deep and it immediately broke your resolve as you set the glass down and looked into his eyes.
He didn't let go of your wrist; instead only wrapped his other hand around your waist, pulling you closer, leaving just a few inches between your faces. You didn't tell him to move neither did you make any effort to get away from him- you didn't want to. It felt good, comforting as he held you and looked at you almost like you were his whole world. His eyes had so much emotion swirling in them and you were sure yours looked the same too.
"___?" His voice was breathy and it set your heart aflame.
"Y-yes?"
"Can I...kiss you?"
You inhaled sharply as his hold on you got tighter. You couldn't process a reply, overwhelmed with emotion. So you just nodded and Mingyu leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.
It was soft at first, his lips just resting against yours, as if he was testing the waters. When you didn't resist but only pulled him closer, he started devouring you, his tongue prodding in your wet cavern. Moans espaced from you as you kept pulling at his hair almost grinding on him, desperate for more. He was the same, kissing you with so much passion and vigour like you were the last female standing.
You somehow managed to tug off his cardigan between the kiss and when you pulled apart for air, Mingyu panted, "Can we take this to the bedroom?"
His deep raspy voice spread liquid heat throughout your body and you had to stop yourself from pouncing on him.
"Yes please," you breathed. Mingyu stood up straight, his tall and built body intimidating you in the best ways possible, "Oh baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you anything you want."
Once again your breath was trapped as he picked you up, his hand under your ass to support you. When he dropped you on his bed and took off his tee you realized you were in for a long night. In the back of your mind, you also realized that this would make it even harder to let him go.
-
Next morning you were the first one to wake up as the sun barely seeped through the blinds. If you had to guess it wasn't any more than six am. Mingyu's hand rested on your waist as he remained snuggled against your back. It was so comforting that you almost forgot your reality and went back to sleep, until you remembered what had happened last night. Before you could start overthinking and possibly had a breakdown right there, you ever so carefully removed his hand from your body and scrawled out of the bed, grabbing your shirt and quickly throwing it on. Then you tiptoped out of his room despite the ache between your legs and rushed straight towards yours.
Slamming the door shut, your sat down, head in your hands. You've to now prepare for saying goodbye. Right, you just need to act casual and not let him know that you might have developed feelings for him in the past week.
His words came back to you.
"Do you have a home?"
You didn't have one until now but the realization that you may have found it brought tears to your eyes.
-
You spent the next hours wallowing in your self pity, curled up in your bed too afraid to get out and face Mingyu. Soonyoung dropped by once, knocking at your door and asking if you want breakfast, which you declined. Time slowly ticked away and you watched as the clock struck eleven. You couldn't stay inside forever. You needed to bid Mingyu a goodbye- that is if he hadn't left already. But you were sure he didn't; he wouldn't just leave without any words.
Sighing, you gathered every last bit of your courage and stepped out of your room. Immediately you saw Mingyu coming out from the opposite end of the corridor, the carry-on he brought with him in his hand.
"Hey, where have you been?" He asked, his steps getting quicker to come and stand in front of you.
"Oh- um, I took and shower and then dozed off, sorry," you lied easily, not meeting his eyes.
There was a beat of silence as you both stood in front of each other and when your eyes finally met his, a blush spread across his face like wildfire. The air was heavy with unsaid words and you coughed, trying to get rid of the terrible awkwardness.
"So, you're leaving now?"
What a nice question.
Mingyu seemed to be lost in thoughts as he snapped back to reality and scratched the back of his head, "Oh yeah, right. It'll be a couple hours drive so the earlier I leave the better."
Nodding you motioned your hand towards the exit, "I'll see you out."
Mingyu seemed to have something to say but he pressed his lips in a thin line and started to climb down the stairs, you behind him. Soonyoung, who was standing at the entrance gave you a conspirational wiggle of his brows but said nothing as he watched you follow Mingyu out.
You observed as Mingyu loaded his bag in the trunk, peeking glances at you every other second. When he finished, you spoke, "Well...good luck. I hope you can overcome your problems."
"Thanks. It won't be easy and my dad will probably take away my shares of the company but...I'm done living like this."
You nodded, smiling softly as you crossed your arms against your chest. It suddenly felt cold.
You both gazed at each other, saying nothing even though you've so much to say, as if the silence would carry your unsaid words to him. You were torn- wanting to talk about last night but chickening out knowing it was probably just a fling, a one night stand for him.
"___..." Mingyu spoke but the words died on his tongue. Not trusting yourself to speak, you swallwed the ball of emotions and looked at him with a curious tilt of head.
"...I hope you find what you really want to do. And I hope you find your home too," he said, his words so soft and gentle. For some reason you had a feeling that those were not the words he wanted to say yet you forced a smile and nodded, "You too, Mingyu."
His eyes swirled with so my emotions but you didn't know what he was thinking. He looked pained, just like you but you were too afraid to speak your feelings, scared that you misread him.
When you spoke no more, Mingyu sighed and backstopped slowly, "Well... goodbye, then."
You managed to choke out the words, "Goodbye."
Your emotions overwhelmed you, tears stinging your eyes as you watched him enter his car. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest?
His engine roared to life and your stomach sunk. Was this really the right thing to do? Should you just let him go like this?
You made a split second decision that moment, just as his car moved forward a little.
"Mingyu!" You called after him, immediately making him stop the car. He came out, almost in a hurry, an expectant look on his face as you ran towards him. Then you made another split second decision as you wrapped your arms around his tall frame and held tight.
"I like you, Mingyu. I really like you." You mumbled in his chest.
He didn't say anything back but you felt his arms wrapping around you tightly and you stood there in each others embrace for a while. It felt like time has stopped, the warmth and safety of his arms comforting you and making you realize how you would have regretted if you had let him go.
Mingyu pulled back to take a look at your face, his hand cupping your cheeks, his warm but intense eyes on you, shining with love and adoration.
"Say something," you whispered, still unsure.
He chuckled, a light-hearted, carefree sound that made your heart swoon. "I like you too, if it wasn't obvious after last night."
Elated, you pulled his face down and kissed his lips as you felt him grin and wrap his arms around you once again.
"I want to go with you...to the city," you murmured into his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head.
You couldn't see it but you felt him smirk, "Good. Because I think I found my home."
Your heart couldn't become fuller as you grinned like a happy child.
"Me too."
A/N 2: If you enjoyed reading don't forget to like and reblog and let me know your thoughts!
© startlightxsvt 2021 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.
#seventeen#seventeen fic#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen au#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt scenarios#svt fic#svt smut#kim mingyu#seventeen mingyu#svt mingyu#svt fake texts
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LO$ER=?, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.
continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au
yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!
--
now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt
"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"
You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...
She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.
You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.
Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.
You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.
Chanel.
Huh.
You stayed in your car.
Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.
He would eat pretty much anything though.
You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.
True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.
You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.
"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."
You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.
"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."
Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.
You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.
It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?
You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.
You checked your phone.
Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.
They won't mind my tattoos?
Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.
Jungkook had blinked at you.
You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.
You loved Jungkook's laugh.
He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.
That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.
The fuck is all this?
Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–
You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.
You almost forgot this Jungkook.
It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.
You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.
Maybe.
Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.
Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.
Then again.
Maybe that was just how everyone lived.
You heard a soft tap by your car window.
You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.
You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.
"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.
He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.
"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"
"So is yours!"
"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"
You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.
"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.
You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"
"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."
You raised your eyebrows.
"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"
"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"
You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.
"JEON JUNGKOOK!"
"Oh shit–"
You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.
"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"
You raised your eyebrows, again.
Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.
"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.
"You–"
You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.
"He was my dog!"
Your eye twitched.
"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.
"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"
You felt it.
Pause.
You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.
"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."
There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...
You thought he might go back.
"You should run."
The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.
"W-What?"
Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."
She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.
"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"
Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.
"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"
He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.
She screamed after him, words choked with agony.
"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"
You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.
"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"
-
“Hey! Get back here!”
You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.
“Watch out!”
You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.
“Get off!”
But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.
“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.
“I love you,” he breathed.
“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”
-
You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.
“Hey, Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.
It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.
“What did that man do to her?”
A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.
“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”
“That’s you,” you joked.
“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”
Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.
She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.
Enjoy your piranha.
“I’m sorry.”
Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”
His eyes shifted away.
“You don’t have to–”
“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”
The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.
“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”
Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.
“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”
You blinked slowly.
He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.
You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.
“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.
“Hm?”
“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”
He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”
“Oh, shut up.”
But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.
-
“Why the fuck do you have that?”
“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”
“Why?”
You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.
“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”
“Of what?”
You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.
“Couples tattoo.”
You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.
LO♡ER
You raised an eyebrow.
“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”
“That’s why I would get it on my left.”
And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.
