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jojikawa · 3 years

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Mrs. Bucciarati | Bruno Bucciarati x Fem! Reader | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

┊❥ Part 6 - Down Time

MASTERLIST

✧『Fandom』: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

✧『Character』: Bruno Bucciarati

✧『Word Count』: 3,129 words 16,714 characters

✧『Summary』: The group kills time as they wait for Giorno and Mista to reach their destination.

The group quickly made its way back on the road to Venezia. Mista, Fugo, and Giorno were on the surface, driving the car while everyone else stayed inside to protect Trish as a second line of defense.

Inside the turtle, you had been sitting in between Narancia and Abbacchio. You had sat there first because Narancia wanted to show you something in the magazine he was reading but Abbacchio made it awkward by sitting next to you.

You had taken notice because previously, he was trying to avoid you.

Bruno was sitting on the other side of the table, his head tucked into the laptop that was used for communications. You wanted to talk but you felt like that would be distracting since he wanted to focus.

You didn’t know why but often, you would think of the first time the two of you met and the events that followed. You used to cringe at the memory of it but now that you were sure about your feelings towards him, it was wholesome.

One of your favorite memories with him was during a “charity” event your father held a few years ago. It wasn’t actually for anything charity-related.

Just another excuse to greet Italian capos. You hated it. You hated how corrupt your father was. He had a way of keeping investors while still doing dirty work.

Amongst them was Polpo from Passione in Italy and with him was a young Bruno Bucciarati. He was 17 at the time and you had just turned 16. Polpo agreed to take Bruno with him after much begging on his part. The boy just wanted to see you again.

That night, you were completely upset. Your father wanted you to sing since he and much of the staff agreed you had a nice singing voice. You were too nervous and honestly, you couldn’t even see yourself singing well at all. This upset him and he made you stay by him all night.

The ball was boring until Bruno had arrived. He found you quickly and wanted to talk. He figured that you were being held hostage by your father and wanted to help.

When we walked over, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He said, grabbing your father’s attention. Your father had been speaking to a popular district attorney.

“It’s an honor to have been invited here, Mr. (l/n).” Bruno bowed, trying to seem as gentlemanly as possible.

Your father finished up his conversation before nodding the attorney away and taking a sip of his drink. “Oh, Bruno Bucciarati. I didn’t know Polpo was bringing you. I’m sure I only sent out one invitation.” Your father joked, even laughing when no one found it funny.

You just tried to tune him out, fiddling with your dress that was the same color as your father’s tuxedo.

Bruno humored him, laughing as well. “Well, you see, I couldn’t pass up the chance of hearing (y/n) sing so I had Polpo make room for one more.” His eyes lingered over to you. Bruno seemed so friendly and soft but he was tall for his age and it was almost intimidating…

You looked away, blushing after seeing the innocent twinkle in his eyes when he saw you were all dressed up. Normally, you were wearing loungewear since you were always inside. You looked so stunning!

“That’s too bad because little (y/n) over here decided that she didn’t want to help me pull any investors and she’s not singing at all tonight.” Your father lazily waved his hand in your direction, sipping more of his wine.

“I don’t believe I can sing. I’ve never had any lessons.” You spoke up for the first time. Your father narrowed his eyes at you. “Then after tonight, we’re getting you some.”

You sighed, looking away from your father and off to the side. This was so awkward… you wanted to leave.

Bruno saw what was unfolding and intervened before things could escalate.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. (l/n). I’m sure (y/n) has an amazing voice. She’s just shy and there’s nothing wrong with that. Perhaps, I can help her build her confidence.” He offered his hand to you. You just stared at it.

Your father sighed. “I suppose so. I trust you, Bruno.”

Your father then let you spend the night with him and it was a lot better than just standing around.

All night, Bruno had been such a gentleman and even slow danced with you when no one was watching. You weren't very good and neither was he but you still found it enjoyable.

You had been reminiscing about the past when your thoughts were interrupted by Bruno who had been speaking to Abbacchio.

Bruno had gotten a message on the laptop asking Abbacchio to use his stand to reveal a message that was left behind.

Everyone had gathered around and you got up to look too.

Abbacchio decided to go back 15 hours. The person Moody Blues took the shape off was of the older man you had seen when you all first picked up Trish.

He explained more instructions for the team to follow. You felt so out of place. Everything about this was so bizarre. The moment you get to be with Bruno, you get wrapped up in some elaborate plan. You haven’t sat down with him since you arrived.

When you came to, you saw the image of Mr. Pericolo with a gun to his head. You had only zoned out for a moment! What happened?

Pericolo explained that because of his influence, the enemy knows that he’s helping Bruno deliver Trish. He isn’t a stand user so he doesn’t know how he could defend himself.

His only escape was killing himself before they got to him. It was tragic but these are things you sign up for in Passione.

He pulled the trigger and you saw red before Bruno hugged you to his chest and turned around to block the image of what you almost saw.

You tried to resist but he only held you tighter until the image of it was gone.

“Oh my god!!” You heard Narancia yell.

Trish and Abbacchio were speechless. You had wished that Bruno could’ve used his energy to protect the eyes of one of the children, especially Trish, but it was over now.

You wanted to cry but you were in so much shock. You felt like after everything was over, you would need some kind of therapy. It’s only been a few days and you’ve endured so much trauma. You were just a human.

“Bruno…” you tried to loosen his grip. “…let go.”

He squeezed you again when you had said his name but then without a word, he let go of you. He stood up to talk but his eyes were darkened and he was visibly sweating.

“Mr. Pericolo.”

You were dazed for a moment by his behavior but then you looked over at Trish who must have been traumatized.

You walked over and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry that you had to see that. Are you okay?” You asked, sweetly. Her eyes darted over to you. She was shaking and sweating as well. It hurt you that she had to deal with all of this at such a young age.

“M-mhm.” She nodded and gave your hand a tight squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.” You told her.

You then realize that you would have to comfort Narancia, Fugo, and Giorno, as well. Being a mother figure wasn’t easy. You felt so obligated to be there for all of them but it was impossible.

You didn’t know how helpful Bruno was towards the younger members but you could only hope he took their mental health into account.

Before you could ask everyone about how they felt, Bruno had sent Mista and Giorno to drive while the rest of you stayed inside the turtle.

You couldn’t figure out why Bruno kept sheltering you. He wanted you by his side or inside the turtle at all times. You wanted to be able to help him protect everyone. You were tired of him acting like he could do everything on his own.

It was hard trying to get a good word in since everyone was in such close proximity. To everyone else, the way you and Bruno interacted was similar to parents. All of the kids had prominent parental issues so the two of you served as a support system when they needed it.

You were sitting next to Trish and you were unsure if you should give her space or make yourself available to speak to. You thought that maybe you should use this time to talk to Bruno but Trish had actually spoken first.

“Mrs. Bucciarati, what was your life like before you came here?” Her voice was pretty monotone as always but you could tell she was sad.

“My life? Well, I was pretty much a homebody. I just tended to my garden and practiced Italian.” You answered.

“Practicing Italian? Why?” She looked at you before realizing you weren’t a native Italian. It’s probably why your dialect sounded a bit different than most. You had a more formal way of speaking compared to the others.

“I’m from America and I know Bruno because I’m the daughter of a boss as well.” You explained with a smile. She didn’t reply to you. She just stared at you with her mouth opened a small bit. Maybe she could finally relate to someone.

You then turned your attention to Bruno who had been using the laptop. You were so worried about the boys. It didn’t feel right for you to send Mista and Giorno out on their own.

“Bruno.” You got up from your spot with Trish and went over to Bruno. You didn’t want to create a scene, so just in case things escalated, you spoke in English.

“I know you have faith in the boys, but is it really wise to send them out on their own? I could’ve gone with them.” You said down next to him, not really interested in what he was doing enough to look.

He just hummed before saying. “I don’t want you to be separated from me anymore. The last two times we got separated, you were hurt and every time we’ve been attacked, you were hurt.”

You huffed. “But you told me you were proud of me. You still don’t believe I can handle myself?”

“Cara mia, I know you can handle yourself but I just can’t have you hurt anymore. You were only taught to fight to a certain extent. If either of us makes a mistake then you could be killed.” His voice was firm. He’s never spoken to you in this tone before and it almost embarrassed you.

“But we have made mistakes. We both have. I’ve done my part in helping. I just still haven’t proven myself to you.” You turned away from him, upset that he was babying you and belittling the training you went through just for him.

Bruno look over at you who had been completely facing the other way. He reached over to your shoulder but you lightly jerked it away.

Why couldn’t you just understand that he was trying to protect you? Was it really wise to promise Giorno this ridiculous plan? Your first impression of Italy has just been filled with bloodshed. Although, if he didn’t then he never would have been Capo.

How long would it have taken him to reach the status of Capo normally?

Bruno pushed those thoughts out of his head. Maybe he was smothering you a little. It was just so hard not seeing you as a delicate flower anymore. He wished that he could’ve seen you more.

As an attempt to show affection, he reached out to your hand that has been free and resting on the sofa. The tips of his fingers brushed yours lightly but you had quickly curled them up, hiding them in a fist.

You didn’t seem to want to hold hands either.

Across the room, Fugo and Narancia were pondering on what you two could’ve been talking about. They didn’t know much English either. It was easy for the others to pay so much attention to you because of how new you were to them.

“Hey, Fugo, you know some English right? What do you think they’re talking about?” Narancia asked. “I’ve never seen Bucciarati so soft!” He hoarsely whispered into his ear.

Fugo, who was trying to rest his eyes, was getting annoyed at the boy. “No, Narancia, I don’t know what they’re saying. I’m not going to violate their privacy either. If it were meant for us to hear, then they wouldn’t have changed languages in the first place.” He explained. This made Narancia frown and retract himself.

You figured that maybe you should talk to Abbacchio for advice. You went over to the purple schemed man and Bruno’s eyes followed you curiously.

He watched as you talked to Leone with confidence and not anything at all like he expected. At first, when you first met them in Naples, he could sense your fear for that man but now you didn’t seem like you were at all.

“Leone,” You sighed and his head snapped over to you. You jumped at his reaction. “A-Abbacchio, I mean, sorry.” You raised your hands in defense and began to sweat. His neutral expression didn’t change. Deep down he didn’t mind your voice saying his name.

“As Bruno always called the shots this way? Sending the children out?” You asked softly.

This annoyed Abbacchio but still, his expression didn’t change. Of course, you would want to talk to him about Bruno of all people. Since you’ve been here, it’s just been about you and him and can’t even last 2 minutes apart when you’re just a foot away from him.

He knew that the only reason he felt this way was that he was jealous. He was probably just jealous of Bucciarati the whole time. What would it take for him to get a woman like you?

“Yeah. Always been that way.” He replied. “They know that they’re doing. Nothing new.”

A small gasp left your mouth. Everyone seemed so uncaring of the safety of the boys. But this didn’t have to mean the end.

You just had to be strong enough to protect them yourself. “I see.” That was all you had said. You didn’t care if it didn't seem like Bruno had faith in you or that there were so many children or how nonchalant Leone was about it. You had a stand too and you knew how to use it.

“Th-That’s all.” You smiled nervously before giving the man his space. You scooted further away, not wanting to move around too much and irritate everyone.

When you looked up, you saw that Bruno was just staring at you, watching. He looked upset but not angry. You wanted to comfort him but you were still upset with him. You’ve worked so hard and it’s like it doesn’t even matter to him.

For some hours, you occupied yourself with a magazine. You tested yourself by reading Italian fashion articles and keeping notes of things you wanted to buy with Bruno’s money. You made sure to bookmark pages with nice shoes and dresses you’d like to try on.

Your actions were interrupted by feeling a portion of the couch next to you sink. You looked to your left to see it was Bruno with the computer resting on his lap. He didn’t say a word and only shifted his weight so that his thigh was touching your exposed one.

This made you blush, so hard that physically acknowledged that he had done this when his goal was to be smooth with it.

“B-Bruno-” You whispered. Bruno ignored you, resting a free hand on the thigh closest to him. He leaned over, so close that the message you got was that he was trying to kiss you.

Really? In front of everyone? What’s gotten into him?

“Are you upset with me?” He whispered into your ear.

Your face heated up. You would feel his breath hitting your ear.

“N-No.” You replied, turning your head to him.

His eyes were narrowed and his face frowned. He leaned in further but he didn’t kiss you. He…licked your face?!

You yelped, breaking contact with him. What the hell was that!?

“To me, it seems like you’re lying.”

“Huh? Is this that lie detection thing you told me about? I thought that was a joke…” You wiped the faint sign of saliva on your face. “Warn me next time, okay?”

He chuckled before kissing you softly. “I thought it would cheer you up.” He said in between breaths.

You kissed back tenderly, your cheeks burning at his actions. Was this a dream?

Your minor make-out session was cut short when Narancia had brought you both back to reality.

Butterflies grew inside of you as you covered your face and turned away. You were always such a shy and delicate flower and now he knew that he could tease you with a public display of affection.

Narancia had been volunteering to be the one to go out to be on the surface so that he could use Aureo Smith to find Mista and Giorno.

You parted from Bruno, enjoying the remaining time just leaning against him. His body was warm and his cologne was faint with a hint of sweat from all the intense fighting.

You were an odd couple but the love was undeniable.

Mista and Giorno were found. Mista had sustained a lot of injuries, which the blonde male healed with his stand.

You played your role and scolded Mista at his lack of awareness to which he replied by calling you “Mom.”

“You should be more careful. You can’t always expect your wounds to be fixed. Giorno can’t help you forever!” You tapped his forehead aggressively.

“Hey, Hey! Yeah, I get it, okay, mom?” He swatted your hand away. This made you giggle.

“Mom? Where’d that come from?” You asked, chuckling to yourself.

“ ‘Cause, you’re annoying like one.” He yelled at you with faint pink dust on his cheeks.

You were the first female figure in his life that worried about him the way you did. It was very easy for them to get attached to you since they were all from broken homes.

It has only been a few days but with Bruno’s tough love and your soft and gentle nature, you two were scaffolding for what having parents was like. Minus the killing of the mafioso members pursuing you, of course.

It was unfortunate that such a cute “family” would come to an end.

#jjba part 5 #vento aureo #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #bruno x reader #bruno bucellati x reader #jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #JoJo imagines #bruno bucciarati imagine #bruno imagine #golden wind #jojo bruno #anime x reader #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #jjba headcanons #jojo no kimyō na bōken

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Looking for a Place to Happen 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, toy play, forced masturbation, some content not warned.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Again, I’m always grateful to anyone who reads. Take care.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Wayward ho, away we go

💀💀💀

You bent and picked up your phone. The screen protector was cracked and peeling. You lifted it off and checked for any real damage. The stream had ended but it was still operational. You tucked it away as you looked between the bikers and grabbed your jacket.

“Well, thanks for the show,” you headed for the door but found yourself shadowed.

You swung the door out into the cold and that man, Sam, followed you onto the beaten down snow across the sidewalk. He stopped you before you could evade him and cross the street. You turned back and squinted at him.

“You know, I didn’t even get to pay my tab,” you pulled away from him roughly.

“So, do I get a name yet?” he asked.

“You guys are weird,” you grimaced, “no.”

“Come on, I just saved your ass,” he crossed his arms as his breath fogged before him, “I mean, you kinda owe me.”

“Maybe your friends need to learn to control their tempers,” you scoffed and hopped over the snow to cross the street. As you expected, he kept on and as you came to the other side, you turned on him. “Look, dude, you know that whole hard-to-get thing is a myth. I’m not interested.”

He chuckled under his breath and shoved his hands into his coat, “sure,” he smirked, “I can’t let you walk home alone. Not after you go and insult the whole club. Do you really not know the shit that is aimed in your direction right now?”

“Are you talking about yourself or…” you said wryly and spun back to your path, “it’s a small town, I’ll make it home.”

“Oh yeah, it is a small town,” he caught up to you and kept step with you, “you think I don’t already know where you live?”

You ignored him and zipped up your jacket as the cold began to seep in. As he said your name, you stopped short. A chill went through you that wasn’t the winter.

“You’re a creep,” you said.

He laughed again and slung his arm over your shoulder. You tried to wiggle him off but he kept you firmly in place against him. He began to walk, pushing you forward across cracked edges of ice left from diligent shovels.

“Honey, let me tell you something, what I did back there, you’re not just walking away scot-free, you get that? You want me gone? Well, then you can find out what happens without me watching your back,” he said as he squeezed you, “I can go back right now and tell those boys it’s free hunting. You won’t make it past the corner.”

You stiffened and shifted. You were never the brightest, you made dumb decisions, but you knew then this was worse than any before. Your fun time was really a big fucking mistake. How many warnings did you need before you realised how stupid you really were? It wasn’t just a meme, it was like the godfather sent a horse head straight to your door.

“Hmm, don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet,” he mused as his arm slipped and his hand went to the small of your back. He turned you down your street and you glanced around at the familiar houses, “listen, you’re probably scared shitless right now? Or should be if you were smart enough to notice the gun on my buddy’s hip? Or the one on mine?”

“Is this how you always get girls?” you croaked through your dry mouth as you closed in on your nan’s house.

“I’m sure other guys like the whole snarky manic pixie dream girl thing you got going on, but I’m not other guys,” he returned as he stopped you just at the end of your grandmother’s walk, “and you didn’t just fuck around with a couple of bikers tonight, you insulted the whole club. In fact, I’m a little pressed about it myself.”

He reached out and slid two fingers into your jacket pocket. He took your phone out and turned it in his hand.

“No more of this,” he put it in his back jean pocket, “not tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll go over the rest of it but… if I see one TikTok or one meme, I’m going to be knocking on that window just above your bed.”

You blanched and peeked over your shoulder. The curtains moved as you caught your nan’s grey hair disappear behind it. You put on that stubborn pout you always got when things didn’t go your way and narrowed your eyes.

“You know this isn’t normal, right?” you whined.

He snickered and puffed out his chest, “this is Birch. This is how things go.” He reached out and ran his thumb over your chin, “you’re young, you’ll learn.” He winked and looked over at your nan’s house and waved with two fingers. “Tell the old lady I say hi,” he grinned, “but I can always tell her tomorrow.”

You scrunched your lips as felt like folding inward. He turned and strode off back down the street, his shadow fading into those cast by the streetlights. You sighed and headed up the walk and pounded your soles up the stairs. You let yourself in but faced another obstacle in your night.

Your nan sucked on a cigarette as she watched you unzip your coat.

“I thought you quit,” you said as you hung your coat on the rack.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the club,” she sniffed.

“Well… I tried,” you lied poorly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you did,” she flicked the ash into the carpet without concern, “I’m an old lady now, I can’t help you.”

“He’ll go away. He’s just… you know how guys are,” you knelt to undo your boots.

“I do, do you?” she challenged, “I don’t remember many boyfriends gracing my stoop.”

“He’s not--”

“That man will make himself whatever he wants to be,” she gristled, “that’s how they work.”

“Look,” you stood and rubbed your forehead, “I know I fucked up. Can you just--”

“Oh, I won’t just,” she snapped, “let me tell you something, don’t be afraid to grab a man by the balls and twist. It saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Nan--”

“I’m not saying you should, just giving you options,” she puffed out smoke, “but you gotta be smart and make the shot count.”

“I don’t… get it,” you blinked.

