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btsugarush · 1 year

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GANGSTA | myg - 003

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

warnings for this chapter: attempted sexual assault.

authors note: sorry if you asked to be tagged but weren’t. some accounts wouldn’t let me tag, so if you asked but you’re not here it’s likely because tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you.

word count: 3.3k

The erratic sound of banging on your front door startles you, nearly causing you an untimely death as you almost had a slip and fall in the shower. You regain your balance, groaning in the process as it didn’t take a village to figure out who exactly was pounding on your door at this time of night. You turn the valves, shutting off the water before grabbing a towel from the towel rack and wrapping it around yourself.

You step out of the tub, your wet feet pattering on the living room floor to let in who you could only assume was Mina. You pull open your front door, and Mina speeds past you without saying a word. “Mina, it’s late. What are you doing here? You know I have work tomorrow,” You frown, shutting the door.

When you turn to your friend, you notice her eyes were bloodshot red from crying. “Woah… what's wrong?” You scrunch your eyebrows, now feeling worried. “I think Jin is cheating on me.” She sniffs. Your eyes widened, and your mouth dropped open in shock. Jin? Cheating on Mina? You somehow found that hard to believe. Jin was in love with Mina.

“How can you be sure? Did you catch him?” She shakes her head, plopping down on your couch. “No. It’s just that he’s been acting so weird lately. He’s anxious, jumpy and he’s always checking his phone. He’s been so secretive.” You make a “tsk” sound, grabbing a chair from your table to pull up across from her, not wanting to sit your wet body on your couch. “You’re overthinking this. You said yesterday that he’s struggling with work, so it’s only plausible that he’s stressed and anxious.”

“Yeah, but he just doesn’t seem like himself. I’m worried he’s going to leave me.”

“Mina, Seokjin loves you. I’d be surprised if he was cheating. The guy literally worships the ground you walk on.” You smile softly, trying your best to reassure her. “He doesn’t seem to worship the ground I walk on much lately…” she wipes away the stray tears on her cheeks. “So talk to him, see where he’s coming from. Give him an ultimatum if you have to, I don’t know. But don’t assume the worst.”

Mina lets out a heavy sigh, slowly nodding her head. “I guess you’re right…” you knew you were right. Jin wasn’t even the type of guy to sneak around. He was always calling you in regards to Mina. What to buy her for her birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day. It just didn’t seem likely. “Can I sleep over tonight? I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.” You couldn’t refuse the offer, it beats taking the bus.

“How can I say no when you drive such a hard bargain?” You chuckle, standing up from the chair and dragging it back to your table. “Did I interrupt something?” Mina asked, just now noticing you were wrapped in a towel. “Only my shower.” You walk back into your bedroom, pulling open your wardrobe to grab a nightgown. You slip on the gown before lazily tossing your towel atop of your dresser.

Mina comes into your room after you’re dressed, throwing herself into your bed. “How was work today?” She asks. You grimaced. You didn’t even want to think or talk about work after what happened with Yoongi today. That guy seriously gave you the creeps. “Same old, same old until Mr. Kim made me deliver food in Gongdan.”

Mina gasped, sitting up in your bed. “You went to the devil’s playground?” You nodded, climbing into bed with her. “Yes, and that isn’t even the worst part. The person I was delivering to was that psycho Yoongi.” Mina gagged upon hearing the raven’s name. “I’m still creeped out from your altercation with him and his gang yesterday. What a coincidence.”

“I wouldn’t quite call it that…” you mumble, your mind wandering back to him knowing the details of your personal life. “What do you mean by that?” She raises a brow. You bite down on your bottom lip, contemplating on whether or not you should tell her about Yoongi and his “connections”. Mina wasn’t the type of person to handle news like that lightly. She’d be freaked out constantly looking over her shoulder.

“Nothing, I’m just overexaggerating.” You played it off. “I should get to bed. Don’t wanna collapse on the job tomorrow.” You stood up from your bed to switch off your lights before climbing back in to snuggle under your blanket. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“I’ll pick you up when you’re off, alright?”

“Sounds good. See you, Mina!” The blonde waves goodbye before pulling off. Hopefully she takes this time off to talk to her boyfriend, you could tell she was still sad about it. You enter Makoto, the door dinging as you do. “Oh, kid, thank god you’re here. I thought you were going to call off too.” Mr. Kim says upon your arrival; the older man was on the floor taking orders. “Too? Jimin isn’t here?” You frown, looking around for the brunette.