LO$ER
Now you raised both eyebrows.
“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.
Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”
Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.
“Are you stupid?”
Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”
You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.
-
Shit, the groceries...
Are they still good?
The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.
Shut up.
You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.
Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.
But, then.
Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook made you run.
It's not washing off.
Tragic.
Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.
So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!
It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.
A winner at life.
Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.
He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.
You could turn and escape.
Or?
You heard sirens.
You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.
Run!
This was before the tattoos.
This was before the pain.
This was before the piercing.
Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.
Needed to fight.
A hand around his hand.
Run!
Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.
Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.
Sinking into it.
Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.
The sirens sped past.
He was holding her and she was holding him.
It was chance.
Just chance.
His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.
I'm sorry...
It was ridiculous chance.
Just ridiculous.
You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...
Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.
Not knowing.
Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.
And you would escape.
You would run.
He would come back.
An endless cycle until you broke it.
Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.
Did that make you pathetic?
Did that make you stupid?
Did that make you the loser?
I love you.
Why did it matter?
Even winners die.
I love you too, Jungkook.
"Get your hands off my tits."
"Why?"
You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.
His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.
You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.
And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.
It didn't really make sense, being in love.
You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.
"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.
You smirked.
"Always was and always will be."
I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.
"Let me at least..."
"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"
Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.
"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"
"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."
You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.
"You're so annoying."
He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.
You narrowed your eyes.
You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.
I'm not taking you anywhere.
I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.
Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.
Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.
“P… Please…”
Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.
That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.
You ticked your chin at him.
“Look at me.”
His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.
“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.
His pleasure and him.
I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.
It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.
Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.
I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?
“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”
He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.
“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”
He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”
“You never wanted a tattoo before.”
Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”
Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.
You’re still here.
Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.
You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?
Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?
F… Forget I said a-anything…
Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…
“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”
Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?
“Jungkook…”
Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.
Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.
The kiss lasted a long, long time.
It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.
“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”
The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.
“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”
--
masterpost
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you
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there she goes
A/N: Soft boi has arrived! Literally only watched his episodes of the Mentalist because Patrick Jane, quite frankly, annoys/bores the absolute shit out of me.
Pairing: Marcus Pike/f!reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: none that I can see but please let me know if you think something should be added!
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Standing in line at your favourite little café, you watch the rain pelt against the glass panels of the shop with disdain, cursing the bright sunny morning that tricked you into leaving your umbrella and jacket at home. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when you woke and left for work this morning, and now it seemed like the dark grey clouds delivering the onslaught of rain stretched from horizon to horizon with no signs of a break any time soon. Typical, you thought to yourself. Like your day hadn’t been bad enough already.
Your landlord had dropped the bomb of a rent increase, your car had a flat, you had missed the bus and had to take a cab, your desk chair decided to die – leaving you practically on the floor trying to answer calls and use your computer and the office printer refused to print anything, no matter how many times you called it a piece of junk and kicked it. Suffice to say, you were more than ready for a strong hit of caffeine.
You’re dragged out of your inner grumbling when a finger gently taps your shoulder and you whirl to face the tapper immediately, sharp words of irritation dying on your tongue the second you meet their gaze.
Brown eyes, you notice instantly. Soft, soulful brown eyes. He was… nice. Understatement. He was gorgeous, with neatly trimmed facial hair and windswept dark hair falling just above his eyes.
He gestures towards the counter with a polite half smile, “Uh, you’re next.”
You blink in confusion before glancing at the young girl behind the register, seemingly waiting for you to step forward and order, and quickly apologise to them both. She smiles, making quick work of your regular order and then you’re stepping aside, throwing another apology towards the stranger before finding a seat and sitting with a deep exhale.
The rain comes down harder because of course it does. You mentally add embarrassing yourself in front of the first decent looking guy you’ve seen in a while to your list with a quiet groan. Melting back into the chair, you take a moment to fully bask in your somewhat dry clothes and shoes before inevitably having to end up running through the torrential downpour back to the office.
A to-go cup is placed gently in front of you, your name scrawled across the side, and you blink dumbly at it before following up along the arm until you’re looking at the man from the line. He’s smiling again, his own coffee in hand and the other now buried in his pants pocket.
“Someone’s away with the fairies today.” He notes light-heartedly, and then gestures over his shoulder. “They called your name – I hope it’s okay that I bought it over.”
You blink again, and only when his brow quirks ever so slightly do you snap out of your reverie.
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m not usually this spacey.”
His face softens, lips quirking into a sympathetic smile. “Bad day?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” You reply dryly, eyeing the rain as you stand. “Thanks for bringing my coffee over. It probably would’ve been stone cold by the time I came back to Earth.”
You’re rewarded with a deep chuckle and it sends a little flutter through your chest. You made the pretty stranger laugh – not a total loss of a day, after all.
“I could try and make it better, if you want.”
You raise a brow, smiling shyly. “Oh yeah?”
He nods with a small smile, “Yeah.” He looks over his shoulders and shrugs lightly. “I could get you a slice of banana bread, a muffin, maybe… a gingerbread man? He has mini marshmallows as buttons.” His voice is light, playful, and when his grin widens, you find yourself unable to resist returning it.
You hum in thought, “Sounds like you’re a big fan.”
He chuckles, looking down as he nods. “Yeah look, I may eat colourfully decorated marshmallow buttoned gingerbread men more than a fully functioning adult of my age should.” He admits, grinning as you chuckle. “We could grab a table... maybe talk for a bit?” He watches you check your watch, hope growing in his chest at the thought of getting to know the pretty distracted stranger a little better over coffee.
“As tempting as that sounds, my break is almost over and I’m pushing it for time.” His face falls a little and you mirror his disappointment, briefly wondering if your boss would let you off if you tell her all about the pretty stranger at the coffee shop. “Thank you for the offer, though…”
“Marcus,” he smiles, shaking your hand firmly. The encasing warmth of his hand is enough to send a thrill through you, and your heart flutters in nervous excitement. The feeling doubles as he murmurs your name, pointing to your cup before you could ask how he knows.
You duck your head, smiling warmly at him before turning to the door and bracing for the wet chill that’s about to take hold. A warm hand softly pulls your arm back, and you turn back to him in question. He’s looking at your empty hands with a frown.
“Don’t you have an umbrella? Or a jacket at least?” Marcus asks, frown deepening when you shake your head.
“No, it was sunny when I left this morning – bad day.” You explain, a smile still tugging at your lips despite the downpour bombarding the street. There was something about this kind and pretty stranger that had you unable to stop smiling, and your cheeks were starting to pay the price with a lingering ache.
“Well, you can’t go out there without one, here – have mine.” He reaches past you and grabs the dripping umbrella propped up by the door, holding it out to you expectantly.
You recoil instantly, “What? No!”
“Please. It’s bad out there!”
As if to cement his argument, a snap of thunder crackles overhead, the rain increasing, and you cringe instantly.
Still, you shake your head and push his hand away, “I can’t take your umbrella! What about you?”
“I drove here – my car’s around the corner. Please, take it.”
You weigh up your options, not wanting to leave the handsome stranger with nothing to keep himself dry, but ultimately, it’s his pleading puppy eyes that completely win you over and then you’re reaching out, taking the umbrella softly and desperately trying to get a hold of your rapid heartbeat.
“Thank you, Marcus.”
He shrugs, an easy grin stretching his features and your eyes fall to glance over it appreciatively. He had a damn good smile. “Don’t mention it.”
“My knight in shining suit.” You coo, chuckling at the flush of faint pink that washes across his cheeks. “I can’t tell you how much this has turned my day around.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” And he truly is.
You linger a moment longer, grinning as he turns slightly bashful under your heavy scrutiny. “It was really nice to meet you, Marcus.”
He beams, “You, too.”
With a small wave, you disappear into the rain and Marcus sighs softly, watching you go with a small flicker of regret at the missed opportunity. Umbrella and your number next time, Pike, he scolds himself solemnly.
His nose curls as he watches the rain for a moment and then sighs deeply, reaching for the lapel of his jacket. He pulls it over his head and briefly thinks about his car, still parked in the nice and dry parking garage back at the bureau. He’s not at all sorry for telling you a little white lie to get you to take his umbrella, you needed something in this weather and it was his absolute pleasure to provide. Knight in shining suit. It had him smiling to himself the entire run back to the office, despite the downpour that had him saturated in the first two minutes.
He keeps an eye out over the next few days, intentionally going for lunch at the same time as that rainy day in hopes he’d see you again. Every day, he was left walking back with a feeling of disappointment, but not letting it crush his hope for the next day.
It’s not until over a week later when he’s standing in line, the café busier than usual, when he hears a familiar voice pipe up from behind him.
“I’ve heard the gingerbread men here are pretty good.”
You’re already smiling when he turns to face you, a grin of his own creasing his cheeks.