“You will know,” she tilted her head, “women got a sixth sense. You’ll find out soon enough.”

💀

Your nan’s words stuck in your head. Your day off was no longer as exciting. You woke with a knot in your stomach and a dull stone behind your eye. You descended to join your grandmother for coffee, restless as you didn’t have your phone to keep you busy. You fidgeted and drank the bitter brew without a hit of sugar or milk.

There was a lingering shade of dread as the wise widow’s words swirled in your head with the strange man’s promise. He said he’d be back, he didn’t say what time, he didn’t say for what, but he said he would. As much as you rolled your eyes at the club, those men proved they had conviction and Sam had shown himself to be persistent.

You ate porridge with cinnamon and fake sugar. Your grandmother’s daily fare. You left her to her crosswords and her ramblings about the daily news. You told her to change the channel and lighten up before you went. She quipped back at you to “smarten up” and for once, you had no rebuttal; she was right, it was only that it was likely too late.

You sat in bed and watched Netflix. You had your laptop but you didn’t dare look at your TikTok as it just reminded you of the night before. It all began to sink in as you felt the thick arm around your neck and heard the rough gristle of the boss’ voice. You only realised then how close you’d been to biting it and it made your skin crawl.

Hours passed and you began to pace and fuss around with random pens and books. Maybe he forgot, maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe it had all been threats to make you stop. Well, it worked and you would delete your TikTok once you got the nerve to open it.

Then you heard the heavy boots on the stairs and the pounding at your door extinguished the hope disguised as doubt. You cringed and stood in one place as you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You crossed your arms and chewed your lip.

You were very bad at thinking things through. You didn’t consider that you hardly knew this man, though the fact was plain in your mind. You didn’t consider that you’d rarely been alone with a man. You didn’t consider that you knew exactly what his vulgar looks and suave words meant and that your denial could not erase them and all of these things were obvious and unavoidable.

A tapping came at the window beside the door and he waved to you as the blur in your vision cleared. You bit down on the inside of your lip and made yourself cross to the door. He turned the handle as you did and pushed his way past your reticence. He stepped in as you stumbled back.

You were good at acting cool, at being the quirky friend, the goofball, but when it came down to it, you were just clueless. It was better to seem apathetic and not let on how much of a loner you really were. You always wanted to be one of the cool kids but never really were.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he kicked the snow off his boots and it powdered over the mat, “this is a cute little place you have.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m scared, okay? I’ll delete everything and won’t do it again,” you raised your hands defenselessly, “you made your point--”

“Have I?” he sniffed as he let his leather jacket fall down his arms, “because I’ve been thinking all day. How to punish you. You see, these things, you have to be punished. That’s the rules.”

“I…” you backed away from him slowly as he sat in the wicker chair behind the door and unlaced his boots.

“Not my rules, the club’s,” he said flatly, “now, don’t be lookin’ at me like that because if I’d left you with those other boys, you’d be in the rubble of that garage.”

You gulped and hugged yourself as your eyes rounded. His eyes clung to you and he grinned as he stood.

“Well, I know you’re telling the truth at least,” he said, “you’re scared.”

He neared and walked past you. He circled you and slapped your ass. You flinched and he chuckled. You were startled at how quickly he’d disassembled you. You tried to ready yourself mentally all day for his arrival and yet you could never be prepared for that instance.

He strode along the other side of the bed and pulled out the top drawer of your night stand. He shuffled through your things and slammed it. He turned back and went to your dresser and slid out the slender drawer of necklaces and random receipts. He felt around blindly and you heard the familiar roll against the wooden bottom.

“Ah, jackpot,” he pulled out the silicone vibe and spun it between his fingers as you watched him over your shoulder, “I knew a girl once, kept it hidden under her mattress, another had this vase on her desk… but mostly, no one puts much thought into hiding when no one’s looking.”

“What are--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you as he put his finger against his lips, “it’s a very simple punishment and if I’m being honest, and let’s be clear I’m being very generous here, it’s not much punishment at all.” He took your hand and pushed the vibe against your palm, “you just gotta use that.”

You furrowed your brows as his warm hand closed yours around the silicone and he squeezed. You trembled and he let you go as he winked.

“Chop, chop,” he clapped his hands, “I can always come up with something else.”

You searched his face as he backed up and leaned on your dresser, arms crossed over his thick chest as his biceps bulged through his long sleeves. You peered down at the toy in your hands and traced the subtle curve with your thumb.

“Get comfortable, honey,” he coaxed, “when you finish, we’re done… for tonight.”

You were breathless as you turned away from him. Your head spun and you recounted all your mistakes as they rushed over you. You were so stupid. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself but that didn’t make it any easier.

And you couldn’t do it. Even alone, you were always filled with the sense that everyone knew what you were doing with the vibe. That some lurker would hear you and expose your secret. A guilt atoned only in your pleasure.

“Tick, tock,” he chirped as you heard the wood groan against his weight, “you need help?”

“N-no,” you stuttered and dropped the toy on the bed.

You fumbled with your fly for what felt like forever. Your hands were shaking so bad and stopped as you asked yourself what you were doing. What you had to. You had no doubt in his promises. You were learning the hard way like you always did.

You shimmied your jeans down and slid them to your ankles. You got up on the bed and he tutted.

“Panties,” he snapped his fingers, “don’t be shy.”

You didn’t look at him as you lifted your ass and tugged down your panties. You kept your legs together as you unhooked them from your ankles and shoved them aside. You cleared your throat and reached for the toy as his figure loomed along the top of your vision. You clicked the button and stared at the buzzing vibrator.

“Almost there, honey,” he purred, “I’m starting to think you’re liking this already.”

You sucked in your breath and pushed your legs apart as you closed your eyes. You put your hand on the bed behind you and leaned back as you shoved the toy against your cunt and hissed as it rolled over your clit. You cupped it with your palm and moved it over your bud as the ripples flowed from your core.

You clamped your lips in your usual habit. You held in the moans that threatened and tried to ignore the soft breath of the man in the room. Your whole body was alight with shame and lust fed by the vibrations. You dropped your head forward and winced as you sensed him come closer.

“Oh, honey, look at you just diving right in,” he taunted, “that’s it… you don’t gotta be quiet with me.”

“St-st-stop,” you rasped out, “I can’t--”

“You are,” he slithered, “now keep going. I see you getting close already.”

You squeezed your eyes tight and gripped the toy between two fingers and swirled the tip around your clit. You wanted it to be over and despite yourself, his voice fed your need for release. You hummed between your teeth and arched your back as you rocked your hips against the vibe hungrily.

“Mm mm mm, honey, I don’t think you could handle a man,” he teased.

You gasped and panted as you felt the pressure pulse and you sped up. Your other arm shook and collapsed as you fell onto your back and writhed as you closed your legs around your hand and the toy. You came with a whimper as your body shook and you turned onto your side as the orgasm echoed through you.

“Very good,” he cooed and you felt a dip in the bed. You opened your eyes as he leaned his knee on the edge, “smile for the camera, honey.” You gaped at the lens of your phone and snickered as he lowered it, “now that… I think that might go viral.”

“Wha-- No,” you sat up and reached out as he stepped back and you nearly toppled over the side of the bed.

“Hmm, I might keep it to myself,” he tapped his fingertip against the back of the phone, “I don’t really like to share…” he faced you again and tucked the phone away, “I usually keep my girls to myself.” You blinked and bent your legs as you tried to cover your bottom half. He pushed his chest out and exhaled, “you are mine, right, honey?”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sequel #birch #biker boys of birch #biker au #biker!au #marvel #mcu #captain america #falcon #tfatws #avengers

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 2- Panic At The Disco

Intro: You head to the hospital as Paul’s life hangs in the balance and as you wait for news, you start to reflect on the early days of your relationship.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So, you migh recognise a few familiar names/faces in this as well- I can assure you this isn’t an Avengers/Diskant AU, just a way for me to pay tribute to a few of our faves…because, why not!

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 1

"All units, we have a possible 2-4-5 in progress at 4223 E Palm, South of Figueroa and 1st. Unit responding is requesting back up, 11-9-9, Code 3."

"Unit 613 responding, Code 3."

The call went out over dispatch and you felt a slight relief at the fact support was on its way. You took a deep breath, held firm, your weapon poised as your partner stood next to you.

"LAPD, drop the weapon and come out with your hands up. We will fire." Officer Barton, a long time veteran on beat called out. "Panny, hit the porch."

You nodded and walked the short steps, bracing yourself against the stucco near the jam.

"Come on Garcia, your old lady called it in, I have back up coming, bro. You don't want this to go down worse than it is," Barton shouted. "Don't make my Rookie work hard today, man."

Lights and sirens filled your ears and soon a second unit had arrived on scene. The suspect, now surrounded, soon surrendered, his weapon dropped to the ground as he came out of his home with his hands up.

The second unit to respond to the call was helping Barton with the arrest while you headed inside to check on the girlfriend who'd called it in. She was beat up and bloodied, a bullet graze across her upper left arm. Paramedics were treating her as you wrote down everything she could tell you for the report to be filed later.

You gave the woman’s hand a little squeeze as you promised her you’d be right back and headed outside where you saw Barton stood talking to one of the duty sergeants from the second unit and another officer who you hadn’t seen before.

"She's requesting an escort, both medics are male," You said to Barton.

“Okay.” Barton nodded. “You good to take it or do you want me to call back and request someone take over?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good, I could use the overtime. It’s no problem.”

"Rookies, always looking for the pay out," Barton laughed at you and you snorted before you looked back at the house.

“Well, to be honest I wanna make sure she’s okay, she’s beat up pretty bad.”

"Yeah, well this isn't their first 240 but now, it's bumping to a 273D, if she keeps the chargers." Barton nodded. “Okay, go with her and I’ll file the initial report when I get back. You can add your details to it later.”

“See, we’re not always money grabbing assholes.” The officer you’d never met before turned his eyes to the sergeant who met his look with one of his own. “Some of us rookies are simply driven by our social conscience.”

As the two men looked at one another it was clear that the statement meant something, and you could probably take a good guess that the officer in question had also had his fair share of rookie jokes at his expense. It was part and parcel of being a newbie.

“Oooh I’m sensing a little bit of tension there, Barnes!” Barton looked at the sergeant who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“He’s a wise guy, thinks he’s funny.”

“I don’t think it, I know it.” The buzz cut man shrugged. “Why else does everyone laugh at me when I walk into a room?”

At that you couldn’t help a little chuckle of laughter as your eyes looked over the hood of Sargent Barnes' black and white and caught the name plate of the wise ass, before your eyes flicked up to his face. A pair of shades were pushed up on top of his shorn light brown hair, revealing a pair of blue eyes which were twinkling slightly with good humour. He was clean shaven with a strong jawline, and a pretty handsome profile with high cheekbones and a smattering of freckles over his nose. Two strong arms folded over a broad chest, as he stood tall, a good inch or so above Sergeant Barnes and a fair few over you.

His eyes caught yours, a smirk curling in his lips as he clearly thought you’d been checking him out.

Which, to be fair, you had, and all in all, he was pretty damned hot.

"Don't I know you?" He asked, his hands unfolding from across his chest and coming to rest on his utility belt, either side of the buck.

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head.

“I’m sure I do. I never forget a pretty face.”

You laughed at the blatant pick up line and looked at Barton who was watching, his eyebrow raised. You shook your head and turned back to make some sly quip of your own before the medic interrupted the exchange, telling you they were ready for transport. You nodded before once more switching your attention back to the three men around you.

“It’s been a pleasure, gents.” You smiled, nodding to both Barton and Sergeant Barnes before you turned to look at the other man. "Diskant.”

He feigns a pain to his chest with a hard slap of his right hand over his heart. "Uh, you do know me! That hurts."

“Read your name tag.” You shrugged and with that you turned and left.

The red and blue lights of the black and white bouncing off the concrete exterior of UCLA Medical Centre as you arrived brought you out of your memory. Officer Weiss opened the door for you and escorted you inside where the waiting room had been cleared and you were met with the somber faces of not only Captain Biggs, but Paul's Captain, Sam Wilson. But what brought your world crashing down on you for the second time that night was seeing your own Captain, Steve Rogers, waiting for you. Wilson had to have called him in.

"Steve," your voice quivered as your Captain and friend wrapped an arm around you. Sam, too, pulling you close. "What...." you couldn't even get the words out, each syllable choked back by the closing of your throat, sobs threatening to escape.

"We don't know, not yet. The call came in as an officer down, unit in pursuit. Medics arrived and called in code blue, 10-45C GSW to the neck. As soon as they arrived he was wheeled into emergency surgery," Captain Biggs explained.

The air left your lungs at the news and you near hit the floor, both Rogers and Wilson catching an arm, and had you been more with it, you’d have clocked the worried look that your Captain shot Sam. He'd known you since your training at the academy, his eye on you for SWAT from the get go, and never had he seen your lose control in such a way. You hadn’t on the job, not once. It was something you prided yourself on.

Biggs grabbed a chair from the wall behind him, where a dozen lined the sterile white space, and allowed you to flop into it. Your hands were shaking, legs bouncing on the balls of your feet, the tore up converse you’d slipped on squeaking a little on the clinical floor. You’d dressed in such a haste, your skinny jeans being grabbed straight back off the top of the hamper for you to put on, one of Paul’s hoodies being pulled on over a tight camisole. Whilst you hadn’t given a single thought to what you were wearing, clearly your subconscious had wanted to be near him, and you were glad as you pulled the dark grey item round you tighter, breathing in his smell. And you were reminded of the first time you were able to really be close enough to smell his cologne or deodorant, a smell that was uniquely Paul Diskant.

It was Friday and your shift had just finished. It was the first time your rest days had fallen over a Saturday and Sunday, and you were making the most of it. A few from your team were heading to Jack's Bar for a few beers and, you suspected, a lot of shots and probably karaoke later, apparently that’s how your team nights went down.

You’d been there a few hours and your rounds had all gotten out of sync, as was always the case when everyone had had a few, so you stood up to head to the bar to get yourself a refill, cringing at the cat-screeching masquerading as singing which was ringing around the room. You found a space, placing your empty glass on the smooth wood of the bar and stood waiting for the bar tender. You hadn’t been there long when someone sidled in next to you, their elbow lightly brushing your arm and you glanced up to see the handsome, buzz-cut officer that had attended the 273D you’d dealt with in the week.

“Did you bring your cuffs?” He asked and you frowned, looking at him.

“What? Why?”

He jerked his head over his shoulder in the direction of the woman singing, “because she’s murdering Shania Twain and whilst she may feel like a woman, personally I feel that as police officers, it’s our duty to prevent crimes of this nature.”

You groaned out a laugh, “Jesus, you’re terrible”

“My name isn’t Jesus, but give me a chance and I’ll make you say ‘Oh God’,” he shot you a wink, “how’s that for terrible?”

You laughed and shook your head, cocking it slightly to one side as you studied him for a second. And then, you decided on a little joke of your own. “It’s Disco, right?”

He groaned, dropping his head in a dramatic sigh. “Diskant. Come on, you read my name tag, remember?”

"Diskant." You shrugged, "Close enough."

He chuckled, nodding to your drink that was down to the foam at the bottom of the glass, "what are you drinking?"

"Beer," you replied.

"Any beer? Or..."

"The Heff," you nod to the taps.

Diskant waved the bartender over, "Jack, can we get another round, one for me and one for Officer...."

"Y/L/N."

"Officer Y/L/N. Whatever she's drinking."

"It's Paul by the way," he smirked at you while dropping some cash on the bar top as Jack returned your beers.

"Thanks for the beer, Disco," You winked and walked off to join your partner and the rest of the shift team.

“Woah, it’s like that? I buy you a drink and you bail, without even telling me your name?” He scoffed and you turned to look at him over your shoulder, giving him a smirk.

“Yeah," you shrugged, and when you turned away you could feel his eyes burning into your back.

Later, you saw him laughing in a full body tilt, eyes crinkled and his smile exploding. His partner, whom you'd recognized again as Barnes, had said something ridiculous causing the table to erupt.

You headed to the bar and ordered a round of shots for your team and another beer to chase it. But sent one over Paul's way, with a note on the napkin.

When the waitress took the beer to him, she placed the napkin down first, making sure he saw the scribbled note.

'Now we're even. - Y/N'

You watched as he read the note, a huge smile breaking over his handsome face and he turned, bright eyes searching the bar. When they fell on you, he arched his brow and raised his beer in thanks. You gave a sharp jerk of your head to show you’d seen and turned back to your team.

From then on, he was a persistent little shit. He'd somehow figured out your shift patterns, catching you in and out of the doors to the station as you'd be coming off shift and he starting his. Barton liked to give you shit for it as he'd always walk with you out, calling Diskant "your lost, little puppy-dog" and the unit were quick to catch on. It was all in good fun, until one day, you'd worked a tough shift; chasing down a couple of suspects and catching yourself up on a fence, gashing your arm good. Medics treated you at the scene, but told you that it required stitches. You finished you shift anyway and like clockwork, there he was walking in as you were out.

"Hey Y/N, you okay?" He'd expressed concern as your face was blatantly displaying your discomfort and mood which wasn’t great.

You were tired, irritated and in pain, now that the day was over, you wanted to just go home, so you seemed to snap in reply, "What the hell is it gonna take for you to just go away?"

Your response took him back a bit as he raised his hands in defense."Whoa, relax," his voice was soft and careful.

You sighed and stepped out of the way of the different people coming in and out the doors. He followed. "I'm sorry, that was shitty. It's just been a really long day."

"It’s okay, I get it. Look, I'm off today, I was coming in to get some stuff I left in my locker. I'm sorry if I've crossed a line somehow."

You thought to yourself for a moment. He hadn't crossed any line, not one that made you uncomfortable. You had your own reservations about dating someone from work, but it wasn’t like no one else did it, hell, half the entire force seemed to be married to one another, and if you were honest, you were actually kind of attracted to him and you found his flirty way of things to be fun and you liked it.

“No, you didn’t, like I said, bad day.” You shook your head. “I gotta head to the clinic for some stitches, and if I’m honest, I’m not a huge fan of needles so...."

He frowned “you hurt yourself?”

"Got hung up on a chain link chasing a perp through an alley. Finished the shift with the bandages from the medics, now I gotta take care of it."

"Do you... errr...", he moved out of the way of someone leaving the building and scratched the back of his neck, "do you need a lift up there or something, I got nothing else on."

"I could use a ride, sure," you shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Okay, well gimme two minutes to grab something out of my locker and I’ll be with you in a second.”

You headed out of the way of the various traffic in and out of the station and perched on the low wall that surrounded the parking lot. True to his word, Diskant emerged a few minutes later, sliding his shades down from his head to his eyes, a bright pink gift bag in his hand and for some inexplicable reason, you felt your heart sink at the sight of the item in his hand, it was clearly for a woman.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” You asked, nodding to it as he stopped in front of you. A smirk crossed his face and a brow arched over the top of his wraparounds.

“Is that your way of asking me if I have a girlfriend?” He quipped and you hastily shook your head, lying through your teeth.

“No, I was just…making conversation. Besides, you might be gay for all I know.” You finished lamely and he snorted.

“Well, I’m not, and it’s for my Mom. It’s her birthday tomorrow and she’s a pain in the ass for finding her presents in my room or wherever I hide them. That and I actually only picked it up yesterday and forgot about it.”