“No, that unreliable little shit called off. Apparently he has the flu. So hurry up and clock in, then come take over these orders.” You nod, walking to the back of the kitchen. You grab a time card and swipe it through the clock before taking an apron from the hook. As you’re tying the cloth around your waist, the kitchen phone begins to ring. “I got it.” Mr. Kim says, appearing from the cut.

You grab a notepad and pen from the pen holder, taking Mr. Kim’s place on the floor. There weren’t a lot of people in today, nor did you have a lot of orders to take considering Mr. Kim had already taken most of them. You were shocked that Jimin called off today. He never missed a day of work, you would’ve thought he was immune to any kind of disease.

“Well, aren’t you a better exception than the old man.” A young brunette says as you approach his table. He’s sitting across from a woman, who doesn’t seem to mind his eyes raking up and down your body. She must’ve been his friend, and not his girl. “Can I get you anything?”

“Your number.” He chuckles. You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh. You didn’t have time for this. “My name is Taehyung, beautiful. But you can call me Tae.” He bites down on his bottom lip in a sultry way. You shake your head, turning your attention to the girl instead as you saw you were getting nowhere. “Ma’am, can I get you anything?”

“I’ll just take some water, nothing else.” You write down her order, slowly nodding your head.‘You could’ve had water at your house.’ You thought, feeling as though these people were here to waste your time. You turn back to the man, Tae, seeing if he was finally ready to put aside the flirting and order something. “Now can I get you anything?”

“Rice cakes.” He replies dryly, looking off put at the fact you rejected him. He must not get too many rejections. You write down the order, throwing a smile their way. “I'll be back with your orders.” You stumble off into the kitchen, catching Mr. Kim stuffing a brown bag into a plastic one. “We’ve got another delivery order today.” He says, holding out the bag for you to take. You look from Mr. Kim, to the bag in his hands. “No way. Last time I went it was that thug, Min Yoongi.” You crossed your arms, refusing to take the bag.

“Yeah, so what? Like it or not, he’s still a customer. We can’t refuse people just because we don’t like them.”

“It’s more than that, Mr. Kim–”

Mr. Kim cuts you off before you’re able to continue protesting. “Take the damn order, y/n.” You sigh, snatching the bag from the older man’s hand. When you check the order, you’re not surprised that it’s the same address you went to yesterday. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Mr. Kim knew that Yoongi was stalking you, but he was too scared to put his foot down. If Jimin was there, he’d be the one doing deliveries. Was he actually sick? You weren’t so sure anymore.

You exit the kitchen through the back door, same as yesterday. As you pick up the red bike from the ground, you ponder on whether or not you should truly go to the address. You could just ride around, eat that jerk’s dumplings and then come back to work as if you made the trip. ‘What if that asshole calls though? He’ll probably get me fired.’ You pout. Guess you didn’t have a choice. Maybe you’ll just ring the bell this time, sit it out front and leave before he comes out.

You mount the bike, tie the bag to the handle just as you did the other day and ride off to Gongdan. You didn’t use your GPS this time around, seeing as you knew exactly where the destination was. As you cross over into the devil’s playground, you notice the same group of men standing on the corner smoking weed again. They watch you, whispering something amongst themselves.

‘Is this a daily routine for them?’

As the streets get emptier in this general territory, you knew you were close. For some reason people never seemed to venture where Yoongi’s little headquarters were, except for a few homeless folks. You make a turn, coming up on the warehouse. You ride your bike around to where you remember the front door was, and your face goes grim.

Yoongi was standing outside, puffing on a cigarette. The raven notices you pull up, and a smile forms his face. So much for leaving the damn food in front of the door. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite delivery girl.” You halt the bike, kicking forward the brakes before dismounting. You hand the raven his food, which he takes. “What? Not speaking to me?”

You keep your mouth closed, not giving him the satisfaction of you bantering back and forth. You don’t get very far before he’s stopping you from getting onto the bike. “Hey,” the raven grabs your wrist, twirling you around to face him. “I’m talking to you. I don’t take well to being ignored.”

You snatch your wrist away from him. “And I don’t take well to being stalked. I thought I told you to leave me alone?” Yoongi smirks. “And I thought I told you I get what I want?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You may get what you want, but I won’t be one of them. Next time you call my job under false pretenses, I’m not showing up.” You climb back onto the bike, kicking back the brakes before riding away from the warehouse. You don’t even spare a second glance at the man.

How long was this going to go on for? Was he constantly going to call on you for deliveries on your work days? Perhaps you should adjust your schedule. That way he wouldn’t know what days you worked. Your mind was so clouded with Yoongi that you neglected to pay attention where you were going. You end up making a hard stop as you notice a man in your pathway. “Hey!” You shout at him. “Don’t you know not to stand in the middle of a bike lane?”