“I’ve been keeping an eye out for you.” He admits, nodding when you tilt your head with a curious oh? “Just making sure you’re not holding up any more lines – people need their coffee, after all. Can’t be waiting around all day.” He teases, laughing when you softly shove him playfully.
Shaking your head, you step up next to him and lean in to his side, “So guess what?”
He chuckles softly to himself, looking at you expectantly. “What?”
“I took a long lunch. Well, actually, I’ve been taking long lunches all week hoping to see you.” You admit, somewhat shyly. Were you coming on too strong? You hope not. It’s only been a week and you had missed him like you had known him longer than five minutes. You weren’t sure whether to be slightly concerned that a literal stranger had you so caught up in a whirl or thrilled that you had finally met someone who seemed genuinely decent.
He smiles softly, relieved that this little thing between you both wasn’t one sided. “I’ve been hoping to see you, too. I actually –”
“Hey, move it along!”
You startle, turning to frown at the irritated man behind you when Marcus chuckles and offers a small apology over his shoulder, before reaching for your hand and gently pulling you the short distance to the counter to order. You barely take notice of him and the barista talking, instead focusing on your hand now wrapped up in his, his thumb rubbing softly across your knuckles, and how it’s making your body thrum with electricity. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking back up to his face to find him looking at you expectantly, brow firmly raised with a small smirk.
You blink. “What?”
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Death in the Afternoon
Chris Evans
Parte trois - Breaking You
Synopsis: You're having what seems to be withdrawal symptoms and you're dying to see the love of your life - and be with him once and for all.
Word Count: 4,416
Warning: Explicit Language, Extremely Sensitive Issues, Gore, Sexual Content
Author's Note: Refer to previous parts before reading this one. Thanks for making writing so enjoyable - I really love + appreciate reading your comments + opinions! I really hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what you think!
Finale
His letter sits crumpled in your desk drawer, your glance stains its words, the page yellowed by its exposure to the sun.
Every single day that has passed since you last saw him, you have cried.
You forced yourself back to work just to finish the film that you were filming for the past five months; now that it is done you have all the time in the world to stay lying down on your cold bathroom floor - until tomorrow. The contents of your stomach lying at the bottom of the toilet bowl. The world is spinning, and your breathing is ragged and deep.
The email you sent him is still open on your laptop screen, the screen now dim from being inactive for twenty minutes. You can barely see the words you typed out to him through the tears in your eyes.
You hesitantly lift yourself from the tiled floor, your shaky legs threaten to collapse beneath you and leave you in a heap on the ground. The walk back to your bed is tremulous and slow. Your heavy eyes are stuck to the bed, willing your brain to lead you there. You lose track of the time it takes you get to your bed.
The notification sound comes from your laptop, you slowly sit up towards your laptop. You summon the strength to open your eyes wider, he’s replied.
‘I’ll be there soon.’
Your body feels lighter, his acknowledgement and acceptance makes your body float softly.
You don’t know how you’ll go on without him, the sensation makes you sick. You’ve never wanted to depend on another person for your happiness. You’ve been okay being alone as long as you can remember.
The day he left you made you spiral. You sought help from a hotel guest that managed to hear your small pleas for help from the other side of the door. You begged her not to call an ambulance, you asked for her to help to get you into a taxi and you were on your way to a private doctor. You needed utmost privacy. Your doctor saw some small health concerns that affected your heart, he requested you majorly decrease your cigarette and alcohol intake and that you visit him once a month so he could come to a certain conclusion.
On your second visit you received your earth-shattering news.
Pregnant, four weeks along.
It had been four weeks exactly since you had seen him. The devastation that afflicted you made you sick all over again. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t go back to your doctor. You chose to let life go on as normal for three weeks, but the agony was breaking your heart further the more you did that. You considered several things before emailing him. You could go on to give birth and never tell him that it is his and it could grow without a father; or you could abort it. The last option makes you feel unsettled, though you don’t know why. It’s what your brain immediately went to when you learnt about it.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?
He just read that you really need him, and you miss him in your email. He didn’t have to read it, let alone let you know he’ll be here.
The tightness in your chest is back. Your fingers flit against your tender breasts and you touch the part where your heart is, it beats lightly.
He doesn’t come that night. You spend the whole night watching the dark, rainy streets of New York, alone. You fall asleep to the sounds of sirens and cars, alone.
You wake up on the floor of your room, in front of the floor to ceiling windows.
Your body feels like it’s made out of limestone and that your tears have caused the material on your face to deteriorate. It takes you half an hour to get the strength to stand up from the floor. You try to stretch but every joint feels like it’s screaming. You manage to walk into your bathroom without swaying, the sight of your vomit and its stench greets you as you walk through the glass door. You hold your breath as you pee, and then brush your teeth. You think about the fact that he stood you up once you’ve found the courage to shower. The water feels like its scalding your skin as you let it water you.
You lay on your bed naked, waiting for an hour for a notification from him. He’s forgotten you.
Your brain loops around the image of him laughing at you with the brunette as they sit on the bed you bought for him; their eyes crinkling in mockery, disbelief lacing their laughter. A tear slips from your eye, you barely manage to wipe it away. You can smell the scent of your decaying heart through your skin, its stench burning a hole in your chest, rotting your ribs in the process.
You need to get up, you have stuff to do. Though you feel numbed, you will yourself to get up.
You forgo eating, simply choosing to indulge in an espresso and two cigarettes for breakfast. You allow the tiniest desire you have to simply let it be repulsed by your body and expel itself from inside - come to the forefront of your mind.
You spend the day working like a dog, you push yourself to limits that make your assistant raise her eyebrows high and ask you to calm down. You ignore any concerned glances as you push yourself ten times more than usual at the gym, drawing praise from your companions. You take a moment to yourself in the gym toilet and check your stomach, you glare at the slightest bump on the bottom of your torso. As you fight the temptation to punch your stomach, your phone brightens with a new notification - from him.
‘Meet you at the restaurant round the corner from your place. Booked a table for 9pm.’
You gulp, an uneasy feeling setting into the depths of your stomach. You’d rather be sent an anonymous letter to meet at a hotel restaurant, it had a touch of romance to it. Exchanging emails is what you’ve had to resort to, you are both blocked from contacting each other in any other manner; sometimes you think to yourself that you’re like forbidden lovers - by choice.
You finish working around eight o’clock, you ready yourself by half eight and you hang around the restaurant. Suddenly having picked up the habit of biting at your nail, you watch the patrons of the restaurants and recognise some television big wigs and political journalists. You breathe in deeply, your eyes flitting around the somewhat busy street, you can feel your bladder ready to give way. You rush into the restaurant at nine on the dot and are escorted by the restaurant manager to a toilet. You ease yourself and wash your hands, your morose face plastered with magazine worthy makeup stares back you. Your pupils are shrunken and your eyes that are practically unresponsive to the light stare at you, the sight of yourself makes them well with tears of disappointment.
You leave the toilets; you saunter back to the door and spot him being led to the table by a waiter. Your feet lead you back outside to the street.
You feel like vomiting, your breaths become shallow and limited. Pressing a hand to your chest you feel your heart hammering mercilessly against your ribs. It feels like death. You shakily reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette pack, you stare at it and your mind wanders to the feeling in the pit of your abdomen. You decide you’re not strong enough to fight the temptation, you pull a cigarette to your lips and go to light it. Your phone vibrates in your hand.
‘Where are you?’
It’s been five minutes, you exhale. You put the unlit cigarette with a lipstick mark back in your bag and take two deep breaths. You slowly walk into the restaurant, you raise your head, desperately trying to find the assurance you’re so well known for. You’re an actress, you’re an expert at façades.
You’re led to his table, your strut attracting the attention of most everyone in the room.
His hair is grown out, his stubble creating a flattering shadow on his lower face. You sit wordlessly, the waiter asks for your drink order and you ask for a ‘Death in the Afternoon’. The waiter smiles, you hear him sigh. You turn to him, avoiding his eyes.
You’re pregnant - with his baby. You’re both having a baby.
The sobering thought almost makes your voice shake. “Thanks for meeting with me. Even though you vowed to never see me again.” Your tone is almost mocking, a tinge of pride filling you. The bitter memory of writing that letter stings him - more so because he’s succumbed to seeing you after having written it.
He tries to sense any revealing signs that you miss him, had he not received your email he would have been hurt to believe that you were thriving without him. You’re still so put together, too beautiful for you to be needing him. Your makeup is done flawlessly, you’re dressed perfectly elegantly. He can’t understand why you would send him an email at ten in the night asking for him if you seem to be good. It made him joyful to receive it, and he hates that. Why do you have this hold over him? Why can’t he just leave you and forget you.