"None of my business." You shrugged and at that he sighed, looking down before he glanced at you, chuckling.

"You asked, sweetheart."

The pet name had you feeling a little warm around your neck. Thankfully, Diskant then led you to his car, the conversation moving swiftly onwards as you explained in a little more detail how you’d gotten your injury. By the time you’d finished you were out of the parking lot and had joined the steady stream of traffic on the main road.

“You should count yourself lucky that it was only your arm.” Paul mused, his thumb tapping the steering wheel. “One of the first shifts I ever did ended with the guy I’d been partnered with straddling a piece of razor-wire.”

“Ouch.” You winced and Paul wrinkled his nose.

“Lot of blood and screaming.” He sniffed. “Mind you, every cloud and all that, he said it would save him and his wife a fortune on a vasectomy.”

You blinked before your mouth fell open in disbelief and you scoffed, shaking your head. “Bullshit.”

“I swear down…”

“Don’t believe you, Disco.”

“Well, I’m offended on two counts. First that you think I’m untrustworthy and second you know that’s not my name.” He shook his head, hanging a right.

You shrugged, “I like it, it suits you.”

“I used to get that all the time at school.” He shrugged, “fucking everyone used to sing that damned D-I-S-C-O song in the halls.”

“Okay, now that’s in my head.” You smirked, and you opened your mouth to sing but he cut you off.

“Just, no.”

You laughed and took a deep breath. “Well, if it makes you feel any better my team call me Panny, short for Panic. On account of the fact I never seem to.”

At that he snorted, “yeah, I’m not calling you that, that’s, fucking awful!”

You let out a low chuckle, “Y/N’s fine.”

“Mind you,” he stole a quick glance at you before his eyes went back to the road. “Panic at the Disco, not a bad band.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled a little. The conversation flowed with little interruption or awkwardness and once you arrived, your time at the clinic seemed relatively fast. You'd figured he'd left as you'd said goodbye to one another when you'd entered the clinic but to your surprise, and catching you a bit off guard, he was still waiting.

"You didn't have to wait." You smiled at him and he shrugged.

“How else you gonna get back for your car?" His eyes flicked down, noting the clean wound and stitches in your forearm.

“Uber?” You shrugged and he paused, before he took a deep breath.

“Okay, you could have but my mom taught me never to leave a lady in need of help.”

"I was in there for an hour," You chuckled.

“Yeah, and now I’m kinda hungry, are you hungry?"

“Diskant…”

"There's a little place I know where we get some great quick food."

"And if I say no?"

"I'm a gentleman and no is no, I’ll take you back to the lot and you get in your car.” He paused, "and then I'll go home and weep into my pillow as I deal with your rejection."

You laugh loudly, genuinely amused, "fine, take me to dinner."

"Woah, I didn't say anything about dinner. I said food."

"Fine, food, let's get some food."

With a grin he gestured for you to lead the way and you headed out of the medical centre back to his car.

It turns out the place he’d been meaning was the Santa Monica Pier. And the food he had in mind was hot dogs and fries, which suited you absolutely fine.

"Alright, I gotta hand it to you, this is a pretty good hot dog and the beer isn't half bad," You tilted back the drink and smiled. "But, it doesn't beat Coney Island."

"Never been," he shrugged, "so I'll have to take you at your word."

"What else do you take me for? Obviously, you're swindling your way into something."

"I resent that accusation, Y/N."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you just suckered me into a date." You teased and he paused, turning to face you. “And, seeing as you said that was what it would take to get you to leave me alone…” “No, this is not a date.” He cut you off, shaking his head.

“Hmm, just the two of us, you bought me food, pretty sure it counts as a date.” You wrinkled your nose, your tone flirty and Paul shook his head once more.

“Nope. Absolutely not. There’s a vital element missing.”

“What?”

“I haven’t kissed you.” He signed dramatically. “So, I’m afraid that if you want me to count this as a date then you’re gonna have to lay one on me.”

“Oh my God-“ You burst out laughing, “You are-“

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, Y/N!”

“So, to be absolutely clear, if I kiss you this counts as a date?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Well,” You popped a shoulder, stepping a little closer to him, your eyes flicking from his to his lips, “what the hell.”

You brought your lips to his, a littler firmer than you'd thought but the feel of his mouth against yours was soft and in a way delicate and as you began to pull away, his arm looped around your rib cage and pulled you back in for a longer, deeper kiss that if you'd been honest with yourself, made your stomach tilt and your toes curl. The way his tongue dipped into your mouth was delightful, the salty hoppy taste of the beer and fries you were sharing still an essence in his mouth.

Breathless, you pulled away, “You gonna leave me alone now?”

“Not a chance.” He chuckled and leaned in again for a third kiss.

"Y/N..." the voice calling out to you was familiar but your head was pounding and nothing but a fog had filtered over you. Tearfully coming out of your memory, you looked up to see Dorothy, Paul's mom standing before you, her husband Jim in the background talking to Sam.

"Hi," you croaked and stood from your chair. She immediately wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry... I didn't..."

"Its okay, Jimmy called us after Sam had called us both." She tearfully explained. "We came as soon we'd heard." She nodded to James Barnes, Paul's former beat partner who was talking with Jim, Sam and now Steve.

"Dotty, I... I'm scared." You cried and she took hold of you again. Together you cried until Jim came and hugged you both, his eyes tearful but his demeanour strong. As a force veteran himself, Big Jim Diskant knew all too well how these things could happen but never did he want to believe it'd be his own son wounded in the line of duty.

Barnes was quick to hand you a tissue and you accepted with a sad, soft smile in thanks. "He's gonna pull through, doll. Just you watch. You can't get rid of him that easy."

Your quivering lip turned to a wobble until you saw the doctor emerge from the double doors that led into the body of the hospital. His scrubs were bloodied and you feared the worst as he called out, "family of Paul Diskant."

The world around you felt like it was moving at a snail's pace, your stomach in your throat as you, Dotty, Jim and those there to comfort you all made their way to the doctor.

"We've moved him into the ICU. He's critical, however, I'm hard pressed to say stable. He's not out of the woods yet. The bullet hit his carotid artery which supplies the brain, face and neck and while we were able to remove it, he's lost a lot of blood and I feel it's best to keep him medically sedated until some real healing takes place. That's all up to him on how long that will take and how his body works. Unfortunately, until he wakes up, we won’t be able to determine if there will be any long lasting damage due to the loss of blood to the brain. You should know, we nearly lost him once during the procedure and I know he coded twice before arrival. He's a fighter, that's for sure. For now, he just needs time."

"Can we see him?" Dotty asked, the words not able to leave your lips.

"You can. One at a time," the doctor replied. "ICU rules. I can take the first of you up with me now."

Dotty very quickly turned to you, "go on." You looked at her like a deer in headlights. Jim nodded in agreement with his wife.

"Follow me," the doctor nodded to go with him and as he did, he handed you a small plastic bag. "We had to cut it off. I'm sorry."

He placed the bag containing Paul's St. Christopher medal in your hand. It was covered in blood, no doubt from what had happened and the weight of it felt heavier than it ever had before in your hand as you joined the good doctor on the lift up.

It had been a month into your relationship when your parents decided to head out for a week trip to New York, your dad making good on his promise to treat your mom for their anniversary. That meant that you and Paul were playing house for the week.

After seeing them off, you'd proudly tidied up and made sure you pampered yourself before your date night to kick the week off. Fridays post shift were usually spent at Jack's but, you were off and Paul and Barnes were already day shift, as if the stars had perfectly aligned for tonight. Your gut was telling you that after a month of heavy, very heavy petting, absolutely breath-taking make out sessions and a few down the pants moments, tonight just might be the night things would change for the two of you. And if not tonight, then hopefully while the two of you were shacked up for the next five days.

A few hours of primping, preening and a ridiculously relaxing bath, setting fire to that very diamonds and pearls side of you, you picked out your nicest lingerie, a little all black set of bra and panties that hid lines well in your selected sleek black dress. Paul had said the two of you were going for a nice dinner, and he promised it was truly a nice dinner, not like the last he'd said was nice and you two laughed your way through burgers at the Beach Hut. He was going to pick you up at five, and you needed to be ready.

Punctual as always, your doorbell rang and there he was, duffle in one hand, flowers for you in the other. He always brought you flowers on your dates and you loved the old fashioned in him that clearly was a product of his parents love story.

You smiled at him from behind red lips and smoky eyes, your hair down and straight. "Hey! Thank you!" You took the outstretched flowers and welcomed him in.

"Wow," he whispered, getting the full view of you as he stepped inside the doorway. "Sweetheart, you..., wow."

“You said nice... so if you’re taking me to some dive, Disco, when I’m dressed like this there’s gonna be trouble.”

"I promise, it's nice." Dropping his overnight bag next to the stairs, he followed you into the kitchen as you put the flowers in a vase. You turned from the island and his lips were on yours. "You do look beautiful, but if you want to get into trouble, I've got my cuffs in the car."

You didn't miss the fire in his eyes and the feeling between your legs. “I thought only bad girls get the cuffs?”

"Maybe we should see how bad you can get."

"You're gonna have to feed me first."

“Damn, you drive a hard bargain.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, "You think that's hard, you should..."

His finger covered your lips, "don't, don't finish that sentence or we'll never make dinner. THAT I can promise."

You smirked and pulled away from him fully, grabbing your hand bag off the entry table, "I'm ready, let's go."

The meal was divine, expensive and rich in place and taste, you dined on steaks and lobsters, Paul pulling out all the stops for such a new relationship and start of a fun weekend. You didn't mind, but you also knew that you'd have been fine with something simple too.

"You know you didn’t have to spend so much, I’d have laid on my back for a sub," you sighed contently as he drove you two back to yours.

"Well, in that case, fuck it, next time it's Subway."

"Is that what this was? You buttering me up so I'd sleep with you, Disco?"

“No, that’s...” he stopped and shrugged, “did it work?”

All you did was smirk back at him. From then, until tires skidded into the driveway, Paul drove at lightspeed, making a snarky comment about needing a red light for the dash or wishing he was in his squad car because he couldn't get you home fast enough. You were barely in the door before he was all over you, hands tangled through your hair, you kicking your shoes off at the bottom of the stairs. His strong arms and big hands lifted you off your feet as you clawed at him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist while he carried you up the stairs. It was a mix of breathy sounds and lots of tongue until your back hit the lamp at the landing stair, causing it to tilt, and the bulb to break.

Shit," Paul cursed against your lips.

"I'll get that later," you replied, continuing to fight for dominance in your kiss.

He managed to get you to your room, but your pace slowed down as you entered, the heat lowering to a simmer unlike the two horny teenagers you’d both been in the stairs and hall. Your toes curled into your plush carpet as he set you down. Breathless and chests heaving, you kissed each other softly and slowly as your fingers unbuttoned his shirt, trying to hide your nerves. Your nails raked down the chest of his crisp white tee he wore underneath. You could feel his heart under your palm.

Your eyes looked into his and you saw deep and beautiful blue pools staring back at you, a soft twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He took a half breath and his lips covered yours, his tongue slowly rolling over your top lip to pull you in. It made your stomach drop in need, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to close the space between you.

His big hand splayed over your right ass cheek and held you there against him while the other hand cupped your face. If anyone were to walk in, they'd think you were one person, the two of you were so close to one another. Then you felt his hand trail over the curve of your backside, closer and closer to the start of your zipper. You felt your dress grow looser as he pulled the little metal piece over the teeth of its track.

His lips trailed over your skin, and you could feel his heart now racing through his pulse point in his neck. Your eyes met his as he pulled away a second, "me too," You whispered.

A breathy chuckle left his lips and you pulled your dress away from your body, allowing the fabric to hit the floor. You felt naked despite the bra and panty set, his gaze taking all of you in. By no means was this your first time with a man, but it was your first time with Paul, and so far, you'd never felt or experienced anything like this and he wasn't even inside you yet. It was like your skin was on fire from the inside out, all of your nerves firing at once, causing everything to tingle and your breath to catch as your heart threatened to leap from your chest.

His foot stepped between yours and he placed his hands on your hips, gently backing you into the bed, his lips sealing with yours, your hands holding his forearms to steady yourself. His hands cradled you as the two of you fell into the mattress, his body covering yours, his lips traveling down your neck and nipping at that sensitive spot that made your panties pool and your thighs clench. Your hands shoved the material of his button down over his shoulders and, as his lips carried on toward the swell of your breasts, he flung the shirt wherever it landed.

You smirked as he figured out the bra you had on was front closure and with a snap your breasts were freed.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he said with a tone you'd never heard from him before.

He had his mouth on you before you could reply, your skin flushing and that twist of stomach igniting with pleasure. His hot tongue lolled around your nipple before suckling it between his teeth and giving it a little pull. You moaned as he pulled away, your fingers scratching at his neck. He smirked against your other breast as you arched into him, his free hand running over your hip and behind you to palm your ass as your leg lifted and bent a knee at his hip.

"I....oh God," you purred as his tongue licked and his mouth sucked, alternating between your breasts. "Fuck, I... Paul, please."

He sat back and ripped his shirt over his head, adding it to the pile. You could see he was solid from your foreplay and you knew the size he was packing. Your stomach twisted in anticipation.

"Please... What?" He said softly as he left hot, wet kisses up the inside of your thigh. "You know, for a trained police officer I would expect you to have a little more self-control, Baby.”

"Shut up..."

He nipped at your thigh, and you moaned obscenely, your muscles twitching. "You gonna tell me what you want?" He nipped again, higher this time. "Or.."

"I need you."

“I asked what you want...”

"Fuck me."

Quickly he was standing, undoing his belt and pants while pulling a condom from his back pocket. You laid there amazed and in awe of the thick muscles of his entire body, the bare chest and tight abs he had on display. You'd seen his thick and full length before, hell, you'd even put your mouth around it but now, all you can think of is how it would feel deep inside you. Your eyes watched him with a hunger you could feel coursing all through you, the way he rolled the latex circle down his shaft and kneeled toward you on the bed.

He pulled at your panties, peeling them away from your body, your legs lifting to remove them fully. You were soaked as he tested your folds, slicking the head of his cock. It felt so good already, you were squirming by the time his head dipped inside you. He caged you in with his body as he pressed into you little by little until you were both moaning at the perfect fit as he became fully seated inside you. His St. Christopher medal dangled between the two of you as it ghosted across your chest.

Your hand gripped the medallion as you gave a gentle pull, his lips barely touching yours, "I said fuck me, Diskant." You sealed your words with a hard kiss, nothing but tongue inside his mouth and his hips snapped, again the two of you making lewd sounds as your bodies joined together.

He broke away from your kiss and thrust his hips forward again, slowly pulling out and snapping back in. It was blissful torture, your body experiencing each movement as if it were new. Your walls continuously contracted around him, giving him a pressure around his cock. It was a tight fit, but not painful, not uncomfortable in any way. Your eyes and his never broke away from each other, only lashes kissing cheeks as you would close your eyes for a kiss.

With a deep, intentional roll of his hips, his lips moved across your jaw and neck, settling near your ear. "I love you," he whispered.

You gasped as you felt your body react, "Oh fuck!" You moaned, your orgasm coming out of nowhere, tightening around him hard.

"Fucking hell," Paul moaned as his hips sped up, until he was spasming inside you, his seed filling the barrier.

He stilled while inside you, pulling out and slipping away with a soft kiss, only to come back cleaned up and pulling the sheet over the two of you. He curled his body around yours, your bare skin against his chest, his hand entwined with yours as his lips kissed your tousled head. "You're amazing."

You turned to look at him with your tired but happy eyes, "did you mean it?"

A soft smile splayed over his features as his eyes twinkled a bit, understanding exactly what you were referring to. "I was being ironic, as I was, literally loving you." He took a pause and leaned in for a sweet, all lip kiss. "But hypothetically... if I did mean it..."

You grinned, “then, hypothetically I’d say I love you to."

He chuckled and quickly pecked you again before settling in behind you for sleep. "Good to know."

The bell to the lift beeped and the doors loudly opened, bringing you to the present. It felt like everything took forever since you'd received Captain Biggs' call. You followed the doctor down the hall and after a sharp left, he showed you the doorway to Paul's room.

As you stepped inside, your heart shattered. The first thing you noticed was how small and pale he looked there in his bed. Paul wasn't a small guy, in fact he was six feet of thick muscle and hard strength. A built frame that loved to wrap itself around you any chance he could. Your firm and well taught body fitting like the perfect piece to him. You swallowed hard as you stepped forward, closer to the edge of his bed. There were so many wires, so many leads hooked up to the various machines that ensured he stayed in his medicinal sleep and keeping him alive. A tube for the ventilator was in his mouth and down his throat while monitoring equipment measured his vitals, IV lines and pumps full of medication surrounded him, a feeding tube was stuck in his nose, and not to mention the various drains and catheters. You found yourself cursing all the episodes of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ the pair of you had watched as you weren't sure if you'd rather not fucking know what the hell they all were.

Despite the sick symphony of beeps and blips on the screens, the only sound you heard was the sound of his heart rate on its own monitor. A steady, morbid mantra reminding you that he was there but not really there with you.

Gone were those beautiful blue eyes you loved waking up to each morning or staring deeply into as his pupils, lust blown with deep passion, love and desire stared back you while you made love. Hiding behind an ugly plastic tube were those pearly whites you loved seeing when he smiled or laughed with his whole body, his cheeky grin missing. Silent was the voice that would make your heart skip its beats, your body ignite, that would meet your voice in reply, 'sugar'.

You held back the sob that was choking you breathless and you sat in the chair beside his bed, facing him. Your warm and soft hand took hold of his, and you were broken at how cold he felt.

As you looked up for some form of help to the heavens above, your eyes looked back at him and you gave a breathy, shaky sigh, "hey, Stud."

***** Part 3

#rock n roll people in a disco world #Paul Diskant #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #street kings #street kings fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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wandas-sunshine · 2 years

Note

Hi ~✨~ I hope you’re doing well 😊 and congrats on hitting 1K that’s honestly so cool! I’m just messaging to see if I can get a ship please. My nickname is Ellie and pronouns are she/her. I’m straight and I would like the ship to be romantic please. I don’t know if anything really makes me special 😅 but here are a couple things about me. Personality wise I like to think of myself as the “comic relief” type of character. I kind of say anything that comes to my mind, which is mostly just silly comments and sometimes too blunt comments. I’m very giggly and friendly. I am very quiet and nervous at first, but after a few hangs I usually open up and it’s hard for me to shut up. I do overthink things though and I can admit that I’m a pushover but I’M WORKING ON IT. Oh and I am gullible. I’m the type of person who’ll love to watch rom-coms, or read cute love stories but if someone were to do something actually romantic to me I’d cringe but still find it cute. Random facts; I love to dance. Currently, I do a lot of dance covers. I love binge watching shows and movies. I watch a lot of mainly cartoons. And foooooooddd 💗. Anyways thanks for doing these ships it’s pretty cool. Take your time and have a great day ☀️ oh I forgot to mention, I can’t decide between a night in or a first kiss so you can pick. Thank you! 😊 (sorry if you got this message twice it said it didn’t go through the first time)

Hey, I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not sure if it's fully in character for you, but hopefully it's good!!

I ship you with Pietro Maximoff

Pietro would just generally enjoy your vibes and match your energy no matter what. He'd enjoy teasing you as a form of affection too, but he'd be hyper protective if anyone else tried to do it.