The man doesn’t respond, casually spitting on the ground. You squint your eyes, the stranger looking vaguely familiar. It then dawns on you; he was one of the men that stood on the corner smoking weed. You feel slightly uncomfortable as the guy made no effort to speak, or even move out of your way. “Okay… guess I’ll just go around you then.” You try to maneuver around him, but he blocks your path again.

“What’s your problem? Move.” You say, once again trying to go around. Unfortunately it was all to no avail. You decide to back away instead, but bump into a figure. “Going somewhere?” Another man vocalizes from behind you. Your heart thumps against your chest, knowing no good was going to come from this situation. “We’ve seen you come down this way twice now. Not many girls like you ride through here.” The guy who blocked the front of your bike finally speaks with a gruff voice.

“Look… I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to get back to work.” You tell the guys, attempting to maintain a calm composure. You didn’t want to look as afraid as you felt. They both laugh, sharing a look of amusement with each other. “Heard that, Yejun? She doesn’t want any trouble.”

“Guess she shouldn’t have come to Gongdan then.”

You look between the two men, trying to come up with some course of action to get out of this predicament. You’re hardly able to make a move before you're suddenly snatched from the bike and being dragged into an alleyway. “Let go of me!” You scream, thrashing your body to get free. “She’s a feisty one, huh?” They simultaneously cackle.

You notice that the rest of the men you’ve seen standing on the corner were in the alley as well. This was surely premeditated. You're roughly thrown to the ground, two men immediately taking action to pin your arms down before you could get up. “Get the fuck off of me!” You screech, kicking your legs. “Hey, Jiwon, hold her legs down.” One of the guys instructed. Your legs were suddenly held down; you were completely restrained, and at the mercy of these sick men.

“Stop! Let go!” Another man is straddling you, pulling out a pocket knife. “Scream all you want, girl. You’re in Gongdan, no one’s gonna come to your rescue.” The man takes the pocket knife, cutting the top of your shirt. Your eyes flutter shut, tears rolling down your cheeks. ‘This can’t be happening… I can’t believe this is happening…’

“Don’t you peons have anything better to do?” A monotone voice speaks behind the men. The group turns around, coming face to face with none other than Yoongi. “Yo, it’s Agust D.” One of the guys holding down your arms whispered. ‘Agust D? Yoongi?’ You opened your eyes, lifting your head to see the raven leaned against the brick wall, his hands in his pockets as he eyed the men.

“Get off her and get the fuck out of here.” He says in a calm, but warning tone. The stoic look on his face unwavered. All the men spared glances with one another, mulling over the threat. The guy with the pocket knife nods, flipping the blade closed before climbing off of you. The men released you, dipping off down the other end of the alley, avoiding Yoongi at all cost. You were surprised they actually listened to him, seeing as there were more of them than there were of Yoongi. He must really strike fear into people’s hearts.

You sit up from the ground, staring down at your ripped shirt in embarrassment. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling. Yoongi approaches your shaken figure, crouching down to your level. You look up at him, and the raven tilts his head slightly. “So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept a ride today?”

You sigh, slowly nodding your head. You didn’t think you could ride back on the bike after this. Yoongi stands up, extending a hand for you to take. You stare at this hand, your mind only thinking about all the blood that’s probably covered it once before. “C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta get back to work, don’t you?”

You hesitantly take his hand, letting the raven pull you up to your feet. “H-how did you know I was back here?” You ask him curiously. “I saw your bike.”

‘Yeah right, you were following me…’

With your hand still in his, Yoongi leads you to his black Nissan Sentra. He opens the passenger door for you, and you climb in. The raven rounds the other side of the car, grabbing your bike from the bike lane. He opens the back door, adjusting his seats so he could fit the bike in. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.” He mumbles, shutting the back door.

He finally climbs into the driver’s seat, slamming his car door close. You sit quietly as the car peels off. “Are you hurt? Did they–”

“Can we just not talk and sit in silence?” You cut him off. As if this jerk really cared about you. It’s his fault you were at the devil’s playground in the first place. The raven nods marginally, sitting in silence per your request. As the two of you kept the peace, your eyes ever so slightly peered over to him. “You know,” you started. “This is all your fault,” Yoongi smiles as though he knew you weren’t going to keep quiet. That just didn’t seem like your style. “If you hadn’t called me down here again, I wouldn’t have been assaulted.”

“So much for silence.” He chuckled.