“I couldn’t ignore the possibility that you weren’t okay.” He takes a sip of his cold beer; the taste of wheat makes him relax somewhat.
“You said you’d be there soon, what happened last night?” The embarrassment immediately clambers up your system and makes you avert your eyes to one table over. You hate seeking answers from others that make you feel dependent and make you more human - you despise it.
How can he begin to explain that he stood in the lobby of your building for forty-five minutes trying to fight his anxiety? How can he begin to explain that his fingers trembled so badly that he couldn’t get his phone out of his pocket to let you know that you couldn’t be there for you? How can he begin to explain to you that he loves you so much that the thought of going up to your apartment and failing to comfort you filled him with unending fright? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t allow you to ridicule him? He’s failed you twice now.
He can’t really put himself in the mindset he was in when he left you that letter, letting you know how much you let him down. He didn’t leave the hotel until after you did, he instantly regretted leaving you when he saw you doubled over in pain being helped into a taxi.
He’s got so many questions, why is it you need him? What happened to you in Portofino? “Got side-tracked with something.” He gives you a non-committal shrug and takes another swig of his drink, his leg shaking noticeably under the table.
Your heart falls to the bottom of your stomach, your entire torso feels like it made of limestone and your throat tightens. You feel like you’re choking, your drink couldn’t be here any sooner. “You in a rush to be somewhere?” You look at him questioningly, noticing his leg movements, you try to hide the sadness that’s padding your body like sponge.
He shrugs, “Kinda,” the disillusionment is almost impossible to disguise on your face, he feels some satisfaction from it. “But it can wait.” He watches the waiter approach with two glasses, he places your drink in front of you motions the beer towards him. Accepting it gratefully he continues once the waiter has left. “I thought we weren’t to speak to each other anymore, what made you contact me?” He narrows his eyes, the blue of his eyes twinkling with a glimmer of curiosity.
Your body shivers and you glance away from him, you attempt to will your waiter back towards you. “We can talk about that later, no?” You motion towards him and he rushes over, you ask for two dry martinis. You both wait in silence.
The words that could release all the tension from your body spindle over your tongue incessantly, they almost materialise but you choose to rope him into small talk and pull updates about his life from him. He lets slip that he’s considering the possibility of being serious with the brunette; you remember her sweet features that harshly contrast your own. You make a biting remark that he’s always liked a plain Jane over your third glass; it’s met with a biting remark regarding your character.
You refuse his request to eat dinner with him after his comment; but you do ask him to accompany you to your building.
“I’ll walk you to your elevator.” He mumbles as you exit the restaurant. You nod in agreement; he lights a cigarette and offers you a drag. You smother your temptation, “It’s okay, actually.” You shiver as light pelts of rain shower you. The city is vibrant and lively, but the small bubble you find yourself encased in with him is dark and tempestuous; an unspoken tragedy clouding your day.
The contemplation of being in your apartment alone another night stabs you deep in the back.
You reach the lift of your lobby and you turn to each other. “Please come up with me,” your lip trembles with the weight of the unspoken truth. His eyes flash with concern and surprise. You make your way up to your apartment wordlessly, his hand brushing against you every time you move next to him.
Finding yourself with him in your bedroom, you lay on your bed, taking your shoes off with him watching silently at the end of your bed. He’s highlighted by the setting sun, orange hues paint him golden and blush. He invites himself onto your bed, sensing the melancholy in the air. There’s an odour of cigarettes that permeates the air near your bedside table.
Your back is to him, you feel his arms slink themselves around your waist. His chest presses against your back and you melt slightly into his touch. You missed him so much and the smell of him hauls you to the doors of paradise. How could you have possibly messed this up so much? Two tears slip from your eyes and you sniffle, his arms tighten around you and he comes impossibly closer. His face inches on top of yours, “Tell me what’s wrong?” His whisper is as tender as the wind and the soft touch of his voice makes you moan quietly.
You stare of into the horizon, your eyes being overwhelmed by the rays of sun. “I—” you hesitate. Your breath leaving your body, you pay attention to the movements of his hands, they stroke your stomach making you tremble. You stop in your tracks, alarm setting into your bones.
You turn to him; you can see the questioning look in his eyes. He doesn’t know.
You crash your lips into his, he barely has time to register your passion before he’s responding with his own heated response. His hands mould around your body with a newfound purpose. You want deep down to breathe him in and keep him with you forever. You roll on top of him, and your hands memorise every fibre of his face, his skin is smooth underneath your palms. He slips your dress off of your body, his fingers dance with your skin as he caresses your back.
He wants to stay like this forever. You tear his clothes off of him with an eager gentleness, his hands enclose your hips as you begin to ride him, your hips dance over him, your fingers slip in between his lips and he sucks on them. He pulls you closer to him, hugging you as you ride him. He thrusts into you from beneath and you almost crumble in his arms. “I love you so much—” you hear the words slip from in between his ajar lips, you lift your head and kiss him. Your martini saturated tongues waltz with each other in a feverish heat that leaves you both lightheaded.
You two play with each other’s bodies slowly, untangling each layer of each other’s guard. He slips on top of you with the grace of a gymnast. He nestles himself inside and you your noses rub together as he drives into you slowly, and deeply, with his hand clutching at your throat. You feel your insides liquifying with pleasure, your hands clasp onto his arms for help to grip onto reality. He’s here. Just here - with you.
“I love you, so, so much, Christopher.” You cry out as he increases his speed, the intensity of his movements making his hips meld with your clitoris. His spare hand moves from your breast to your face, he grips onto your throat with more firmness and you let out a sigh of content. Your eyes don’t leave his and he refuses to slow down, you feel yourself go into sensory overload. You feel waves of pleasure shower your body, stars ripple in between your fingers and toes and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your body is floating above your bed.
Chris pants as he maintains his speed, chasing his own maddening orgasm. “You’re so beautiful when you cum.” He breathes out as he lets go of himself inside you. His thumb traces over your bottom lip, he lowers himself down and plants a kiss on your lips. He breathes in your air and gives you a tight hug.
“I have to tell you something.” You whisper into the room. He’s laying next you, his arm draped over your waist. His lack of response for ten seconds is explained by the soft snores leaving him. You purse your lips, “I’m pregnant.” You utter into the atmosphere and turn away from him, you pray that maybe he can hear you; you pray in vain.
A newfound determination settles into your aching chest. You’ll let him know, for real - you’ll work something out; you’ll have your baby and be parents. You’ll be better than your own parents, you’re sure of it. Your hands settle over your stomach, you give your baby a silent apology for mistreating your body - your baby’s temple.
You’re lulled to sleep by the silence.
You wake with a start; the world is dark outside. You can’t feel his arm anymore, dread fills you to the brim as you sit up, your back towards the side he was sleeping on. You feel your heart hurting, you feel weak. You swallow your tears as you look out at the skyscrapers outside your room. Taking a deep breath, you turn slowly to the other side.
He’s still there.
You let out a deep sigh of relief, tears welling into your eyes and dropping out without caution. You let out a soft sob, you throw your arms around him and hold him tightly. He stirs as your tears fall onto his pectoral.
“Hey, everything okay?” He grumbles, worry saturating his voice. “Yes,” you breathe out slowly. He pulls you up to him and his eyes caress yours. You refuse to let him know what’s bothering you, there’s a silent understanding that you need him more than anything right now. You cover yourselves in a blanket, your half naked bodies are melded together as you walk across your apartment towards your terrace.
Chris lights the fire pit, you let your eyes roam his body freely. He sits down next you and you cover yourselves with the large blanket, his hand rests on your thigh.
“Why did you just leave me in Portofino?” Your whisper is carried by the wind and the noise of the three am traffic.
Chris sighs, his eyes lowering down to the fire pit in front of you. “I couldn’t bare the fact that after what you did to me, I still reached out to you, I invited you back into my life.” Your eyes well up with tears again, you want to be swallowed into the ground and dragged to the pits of hell. He looks back at you, his eyes searching for what’s in your own. “I know you’re sorry. But I just couldn’t understand why you did what you did; until I came across this quote that reminded me that hurt people, hurt people. I figured some digging into your past couldn’t hurt at that point. I’m sorry about what you had to go through.” His fingers leave whispered touches on your thigh.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You interject tearfully, he pulls you in, your head resting on his chest. The sound of his fast-beating heart grounds you into this moment.
“I know, I know.” He coos softly. His fingers stroke your cheek, simultaneously wiping away your tears. “I just wish you trusted me enough to let me into your little world. I wanted to know all of you, even the tiniest parts you didn’t even know, I guess you sensed it and you left me. So, I’m sorry for that, too.” You sniffle and let your head fall onto his lap. You look up at him with tears flowing out of your eyes slowly.