Night In: You'd been with Pietro with a little over two years now, living in a little apartment with him and sharing your life. And life with Pietro was always spontaneous. You'd been asked by dozens of people how it was that you managed to keep up. You'd joke and ask what choice you had. Really, though, Pietro made it east to get dragged int his whirlwind.

You'd had a long day working on your newest project and dancing yourself half to death - not that you minded putting in the effort. Now you were allowing yourself to curl up on the couch in your comfy clothes, eagerly awaiting the arrival of your boyfriend so you could get some well earned snuggles.

You were enraptured by the show you'd turned on to pass the time, one you'd been meaning to catch up on for some time now, when Pietro came in. You didn't hear the door open, or close, and you must not have fully registered the rustling in the kitchen. You didn't note his presence whatsoever until Pietro plopped onto the couch beside you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, which only made the silver haired man laugh brightly.

"You scared me shitless!" You swatted at him halfheartedly. "You're an asshole."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you were distracted." He reached for your laptop, closing out the window you were watching and tipping it shut. You groaned in protest, but the grin on his face refused to dull. Annoying.

"You're a menace. Why are you doing this to me? I've never done anything to you." You whined, draping your dead weight onto him. It didn't provide much resistance as he wiggled out from under you, then dragged you to stand up with him. You kept trying, though, as he hauled you into the kitchen.

There were bags of groceries on the counter tops, and you turned to give your boyfriend a deadpan look. He stood beside you with a proud glint in his eye.

"Did you just drag me all the way out here to put away groceries?" You asked dully. You probably wouldn't actually stay mad at him if he had, but you might sulk for a few minutes. He hesitated, his grin turning into an over-exaggerated pout. Then he shook his head.

"I bought things to make dinner. I thought we could cook something together." He was still a bit disappointed that you hadn't picked up on his brilliant idea (a side effect of spending so much time with his mind-bending sister, no doubt), but now his voice was laced with hope. You cracked a smile.

"That actually sounds sweet, Piet. What did you want to make?" You slid your arms around his waist, drawing him in for a tight hug. Your own way of apologizing for jumping to the worst conclusion.

You turned on music on your phone while Pietro took the groceries from the bag and laid them out on the counter. He explained the meal, stating that there was no written recipe anywhere that he'd ever seen. It was a family recipe, carefully passed from person to person, from parent to child, from lover to lover, from confidant to confidant. His mother, he told you, had said that food was a matter of love. Now he was asking to share it with you.

With music playing, you half danced around the cramped kitchen, listening carefully to Pietro's instructions for the sauce he had you making while he worked on the pork. The aroma in the kitchen had you weak at the knees by the time you thought your sauce to be done.

You held the spoon out for him, carefully cupping a hand beneath in case any dripped. He leaned close, blowing on the sauce slowly. You could tell he was drawing this little taste test out, making you squirm. He was cruel about it. But after a moment, he took a taste and only responded with a thoughtful hum. You felt your heart sink.

"I screwed it up. I did, didn't I?" You asked, waiting for his disappointment to surface. So much time wasted. He took the spoon, putting it back in the pot.

"It's perfect, baby." You swatted at him again as he giggled cruelly at having managed to trick you into thinking you'd messed up. "Come here, the pork will be done in a minute."

He dragged you close, wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you for this." He kissed your nose, and you scrunched it up. "I love you."

"I love you too, now get your food before it gets ruined." You huffed, an affectionate smile rising onto your lips as he stepped away from you again. Yeah, it wasn't so much work to keep up with him.

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positivityjediprince · 2 years

Text

Get to Know Me - A Tag Game

rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don't reblog!

Favourite colour:

I'm a big yellow fan! I'm such a dork I love buttercups and suflowers and daisies and sunshine. I'm sorry, I know that's kinda cringe but yellow is just so :D you know?

Currently reading:

So much fanfic lmao....

But non-fanfic wise I'm on and off reading this book called "Even More Opera Annecdotes" which I live for, it's all like snippets of opera world drama and moments - like Janet Baker sassing Pavarotti. It makes me so happy because even the great professionals are dumb nerds!

Last song:

Apparently Dolly Parton "Why'd you come in here looking like that."

But I'm my dream I was singing/there was playing "He is an English Man" from Gilbert and Sullivan HMS Pinafore.

Last Movie:

Man I had to think hard about this one... Genuinely I think it was this terrible animated film called "The Seventh Dwarf" ...I put it on to traumatise my house mates cause it looked awful ..and it was.

Last Serise:

Last watched its Louis Theroux Forbidden America.

Last finished it's Supernatural Academy (which I do sort of recommend even tho it's stupid it's quite charming - with great rep - and I greatly enjoyed it! The soundscaping is wack af tho cause covid lol)

Sweet, spicy or savoury:

It's gotta be sweet! Especially baked goods! Give me Krapfen and brioche all day everyday!

Coffee or tea:

TEA BABY! Like not to be a stereotype but tea is life, though it has to be non-cafinated versions/herbal because my heart doesn't take caffeine well.

Three ships:

DinLuke is of course my number one and light of my life!!!

Then it's for sure Geraskier! Who I also adore with all my heart.

And third hmm it's probably quite tied it's probably between James Bond/Q (00Q) and Catadora! (embarrassingly my first thought was me and my bf ew what a sap I am)

First ever ship:

This is going to make sense to none of you but Yoyo/Crocky from this Austrian TV show called 'Simsala Grimm' - when I was small I thought they were like married I'm ngl. They're the chaotic bubbly feral himbo and sensible awkward nerdy one (who is very Done TM with the other person's shenanigans) couple - I think that was fundamental to my concept of relationships.

Currently working on:

I'm working on the last two chapter of Heaven knows I've needed someone like you for so long and a REALLY DUMB one shot - both DinLuke ofc!

And also my ever growing drabble drafts!

Favourite piece of clothing:

Probably the show hoodie from the last opera I did at university - it was the first time I got a real lead (and it was a big role) and people believed in me and I realised that I am worth something and that I can become an opera singer - which is big because if been working my butt off to recover my singing from the damage done by my ED. So yeah that means a lot to me even if I don't wear it that much.

Comfort food:

SOUP AND OR GOULASH with sexy Austrian bread.

Favourite time of the year:

Ooooooo summer but the bit of summer where it's the evening and it's still warm and you're outside with your pack and the sun is setting but you know you'll still be out here for a while being silly and having deep convos.

Fave fanfic:

Now THIS is a hard one! I'm gonna cheat a bit cause there's three from different fandoms that spring to mind.

I'm gonna say DinLuke "oh the things we left behind" because it is beyond beautiful and id say it is my number one overall.

Also close is Saoghal Tinn (00Q) which grasped me and never let me go - even if you don't know/ship them I'd recommend it if you like well written and tense zombie apocalypse stuff with gays.

And one I keep going back to for serotonin is Animal Instinct (Geraskier) I adore soft feral Geralt and when he's sad Jaskier won't eat the rats he brought him lives rent free in my head.

Thank you to @thewriterowl and @feralsunspotandtincan for tagging me you cuties!!!

And here we have the tagging dilemma of the DinLuke dorks to double tag or not to double tag!

@veradragonjedi (double tagged bestie I'm sorry!) @mandobogwitch @mando-punk @kriffinjoy @mysticmjolnir ofc no pressure guys!! ❤️❤️

#i had so much fun thinking about all my fave fics lol

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fantasia-monogram · 3 years

Text

As the clock strikes midnight, part 1

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue

♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members

♥️ Suggestive (~2k words); smoking, mentions of alcohol, (lightly) implied BDSM. Mutual pining. Next part is going to be NSFW (and reveal more about the characters’ history).

♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

“Ah, the exciting world of corporate banking.”

You were too tired to check the time, but one look over the room gave you a clear idea of what kind of stage the party has reached: vast office space, with all the desks pushed against the wall and a long table situated in the middle, was littered with barely-sober people, most of them in groups of two or three. The goal was to let coworkers of various titles and positions mingle in a casual manner, as the fairly young company’s hierarchy and employer count was expanding proportionately to its growth - friendly office culture was a staple in this place. Truth was, after a couple drinks (or, in case of some tougher individuals, whole bottles of soju), everyone would group into their regular lunch break cliques, usually within the same department.

Long gone were the days when the business was much smaller, and it was easier for people from different departments to form close bonds.

Luckily, you remembered them very well, and that’s why, as the party was dying down, you shared a (small and not very comfortable) couch with your two best colleagues: Lee Jaeyoon and Yoo Taeyang.

“Look at him. What a fighter,” Jaeyoon said with a hushed voice, pointing his almost full glass of whisky towards another corner of the spacious room. There, behind one of the squished-together desks, Quality Department leader Kim Inseong was still angrily babbling about work-related statistics to the nearly-wasted Training Supervisor, Baek Juho. The latter, with his forehead propped on his hand, kept waving at his superior to stop, as coherent words would not come out of his mouth at this point no matter how hard he tried. Inseong, incredibly professional yet warm and welcoming when sober, would do a total 180° after a single bottle of soju and turn into a snarky bastard ranting at everything going on in the company.

“Supervisor Baek is holding on strong, though,” Taeyang added in a matter-of-fact tone before taking a sip from his glass.

You couldn’t help but cover your mouth and snort with amusement.

The three of you were an unusual group.

You all joined the company on the same day, and underwent basic training for a couple weeks. Even though Jaeyoon was close to your age, the gap between you and Taeyang was much bigger. Add their impressive height and you had to admit, it was awkward to sit between these two guys every single day. Soon enough though, your small talk during short breaks would turn more and more enjoyable, and when the last week rolled in, as the oldest one, you mustered up the courage to invite them to a nearby coffee shop. Formally, you just wanted to celebrate the end of your training stage, but honestly… You grew fond of them, so there was no harm in getting to know them better away from the workplace.

Who knew the three of you would find common ground during that fateful meeting?

“Hey… Y/n… You there?” Jaeyoon’s voice snapped you out of a trip down the memory lane.

“Yeah. What were you saying?” you asked, a bit embarrassed.

“You don’t seem to be having fun at all. I haven’t seen you around the bar even once,” Jaeyoon ranted, haphazardly shaking his glass.

“You know I don’t drink.”, you stated calmly.

“Aish… It’s a party! No need to be so strict. Am I right?”

For some reason, Jaeyoon looked towards Taeyang with a wicked grin, and you followed. The youngest one, sitting by your right side, cleared his throat theatrically.

“I’ll go get myself another one.” he mumbled, already leaving the couch.

“Don’t overdo it!” Jaeyoon yelled, then turned back to you. “You could really use some percents, though. Just saying.”

“I have an image to maintain,” you said quietly, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You dressed like it’s every other day at work, too,” your friend pointed out, “It’s just a different colour.”

You looked at him resentfully. That’s true, tailored suits were your usual look, not just because you simply didn’t like dresses or skirts. It was the easiest way to elongate your silhouette, and you were already lacking in height compared to all the higher-ups attending company meetings with you.

A powerful look was expected from the Compliance Supervisor who rose to that position in a record-breaking time and was nowhere near done career-wise.

Besides, you had to admit, your neat suits in a whole variety of colors boosted your confidence every single day. You had all of them adjusted, so they would accentuate your figure in all the right places. Oh, all the times you and Jaeyoon would shamelessly ask poor Taeyang who’s got the best ass out of you two (“Okay, forget it. Taeyangie does,” Jaeyoon would end the competition each time, making Taeyang cringe).

"You're just jealous because I look better in red than you do," you barked, although lacking any real bite.

"Listen, what I'm trying to say is…" Jaeyoon leaned dangerously close to your ear. "...I don't mind your uniforms, but someone over there is on the brink of losing his mind right now."

You backed off, wide-eyed. Your friend discreetly threw a glance towards Taeyang, who just came back with his glass refilled.

Still dumbfounded, you kept looking back and forth at each of your friends, not realizing how silly it must have looked.

"Did I miss anything?" Taeyang asked, clearly feeling something went down during his absence.

"Yeah, I just said that maybe we should leave this remnant of a party and move somewhere else," Jaeyoon replied, looking over your shoulder at the youngest.

You furrowed your eyebrows, but ultimately decided his idea wasn't that bad after all.

"I don't know… Wouldn't it be rude to leave so early?" Taeyang mused.

"Seokwoo left, like, at 9," Jaeyoon pointed out. "Way before anybody had a chance to get drunk."

"Ah, our lovely Escalation Specialist," you sighed, talking about Kim Seokwoo, your right hand man at the Compliance Department. "You could say the party escalated too much for him."

"At nine!", the older of your friends laughed.

“What time is it anyway?” you asked. It didn’t matter that you could just check it yourself. You were used to people doing things like this for you around this place.

Jaeyoon, who knew it very well, fished his phone out of his shirt pocket.

“Uh… Fifteen to twelve,” he announced.

Taeyang tapped your shoulder.

"Happy early birthday," he threw casually.

Pleasant warmth rose to your cheeks. You were just starting to smile, your eyes crinkling already, when Jaeyoon jumped in his seat, startling both of you.

"Wait, what?!" he yelled, making a few heads turn for a second or two.

"What kind of a friend are you, really?" Taeyang snorted dryly, "It's y/n's birthday tomorrow."

Jaeyoon let out a sound that could best be described as a happy roar and pounced forward in an attempt to give you a bear hug. You dodged it by moving backwards, thus colliding into Taeyang's side.

You briefly glanced at each other, awkwardly nodding as an apology, before he uttered a quick it's fine and slid further into the couch.

"Hey, that hug was supposed to be a present!" Jaeyoon whined, recovering his dignity after the failure.

"Thanks, but no, thanks." you retorted, staying at a safe distance.

"Okay, but now we really have to go somewhere else. This calls for a celebration!" Your overly enthusiastic companion wasn't giving up that easily.

You turned to your other friend.

"Taeyang?"

"That's enough social interaction for today," the boy in question replied, "One more crowded place and I'll pass out on the spot."

He was known for his introverted tendencies; even at work, he occupied a desk that was a bit further from everyone else, guaranteeing him all the peace he needed, and had only one coworker he was somewhat close to apart from you two.

"What about we go to my place instead? I've got no alcohol, but there are plenty of leftovers for a late dinner if you're hungry," you offered instead.

"Sounds like a plan!" Jaeyoon clasped his hands. "I'll pay for the cab."

Taeyang bottomed out his glass.

"Wanna go for a smoke while we wait?"

As soon as you put a cigarette in your mouth, Taeyang was there to light it. You could swear his eyes lingered on your lips, but maybe it was so late that your eyes started pulling tricks on you.

A good five minutes passed of the three of you smoking in silence, enjoying the cool summer breeze and the sight of a nearly full moon above you. Taeyang was the first to finish, with you following. Jaeyoon was the last to end his cigarette, throwing it into the trash can nearby in a somewhat angry manner.

"Taeyang, I can't possibly imagine a better time to tell them than now."

Both you and Taeyang turned your heads towards Jaeyoon.

"Tell what?" you posed a question, confused.

The guys exchanged looks. After that, Taeyang averted his eyes, while Jaeyoon locked his with yours.

"I think he should be the one to explain." Jaeyoon stated firmly.

"It's fine," Taeyang's voice was unexpectedly weak, "I'm fine with you telling them."

You felt your heartbeat quicken all of sudden.

"He's head over heels for you."

And then, it was as if your heart just stopped. No, that couldn't be. Your pretty, soft spoken dongsaeng you always had your eyes on? In love with you?

"No way." you muttered, turning to face Taeyang. He still couldn't bear to look at you. "Is that true?"

Internally, you were screaming for him to say yes.

Poor guy seemed like he was about to get a panic attack, breathing in and out loudly, hands balled into fists. You could see him biting his lips.

"Come on." Jaeyoon ushered, "I did the hard part for you. Now it's your turn."

Taeyang slowly raised his gaze. His doll-like eyes were glazed over with tears - a sight so stunning it almost made you gasp.

"It's true. It's been going on for more than two years now." His voice was quiet, but steady.

You kept staring at his gorgeous, flushed face, unable to say a word. It was a clue for him to continue.

"I knew I had a chance. I'm not stupid. I noticed you treated me differently than Jaeyoon or any other friend at work. But I also knew your no relationships at the workplace policy and your attitude towards age gaps, and decided to keep it to myself."

Your heart was about to burst.

"I'm just as demanding in love as I am at work," you explained, "I'd ruin you."

Jaeyoon circled you. As soon as he stopped, he put his left hand on Taeyang's shoulder, while his right on yours.

"Tell them," he encouraged the younger guy again.

As if on command, there was fire burning in Taeyang's gaze. You felt it consume you as a whole.

"I'm not fragile," the boy declared, “I want to be ruined.”

You thought you were dreaming, but a squeeze of Jaeyoon’s hand on your shoulder anchored you back to reality, this reality being your crush at first sight confessing to you.

“Your confidence… How strict and relentless you are…” Taeyang went on, his voice breaking, “The tone of your voice… And your suits. Oh, your suits. It all turns me on so much.”

“What a guy,” Jaeyoon chuckled, shaking his head.

Both you and Taeyang decided to ignore him for now.

“I repeat,” Taeyang insisted, “I want to be ruined.”

Despite Jaeyoon’s continuous hold on both of you, you reached towards Taeyang’s face to caress his smooth cheeks with the back of your fingers. That was all he needed to surge forward and plant a brief, fluttering kiss on your lips that still managed to leave you with your head spinning, needing more.

“Happy birthday, y/n,” Taeyang whispered, holding his forehead against yours.

It was only then when you realized you were both breathing heavily, even though nothing had happened yet.

The moment was interrupted by the ringtone of Jaeyoon’s phone. At last, the guy ceased his hold on you to check the device.

“Okay, lovebirds, the cab is here. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

You glanced at Jaeyoon, then locked your eyes with Taeyang’s again. He reciprocated your devious smile.

(to be continued)

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 smut #sf9 imagines #yoo taeyang imagine #yoo taeyang scenario #Another long piece of writing...#Please bear with me #As the clock strikes midnight

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a-pretty-nerd · 3 years

Text

Self Indulgent Shigaraki Nonsense Part 5

Tomura Shigaraki x pregnant!reader

A/N: Oh wow part 5 and I'm still not done with this.

Warnings: Emotions? Cursing?

You tossed and turned in your sleep, groaning and moaning in frustration. Your joint ached, and fatigue plagued your body. You tried everything you could to get to sleep but nothing was working and on top of your aching body, the nearly fully developed fetus in you thought now was the perfect time for exercise.

Tomura laid beside you, having fallen asleep hours ago. But your movement and sounds of anguish gently woke him up. Groggy and a little frustrated he looked over his shoulder to see your upset form shift back and forth.

"Is it the baby?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice. You huffed.

"Everything hurts and they keep moving around and I'm exhausted but I can't fall asleep!" You cried. You felt silly crying like this to Tomura, you felt like a little kid throwing a tantrum. Weren't you supposed to be the mild mannered, mature and wise mother?

Tomura turned over to face you, his gloved hand reaching out and planting firmly on your enlarged belly. He gently ran circles around it, trying to sooth the mysterious being inside. He had grown used to this routine, grown used to the idea of you being pregnant. But the idea of being father and actually having a baby was still out of his reach. For now, he was content to have you tucked away and all to himself where he knew you would be safe.