“You think because you're a self proclaimed bad boy, with a horrific rep, and a cute smile that girls are supposed to fall at your feet. Well, I refuse to be one of them, okay? So, give it up.” The raven now has his eyes on you, a grin on his face as if he enjoyed your little outburst. “You done now, sweetheart? Did you get it all off your chest?” You huffed, looking out of the window. “Good.” The car goes mute again, and you gently bite down on your bottom lip. You wanted to ask the raven questions that had been on your mind since you met him, but you were afraid of his reaction. You decide to take the risk anyway, considering your circumstances.

“Is it true what people say about you?”

Yoongi quirks a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, princess. People say a lot of things about me.” You look away from the window, facing the man of many names. “Have you… killed people before?” You watch Yoongi’s facial expression change; it’s serious, dark. “If I’ve killed people do you really think I’d tell you?”

You shrug. “Probably not, but If you haven’t it would be a simple no.” The raven looks over at you, his eyes boring into yours. “No. I haven’t.”

One would feel relieved upon hearing that, but for some reason you didn’t quite believe him. Not with the way people seemed to stop breathing at his very presence.

Yoongi pulls up in front of Makoto, getting out of the car first to wedge your bike from his backseat. You open your door, following suit as you move around the car to take the bike from the raven. He closes the car door, leaning his back against it. The two of you stand in silence for a moment before you let out a deep sigh. “Thanks… for getting those guys off of me. Even though it’s your fault.” You mutter the last sentence. Yoongi smiles. “Don’t mention it, Princess. Maybe you can thank me in another way sometime.”

He pushes himself off of the car, pulling open his driver’s door. “You got something wrong about me yesterday in your little autobiography,” Yoongi stops, raising an eyebrow at you. “Jungkook isn’t my boyfriend. Yet.” You inform him. The raven hums. “Noted. That makes this even easier.”

“Easier?” You deride. “You really think you have a chance with me, don’t you?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think I do, I know I do. You called my smile cute, remember? Pretty sure I’ve already got you.” He flashes a cocky smile your way before climbing into his car. The raven looks at you one last time before driving away, and you watch as the car flies down the road, disappearing from your sight.

Taglist

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shaylixie · 10 months

Text

Going Home

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Requested: No.

Part 2

Summary: Chan and Y/n get into a fight, causing one of them to leave.

Warnings / Contains: Language; toxic behaviour.

A/N: The way I write this shit but I'd never act like this irl lmao...I'd like to believe I'd be a lot healthier about it but hey, do it for the angst amirite? Enjoy! 💗

You come home and take your shoes off at the door of your apartment, feeling defeated after yet another shitty day at work. The past month has been hell - work has been so hectic and insane and you barely got a breather. To make things worse, Chan was having his own struggles too, and you hardly had time for each other...which you thought would have made the little time you spent together more special, but it just felt strained. It was getting late, and you desperately needed a hot bath and a meal. The first proper one of the day - that muffin from the morning did a good job sustaining you, but you really really needed something more.

You walked in to the kitchen to find Chan sitting at the table with takeout - God, you completely forgot.

"Channie, hi. Fuck! I'm so sorry, baby. Work finished later than planned and I completely forgot and...are you mad?"

He gave you a tight smile. "It's okay, y/n. I know how things are. The food is cold now though...we should warm it up."

You sighed and sat down at the table. "I feel like shit, Chan. I really am sorry. Why didn't you eat without me?"

"You know I'd never do that," Chan says. "Hey, you're here now. Let's just eat, okay?"

You have a feeling he's trying to appear less hurt than he is, but you dish out the food anyway for both of you and heat it up. You eat together in silence, trying to ignore the slight tension in the air. Afterwards, you get up to wash the dishes and Chan finally speaks up.

"How was your day?"

You can tell he's trying to ignore the tension in the room and move past it, so you do your best to do the same, while remaining as honest as possible.

You sigh. "It was shit. Again."

"I'm sorry," Chan replies.

"It's okay. Not your fault. Anyway. I'm gonna go shower, okay?"

He clears his throat. "Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything."

You kiss his cheek and make your way to the bathroom.

When you get into bed, Chan is turned the other way, already asleep...or so you think. You switch the bedside light off and turn to sleep too. It's silent for a while until Chan turns over and runs a hand down your side, stopping at your hip. He presses against you then, and you feel exactly why he's still awake. But after the shitty day - no, month - that you've had, you just don't have it in you. You ignore it, and act like you're asleep. Maybe not the healthiest move, but you're too exhausted to think about it too much.

"Baby?" Chan whispers. "You awake?"

"No," you reply.

He sighs then and flops onto his back, letting out a sigh of defeat. After a few moments, he shakes your arm and then turns to put his bedside light on.

"Y/n, can we talk?" he asks, tone firmer than usual.

"Can it wait?"

"No, no I don't think it can."