“You’re my everything. You’re— you’re my moon and my stars, I—, I—, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without you.” He chokes over his own unshed tears.
“I love you.” Your words make a tear slip out of his eye.
“I love you too.” He thumb traces your lips softly, his touch gentle as if he were afraid you would turn into mist if he were not tender enough.
You slip into a dreamless sleep, the noise of the world encasing you into carnival of relaxation.
You open your eyes to the ceiling of your bedroom, illuminated by the afternoon sun. A cramp numbs the bottom half of your body. You clench your teeth and sit up, the sharp agony whirling around your system. Something’s not right. You clasp weakly at your stomach; you fail to ignore the pool you feel forming underneath your legs. You lower your fingers slowly, dread thickening in your heart, red darkens your fingertips. You choke back on a sob as another cramp solidifies itself in your stomach, you crumple over, tears streaming out of your eyes. “Chris…” you choke out. Fear paralyses you in your bed.
Chris is nowhere in sight. You gather the little strength you have left in your arms and will yourself towards your bathroom. You drag your bleeding body towards your toilet, blood smears trailing behind you. Small whimpers leave your body as you finally reach the toilet, you pull some tissue towards you and pat the blood away. More leaves you, a heavy flow that makes your insides feel like they’re being pulverised. You’ve gone and done it; you have killed your baby.
You sob loudly, blood smearing over your half-covered body, “My baby—". Your body is racked with the undulating guilt that attacks your system. Tears pour uncontrollably from your eyes; you fight to take in breaths. Your heart feels like it’s breaking - literally. The stiffness in your chest spreads across your ribs and constricts your airflow.
You desperately clutch at your chest, wanting your fingers to tear into your skin and fix your heart. It feels like you’re on fire.
You’re dying.
Darkness blankets your vision; spots of clarity allow you to merely reach the door of your bathroom.
Chris sits at your desk, his phone pressed to your ear. Your doctor’s words feeling like stones in his stomach - he’s diagnosed you with severe depression and fears that a mildly stressful event may be enough to cause an onset of more severe physical problems. You entrusted Chris as your next of kin, in case your doctor believed something awful had happened to you. He listens intently to the information that is relayed to him - you have an inflamed artery. It could lead to your death. The doctor’s words make his stomach sink.
The call ends with Chris promising to accompany you to your appointments and he notes down the number of the referred psychiatrist.
A small wail comes from far away in the apartment, Chris sighs and stands up. He strides quickly to your room, the sight that greets him almost makes him retch. Your blood soils the room. Your body is still, your breaths are shallow and fast. Your hand is clutched over chest, your face distorted with pain riddled in the pores of your skin.
“Baby,” he calls out immediately and crouches down towards you. He feels for your pulse and panic lines his stomach; he grabs for your phone quickly and calls for help. He barely registers what he does in the next two minutes but all he can do is clutch onto you with all his might.
“Tell me what’s wrong, huh?” he whimpers, he pulls you onto his arm. He cradles you, his face pressed against yours. “Come on, you’re supposed to be my favourite girl, you can’t play with me like this…” he chokes out a frantic chuckle.
You’re barely responsive. “B—Baby, stay with me. Stay with me, okay,” he taps your face as his tears roll onto your skin, “don’t leave me.” He begs as his hands tremble. “What am I going to do without my moon and my stars, huh? How can my world go on without you?” His sobs shaking you lightly, your eyes flicker. “Don’t leave me.” He implores, sobs ripping his throat apart.
He can hear the door opening, the flurry of movements that happens around you two separates your bodies away from each other. He grips onto your limp hand desperately, tears blinding him as the paramedics rush you away from him.
He can’t feel his body as he falls to ground, watching your limp hand hanging from the side of the gurney.
The lift doors shut behind the paramedics.
He never sees you again.
Nevertheless, he still loves you, he'll always love you.
Fin.
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@chvntelle-99,@harrysthiccthighss,@tessa-bl
#chris evans imagine#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans series#chris evans angst#chris evans x you#steve rodgers x reader#steve rodgers imagine#steve rodgers#andy barber#andy barber imagine#andy barber fluff#chris evans fluff#marvel fanfiction#marvel#marvel imagine
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Stray Kids as Stray Cats
A cute little thing I thought of
* Length: 1.3K
* Warnings: none
* Genre: fluff
🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛ ♦️ 🐈⬛
Chan:
This good catto looks nice and healthy. He’s a large striped gray cat with shiny short fur and a good healthy weight. He’s not overly affectionate but he’s always up for a head pat or two. Gets along with all of the other cats in the neighborhood and makes sure no one gangs up on the kittens. Bodega owners love him, and a few of them think he’s their bodega cat.
But actually… he isn’t a stray. He has a mommy and daddy and they don’t put a collar on him because they know he’s a responsible boy that comes back home alright. They don’t really bother to clarify to anyone that Chansie is a house cat - they let him enjoy his social life.
Minho:
That one bitch of a cat that’s too damn gorgeous to be a stray but he is. He's a big boy with a long black coat that's ultra shiny. Gorgeous green eyes. You think he’s probably mixed with Maine Coon because of his size and fur.
This mf walks around like he owns the neighborhood, and he kinda does. Girls love stopping to take pictures of him for instagram, and he just lies there like he doesn’t care, giving those instacat angles and looking all fine. Probably has five kitty-mommies and he has evaded multiple attempts of capture from shelters that try to keep his bad boy from filling the streets with his furry babies. No way Jose, Min-hoe isn’t letting some human neuter his prized jewels away.
Changbin:
A very unique brown cat, shortish hair. He looks super plump and cute, has a nice round body with short and thick legs that make you want to PAT PAT the kitty. To your misfortune, baby boy BinBin HATES being pet. You resign yourself to looking at him from a distance, and he looks back indifferently with his petty yellow eyes.
BinBin is a clever cat, he’s made his home in an old lady’s garden. She puts food out for him and he’s got a nice little lawn full of flowers to lounge on, and when it’s rainy he has a little outdoor cat house to stay dry and warm. He was quite smart in picking this particular old lady though; she’s got bad knees and can't crouch down to pet him, plus she splurges on the best cat food since she has no grandchildren.
Hyunjin:
One evening, you’re stepping out of your shower when you’re met with a set of glimmering green eyes from atop the dresser. At first, you scream. Upon further inspection, you realize that it’s a slinky black cat in the dark…
You do not own a cat. How the fuck did this creature get in?
The moment you try to parley with this pussy to try to shoo him out, he rubs up against you and purrs. A lot. Then he does that little thing with his paws that looks like he’s kneading bread, and when you pick him up he snuggles into your neck.
One trip to the vet to get his shots and his boy parts snipped later, and Jinnie is now a house cat. 10/10 will give you a heart attack because he will run away at any chance but come back a few hours later with a dead bird. Loves expensive toys and pretty collars with bells. Very playful and frisky.
Jisung:
Everyone in the neighborhood has a love-hate relationship with this white kitty named JiJi. His fur is short and should be all pearly but this cat is always FILTHY, loves rolling around the wet grass on sunny days, does not let ANY volunteers take him in for a bath. Totally dumpster dives. Both ears are missing their tips: one was from a vet visit where he got vaccinated and neutered, the other from a 5:1 dumpster battle against raccoons.
Often pounces on outdoor restaurant tables and will grab a bite of food - whether by charity or by force. Loves pizza and cheesy things. If he sees a hooman lady, will lay on lap. Hates boy hoomans. Loves scaring people by sitting in the window above their kitchen sinks so that whenever they look up they’re suddenly greeted face to face with a weird cat.
Bites and chases any untied shoelaces.
Tl;dr: terrorizes entire neighborhood but he’s a cat so in the end everyone just goes “aww”.
Felix:
One evening you’re walking home. It’s late and dark and it's been raining and you’re just keeping your head down trying to get home asap so a serial killer doesn’t happen upon you.
But then, right in the middle of the sidewalk… you see… something.
Something tiny… and fluffy…
But wet… and tiny.
And then it meows.
It’s a little squeaky kitty all alone on a cold night. You quickly pick him up and make sure his momma or brothers aren’t around, and it turns out he’s all alone. What you do next isn't a hard choice to make.
You stuff the tiny kitty into your bra to make sure he warms up and you run home, hugging him to your chest. You dry him off, give him some milk, make him a little nest in a small felt hamper that you have and you lay him to sleep beside you. In the morning he wakes up all groggy, but he’s got creamy long fluffy hair with little grey hints - he looks like one of those kittens they edit fairy wings onto on pinterest.
You take him to the vet and he’s got a little cold but he’ll be okay - say hello to your new kitty Lixie.