"My fucking BONES hurt." You complained as you rubbed circles into your eyes. He chuckled at your declaration for a moment before wrenching himself from the bed and shuffling into the kitchen where you could hear him rustling about. You laid there and closed your eyes, trying to emulate the soothing sensation of rubbing circles across your belly. They clearly liked it better when Tomura did it. You didn't even know how they knew the difference.

"Here." Tomura entered the room with a hot cup of tea in hand. He sat it down on your bedside table as you struggled to sit up properly. You laid against the head board and slowly took the mug. "Careful. It's still hot." He noted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you."

"Mhm." He watched you blow and sip on the tea, running his gloved hand up and down your calf.

"This is new." You scoffed.

"What?"

"You taking care of me." You smiled.

"What are you talking about? I've taken care of you before. Remember Jaku?"

"Ugh, I don't want to." You cringed. A particularly rough battle had left you broken and beaten black and blue. If it wasn't for Tomura, you would have been dead. But that was before you knew he loved you. Before you knew you loved him. "You're right you have taken care of me. But not like this before." Your smiled made him blush.

"This is a different situation." He explained. You chuckled.

"I know." You finished your tea and he took it from you to put the mug in the kitchen sink. But before he left the room you called to him. "Hey...Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Sure."

"No. Really. Thank you. For everything." He watched you for a moment, engraving that sweet smile of yours into his brain forever. Before nodding and walking back to the kitchen. You adjusted yourself, laying back down and watching him come back in and lay in bed. You watched him, your hand reaching up to gently scratch down his bare back. A comforting gesture he loves but will never out right ask for. It put him to sleep quick, and soon you followed him.

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself alone in bed. You struggled to get up to use the bathroom and wash your face before waddling into the kitchen. A note had been placed over wads of cash on the kitchen counter. The note read:

I'm sorry there was an emergency and I had to leave early this morning. I left money on the counter for breakfast. Take it easy. I'll see you soon. I love you.

- Tomura

Money for breakfast? You looked down at the wads of 20 dollar bills and giggled. Tomura still had very little grasp when it came to money. He just never had to really worry about it. It's not that he wasn't good at budgeting or math, but, this was enough to pay the mortgage and groceries for the rest of the month. Some breakfast you'd be having. You took the cash and put it away where the rest of it went. You were to pay for everything in cash. The mortgage, the car payments, groceries, furniture, absolutely everything. As if that didn't make you look suspicious enough. But Tomura insisted on it because it wouldn't leave a paper trail to your name.

Your new name would have no debt no credit, nothing. It had to be perfect and unremarkable.

You fed, washed, and clothed yourself which took all morning now but finally you made up your mind to take a short walk to the local grocery store and do some shopping. Normal house wife shit, right?

So you waddled your fat ass out the door to take a leisurely stroll all the way to the super market. You looked up and watched grey clouds gently float above, bringing a cool breeze and the faint smell of rain in the air. You made it to the store before it started to sprinkle. The bright and fresh atmosphere of the store made you uneasy. Public spaces still made you feel out of place. Suspicious. Like you still had to hide.

You paused in the middle of an aisle, sudden movement stopping you dead in your tracks. The baby had been moving less, and the false contractions had started. Your midwife had taught you that this was normal, you still weren't due for a while longer, there was no need to worry. But they were a big pain in the ass.

You held your belly and took a deep breath. It soon passed and you went back to searching for your grocery list.

"First one?" A voice asked. You turned and found a young woman standing there pushing a stroller. She gave a friendly smile.

"Oh, yes."

"How exciting. I had a lot of false contractions with my first too. How far along are you?"

"I guess about, eight months. Give or take a week or two."

"You sure look it. I'm kim by the way, nice to meet you." She held out a hand and you shook it. Her bright smile and relaxed attitude bring comfort and warmth. You looked down to the stroller, an infant cradled towards Kim, and an absent-minded toddler glaring at the floor sat in the front. He angrily pouted at the ground, before his gaze slowly came up to you.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/-...." fuck! What was your new name again? You almost blew your cover. "Ota." You remembered. Thank God.

"Your the new family down the road aren't you?" Kim nodded in recognition.

"Yeah, yeah. How long have you lived here?" You tried to make conversation.

"Oh I've lived here all my life."

"Wow."

"Yeah my husband and I met in high school here and been together ever since. He travels for work now though, so,"

"My husband travels too." You told her. Shit. Was that the right thing to say? Could you really call Shigaraki your, husband? What would he think about that? He'd probably be irritated you even bothered to socialize at all.

"Oh really? What does he do?" You paused.

"Uh, he works closely with heroes." You croaked.

"Oh like management er' whatever?" She was so nonchalant.

"Yeah, yeah. Real boring stuff." You agreed. 'Er' whatever' what a great way to put it.

"Yeah mine's a lawyer for cities suffering from 'big hero blow-outs' they call em'. He works with cities about destruction of public property and what not. I don't really know the details or anything but hey, maybe our guys have crossed paths a couple times! What did you say his name was?" Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Uh, Ota. Ota Kurai." You lied.

"Kurai...huh..." Kim thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath and sighing. "Well, that doesn't ring any bells. How long have you been together." Was this something you were supposed to lie about?

"Five years now, I think." You pondered.

"You think?" She chuckled at you.

"Yeah, it's hard to remember sometimes. All of a sudden we went from friends to more. Its difficult to explain." She smiled.

"Yeah, I understand. Well, I better be off. The boys need a nap before lunch. It was lovely meeting you, Ota."

"Likewise!" You smiled back.

"See you around."

"See ya." And with you that you went on shopping, a successful venture. You were lucky you were able to purchase an umbrella in the store, it was really coming down now. You waddled along the sidewalk, making your way back to the stretch of suburbs you occupied. As you walked the final stretch to your home, the wind began to pick up. Violently wrenching the umbrella out of your hand and throwing it behind you. You turned, panicked and now vulnerable to the heavy rain. It came down fast and hard, the droplets almost painful on your skin.

You turned around to find your umbrella flying through the air, tumbling over to a distant figure. A young man, no, a teenager. The kid snapped to attention, jogging for the object from under his own umbrella and quickly making his way back to you. You tensed up, the weight of your groceries, the rain, your condition. Clearly you were in distress. You cursed yourself. You were once a feared villain. You fought the greatest heroes Japan had to offer and lived to tell the tale. You were an activist, pioneer, warrior, leader. You had the scars to prove it. And now look at you. A helpless, pregnant house wife.

"Here miss!" The boy called. You sniffed and reached for it as he handed it to you.

"Thanks!" You barked, trying to shuffled off without anymore talk.

"Let me help you with that!" He insisted, taking your groceries from you and shielding you from anymore rain. You were soaked by now. You couldn't argue, he insisted and you had to admit that the help was nice. He walked you home, standing and waiting at your house's gate as you took back your bags from him.

"Thank you for your help." You tried to be polite.

"Sure thing miss. No trouble. Are you sure you got it?"

"Yes. Thank you." You insisted, turning back to disappear into your home. Only to find the front door open. You let out a startled gasp. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, dark eyes glaring at the boy behind you. Your eyes shuffled back and forth between him and the boy. Shigaraki wore a painfully mediocre disguise. A face mask, and a black wig. From far away he easily blended into a crowd. He was always good at hiding himself in a strange way. He was an oddly good actor.

"Sara. You should be more careful." He barked your fake name in a fake tone. Like he was a concerned husband.

"Sorry Kurai, I didn't think the storm would get this bad." You chuckled in a panic. He approached you, averting his gaze from the boy. Hiding his face and taking the bags from you. You turned back to the boy who's eye shifted from Shigaraki then back to you. "Thank you for your help. Here." You shuffled around in your purse before handing him a few hundred yen.

"Oh no Mrs, really it's fine."

"No. I insist." You huffed with a smile.

"Thank you. My names Sato by the way, I live just down the road."

"Nice meeting you Sato." You smiled and closed the gate before waddling back inside. You closed the door behind you, panting as you recovered from your adventure.

You watched Tomura remove his disguise in a frustrated huff before putting the groceries away. You leaned against the wall after shuffling into the kitchen, leaving water to fall from you and pool on the wood floor. Soon he turned to look back at you.

"I thought there was an emergency."

"False alarm." He muttered.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked. He paused and gave a frustrated huff.

"...I told you not to get friendly with people. That puts you in danger." You scoffed. "You're soaking wet, you better shower off before you catch a cold."

"I didn't have a choice, okay? It's not like I sought out his help! He was just there, he insisted he help! And yknow what, I can't say I didn't need it. Because I'm incapable of doing anything apparently!" You shouted. Oh shit. He angered you. You could see it in his eyes. He hates it when you get angry, it makes him uneasy. "And I'm a walking beacon of chit chat too! Everyone wants to talk to the new pregnant lady. Last week, I had fend off like four old ladies from touching my belly. And the week before that, the clerk at the bookstore kept trying to sell me these weirdly religious parenting books. And- And today even! Today some other mom stopped me to talk about my false contractions at the store and I almost forgot our names and I- I-" You're crying now. He hates seeing you crying more than he hates seeing you angry. He slowly approached you, watching as you sniffled and sobbed and wipped away your tears.

"Come on, let's get you comfortable." He guided you to the bathroom to help bathe you in a warm bath to calm your nerves and ease your aching body. You shuffled out into the living room, the warmth of your pajamas easing your tense feelings.

"She wasn't that bad." You mumbled.

"Hm?"

"The other mom at the grocery store today. She was actually nice. She has two boys. She was really chill."

"Mh."

"I told her you worked in management with heroes and you travel a lot." You chuckled to yourself. "Her husband works as a lawyer for cities regarding damage from heroes. She said you might have crossed paths." Tomura pause and flashed a goofy smile.

"You never know. Maybe we have." He joked. You laughed for a moment before finishing your bath and getting changed.

"How come you came back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well usually you stay away. But you've been here so long I figured you'd have left by now so you don't take any chances getting caught. Why'd you come back?" Tomura starred at your stomach and placed his gloved hand over it before looking up at you.

"I'm just finishing a few preparations. But I've made plans so that I'll be able to stay longer than I usually do." He didn't answer your question.

"Plans? Like what?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me you put Dabi in charge." He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Toga? No!... Spinner!?"

"Y/N. Please." He begged.

"Sorry. But you never leave someone else in charge."

"Well now I have a reason. I'm...I'm taking a few months."

"What? But what about your work?"

"I'm not quiting. I'm still the true ruler. It's just a small...vacation. I can go back at any time if an emergency occurs. But for now, I'm staying here."

"You really miss me, don't you?" He pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes one more time before strolling away.

"Of course I miss you." He said it like it was a well known fact. "I miss you every second. I miss working with you. It's so frustrating without you. You understand, you got it. You always knew what needed to be done, what I was trying to do. Now it's like herding cats to get the simplest of tasks done sometimes. I mean you- you were always one step ahead. Half the time I didn't even need to ask you to do something you were already there. You were so smart and cunning and strong."

"And now I'm just a housewife..." He slowly turned to look at you. "I'm just the knocked up mistress you gotta hide."

"No. You know that's not what I meant."

"It's how you make me feel."

"Y/N..."

"I miss it too, y'know. Working with you, with everyone. I miss doing something that actually matters. I miss the planning, and the training, and the fighting. I miss it all. And now look at me. I couldn't even fucking walk home from the grocery store without needing to be rescued. It sucks, it really sucks. I know I chose this life. I know I chose...." Your hand hovered over you belly. "But I just...I just..." You're crying again.

Tomura places a hand on your back and hold you close and the other to stroke your hair in an attempt to calm you again. You clung to him, rocking the two of you back and forth.

"I know. I know." He whispered.

"I just wanted...wanted to be happy. Like how- normal people are happy." You cried.

"I know."

"And I am- I am happy I just... I miss working so much. And I miss seeing everyone and seeing you and fighting heroes and just...I even miss negotiations!" You sobbed. Tomura couldn't help but flash a smile.

"I know. I'm sorry." Your crying started to subside for a moment. Giving him the opportunity to plant a kiss on your cheek.

"Tomura?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you." He nodded and placed his hand on your belly once more.

"So you'll be here for it?"

"Yes I'll be here." You smiled.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's the bare minimum."

#tomura shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha #bnha #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki x pregnant reader

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

Text

Regrets | Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Characters: Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei. Mentioned: Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentioned emotional abuse, swearing (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2560

Summary: After the downfall of your relationship with Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi stays behind to pick up the pieces.

A/N: Look, I know I haven't posted in a while, and this isn't the ONE THING I NEED TO POST. But that will be done soon. I was having issues with google docs, and anxiety, and AAAAAAH but! we will be back to our regularly scheduled nonsense soon hehe. Anyway, have some pain. Also! Big thank you to @pies-writes-and-more for briefly Beta-Reading and then I went off on one hehe. Sowwy

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There are a few things you know, for certain, in this world: love is a fickle thing, pizza is the most comforting food, and Yamaguchi Tadashi had done few things wrong in his life.

And yet here you sit, with your back pressed against your bedroom door and knees pulled close to your chest, tears stinging your cheeks with such aggression you briefly fear they might be acid. He’s on the other side of the door, probably in a similar position, mumbling his most sincere apologies for your current heart ache.

But why?

You ask yourself this so often when it comes to him. Why is he always the first to apologise? Why is he apologising to begin with? This wasn’t his issue. It didn’t matter what you said, he would still apologise, because that’s just how Yamaguchi Tadashi was.

Sure, he had his behind-your-back snarky remarks and that mischievous giggle you’d hear when he was around. But on the inside, oh so deep inside, he was just as weak and as vulnerable as you were.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, yet you couldn’t stop the words flowing from your lips.

I wish I’d never met you.

You don’t mean it. Not really. Well, it was more like you wished he’d never introduced you to him. According to him, he’d wanted you to be his little secret for just a little while longer. So he could protect you for just some more time. But as fickle as love is, so was that.

You can still remember, clear as day, the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

He was walking outside your family restaurant with two other first year boys. Just outside of the front was yet another ever so loud “conversation” between Aoba Johsai’s pretty boy - Oikawa Tooru - and Shiratorizawa’s powerhouse - Ushijima Wakatoshi. The resident redhead who’d often stop by your restaurant with soft apologies and sorrowful gaze - Tendou Satori - was cringing behind Ushijima. If it hadn't been for the surprise visit of Yamaguchi and his first year friends, you might never have gotten rid of the pair that night.

They didn’t say much, but the tall first year with the black hair seemed to piss off Oikawa enough to make him leave. And - for whatever reason - Ushijima was either intimidated or annoyed by the smaller first year with vibrant orange hair.

As Tendou apologised, you locked eyes with Yamaguchi. To say the rest was history would be the easy thing to say. But you weren’t too good at doing things easily.

It was too often you’d see this particular green haired boy appear in your restaurant, looking a little intimidated, but elated nonetheless.

You’d entertain him with small conversation about your life and about his. For whatever reason, time seemed to pass by so easily when he was around. The two of you clicked well, sharing these weekly dinners together like they were your most solid form of comfort.

Until one day, Yamaguchi brought a friend. Brought him.

Tsukishima Kei was the perfect example of everything you shouldn’t love, but that only makes you love him harder. He’s cocky, arrogant enough to be tolerable - unlike Oikawa - a bit more difficult to talk to. A lot of work. It really was a shame you liked things that were challenges.

Because Yamaguchi was easy. Maybe that’s what drew you more to his tall friend.

All smirks and side glances, snide remarks about your food or the restaurant itself. You almost wanted to kick him out right then and there. But you had a soft spot for Yamaguchi, so you let the boys stay.

That would be your first mistake.

Your second was something so seemingly innocent, yet it would be your complete and utter downfall in the end. Your second would be falling for Tsukishima Kei. Hard and fast, with no mercy or care in the world. No time to think about your feelings when your thoughts were filled with him.

Tsukishima Kei was everything that Yamaguchi wasn’t. He was hard to have conversations with, harsh on his wise remarks about you, and time with him went by in a second. You had no chance to reflect on the things you’d said or the way his tone of voice shifted between words; it was over just as quickly as it started.

At first, you took it as a good sign.

You thought that it meant you enjoyed his company so much that it would be over so quick. Even when you tried to think of it as the most boring thing you’d ever done, it didn’t work. Not when he turned and looked at you with that smirk. Not when you blinked and he was grabbing his things to go.

Of course, you didn’t even take a second to think that maybe the reason time went so fast was because he was leaving so much earlier than Yamaguchi would. But as you continued to work, you didn’t think about it. Especially not when your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met.

"It's all my fault." Yamaguchi leaned his head back against the door a little too hard, the noise making you wince.

"It isn't." You said, because it wasn’t his fault. Well, it wasn’t all his fault. Even a blind man could see that. You aren’t even sure how you manage to keep your voice so strong, but you know that it won’t happen again.

“It is.” And this time, you didn't stop his explanation. “When I found out he liked you, I knew he wasn’t going to be good for you. But I saw how your eyes lit up around him, and you’d been talking about him for two years so… I didn’t stop him. I didn’t tell him you deserved more than this. More than what he could give you.” He paused, probably running his hand through his hair. “And then you’d talk about the things he’d do like they were normal, like you were laughing. Like you were begging me to make you stop it.” And he was right. Because you were. Because you hoped he’d see the signs and make you turn around. You probably wouldn’t have listened though. “I’m not going to say I could have treated you better because that isn’t for me to decide. But I will say that I wish I’d never introduced you to him.” He shuffled behind the door, probably getting up to leave. “You know, Y/N, you deserved so much more than that. You are worthy of more than that.” He assured you, and you could only laugh - it really didn’t feel like that right now.

As he left you alone, you wanted to scream more for him to come back, but you knew it was for the best. Yamaguchi was his friend first. You were barely an afterthought in the grand-scheme of things.

Every night you lay awake, panic sewn into your skin that he’d show up, begging you for forgiveness, begging you to take him back, and you lived with the fear that you would do exactly that.

Why?

Because you hated the thought of him being hurt. Hated the idea that, even after everything he’d done to you, you still couldn’t put yourself first.

And, after all this time, there was only one person you could call when things got bad.

Yamaguchi had gotten pretty good at putting on a brave face around Tsukishima when the other first years he’d shared his high school experience were around, but when the pair were left alone, he didn’t have a good thing to say to the blond.

“You really stopped clinging to Tsukishima,” Hinata said in passing one day, almost making the green haired boy hurl. Because if only they knew why. If only they’d seen what he’d seen. If only they’d heard your cries when everything happened.

Instead of answering directly, Yamaguchi just shrugged and laughed lightly, closing his eyes for fear they’d betray him with his true emotions. “Just thought I should start living for myself. You know, you can’t rely on someone forever.” When he opened them again, Tsukishima was looking the other way, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Come on, Tadashi.” Tsukishima called out to him; it was one of those days they’d all planned to be here together, but life happens, and it left Tsukishima with a very pissed off Yamaguchi. “God, you need to stop being such a pussy. Who even cares about her anyway?” Tsukishima asked him, his tone of voice making it very clear that he hated this topic.

It stopped Yamaguchi in his tracks. Because he cared about you. He was there for you. He saw the aftermath, the way you almost refused to tell him what had happened with a serious tone; he saw the light in your eyes shatter and break, and the confident girl he’d known was gone.