Seungmin:
Minnie is that cool cat that hangs out on your uni campus. Every student knows him, some bring him food. Looks cute but gets pretty grumpy since everyone is trying to pet him all the time every-fucking-day. He is SICK AND TIRED of being put on everyone's ig stories. Just let him sleep DAMN IT. Loves hissing at unsuspecting freshmen when they cross the petting line.
He’s a cute tabby, big and chonky since everyone is giving him those snacky snacks.
Will often be in lectures. His favorite professor is this gentle old man in the history department, and if you psspsspss him during class, he will walk over to nap on your lap. Sweetest cat ever so long as you don’t overdo the petting.
If he’s feeling playful he’ll knock over all of your pens. And then you’ll pick them back up, and he’ll knock them back down. During uni breaks when the student’s are away he retreats to his vacation home, a bodega.
Jeongin:
Your block. Midday. Clear sky. A crowd surrounds a tree.
THERE IS A KITTEN STUCK IN THE TREE.
You have to climb up to get him down. Nobody knows how he got there, all they know is that everyone wants him. He's a fluffy little tuxedo cat and he’s stealing hearts all over town. People take turns fostering him until he’s a bit more grown, and by then people have gotten him familiar with coming in and out of peoples houses, hence Innie.
Spends a few nights in your house. Cutest kitten ever, super playful. Loves to eat butterflies. He’ll pick up the habit of stealing things and taking them to other people's houses. Shows up to your back door with a whole fried drumstick or someone’s bra, you never know what to expect, but he’s adorable.
Certainly the cause of a neighborhood-wide conflict. This kitten is too cute to belong to a single person.
#stray kids#stray kids fluff#hwang hyunjin#lee felix#bang Chan#lee know#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#seo changbin#han jisung
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Thomas Shelby X Male Reader X Hulmet Zemo
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|| Masterlist ||
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Here is a small crossover between Zemo and the peaky blinders because WHY NOT?! Also, the French I use might not be correct, I only took a few classes of French and then dropped out and decided on Japanese instead :/ please don’t judge me, I’m still learning (°▽°)
Summary: Reader is Thomas Shelbys son, who has been sneaking around with Birmingham’s new Chief Inspector Hulmet Zemo. The two have grow close to each other, but how will he tell Thomas about his secret?
Warnings: Fluff, angst, crossover, language, some French, soft Hulmet, rich baron.
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“Not a single word do you care to utter in my direction. You struggle to find meaning as to who I am and what I stand for. Am I not worthy?”
It has been raining in Birmingham for the last three days. The Shelby family had stayed indoors to help with the bettings. They could be doing something a lot more important but, instead they decided to spend the rainy days counting up the bets and making sure that everything is in track.
Thomas was in his office, reading the paper as he smokes his second cigar of the day. His eyes skimming through today’s events as he lets out a puff of smoke. He tosses the paper aside and puts his cigar out, taking his glasses he sets them down.
Hearing the office door open, he looks up to see his only son, Y/n, stepping inside his office as he closes the door behind him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were helping Polly with counting the bets.” He mutters out as he watches his son approaching the desk. “I got bored.” He hears the other say.
Y/n sits down on one of the chairs and leans his head back, groaning softly. “It’s been raining for days, I want to go out and ride the horses.” He mumbled out, causing Thomas to chuckle at him as he too, leans back in his own chair. “It’s dangerous riding in this weather. It can frighten the horses and you can get hurt, don’t want that happening.” Y/n shrugs as he sits up and looks at the material around his fathers desk.
He reaches out for the paper and unfolds it, reading the front page. “Helmut Zemo.”
Y/n froze at the sudden name as he slowly looks up to make eye contact with his father. “Do you know him?” Thomas asks as y/n slowly shakes his head in response, trying his best to not show any fear or intimidation.
“He’s the new Chief Inspector, has been coming around town for the last couple of days—“ Thomas sighs deeply. “He’s already arrested five of our men, told them not to cause trouble only for them to start a fight at the Garrison.” He slips his glasses back on as he sat up. Y/n looks down at the newspaper and clears his throat, “Why exactly are you telling me this? I know you don’t like it when I get involved with the family’s business. You’ve told me many times to stay away.”
It was true, Thomas Shelby was a protective man towards his own family. He’s always kept y/n safe, ever since he was abandoned by his mother. Thomas wanted him to stay out of the family business, away from any enemies that targeted them. He couldn’t risk losing anymore family members, especially his own son.
“I just want you to be careful the next time you go out.” Said Thomas. “If you see or hear about him—you stay away.” His voices slowly grows dark as he gives y/n a stern look. A look that always frightened the younger man. “I’ll be careful, always have!” He beams out with a smile. Y/n didn’t want to worry his father anymore as he stands up from his spot. “I’ll make sure to stay away from Zemo and away from any trouble.” He assures Thomas. He adjusts his coat and walks out of the office doors before his father could say anything else.
Once he’s out of sight he leans against a wall and lets out a shaky breath, gripping his coat close as he bites his lip. “Shit.” He whispers to himself as he heads back to the betting room, entering a separate room where his aunt Polly was counting the bets. He closes the door behind him and sits In front of her, burying his face in his hands as Polly counts the bets.
“Did you tell him?” She asks with a raised brow.
Y/n groans. “I couldn’t.” He looks up from his hands as Polly rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head, continuing on with the bets. “You’ll have to tell Tommy soon, you should know how your father will react once he finds out first.” She reminds him. He already knew how his father would react if he found out that both he and Zemo have been seeing each other in secret for the last couple of months.
“Polly, I don’t know what to do. I want to tell him about us but, it’s been far too difficult—dammit aunt Pol he’s gonna be angry with me!” He exclaims, his anxiety getting to him as he thinks about all of the bad things that can happen between him and his father. “Pol, what I’m doing his wrong! Falling in love with another men, keeping secrets from my father, betraying the family!”
“Alright enough!” Polly stood up and stands by his side as she pulls him into a hug. “You’re a strong man. I know your father can be stubborn but he will also understand.” She pulls away from the hug and pushes his hair back. “Go and talk to Zemo, figure something out and tell your father or else I will.”
Y/n whimpers at her small threat, he knows that he has to tell his father soon or else he will be the first to find out about him and Zemo and it will not be a fun experience. “I—okay.” He whispers out. Polly gives him a stern nod, “Now go see him and figure something out. I’ll tell your father that you went home and took a cab with you or that you went out for a bit.” She informs him as she walks around the small office she had and grabs his hat, placing it on him as she adjusts his coat and sighs deeply. “Go on.” She nods towards the door.
Y/n bites his líp. “Thanks aunt Pol.” He kisses her cheek before leaving the room. He storms out of the betting shop and into the rain, wincing at the cold weather as he rushes out to go see Zemo.
Polly sits back down and sighs, wishing the boy good luck as she goes back to counting the bets, writing down the numbers and amounts in the book as she lights a cigar for herself before looking up to see Thomas entering the room. “Tommy, thought you fell asleep back in your office.” She says sarcastically as she continues on with her job, it sparing him a second glance. “I came in here to talk about y/n.”
“What about him?”
“He’s been acting strange in the last few days, know anything about it?” He raises a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Nothing.” Polly replies back as she sets a few bills on the side and continues on with a new stack. The room is silent until Thomas speaks up. “He trusts you and I know he’s told you what’s wrong, so—“ he locks the door behind him and approaches pollys desk. “Tell me what he told you.”
Polly glares at him. “The boy is fine Thomas, he’s growing up and needs some time.” She crosses her own arms with a frown on her face. Thomas looks away and clears his throat. “Very well.” He stands up straight and slips his hands in his pockets.
“Then tell me about Helmut Zemo.”
-
A loud knocking was heard throughout the house as Zemo sets his stuff down and heads towards the door to see who it was. It’s been pouring for days, so who would want to be bothering him?
As he answers the door his eyes soften at the sight of his beloved. “Chéri.” He says as y/n gives him a small shy smile. “Hey...” Zemo frowns. “It’s raining, come inside, I’ll get you something to wear.” He ushers the young man inside and closes the door behind him. “Go get warmed up by the fireplace while I get you some clothes.”
Y/n does as Zemo says as he walks towards the living room and stands in front of the fire place. Allowing the warm heat to keep his body from growing colder. “Voici.” He gasps as Zemo places a dry towel around him. “Come, let’s get you changed.” He takes y/n’s hand and guides him towards the bedroom where he had some clothes laid out for him. “Get changed while I prepare us some Tea.” Zemo places a kiss on the back of y/n’s hand, reassuring him that he’ll be close by as he leaves him to change.
Y/n gave a small smile as he begins to change his clothes and into something warm. He makes sure to take his wet clothes back towards the fire place. Spreading the clothes out he sets it close to the warm fire and lets them dry. “Better?” He hears Zemo asks as he stands next to him and hands him a cup of tea. Y/n gives a small nod in return, “a lot better.” He thanks him for the tea and sits on the couch as he drinks the warm liquid.
Zemo sits across from him while crossing his leg over the other and drinking his own tea.
“I couldn’t tell him.”
Zemo raises a brow as he sets his cup down on the table. “What do you mean?” He questions.
Y/n bites his lip. “I tried to tell my father about us but—“ he lets out a nervous breath. “I panicked, thinking that he will grow upset if he found out that his one and only son was sleeping around with the new chief inspector that he hates.” He mutters out as he leans back in his spot and groans.
Zemo chuckles softly as he stands up and moves towards y/n. He reaches out to stroke his cheek with his thumb. “We aren’t just sleeping with each other.” He adds. “We care about each other and enjoy being around one another. I love having you around my chéri.”
He blushes at his the small name, he moves it when Zemo calls him darling, it made him feel all happy inside and cheerful. As Zemo leans down to press their foreheads together, y/n can’t help but close his eyes and let out a small sigh with a smile on his face.
“te iubesc.” He whispers out.
Zemo chuckles as he responds back. “I love you too.” The two look into each others eyes as y/n leans up for a kiss. One that they have shared many times before between each other, he sighs against the kiss and runs his fingers through Zemos hair. “Helmut...”
“Yes my Chéri?” Zemo pulls away for a split second as y/n licks his lips. “as much as I’m enjoying this, we still have to find a way on how I’m going to explain this to my father.” The older man huffs out a laugh as he pulls away from y/n and sits down next to him. “I say we go to the betting shop and just tell him.”
“And let him shoot you on the spot?” Y/n raises a brow. Zemo shrugs a shoulder, “Worth a shot.” The other rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “No, we can’t do that. My father will most likely kill you or find a way too.”
This was a lot harder then he thought. His father was a blinder and he wasn’t stupid, he was able to take down many of his enemies and he would not hesitate to find a way to take down Hulmet himself. He needs to be smart and figure out a way to tell his father without angering him or anyone else in his family.
Biting his lip he thinks of an idea. “I have an aunt who lives in London, maybe she can help us?”
“What make you think your aunt will help?” Asked Zemo.
“Aunt Ada dealt with the same situation as us, she fell in love with my fathers friend. During that time they become enemies and my aunt ada was keeping their relationship a secret, she couldn’t allow anyone to know.” He explains. “Aunt Polly found out first about her relationship and then a few months later she found out about her having a baby.”
“Did your aunt ever tell Thomas?” Zemo asks and pulls y/n close, wrapping an arm around his waist as he kissed his cheek. “No, my father found out on his own. He didn’t like it but accept her and the baby, after that my aunt moved to London, wanting to stay out of the shelbys business.” He cuddles up close to Zemo. The fire keeping them warm as the room grows silent, the sound of rain and wood popping where the only things heard.
“We either tell him or wait until he finds out on his own.” Zemo blurts out. They know that it’s hard, but it’s harder for Y/n. He remembers the time Zemo took him to meet his family. The Barons were royalty and filthy rich, but that never bothered y/n or made him feel any different. Zemos father welcomed him with open arms and quickly grew a liking towards him. Zemos family was very accepting towards them and didn’t care about what others said or thought. But things were different for Y/n. His family was different, they all grew up during a war and his uncles were drafted, along with his father. They all returned back home with a lot of trauma and it was difficult to sleep at night as he would hear his uncles waking up in panic or screaming. His family were Gypsies and they were always mistreated. It took his family weeks before they could officially get on their feet, claiming shops and bars as their own and earning themselves a name. He was a Shelby and the Shelby family always had bad luck.
As it slowly grows dark he leans his head against Zemos shoulder as his eyes slowly began to drop. “Sleep my très chère.” Whispered Zemo as y/n’s eyes close and falls into a deep sleep. “Tomorrow is a big day.”
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Polly was up early the next day, sitting in her office as she counted the bets. She preferred to up earlier than anyone else, wanting to finish her work faster so that she could head out to the bar and have a drink or two.
As she organized her things she hears a set of footsteps running inside the betting shop. “Aunt pol!” She hears Finn cry out as he jogs up to her office. “Is tommy around?” He pants out. “Probably at a bar fucking some whore.” She mumbles out. “Why?”
“There’s a man outside, claims to be Helmut Zemo.” Polly froze, her eyes widening as she looks over to Finn. “What?”
“He wants to speak with Thomas.”
Polly is quick to react. “Very well, Finn go get Thomas at the garrison and bring him back here and quick.” She ushered him a she quickly cleans up her mess only to see Finn still standing there. “What did I just say boy?! Go! Go!” She smacks the boys shoulder as Finn easily gets startled and runs off to fetch Thomas.
It doesn’t take long for Polly to allow Zemo to enter the small apartment. “Mr. Zemo.” She says with a small nod and guides towards the table. “Would you like some tea?”
Zemo steps around the place and sits down, giving Polly a polite smile as he nods. “Please and thank you.”
Polly chuckles. “A man with manners, you don’t see that everyday.” She gets a kettle started and walks around the small kitchen, growing nervous by the minute. “Is there a reason as to why you are here inspector?”
Zemo clears his throat. “I think you already know why.” Indeed she did. “This is about y/n, correct?” She glanced over her shoulder to eye the older man. “Correct.” He repeats back. “Y/n told me that i could trust you, due to you already knowing about our relationship.” He chuckles out. “He talks a lot about you and your family but...Mostly about you.”
Polly smiles at that statement. “Really? I hope it’s all good things.” She removes the kettle from the stove once it’s done heating up and poured them both some tea. She sets the cup in front of him as he thanks her in French, taking a small sip as Polly sits across from him.
“I’m guessing your here to tell Thomas Shelby about your relationship with y/n.”
Zemo stares at the small cup before turning his gaze towards Polly. “I told y/n that we would do this together, but last night I was able to sense his fear. Fear of rejection, fear of losing his family.” He explains. “So, I took the liberty to do this myself. I feel like it’s best if I say something first before anyone decided to blame y/n for his choices.”
“I don’t blame him, honesty. When I found out that our little y/n was dating the new chief inspector. Let alone a Baron, I was a bit surprised.” Polly grins, taking out a cigar as she lights it up and blows out some smoke. “So tell me, what exactly do you want to tell Thomas Shelby?”
Zemo exhales and sits up straight. “I want him to know that I really care about his son. He’s an amazing man and a perfect partner, I treat him with respect and would never think of hurting him—“
“Would you kill for him?” Polly cuts in, reminding him of who he was. Zemo gives her a frown before answering. “Yes.” He’s hurt and tortured people before but he won’t hesitate to have blood on his hands even if it means to keep his own loved ones safe. “Y/n is precious to me, I don’t treat him like a whore and I don’t play with his feelings. He’s a strong man who can protect himself and knows what he is doing but he’s also afraid. Afraid of losing his family, thinking that they’ll turn against him all because he loves an enemy of his father. He cherishes his family and cares deeply about all of you, but he too wishes to start his own life.”
Polly listens to the man carefully. “He’s not a fucking boy anymore, I remind tommy everyday but refuses to listen to me.” She sighs and rubs her temples. “Do you truly love y/n? You did say that you weren’t playing with his feelings, so do you love y/n?”
Zemo gives a small smile. “Avec tout mon coeur.”
With all of my heart
Pollys lip turn into a smile at his response. “Bien.” She said back and glanced over his shoulder to see Thomas hiding behind a wall as he listens into their conversation. Allowing Polly to take control of the situation. “Thomas is a stubborn man but will most likely understand.” She puts out her cigarette. “Y/n is Thomas first and only child, watching him grow were precious moments to Thomas. He really loves his son but the man is no longer a child, he’s an adult now who makes his own choices and decides his own fate.” She mutters out. “Thomas will grow protective, but as time goes by he will understand that Y/n won’t always be by his side.” She targets that statement more towards Thomas who was still in hiding and listening on their conversation.
“I understand if Mr. Shelby doesn’t want me anywhere near y/n, believe me—the first time y/n and I started dating he has to wait until everyone was asleep so that he can sneak out for the night. I would take him on small walks around town or visit my parents home. We usually spent most of our time in the library reading.” He chuckles out, remembering the first date they had.
The man was a nervous wreck, wanting to impress the other but also not wanting to scare him off. During their first days they spent most of their time reading books and talking about literature, something the two enjoyed doing together every once an while.
“I just want y/n to be happy.” He adds.
“And would you promise him that happiness?” Zemo turns around to see Thomas standing Over him with a dark look in his eyes. Zemo doesn’t feel threatened or intimidated by Thomas. “I promise.” He simply replies back as Thomas lets out a deep sigh and pitched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes before opening them and taking in a deep breath. “Very well, Mr. Zemo. I’ll allow my son to continue seeing you—but, if he gets hurt or if anything happens to him. My family and I will hunt you down and I’ll put a bullet through your head.” He says darkly with a harsh glare.