You were gone because of the man behind him right now. He clenched his fists, trying to calm the increase of his heartbeat. Trying to resist the urge to punch him in the face. Trying to find the words that would make this boy understand what he’d done.

“Just because you never cared, doesn’t mean other people didn’t.” Yamaguchi spat, walking away from Tsukishima.

He would come to you every time you called him, late at night, early in the morning. Whenever. Wherever. It didn’t matter. Not when you curled up in your bed with your head pressed into his chest, tears staining his shirt and assuring him it would be another long night.

He’d do anything you’d ask, if he were being honest, but you never asked him more than that. For him to stay the night and hold you was all you ever needed, and he thought you were brave for being able to admit just that.

Slowly, you were getting better.

And then you called one evening, crying so hard, voice so filled with panic that he practically ran to your dorm- no, he did run. His legs were burning, his lungs squeezing closed with every sharp exhale. But he was here.

And so was Tsukishima.

The blond was knocking on your door, cheeks tear-stained in the most pathetic way as he begged you to let him inside. Yamaguchi had never been more proud of you; in this moment, you were going against everything your body told you to do.

Yamaguchi acted on instinct, pushing Tsukishima away from your door, and he tumbled onto the ground, looking up at his friend who radiated rage. His blood was boiling, any pain throughout his body long forgotten because you needed him to protect you. To do what he should have done years ago.

“What are you doing here?” Tsukishima didn’t bother pulling himself up, not yet, not when every muscle in Yamaguchi’s arms flexed, threatening him just enough. But Yamaguchi actually hurt him? He actually needed to think about that; right now, it really looked like it.

“I was actually invited.” Yamaguchi hissed behind gritted teeth. Had his senses ever been so awake? He didn’t think so. Pure adrenaline rushed through his veins. “What are you doing here?”

It almost felt wrong to talk to Tsukishima this way - so wrong, yet so right - he didn’t understand why. Sure, when they met as kids, Tsukishima had never been the nicest to him. But he’d never been horrible either. Not the way he was to you - not the way he was to anyone else. It made him feel special, that Tsukishima’s friendship was special - no matter how wrong that was - and maybe when they got closer in high school, he let himself be blind for just a little bit longer. Because Tsukishima Kei called him cool, so wasn’t that a big deal? It shouldn’t have been.

“And what are you going to do?” Tsukishima asked, standing up slowly, he was watching Yamaguchi carefully, he could see the hesitation in the boy's eyes. So, maybe he did have the upper hand, or some sort of ground after all. “Because I really doubt you have it in you to hit me, Tadashi, so just move out of the way and let me talk to my girlfriend.”

That sat wrong with Yamaguchi and his glare hardened. He could hear you crying on the other side of the door, God, you must have been so scared. “She isn’t your girlfriend anymore.”

“Is she yours?” Tsukishima looked down on him, sneering. He already knew the answer.

“Why do you care so much? Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one that broke up with her. You’re the one that did this. And now you’re crawling back?” Yamaguchi scoffed, trying his hardest to make sure his walls weren’t going to break down, he could feel them crumbling already. “That’s pretty lame, Tsukki.”

“Because I fucked up.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, hands shoved deep into his pocket.

“When did you fuck up exactly?” Yamaguchi stepped closer to him, pointing his finger at him almost violently. “Was it when you told her she wasn’t good enough for you? Was it when you tore her apart for your own entertainment? Was it when she opened up to you, and you shamed her for that? Or could it have been when you left her standing in the rain on your first anniversary? Maybe it was when you abandoned her at her own mother’s funeral because she ‘hurt your feelings’? God, I really just can’t pinpoint when you fucked up,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he grabbed Tsukishima by the shirt (when had he gotten so close?) pulling his face down until they met eyelines, “fucking enlighten me, Tsukishima!” He yelled. “You know what, Tsukishima, I think your biggest fuck up was following me to her restaurant, when I told you not to, all because you were bored.”

The tension held in the air was strangling them both. It was all a case of who would let go first - who would be the first one to back away?

They both knew the answer.

Tsukishima pushed Yamaguchi away, scoffing at the green haired boy, “I get it. You hate me.” He rolled his eyes, straightening out his shirt. “But I did care about her.” His voice was softer now, like he was scared that you’d hear him.

“Well,” Yamaguchi cleared his throat, “you have a really funny way of showing it.” They turned away from each other, not wanting to see the changes in their face. A silent agreement between them that things would never be the same. Maybe that was for the best.

When he was sure that Tsukishima had left the building, Yamaguchi reached a shaking hand out to your door.

Your soft whimpers were barely noticeable, but they were there. You opened the door, practically throwing yourself into his arms when you confirmed he was okay; you didn't ask what happened between the boys and he didn’t tell you.

Sure, you never liked doing things easily before, but right now, easy was what your heart needed. Yamaguchi took the lead in making sure you were getting help with the trauma; and he let you take the lead in your relationship.

And sure, you’d always regret the night you’d met Tsukishima Kei. But, no matter what you said, you would never regret the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

Text

Redemption (Don Giorno x Fem! reader)

For all intents and purposes this was meant to be sad and angsty, but my basic bish ass couldn't, so here we are ❤️💭🥺

I listened to this song while thinking this scenario up, it somehow just added gravity to my thoughts.

Word count: 2865

“Finally” you mused to yourself as you peeked outside from your apartment window. The sun was out in all its golden splendor after days and days of dreary, rainy grey skies. You could appreciate chilly, stormy weather but even you had a limit, and it was awfully cold and lonely when all you had hold on to was a spare pillow. No. No more wallowing, the sun was out and you’d be late for work if you didn’t get on the go. So you put on your prettiest little sundress and walked to your office, a day like this couldn’t be wasted.

Smiling into the sky, absorbing all the sunshine you could, you made a mental to-do list for your day. Life was slowly starting to look up for you, you landed a new job that you loved, you finally went back to studying towards your passion, and you finally started feeling like yourself again. The sparkle had returned to your eyes, and that gentle smile had found your face again. To everyone around you, you were positively radiant. Little did you know, that your glow was also being observed by someone you locked away carefully in the dark recesses of your past…

Giorno wasn’t intentionally watching you, he just happened to be sitting at the Café you both usually went to on your way back from your morning run. You always fussed that you wouldn’t lose any weight if you immediately ate the calories you exercised away, to which he always responded that you were perfect, earning a shy smile from you. A winsome expression occupied his handsome face as he recalled the memories of you… he had to remind himself that they were just memories though, and that chapter of his life had ended, rather softly, just over a year ago. However, the ripples of that awful conversation still remained with him, disturbing the still waters of his heart.

He looked at you until you disappeared around the corner, contemplating if it would be wise to go after you, ultimately deciding against it. If fate would afford him another opportunity to see you, then he would act on that, knowing full well that you were well within your rights to never want to see him again… but so much has changed since then, if you could just give him another chance, he would prove that he’s become the man you deserve.

“Giogio, sorry I’m late, oh I thought Mista would be here already… why are we here anyway?” asked Fugo as he rushed in in a huff.

“Oh good morning, Fugo, Mista is otherwise engaged, he won’t be joining us. There’s no particular reason, its just a beautiful day, I thought a change of scenery would be nice, the coffee is delicious here as well,”

“And you just might run into her again…” interrupted Fugo, “it’s been, what? A year now? Don’t you feel it’s time to move on? I’m sure she’s moved on by now as well,”

“She hasn’t, I know she hasn’t just yet I’m sure of it. Look, I’ve tried, it’s not going to be fair to anyone involved if I just go off with a random person again, I’ll always be looking for her, it’s not fair to them or myself,” replied Giorno, his tone being slightly harsher than he intended.

Fugo grimaced at the bite in Giorno’s voice, “I’m just looking out for you,”

“I know, I’m sorry, I saw her this morning, she looked well. I’ve decided I’m not going to pursue anyone else now, I want her back, so that’s what I’m going to do. Anyway, I just wanted to touch bases since I haven’t seen anyone since flying back. Everything is still under control I presume?” asked Giorno, wanting to change the subject.

“Just think about this carefully Giorno, it’s your decision at the end of day. Well, everything is fine here, everyone is behaving as they should. Your hard work over the years is paying off now,”

“Good, if we can maintain this, then it would have all been worth it, we’ve sacrificed so much to get this far,” there was an edge to Giorno’s voice, a sliver of the resolve he displayed years ago when he was still a soldato, peeking through. There was very little, if anything at all, that Giorno couldn’t get if he set his mind to it.

Your work day was going well, you were busy from the time you set foot in the office, so you were thankful to step out of the office for an hour when your lunch break rolled around. Deciding you weren’t really hungry, you just ordered your favorite mocha frappe and decided to use the time to catch up on your reading for class.

It was still sunny and warm outside, so you decided to sit at a park bench and take advantage of the lovely atmosphere. You took in your surroundings for a few minutes before whipping out your tablet and finding the journal articles you wanted to go over.

Giorno had just ended off his last appointment and was being driven home when he saw you sitting on the bench, quietly drinking your frappe, absorbed by whatever it was you were reading. Asking the driver to pull over, he took a few moments to gaze at you, you were just so beautiful, even more so now. It was his moment, taking a deep breath and smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in his clothes, he made his way towards you, summoning up his confidence with each step he took.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, would you….” You had to look twice to make sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

“Are you well, cara? It’s been so long,” Giorno cringed at his choice of words but there was no going back now.

“Giorno… hi… wait, what are you doing here?” There was so much more you wanted to ask him, but those were the only words you managed to string together.

“I was on my way home when I saw you here, I just wanted to say hello. It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen you. It’s entirely up to you if you want to talk, or if you want me to leave now, I can, I just couldn’t ignore you after seeing you,” Giorno explained, thinking about how awkward he sounded. He played this moment out in his mind a thousand times, never once imagining that he would come off sounding so inept.

The nervous giggle you spoke through as you answered him further eroded away at his makeshift confidence. Who was he trying to fool, he thought to himself. He still adored you, clearly you still held all the power in this situation, but you were too virtuous to realise it.

That was one of your best traits, but also your worst, you were an idealist, often becoming disenchanted when things didn’t work out the way you planned. Giorno on the other hand was a realist, yes, he had many dreams, but he held no illusions about how to reach them or the sacrifices that would ultimately need to be made. This difference in world views resulted in many an argument, until finally you decided that you couldn’t keep fighting with this man, who only seemed to drift further and further away from you despite how much you loved him. To him you came off as arrogant and ungrateful, unwilling to see how certain decisions, however impossible, had to be made and it filled him with misery to do so, and to you, he came off as cold and unforgiving, willing to cast away precious bits of his humanity, and for what? He never explained anything to you.

Feeling uncomfortable with the silence after you spoke, Giorno tried to keep the conversation going.

“Your hair, you’ve let it grow out, it’s beautiful…” he said gazing dreamily at you.

“Oh, yeah, it’s due mostly to laziness, but it worked, so I just went with it, but thank you, you look very good too, life’s been treating you well,” you said with a bright smile. In your heart of hearts you knew a part of you would always love Giorno and would want him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. You were trying not to stare at him too much, but it was incredibly difficult not to, with his long golden curls and chiseled, handsome face that smiled so softly, you really couldn’t look away for very long.

“I’d really like to continue this catch up, I can tell you have somewhere else to be though… would you like to meet me for dinner tonight? Nothing fancy, just a couple of friends catching up,” he asked earnestly, his eyes searching your face for any hint of what might be going on in your mind.

Your heart fluttered against your will, you wanted to decline his offer but against your better judgment you agreed. It was just one dinner, a catchup between friends, could you even call each other that though? No matter, numbers had been exchanged and you had to dash back to your office to carry on with your work. No sooner had you sat down at your desk, did Giorno text you the time and place to meet him.

The rest of your day flew by, although you wished it would have dragged, and before you knew it, it was time for you to go home and freshen up before meeting Giorno. Staring at your reflection in what must have been your fourth outfit change, you scolded yourself for over thinking everything. You hurriedly retouched your hair and makeup and left for the restaurant, knowing you were running a bit late. Walking up the stairs to reach the entrance brought back a rush of memories with each step you took. Recollections of fun dates, precious friends and balmy nights like this bombarded your senses, almost as if you were transported to that very time. You walked in and saw the place empty, except for a table near the balcony. Some things never changed you mused… although you couldn’t blame this on Giorno’s tendency to go over the top this time, booking out entire establishments was less about asserting his clout or showing off, but more about protecting himself from potential threats.

The clicking of your heels on the expensive tiles caught Giorno’s attention, and his senses feasted on the way you were illuminated by the muted lighting, the soft lilt of your voice as you greeted him with a smile and the pretty floral scent you wore- his favorite scent on you.

Giorno stood up to greet you, pulling out your chair for you with all the grace of a nobleman. You noticed he was a lot more relaxed, even abandoning his open chested suits for more casual attire, and wearing his hair completely unbound. He politely waited for you to adjust yourself in your seat before taking his own again. His manners were always impeccable, you thought, even when he fought with you, he was never disrespectful, choosing rather to rely on other means to get his point across.

“Thanks once again for joining me cara, I appreciate you sacrificing your time for me, I hope you don’t mind, I’ve already picked out the wine and appetizers for us. Forgive me but I’m starving,”

“It’s okay, I should be the one to apologize, I arrived late, I’m sorry,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

“It’s alright Bella, it’s a small price to pay for such lovely company,”

Giorno’s words caught you off guard, roping you in with the silken threads of his voice.

“Giorno, what’s going on? Out of nowhere we find ourselves here, in this romantic setting, behaving like a couple. Earlier on you said we’re meeting as friends, although I doubt you dole out such complements to Fugo and Mista,”

“I could, you don’t know that…”

You burst out laughing, perhaps a bit too loudly, at his remark, which earned a soft chuckle from him as well.

“I’m sorry, I guess the mafia has really changed you.”

“Well maybe, but also not that much. In quiet, private moments like these, I’ll always be Gio, your Gio. Well I’m lying there, I guess when I’m with you, I’m just Haruno. You’re the only one who knows me, the real me… I miss this, I miss us,” mumbled Giorno as he spoke in the middle of a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Something about how sad his voice sounded combined with that chaste kiss, picked open a wound you didn’t even know you had, sending to the surface everything you buried deep within your soul, for fear of hurting this man whom you loved so deeply.

“You have no right to look that way, to so unashamedly say these things without thinking about what those words and actions do to me. For years all I’ve ever been doing is running after you, staring at your back, wondering if you’ll ever turn around and truly see me for who I am. When we were in school you just disappeared one day and returned as… this mafia boss. Still, I accepted everything and wanted to build your dream alongside you but again, you never allowed me to stand beside you, and I overlooked that, and so many other things to try and make you happy. And now, after a year, you waltz back into my life as if you were just on vacation. Don’t think I don’t know about the numerous escapades you’ve had, I’m not upset though, you’re a free man, and I’m the one who ended things after all… its just… I don’t even know what I’m doing here, this was a mistake, please excuse me” You stood up to leave when Giorno blocked your way, gripping your wrist tightly enough to restrain you, but not enough to hurt you.

“Please… I’d like for us to talk, there’s so much I need to say. I know I’m being selfish, but please, humor me one last time. If by the end of this evening you want me to leave and never cross your path again, I’ll abide by those wishes” implored Giorno.

Reluctantly, you retake your seat, noticing that even the staff had become invisible.

You looked at the man sitting opposite you , encouraging him to speak.

“Cara, I… I’ve done some questionable things. Many of which I’m not proud of at all. I’ve hurt people, I’ve tried to manipulate you into coming back to me, all of which backfired ending up in me hurting myself and the people around me. But you just kept thriving, I couldn’t stand it. I still can’t stand it. The ugly truth is that you don’t need me, but I need you… you’re my one constant. Make no mistake, amore, you don’t have to do anything to make me happy, you just do, and for that reason I didn’t want to involve you in anything that posed a danger to you. I know it’s not ideal , but I don’t know how else to be,”

Silence cloaked the room after Giorno spoke, you searched his face for the slightest hint that he could be lying, but found none. Unable to hold your gaze any longer, he looked away dejectedly. It’s been years since you’ve seen him expose so much of himself, and it hurt you to know he was still silently fighting his personal battles.

“Thank you Gio, that couldn’t have been easy to say, so I appreciate your candor. You know a large part of me will always love you,”

“but” he interjected, sadness dripping from his voice.

“but getting over you was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I can’t do that again,”

Taking a lock of your hair in his hand, enjoying the intimacy of the act, he replies “what if you didn’t have to do that again? I’m determined to make this work. If you give us another chance, I’ll do things differently. You’ll come to realize that I’ve changed,”

You were scared of going down that path again, but, there was something different in his demeanor this time, something you felt you could trust, so you went with your gut instinct and wordlessly decided you’d give this one last chance, gently grasping the hand that Giorno held your hair with.

“We’ll take things slow bella, from the beginning, I want you to get to know me as I am right now,”

“I’d like that Gio,” you say with a kind smile.

The rest of the long evening was spent wining and dining and engaging in silly conversations about a multitude of things. When it came time for you both to go home, Giorno insisted on taking you home and making sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading home himself. You were hopeful for what the future might hold. That night you fell asleep with a smile after reading the sweet goodnight message from Giorno, thinking that finally the sun came out to shine on you again.

#giorno giovanna #giorno #giorno giovanna x reader #don giorno #don giovanna #giogio #jjba giorno giovanna #jjba #vento aureo #jjba x reader #giorno x reader #post breakup #Spotify

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red-kewpie-cap · 3 years

Text

Over an Anpan, Really

Shigaraki x Reader, sfw, word count 1,709

"Thank you, have a nice day!" you smiled politely from behind the front countertop. The customer waved as she exited, and the bell above the door chimed upon its closing.

"I'll be out back waiting for the supply truck. They should be coming," your coworker, Miyaguchi, paused to check his watch, "in two minutes. Can you handle the shop for an hour or so?"

You nodded, "Gotcha."

"Alright, thanks. I'll be back!" Miyaguchi spun around the door and left through the kitchen behind you. You listened for the back door as it closed.

Your elbow was propped atop the cool, marble countertop, your head resting lightly on your hand. The pastries encased in the glass displays were freshly baked this morning, and you had to hold yourself back from stealing a few.

It was only your first month in Japan, and you were still learning the ropes language-wise, culturally, and socially. Unlike in your home country, running in to famous pro-heroes was more common here due to living in the most populated city.

You admired hero work greatly, so you kept a small book of the biggest heroes in Japan in case you ever encountered one. The bakery was fairly empty—it was still early, anyway. Adults were commuting to work outside the shop's windows, and students skipped to school in their matching uniforms.

You sighed and pulled your booklet out from the counter's bottom shelf. A green tag stuck out from the top near the first few pages. You opened the book from the marker and began to read about the hero on the page, Mt. Lady.

Fully indulged in your reading, you were startled by the bakery doorbell's chimes.

"Oh! Good morning, what can I get you today?" You fumbled with the booklet and—subsequently—ended up dropping it on the opposite side of the counter.

Damn it.

The customer delivered a judging stare before slowly bending over to pick the book up. They held the stapled spine between their thumb and index, the rest of their fingers held high above the booklet.

Are they afraid of germs?

They dropped the book on the counter. Bashfully, you thanked them, ensuring the distance between you two in case they really were disturbed by germs.