Zemo stands from his seat and clears his throat. “I’ve already said that I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to y/n and if anything or anyone does hurt him then I’ll make sure to kill them myself.” He utters back, giving Thomas the same look as the two men stare each other down.
“Alright that’s enough, Thomas already gave you his blessing so I suggest leaving back to your home before either of you kill each other.” Said Polly as she breaks up their staring contest. “Mr. Zemo—“
“Please, Call me Helmut.”
Polly smiles. “Helmut, I suggest heading back home before y/n wakes up and decides to give himself a panic attack.” She stands in front of Thomas, ready to stop him if he decides to do anything.
Zemo gives the two a nod. “Very well, it’s been a pleasure.” He tells the two. “And the Tea was wonderful, thank you.” He adds before leaving the shop and heading down the busy streets.
Polly lets out a deep breath that she was holding in before turning to face Thomas. “He slept at his place?!” Thomas growls out in anger as Polly rolls her eyes. “When will you understand.”
#male reader#Daniel bruhl x male reader#hulmet zemo x male reader#baron zemo x male reader#baron zemo#tfatws#the peaky blinders#the peaky blinders x male reader#thomas shelby x male reader#thomas shelby x son reader#Thomas Shelby#cillian murphy x male reader#cillian murphy
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since i saw vienna.
a wilbur soot au.
warning: the most wordy/verbose thing I ever made. ready your dictionaries just in case.
It was one rainy day in the city of Vienna—the earthly scent rises above the streets, waters raging in the Danube River. The skies are dark-grayish-orange, signifying the setting of the sun, and Wilbur is sitting in a rugged cushion of a chair, staring at the mood-dropping weather.
Fiddling a coin in his hand, he stands up and walks around the counter, heading to the shelves where the vinyls sat—they are all dusty, as usual, and the man's bored of listening to the muffled rain due to the window—he's in an antique shop, which he owns and works here—it's cold as winter inside, so he wears a khaki coat. It's strange for him to settle and start anew from his old life by means of selling aging things, but it was all he had when his dealer offered him the business.
Looking at the vinyls, he grabs one of them which contains plenty of Liszt's hit pieces—he goes to a nearby gramophone and places the vinyl, pressing the button to spin the record and place the stylus-wielding arm on the vinyl's thinly rough surface—a brief crackle hits his ears before a rendition of Un Sospiro plays in.
He exhales amounts of air he unconsciously held for who knows how long as the opening arpeggios welcome through his ears. He walks back to the counter and sits on the chair, further relaxed as he gently drops his shoulders. This day never felt this dull. He blames it on the weather, but complaining about it is pointless since it has been the first rain after months of consistent summers.
Halfway through the piece, Wilbur's head hangs low, eyes heavy as he's on the brink of closing them as he battles against the tempting sleep—sounds of chimes and door opening washes him hard to sobriety, making him turn up to see who has entered the shop.
A woman strolls around the aisles, wandering on the old and tarnishing objects of metal. His eyes are on her as she walks towards the vinyl records shelves—she wears a bomber jacket, and to his close observation, there are stickers printed on it. The Eiffel Tower of Paris, the American Eagle, a pagoda from Japan, and the Giza Pyramid of Cairo. Surely, there's more stickers on the other parts of the jacket, but he can't spot them because of the woman's constant movement.
She hums while her index finger lightly taps the chin, looking at the vinyls until one catches her attention, making her grab the vinyl. Wilbur recognizes it's a record of Rachmaninoff's piano concertos—she grabs another, which he later recognizes are symphonies of famous composers.
His eyes then trail up to her face. It is fair, like something worthy of painting—especially the dim lights from the ancient chandeliers of the shop, making her stand out. To him, she fits the aesthetic of this atmosphere.
She walks to the counter and places the vinyls down before looking up at him with a smile. "I'mma buy these ones," she says, her voice sounding like that of a youthful woman. "How much?"
"Oh, um…" he trails off and pulls a drawer stuck to his counter, grabbing a piece of paper that contains the list of every price of the antique items. After glancing at the vinyls' price, he turns to the woman, "50 euros, miss."
The woman chuckles—his heart somehow flutters in response. "Fifty euros? How come you're selling vinyls at such a high price?"
"This is an antique shop, miss," Wilbur answers. "Prices rise when an item ages."
"Oh, like that 60-thousand-dollar whiskey I heard? It aged seventy-five years." She pulls out her wallet, running her fingers on the pocketed money. "Yet it only becomes a display for something to brag on to someone's neighbour. 'Cause who would technically drink such a precious bottle of alcohol?"
He hums, nodding. "You do have a point. But vinyls and whiskeys are two different things."
"You're right—what I said was just utter nonsense." She laughs and shakes her head, pulling a few bucks and hands it on to him. "Here's fifty euros."
"I don't think your talk is nonsense." Wilbur takes the money and puts it in the cashier's drawer, turning back at her with a smile. "At least you managed to fill the silence and kill the boredom."
"Do you work alone here?"
He swallows his throat and nods.
The woman's lips fall into a frown. "Explains why you give strong loner vibes, huh?"
"Supposedly," he shrugs, sitting down the chair. Silence falls upon them, and the next piece from the vinyl plays—the first few notes immediately hit Wilbur in realization, making him smile unconsciously. Liebestraum No. 3, his favorite Romantic piece.
The woman exhales a deep sigh, leaning against the counter with both her shoulders laying crossed on the planks. He takes his phone out and is about to turn the screen on, but his finger stops and turns to her—his eyebrows arch up, assuming that she doesn't seem to want to go—perhaps because of the music? There comes an urge to ask her about that, but Wilbur holds himself back—she might think she's a bother and she will simply go away. He wants to savor this moment.
The piece gradually escalates as he glances at her while scrolling on his cellphone—the incoming small cadenza parallels the moment when, in surprise, her eyes catch his stares. Those pair of deep brown irises apparently hypnotizes him—his stomach flutters at the thought of that. Her eyebrow arches up, and so is his other eyebrow, making her smile and stifle a chuckle in response.
Wilbur's eyes then trail down to her lips—they are soft-looking and cherry-red. Then he looks at her hair—smooth and polished like a maiden's flaxen hair. This will remain a moment he will not regret—observing this fair woman in front of him deeper than Mona Lisa, wanting this moment to last forever.
However, out of no reason, he suddenly snaps back into reality, realizing that they have been like this for probably too long now—embarrassment brings a subtle flush on his cheeks, but he tries not to let it show.
"Um…" he trails off, breaking the silence. He fixes his seat and clears his throat, "Sorry to ask this, miss, but...aren't you going to leave now? There's no extra change—you paid the right amount."
"Oh!" She chuckles, grabbing the two vinyls, "Sorry for that. I just wanted to stay a while to listen to that music you played."
"It's Liszt's famous hits," Wilbur says with a smile. "Liebestraum No. 3 was playing recently."
"It's beautiful." She responds, smiling back as well. She glances at the window and her face changes into slight surprise. "Oh, the rain's over."
"Really?" Wilbur asks and looks at the window—there is no more rain falling down, but left droplets on the glass and a slightly blurred view of the dark evening outside. "Huh, it is."
"Anyway, the sky's already dark so…I gotta leave, hmm?" The woman says, turning around and walking towards but not leaving her eyes on him. "Have fun in your little antique shop!" She waves a hand and whips her head away to the door.
"W-Wait!"
His call halts her tracks, making her turn back to him. "What?"
Wilbur swallows his throat, hesitating to say the words he thought a while ago. "I-I'm Wilbur. It's my name."
She hums, lightly pouting her lips. "Wilbur...I will keep that in mind whenever I come back here."
"What's your name?"
"Me?" She looks up, pretending to wonder, but then turns back at him with a teasing expression on her face. "Guess what? It's the capital of Austria."
"Capital of Austria—miss, hang on!" He says, but the door closes, hitting the chimes. His face falls to a part frown, but lights up in the least bit when he remembers her answer to the question.
Capital of Austria. He thinks for a while—and suddenly, his mouth gradually falls agape, eyes widening when he figures the meaning to the cryptic response.
From his lips, he mutters out her name:
"Vienna..."
He slowly nods to himself, smiling while mentally applauding himself. "So that was her name," he mumbles. "It's a fascinating name."
And from that moment on, things have changed further for him. His seemingly dull re-beginning starts to have brand new colors—this time, in vibrant hues than sorrowful shades.
It's strange how his life seemed like a dawning sun through dark clouds by just an entrance of a woman who's simple, yet intriguing for a strange, unknown reason.
A lovers' tale to be told—since he saw Vienna.
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