You only then noticed the person's unordinary appearance. A white, detached hand held onto their face, and several more latched onto their upper body. Their baby blue hair was unkempt and tangled, and their black garments were just as tattered; however, you weren't one to judge, so you asked for their order just as any good employee would.

"Give me an anpan." His voice was higher than you expected and oddly soothing.

Although he did not appear as polite as most customers, you followed his directions and wrapped the single bun in paper. Waiting a few seconds more, you then asked with a smile, "Is that all, sir?"

His shoulders dropped ever so slightly, and he shook his head.

"Alright then. That'll be two hundred yen," you said, internally cringing at your slight mispronunciation. Your Japanese was far from perfect.

The man grabbed the paper bag and turned to the exit with no intention of paying.

"Ah, sir! You have to pay for that!" You worriedly glanced at the back door to see if Miyaguchi was still outside. Seeing that he was absent, you hurried around the counter and stood in between the front door and the blue haired man.

"You have to pay for your food, sir," you stated adamantly. If Miyaguchi discovered that the store had been robbed during your shift, you would be in deep trouble—no matter how much money was taken.

"Move" was all he said.

"You have to pay first," you replied.

The man sighed dramatically and dragged himself to a table with two, pastel yellow chairs. He unwrapped the bun, carefully sticking his pinkie finger out as he did so.

What a polite robber.

"Are you going to pay?" you asked, growing more confused than angry.

The strange man tapped the leg of the chair across from him with his foot. "Sit down."

You deliberately followed along. Perhaps showing kindness would convince him to pay for his food.

Slowly, he removed the white hand from his face, revealing a pair of cherry red eyes. He had two scars: one over his right eye, another across the side of his mouth. A mole dotted his pale skin beneath his bottom lip, and dark bags sagged beneath his tired eyes.

You gave no reaction but only observed him further. The man then looked at you, his eyebrows laced with both judgement and confusion. "Aren't you scared?"

"No," you responded, "should I be?"

He rose the anpan to his mouth and bit into the soft bun. Swallowing his bite, he continued, "I'm a villain. I could kill you."

Despite him having no joking tone, you couldn't take his words seriously. Somehow, proclaiming oneself as a villain while dressed in all black felt all too cliché to you.

"Did you just laugh?" He looked up through slit like eyes.

"Huh—no! Did I? I must've thought of something funny." You frantically waved your hands in front of your face, a single bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

He stared a second longer before taking another bite of the anpan. There was an uncomfortable silence.

You've never been in a situation like this before at work—a man who seemed to be stealing was now seated before you, engaging in what could be considered a conversation. Nonetheless—a villain—who was believed to be worse than a criminal. You weren't sure what to do, but as long as he payed for his food, you would be satisfied.

"Are you going to call the police?"

"No. I wasn't planning on it," you spoke honestly. "I just want you to pay for your food so I can keep my job."

"It's only two hundred yen."

"Two hundred yen that could get me fired."

He hummed and took the last bite of the bun. In his palm, he crumpled the paper wrapper, then closed his fingers over the trash. The paper disintegrated in seconds, and you somehow managed to inhale some of the dust left over, making you sneeze.

He tilted his head up and looked at you with another blank expression. It was so difficult to read him.

"Excuse me," you sputtered quietly in English.

Desperate to keep your new job, you resorted to flattery. "You have very nice... eyes... by the way. I've never met someone with red eyes before."

He didn't seem amused, but then again, he didn't seem anything majority of the time.

"What's your name,” his sentence more of a command than a question.

"Sato," you lied. He was still a villain no matter how unthreatening he appeared in the moment.

"Sato," he repeated suspiciously, "really?"

You nodded, following his gaze that traveled from your chest back to your eyes.

"Your name tag seems to disagree, (y/n)."

God, you’re an idiot.

"Right! Sato is my... middle name. I'm not from Japan, so my real name is a bit hard to pronounce. That's why I go by Sato," you stammered, fiddling with your apron the entire time.

"Well, did I say it correctly?" he inquired with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

You rapidly nodded.

"Then go by it. Sato's an ugly name."

You couldn't tell if this was an attempt to compliment you or if he genuinely disliked the name Sato.

"So... are you going to pay now?"

There was the thousandth silence between you before the man groaned loudly, dragging a single hand across his face with annoyance. He continued to pull out a phone and dial a random number.

You waited awkwardly as the phone rang for the longest time possible before someone picked up.

"I need money," he grumbled.

A voice buzzed in response, but the receiver was not loud enough for you to understand. You simply sat still, occasionally fidgeting with your apron as he argued on the phone. He finally ended the call with "Be quick."

Not even seconds later, a flash of purple swirled outside the bakery doors. Another strange man stepped out of the ominous dust.

His entire body was a patched quilt with stitches connecting a purple-ish colored skin to what remained of his natural skin. He had fluffy, yet sharp, black hair and wore a long trench coat just as torn as the man before you.

Villains must not buy new clothes often.

The bell rang for the fifth time that day as the man entered. He immediately turned his attention toward you, completely overlooking his defeated friend.

You gulped.

"You never pay for shit, Shigaraki. Have you finally softened up? Or are you being held hostage." The nightmarish man had a mocking tone in his voice, and he stared at you despite speaking to his friend.

"Just give me the damn money," the villain—who was apparently named Shigaraki—hissed back.

"You got it, boss," the latter quipped, sarcastic and mockingly.

He fished a five hundred yen coin out of his coat pocket and dropped it on the table. Shigaraki was already standing up by that time, brushing his hands on his black shirt.

"Let me get you your change," you exhaled, relieved that you managed to get your way. You swiftly shuffled back to the cash register, but the two men were already on towards the exit.

"He wants you to keep it," whispered the black haired friend with a playful wink, and the doorbell rang for the last time that hour.

You witnessed the same purple cloud swallow the two just outside the front door, and they were gone.

Your eyes stared at the booklet that still lie on the countertop. Flipping through the glossy pages, you stopped at the middle where it transitioned to the "Villains" section. Likely enough, there was a page solely dedicated to the blue haired man who had just attempted to steal an anpan from your bakery.

You spent the next twenty minutes reading about him—his crimes, his victories, and his defeats. "Interesting guy," you muttered to yourself.

#shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #self insert #sfw #gender neutral reader #if you see this please tell me how to insert a downloaded gif #writing tingz

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 7

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

AN: Tick Tock goes the clock. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

---------------------------

The buzzing of his phone is what woke Spencer up. He grumbled, fumbling around his bedside table for the source of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Agent Reid?” A vaguely familiar voice asked, “I’m sorry to wake you but I didn’t know who to call and I-“

“What’s going on?” Spencer interrupted, sitting up quickly as he recognized the voice of one of Hotch’s cleared agents.

“I’m on watch at the park this morning and I think something’s wrong. There’s a note and a clear bag full of stuff but no body, and we’ve been here all night. Hotch took the others to meet the director. He said to call you if anything happened.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, my partner’s with me, she’s checking the bushes.” He explained. Vaguely, Spencer could hear the rustling of the partner in the background, “Agent Reid I don’t know what to do here….”

Doctor. The voice in his head corrected instinctively, but he kept quiet, already three steps ahead. Today was the day your stalker was supposed to drop off his next body. Everybody would be on high alert, especially you. If Hotch had gone to the director he must’ve been expecting a pretty serious escalation, and that made Spencer nervous. He glanced out into the lounge, to where he knew you were curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

“Okay, wait there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He explained, pulling on the first clothes he could find and strapping on his firearm belt, “Just keep the perimeter clear and make sure no one gets in and out, alright?”

“Alright.”

Spencer got ready as fast as he could, running through every possible scenario in his head as the adrenaline started to slowly creep in. He slowly snuck through the living room, smiling softly as he noticed your sleeping form huddled under a pile of blankets. There was something tender about the way you looked then, something different to all the times he’d seen you fall asleep on the jet. Here, you were completely unguarded, comfortable and soft, and it made Spencer absurdly proud to know that he’d made you feel safe enough for that. For a moment he considered waking you up, but he remembered the dark bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped with exhaustion and he decided against it. You’d been going through hell, and you deserved to sleep. Plus, he rationalized as he opened the door and snuck out, it’s not like you could come with him anyway. There was no need to worry you.

Spencer sighed, pushing all thoughts of you to the back of his mind as he forced himself to focus on the case.

——————————-

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you tried very hard to look busy, fiddling with a completed report as you walked through your master plan one last time. Your eyes flickered to Spencer as he talked animatedly with JJ about something you couldn’t really hear. He leaned back against the desk, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his read sweater and shirt were rolled up above his elbows and you couldn’t help but glance at his exposed forearms and hands. Spencer’s hands were...unfairly attractive. Truly, truly unfairly attractive. The kind of attractive that made doing your job really difficult and made you wonder what exactly was going on with you. His hands, Y/N? You asked yourself, his hands? Really? Get it together man.

But it was too late, you were completely and utterly smitten. You knew it, your friends knew it, the lady at the coffee shop knew it. You were pretty sure every living person in Virginia knew it, except Spencer. Hopefully. Hopefully Spencer didn’t know, yet at least.

Just then you heard him laugh and your nerves intensified. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and forget this stupid plan and everything would go on as normal. You could do normal, right?

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Morgan greeted, “what’re you doing here so late?”

You flushed, “Oh I-you know-“ you let out a breathy laugh, “just finishing off some work.”

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, but let the matter drop, pulling you into a right side hug, “Alright, Y/L/N, keep your secrets. You know I’ll find out, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re relentless, I know,” you smiled back, “seriously Morgs, I’m all good.”

He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Okay. I’ll see you, kid.”

You waved him off, feeling a familiar pinch of guilt in the pit of your stomach as he vanished off into the elevator. Out of the corner of your eye you saw JJ step away from Spencer and you took a deep breath, steeling every last bit of nerve you had.

“Hey, Spence, can you wait for a minute?” You called, hoping you didn’t sound quite as nervous as you felt.

Spencer cocked his head to the side, but gave you a small smile, “Sure, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

You took another deep breath, fighting the urge to look away or fiddle with your bag, “I was-um-what’re you doing tomorrow?”

Spencer thought for the briefest moment before answering, “Tomorrow? I’ve got a report to do and some cold cases to go over and then I was just going to go home and read a few books. Why?”

You flushed. This was it. This was the moment you’d been hyping yourself up for all week.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to go see a movie or something?” You asked all in one breath, forcing yourself to meet his eye.

Spencer frowned, “A movie? Y/N, you know I don’t have a DVD player.”

“No!” You quickly corrected with a nervous laugh, as your heart rate doubled, “No, Wise Guy, I meant with me, like at a cinema. There’s a foreign film festival in town I thought you might like.” You paused and then continued, “And maybe after we could get dinner, or coffee or something? If you’d like.

You waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming. For a long while Spencer just stared at you, opening and closing his mouth like a confused goldfish. Every second that he was silent, your heart sank just a little further and you felt your skin start to burn with embarrassment.

“Y/N-“ Spencer started.

Your eyes were pricking with tears of embarrassment, but you blinked them away, quickly shoving your last few possessions into your bag and forcing a smile.

“It’s cool. I get it,” you said quickly, “No hard feelings, but I had to try. See you, Reid.”

You vaguely heard him call your name again, just once, but you ignored him, rushing through the bullpen faster than you’d ever gone before. You wanted to scream, or rip your face off, or curl up in a ball and die, but you could do that here. Not with Spencer’s eyes still boring into your back like a drill. The elevator door closed and you slid to the ground, burying your face in your knees as the suppressed tears slid down your cheek.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the first number you could think, “Morgs? Are you and ‘Nel still at her apartment?” You asked, sniffing, “Can I come?”

————————————-

When you woke up you had the vague impression that you’d been sad recently. It was a fleeting impression, gone as soon as you registered it, but it confused you and set an odd tone for the day. You looked around, remembering the previous night and the conversation you’d had with Spencer, and smiled gently. You’d never thought that you’d be able to be friends with Spencer again, not after your disastrous attempt at asking him out. Ugh, just the thought made you cringe with embarrassment. But he’d forgiven you, it seemed. Or at least he hadn’t brought it up or acted weird and uncomfortable with you, which was a relief.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” you called, “what’re you making me for breakfast?”

The only answer was silence. You sat up, letting your blanket fall away.

“Spencer?” You called again, “Are you home?”

Again, no answer. Just then, your phone rang and you answered.

“Hey, ‘Nel, is Spence with you?” You asked quickly.

“Sugar Plum!” She greeted, “You’re up.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, “I know, it’s miraculous. Is he at the office?”

“Nope,” Penelope answered, “he’s not on duty today. Well, he is but not like, FBI duty, he’s on Y/N duty. He’s not with you?”

“No,” you admitted, strolling through the apartment to double check, “looks like he left in a hurry.”

“Maybe he went to get breakfast or coffee or something,” Penelope suggested, “you know he doesn’t tend to keep actual people food in his lair.”

You worried at the inside of your cheek, a nagging worry still sitting in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed it down.

“You’re probably right,” you sighed, “can you ask Hotch if he’s seen him just in case?”

“Sure thing, hun. Him and Emily are right here.”

“Okay, thanks ‘Nel, let me know if you hear from him?” You asked.

“But of course, mon ami,” she agreed, “and if anything comes up in the case I’ll call.”

You put the phone down and shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever funk you were in. It wasn’t abnormal for Spencer to leave to get coffee without telling anyone, and it was just like him to do something sweet like going to get breakfast for you both. But it wasn’t like him to leave without waking you, especially not with what was going on.

“Stop it,” you told yourself, “stop worrying. He’s fine. It’s fine.”

So you forced yourself to behave normally. You made coffee, brushed your teeth, pulled on a set of fresh clothes and perused Spencer’s extensive library, picking a book and settling onto the couch. More time passed. More time, the clock tick tick ticking away the minutes. Pretty soon it was obvious that Spencer wasn’t getting coffee, and then your anxiety spiked. For a long while you just stared at a random page in the book, not absorbing anything whatsoever as your mind raced.

Your phone beeped and you grabbed it frantically, relaxing when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen.

“Spence,” you sighed with relief as soon as you picked up the phone, “oh my god I was so worried. Where the hell are you?”

For a second there was just heavy breathing and then, frantically “Y/N don’t-“

“If you want to see Spencer Reid alive again, meet me at the address I’ve programmed into your car’s GPS,” a robotic voice said, “come alone. If you tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll kill him. If you bring back up, I’ll kill him. If you don’t show up, I’ll kill him. You have twenty minutes.”

You felt like the world had stopped spinning, like the floor had dropped out from under you and you were free falling into empty space. There were chills running up your spine and your heart pounded like an anvil in your fragile rib cage. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer, it pounded. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. How had he gotten him? You were living your worst nightmare in real time. You saw the mutilated body in your bookstore, the gruesome crime scene photos on Rossi’s crime boards. Was that Spencer now? Was he dead because of you? You imagined him lying on the ground, helpless and bleeding out, his deep brown eyes lifeless and still and, without meaning to, a whimper ripped itself from your throat.

“He’s alive.” You told yourself firmly, “He’s still alive.”

You could barely think. You were in a kind of fugue state. Nothing but pure instinct and muscle memory got you into your car and onto the road and the first cognitive thought you had, as you got closer and closer to the destination, was that you would never be making this return trip. This type of stalker would never let you go, never. He’d never let Spencer go. He’d kill himself and both of you before he let you slip out of his grasp again. This was his endgame for some reason, and you were playing right into it. But what else could you do? He had you in the palm of his hand. The fact was, no matter what you wanted or thought or knew, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for Spencer Reid, nothing you wouldn’t risk. You would walk into hell and back for him, and that was that.

Somewhere along the drive you accepted your death. You would not make the return trip, and that was okay. You would die sometime soon, but so would this monster. He would kill you, and you’d use your last moments of strength to take the son of a bitch down with you. He wouldn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else, you promised yourself. No matter what happened, you would be his last victim. You would find a way to save Spencer too, you repeated to yourself again and again. You wouldn’t make the drive home, but Spencer would. You would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

The GPS announced that you had arrived at your destination, an old house on the outskirts of a quiet suburb. You took a moment in the car to breathe, tightening your knuckles on the steering wheel. You ached to just call Penelope, to tell her everything and let the team rescue you. Oh God, your friends. How would they feel when they found your body? After all the work they’d done to keep you safe, here you were throwing it all away. On a whim, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick group message.

From Y/N Y/L/N

Thank you for everything. I love you all so much

Short, sweet, not even nearly enough. You’d meant to say more, you’d always meant to say more, but you’d thought you had years. Two tears slipped down your cheek as you stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition so that Spencer would have a way to get away when it was all over. There was an FBI sedan parked in the driveway, but at this point you didn’t care much about the profile. All that mattered was getting this over with.

Luckily your stalker hadn’t specified that you couldn’t bring a gun. You drew your weapon, but didn’t bother with stealth, striding straight into the house with a single minded focus.

“I’m here,” you called, “where are you?”

You heard the sound of shuffling coming from a back room, a fist connecting with something solid and you bit back a whimper.

“We’re in here,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with pain.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears but you kept your trigger finger steady. Despite the terror, you were trained for this. You would not fail. Before you stepped into the room, you felt a tinge of panic. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready to face the man who’s caused all this, but you had to. You had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, calming yourself down and schooling your features into something serene. You had to focus on not escalating the situation, that was your best shot at keeping Spencer alive.

“You can do this,” you whispered, to yourself, “you can do this.”

And, with that, you stepped into the room, “FBI, put your hands in the air.”

—————————

“Y/N,” a familiar voice greeted with an almost breathless excitement, “I was worried that you wouldn’t come.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “Agent Connolly?”

“I knew you remembered me!” Rick Connolly cheered, the barrel of a handgun pressed to Spencer’s temple.

Your heart pinched at the sight, but you tried not to let the fear show up in your face. Rick Connolly had worked at the BAU for longer than you had. It made a sick sort of sense, the worst kind. He’d been on cases with you, written up paperwork with you, helped with filing. His background checks were always clean, there’d never been any complaints against him. Never. He was a good agent, a reliable ally for the BAU. No matter what happened, Agent Rick Connolly was always close by.

“Of course I remember you, Connolly,” you said with a forced smile, “how could I possibly forget you?”

“Rick.” He insisted, “It’s Rick.”

“Rick, of course, sorry-“

“You call him Spencer,” Connolly interrupted, pressing the barrel of the gun into Spencer’s temple harder and snarling down at him, “not Reid, Spencer. I heard it when he called you.”

“Hey, hey hey,” you said quickly, lowering your gun and raising your hands, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake, of course I should call you Rick. I mean, Spencer is just a work colleague, right? But you’re so much more.”

His eyes lit up with a perverse hope, “I am. I love you more than any of them. I’ve done more for you than any of them. I did all of it, all of it!”

“I know, thank you,” you replied, forcing another gentle smile, “for doing all of that. For loving me like you do.”

You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, watching you like you were a lifeline, or like he was scared he’d never see you again, but you kept your eyes on Rick.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back.

“But, now that I’m here,” you tried gently, “now that you’ve got my attention and I know how much you love me, why don’t you let Spencer go, hm? That way we can be alone.”

Rick frowned, “Let-let him-? No! No way!” He tightened his grip again and Spencer groaned with pain, “Don’t you see? He needs to die. He’s trying to keep us apart! He wants you gone for good.”

You shook his head, feeling the rising panic, “No he doesn’t, Rick. Reid is my friend, he would never try and keep us apart, right Reid?”

For a moment Spencer was silent, swaying on his feet, but he managed to nod his head and get out a small, “She’s right.”

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Rick yelled, cocking the gun.

“No!” You screamed, forcing Rick’s attention back to you, “Rick, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he needs to die. I understand the rest, but I’m still confused. Can-would you be able to explain it to me?”

Rick looked confused for a moment, his gaze jumping between you and Spencer. You held your breath, praying you hadn’t overplayed your hand, only relaxing when he turned back to face you.

“He,” he started, gesturing the gun at Spencer, “got you shot. He let you walk into an active bomber situation alone,” he explained, “he spent years nearly getting you killed and then, when he saw our love, he made you leave! He wants you to be alone and miserable! He wants me to be alone!”

You tried to process the rush of information as quickly as you could, latching onto the first advantage you could find.

“Spencer didn’t make me leave,” you said.

“He did! I saw it! You asked him to go out and he turned you down! He lead you on and then he rejected you, so you left!” Rick yelled, “You thought you were alone, you both did, but I was there, watching. I was always watching. I had to keep you safe, I had to make sure you were protected.”

Spencer whimpered, his shoulders slumping with defeat, as though he’d been found out, and you looked at them both, confused. What on earth were they on about?

You felt the realization click, and your eyes widened with surprise “Oh Rick, oh no you misunderstood.” You started. You stepped closer, keeping your hands raised to show that you weren’t a threat, “You’re right, Spencer did say no when I asked him out, but I’d already resigned by then. I was going to tell him that night but I didn’t get the chance. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine.”

———————————

Spencer was in pain. Deep, aching, throbbing pain. He was pretty sure he had at least one cracked rib, maybe more, and the swift punches to his stomach had knocked the wind right out of his chest. His head was heavy and thick with confusion and, without the strong arm holding him up, he would’ve collapsed onto the floor. Everything in Spencer’s body screamed for an end to the pain. But that was nothing compared to the sick, heavy weight of guilt that hit him when he saw your face. He’d brought you here, you’d come for him. He’d let himself get caught, he’d fucked up. He’d put you in danger when you’d trusted him, but God, he was relieved to see you. And he hated himself for that.

You were beautiful. So so so beautiful. Had he ever told you that? Even with your face set into a mask of calm and determination, you were radiant. Wait, what? He thought to himself, what’re you thinking? Your eyes flickered over to him with a subtle note of concern. Focus, Spencer, he told himself, what did she just say?

His captor seemed confused. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another, looking between the two of you like you were a particularly frustrating puzzle.

“What-what does that-why are you saying this?” Rick asked loudly, lifting the gun to point it at you, “Why’re you saying this?”

You flinched, but stayed calm, “Because it’s the truth. Spencer isn’t the reason I left, he had nothing to do with it. Spencer wants us to be together, that’s why he brought me here.”

You spoke to Rick in a low, soothing voice like he was a wild animal and, as you spoke you were creeping closer and closer. Spencer tracked your movement with his eyes, noticing that you’d shifted your gun belt to be on the side closer to Spencer. It wasn’t an accident.

“Rick, baby,” you crooned, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much, but you don’t need to do it anymore. I’m here now, I’m yours. Let’s get out of here, just you and me, before anyone else arrives.”

“You want that?” Rick asked.

“Of course I do,” you said, with a sweet laugh, “but that gun is scaring me. Can we put it away and let Spencer go so that we can go?”

There was a long pause. Rick looked like he was in a trance, staring at you like you were a walking daydream. Your eyes flickered to Spencer and softened for just a second. Just a brief moment of acknowledgment, almost as though you simply couldn’t help yourself. You were close enough now that Spencer could smell your perfume, which was lucky because, right then, Rick’s dreamy look vanished and he began lifting his gun and pointing it right at you.

“LIAR!” He yelled.

Spencer heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot, but he had no time to check where it had landed. Instead he lunged forward, grabbed your gun and, in a moment of instinct, pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Rick’s right shoulder. Rick dropped his gun and, in an instant Spencer was on his back, immobilizing him with the pair of cuffs you handed him and rendering him harmless. For a long moment there was just silence as Spencer stared down at the man who had tricked him, savoring the moment of victory until it was broken by a pained gasp. His stomach sank. The bullet, the bullet, where was the bullet Rick had fired?

“Oh my God.” You said breathlessly, sinking down against the nearest wall as blood started to stain your crisp white button down, “Fuck.”

The blood was coming from your abdomen, from a hole just left of your naval that you were pressing your sleeve against in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Your cheeks glistened with tears as you fought not to tense up despite the pain and Spencer felt, for the first time that day, true unadulterated panic.

“No, no no no no,” he said quickly, rushing to your side and gripping your free hand with his, “hey, look at me, we’re gonna be alright. Just keep your eyes open. Stay with me.”

You breathed out slowly through your mouth, “Don’t worry, doc,” you replied through gritted teeth, “ ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Spencer tried to assess the situation, but there was too much panic and adrenaline and fear in his system, and all he could see was the tender way you looked at him, and how you’d smiled the night before. His hands were shaking even where they held yours, and his eyes pricked with suppressed tears. You needed a hospital. You needed surgery and he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t carry you without making you bleed out, and he didn’t even know where you were. He was helpless.

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you said softly, “I never-I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Spencer laughed incredulously, even though nothing had been less funny in his entire life, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You saved us,” he squeezed your hand and was rewarded with a weak smile from you, “you always save us,” he continued, even more gently, “Rick was right about that. You’ve been saving me for years.”

“And you've saved me right back,” you pointed out, your voice heavy with the effort of keeping your eyes open.

Spencer pressed his lips together, tears pouring down his cheek as he fought back sobs and silently prayed to a God he’d never believed in for some kind of miracle.

“But I can’t save you now,” he sobbed.

“No, but we can,” a third, familiar voice answered.

If Spencer had been any less shocked, he would have laughed at the timing of it all. As it was, he just stared into the eyes of his team as though he wasn’t sure they were real.

“MEDIC! We need a medic in here.” Derek Morgan continued, appearing in the doorway like the miracle he was and instantly taking control of the situation.

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you out through the doorway just as Emily helped Spencer to his feet and slung his arm around her shoulders to help support his weight. Somewhere in the background Spencer could hear Hotch reading Connolly his rights, and Rossi making some comment about Rick wishing it had been a kill shot. Everything felt surreal, like some sort of fantasy or a hallucination he’d created to keep from having to lose you again, but he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

“Y/N,” he said softly as Emily handed him off to a nearby medic in the back of a waiting ambulance, “I need to see, Y/N. Please, is she alive?”

The medic gave him a sympathetic smile, bundling him onto a gurney, “I can’t let you see her, sir. They’re taking her straight to surgery.”

“But she’s alive?” Spencer insisted as the paramedics fussed and flitted around him.

The original medic nodded, “For now, she’s alive.”

-----------------------

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Sooner | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Requested by anon! You break up with your boyfriend at the annual dinner staff celebration. But thankfully, Sunwoo swoops in to save the day.

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint. CEO! Sunwoo au, Noona au.

A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long with requests but I literally have NO time to write *cries*. But I’ll try my best to go through them asap. Thank you for your patience and for understanding, and thank you most of all, for reading my works <3 <3

-------------

"Now is your time," Jacob urges, "do something."

He doesn't have to call Sunwoo for attention, for the said man's eyes are already riveted towards the couple in question swaying on the dance floor. Or had been swaying anyway. Because right now, they're squarely facing each other and even with the loud music booming through the speakers, small snippets of angry conversation seems to reach the pair.

"I can't do that," Sunwoo mumbles while ducking his head away, "you know I can't do that. People will talk--"

"People will always talk Sunwoo," Jacob cuts him off with a stern look, "you're not doing that as Mr. Kim, CEO of Kim Finances. You're doing it as Kim Sunwoo, just a guy smitten with his junior associate."

The younger man decides to keep quiet, though Jacob can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

"I can't keep doing this Jaehwan," your voice suddenly pierces through the music, "how am I supposed to trust the fact that you're hanging out with your ex--you go out to drink with her! I--"

"She knows my friends Y/N, she's already in the group. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about this!"

Beside him, Jacob scoffs, "what a dick."

"Because you did it once!" You yell out, fists clenched and chest heaving, "you did it once Jaehwan. How--How am I supposed to trust you--"

Jaehwan murmurs something before his hands reach out as a gesture to calm you. But it's too late. You push at his chest while crying out, "Oh stop acting like you're the good guy. You know damn well what you did!"

People around you have stopped with curious gazes, something that's bound to result in office gossip the next day and though Sunwoo isn't one to act like a hero, he decides that he'd better swoop in before things get out of hand.

As the CEO, it's his duty. He tells himself. Yeah, that's right.

So that is how he finds himself striding up to the pair of you to position himself in a way that he can shield you from Jaehwan.

"Hey guys," his eyes flit back and forth between the pair, "we should probably take this outside--"

"You're one to talk Y/N," Jaehwan scoffs, "you accuse me of talking to my exes when you gallivant in the office, getting all friendly with the superiors--"

"They're just friends! And--"

"Think I didn't know you little game?! What about you flirting with him, all the time?!" Jaehwan jabs a thumb in Sunwoo's direction, causing him to blink in surprise before rage clouds over.

"Excuse me?" He finds his voice, fist suddenly clenching at his side while narrowing his eyes at the said man.

The latter scoffs, hands plopping atop his hips as he shakes his head, "wow, look at that. Y/N, what'd you do for him to take your side? Bet you had a nice suck--"

That does it. Sunwoo's fist flies forward, hits Jaehwan straight in the jaw.

The whole room gasps. Silence ensues.

It takes a few seconds for Jaehwan to straighten back up, his nostrils flared and his mouth twisted in a scowl that he throws at Sunwoo, "you little fucker--"

Everything happened so fast. One moment Jaehwan is lurching at the CEO's body and Sunwoo throws himself before Y/N, and the next, two colleagues are dragging Jaehwan away, all the while screaming obscenities for everyone to hear and see.

Noticing the way your face is crumpled as though you're about to cry, the CEO makes a grab for your shoulders, spins you around, and walks you out of the room, out of the gaping eyes drilling holes into the back of your heads.

It is only when the burst of fresh air hits your face that you inhale shakily, hands finding purchase onto the terrace railing.

"You okay?" Sunwoo murmurs softly.

While his fingers itch to touch you, hold you close, he decides that it's not wise. Not now.

"Noona?" He prompts.

"Huh?" Your eyes flutter up to his, causing his heart to squeeze at the sight of the tears brimming at the corners, "sorry, I--" taking a shaky inhale, you stumble through your words, "I'm sorry he lashed out at you--"

"Noona," Sunwoo rests his hand atop your arm, "it's fine. Breathe."

A long silence ensues where you try to even out your breathing. He watches though his chest hurts at the sight of your struggle, helpless in such a situation.

When you manage to recollect yourself long enough, you manage a wobbly smile. Sunwoo's heart clenches at the pain lingering in your brown orbs.

Fucking bastard, he swears if he ever sees his face he'll break his two legs.

"He's not wrong you know," you say, keeping your gaze averted, away from him, as if embarrassed by the mere notion of it.

Moving closerr to you, his hand settles on the small of your back, "what do you mean?"

"He--He knows we're close, too close for his liking. it didn't help that I told him how popular you were with the girls."

He scoffs, "not a reason."

"I might have also told him..." you spare him a glance and bite down on your bottom lip, "...that I liked you before. That's what started this whole thing. He thinks I cheated on him, with you. So he thinks it's okay to see his ex, except that--" swallowing hard, you continue in a whisper, "except that I never cheated. I'd never do that Sunwoo and--"

Tears are free falling down your cheeks now and without hesitation Sunwoo's arms lace themselves around your middle just in time for you to lean into his cheat to sob. He holds you, holds you as your ahoulders shake and your body quivers and all the sadness comes pouring out of you like a free-flowing river finally able to run its course.

He holds you, while trying not to let his brain jump to the conclusion that there might be a bigger strand of hope for him to catch your heart and make it his.

She liked me, his brain roars like a blaring siren.

Maybe she still does.

When your sobs finally calm down into soft sniffles, he manages to pull you back enough before cupping your chin and tilting it up so that you have no choice but look at him.

The emotion he finds swimming across your face causes another stab to resonate through his ribcage. He hates seeing you so frail, so weak.

"Even if we are close," he murmurs, "that doesn't justify him cheating. Nothing ever does."

"But it's my fault," you blubber against his chest, "I should've just kept my distance--"

"You'd ignore me for him?"

You hesitate slightly, "that's not what I--"

"No. Noona, you can't just end friendships with people just because he said so. If he loves you as he claims he does, he wouldn't be so jealous and insecure," He interrupts in barely-restrained anger, "being in love doesn't mean throwing away everything else. It doesn't work that way and he's a dick for even implying that on you."

He can keep going, but spotting your bottom lip wobbling is enough to allow the words to die at the back of his throat. Instead he just holds you a little closer, an embrace that you gladly accept, tucks your head under his jaw before rocking you back and forth like you're a child that needs comforting.

He isn't really aware of the hours that slip by, only realizes that it's late when he notices the lights aren't on anymore inside the room, that there aren't any voices in the vicinity to suggest that there's still a presence of a party. Glad that there aren't any curious eyes, he doesn't waste time guiding you to his car so that he can drive you home, scooping you into his arms -- you'd fallen asleep on the way and he knows his way to your flat -- and clumsily letting himself in your safe haven.

Gently laying you down onto a nearby sofa, your sleeping form snuggles closer to the pillows on instinct as a soft sigh leaves your lips. Sunwoo gathers a blanket from the side before he tucks you in, careful not to jostle you awake. But there's nothing to worry about. You are happily swept up in a reverie of dreams.

"Cute," Sunwoo can't help but mutter under his breath while crouching down to gaze fondly at your smoothed out features, a drastically different picture from the crying mess you'd been a few hours before.

He reaches out, hand brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

A soft sigh escapes him, "I liked you too, noona. I've always liked you, idiot."

And then, not being able to restrain himself, the young man leans over to drop a chaste kiss atop your forehead.

"Sleep tight, princess," he murmurs.

-------

Knock knock knock.

Sunwoo looks up from the pile of papers scattered across his desk, face worn out with tiredness and practically running on caffeine. Speaking off, he should probably get another cup.

"Yes?" He calls, though he inwardly cringes at the way his alto croaks without energy.

But the moment the door swings open to reveal your face, the young CEO relaxes. He leans back in his seat before closing his eyes, "it's only you."

"Were you expecting someone else?" You ask while closing his door. You approach his desk gingerly, with a fearful gait in your step that though you hope he doesn't notice, he does so anyway.

He shakes his head in response, before he motions her to take a seat. You don't though, rocking back and forth on your heels with your hands knotting themselves, a sign of nervousness.

"Noona?" He peers at you when you don't say anything, concern flaahing through his features, "what's wrong?"

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you squirm slightly before you manage to gather up all your courage to blurt out:

"I heard you, that night."

Silence. Sunwoo stares at you, confusion blossoming into realization when his brain puts two and two together.

He jolts up from his chair, "you heard--you mean, what--what did you hear?"

"Well," you shuffle from one foot to another while averting your gaze, "uhm--I heard you speak, that time when you carried me to my flat--"

"And you kept that to yourself all this time?!"

"What was I supposed to do?! I was confused!"

In truth, only two weeks had passed since the famous incident. Though, you were glad that Sunwoo had been too busy to actually realize you had been silently avoiding him. It had given you time to gather your thoughts and actually think over what you really wanted to say.

After all, Sunwoo is the CEO of Kim Finances. You are just a mere nobody. He doesn't really need you.

"You--You--" he struggles to gather his thoughts as he gazes at you, a mere puppy being kicked by its owner with his cheeks filling with the softest peony.

You approach his desk, noting the way his eyes widen at your blunt confidence while you round the table to stand before him.

"I like you," you look up at him boldly even when your cheeks are flaming with colour and your palms are coated with a sheen of swear, heart beating as if you’ve just run a mile without any breaks, "I've always liked you. Except, people talk and you’re like three years younger than me, which doesn’t help things and the fact that I just recently broke up with Jaehwan because of you just seems wrong--”

One second you’re trying to justify yourself, and the next Sunwoo is cupping your cheeks and pulling you in as his mouth finds yours in a hard, passionate kiss.

A small sigh escapes your throat, which he takes as a green light. His hands grip your waist before he pins your soft curves to his hard frame, the action leaving you breathless and your head dizzy as he slowly moves his lips over yours.

He kisses, nibbles, sucks softly while your hands pave a way up his chest to grip tight on his work shirt and when your butt hits the edge of his table, the young CEO doesn’t hesitate to grab your thighs before propelling you up on his desk. Covering your protests with his lips, body slipping right in-between your thighs while his tongue delves in to caress yours, a low growl echoes from deep within his chest when you kiss back with just as much ardour.

You’ve never really thought of kissing Sunwoo up until recently. But all these fantasies had always felt wrong somehow, maybe because you know he’s younger which automatically made him younger brother material. Or so you thought. And it’s not like his attitude had helped in the past. While he was the CEO of a big multinational company, Sunwoo was still a big kid at heart who just loved pestering you and bullying you with his affection.

But this, him kissing you and ravaging your lips as if that’s the last time you shall ever see each other again, that is definitely not the Sunwoo you’ve grown to know.

This is a different Sunwoo. This Sunwoo feels like a man. His grip is firm, his mouth hot and hard and just the pure bliss of a drug you can’t get enough of.

You’re not really sure when your arms manage to lace their way around his neck, but it’s only when you part for air that you realize how close you are, how his chest is practically pressed against yours it can be considered scandalous. He takes this chance to pepper soft kisses over your jaw and when you turn your head to allow him to explore, doesn’t hesitate to slowly nuzzle his way along your neck, nibbling here and there and causing your body to squirm, a soft whimper falling from your lips which he only answers with a deep, satisfied rumble from his chest.

Head tilting back up so that his nose brushes yours, he murmurs, “I don’t care what people think,” his alto is rough, so deep that it hits you with a wave of desire. You can’t help but notice his fingers which have somehow found a way to ghost up your thighs as he speaks.

Swallowing hard, you try to find your voice to answer him, “I--I don’t want this relationship to hurt your reputation--”

Another round of butterflies flutter up your chest when he drops a peck on your lips to shush you, “you think too much,” he mumbles against your mouth, pressing another chaste kiss, “about things that don’t matter.”

“Sunwoo, I--”

“Noona,” he gives you a hard look, dark eyes filled with an intensity, a depth that makes you wonder briefly whether he’s hiding a galaxy of feelings by the amount of tenderness echoing through his pools of dark obsidian.

“You can’t keep living for others,” he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, “and I’m not asking for much. All I ask is for you to give me a chance.”

He has a point. You’re always so self-conscious of what others might think that sometimes, you feel like it’s the reason why you’re so unhappy.

So as your eyes find his to answer his question, you dip your head down into a nod.

“okay,” you murmur. The man lets out a relieved sigh, before bringing you into another hug, one that fills your heart with a flurry of feelings you can’t quite place. Though you know they’re definitely tending towards the good side.

“You won’t regret it,” he whispers into your shoulder, pecking the side of your ear.

You shiver, arms wrapping a little tighter, “I know I won’t.”

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