You sit up then.

"What going on with us?" he finally asks after weeks of wondering.

"What do you mean?" you ask, knowing but wanting him to elaborate more.

"You mean you haven't noticed? God, we haven't talked in ages. I mean a real conversation. Everything always feels like a string is about to snap...the constant tension...I can't stand it. I don't even know what's happening." It's as though a valve opened, and now everything is pouring out. "Look...you're busy, I get that. But I am too - yet I'm trying, y/n. It feels like you aren't. You come home late. You never come by me anymore...not to the studio, not to my place. It's been what, a month? Maybe more? It feels like more. We don't talk, we don't touch...when's the last time we even had sex? It's like you don't want to even touch me anymore. I don't know if I did something but I don't know what to do anymore. I'm trying...and it feels...it feels like you aren't. Like you haven't been for a while."

He waits for your response, and you feel tears pricking the back of your eyes. Which makes you frustrated...which makes you angry.

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Chris?!"

He's taken aback by your sudden burst of anger.

"I'm tired. Okay? I'm fucking exhausted. I-I don't even know what to do myself. I barely sleep. Or eat. I'm stressed all the time. I feel like I don't even have time for myself let alone you and now what, it's my fault? Fuck this."

You get up from bed and leave the room. Chan sits for a while in stunned silence. What just happened? Fuck it, he's pissed too now.

He follows after you. "Really, y/n? You're gonna take this shit out on me? I'm trying to help us - get us out of whatever the fuck you got us into - and you what, just explode on me? I'm trying to fix us!"

"And what if you can't, Chris?! What if this can't be fixed?"

He looks at you like you just cussed him in 3 different languages. "You really think that?"

"Fucking maybe!"

He laughs a humourless laugh and then shakes his head at you.

"That's all I needed to hear. Fuck this."

He grabs his keys and slips on his shoes, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the dark flat, the tears finally falling down your cheeks.

It's been hours and you still can't sleep. You sob thinking about your fight with Chan; about what you said; what you insinuated. Was it really beyond fixing? You think about what Chan said. He's right...you haven't been making time for him. You haven't spoken the way you used to in what feels like a while. You haven't touched each other lovingly or sexually in a minute and you've ignored his every advance. And he had been trying...Chan was just as stressed out. His deadlines were all coming up and he was suffering with writer's block and he had an appearance soon and the Kids were behind and and and. Yet he still made time for you. Even if it was small. He still came to your place almost every night, even if it was after you fell asleep. He still made sure you ate and he checked in when he could and he always tried to act like things were okay, even if they weren't. He never wanted to add onto your stress. God. You were a dick. You don't deserve him, you think, crying harder. And the cherry on top? In a few days, you'll finally have a break. So much for that now.

It's been 3 heartaching days since the fight with Chan. You haven't spoken in that time, but you can't say it's his fault. The day after, neither of you spoke. The next day, he sent you a message. "Can we talk?" You ignored it. He called that same night, but you declined. He got the message. The third day, he called 4 times. You ignored all the calls. You knew what you had to do.

At 4am that morning, you woke up and started getting ready. You got out of the shower and dressed, hair still wet, when you heard urgent knocking at your door. You opened it, only to see Chan - bags under his slightly red, puffy eyes and hair dishevelled. Your own face probably looked the same.

"Y/n, can we talk? Please?" He paused as if finally noticing you were dressed and your hair was wet. "Where are you going?"

You sighed. "Home," you said in a small voice.

Chan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But you're already home?"

You looked down, and then back at him.

"I mean home Chan...as in South Africa. I'm going back."

He stopped breathing. "What?"

"This isn't working out, Chan. I don't...I don't deserve you. My flight is in 2 hours. I need to get to the airport now. I'll be gone for a while but I have to come back to decide what happens next. Maybe we can talk then."

You move to close the door on him, but he stops you.

"What- You're ending things?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "Didn't that happen 3 days ago?"

"Y/n, no. It was just a stupid fight! It doesn't mean anything. Don't do this, please. We can work things out. Cancel the flight. Please. Baby...please."

You feel your eyes sting with fresh tears, and you turn to walk to your bedroom to get your things, knowing that trying to get Chan to leave is useless. As you suspected, he follows you and stands behind you as you go to grab a jacket, ignoring your wet hair now. No point drying it while he's here...you had to get out as soon as possible. You go to grab your suitcases, trying painfully hard not to look at Chan whose face is streaked with tears too. You deposit the suitcases at your front door and slip on your shoes, making sure you have everything. Chan watches you do all this, still in shock, as though he doesn't believe any of it is real...like it's just one big nightmare.

"You have to go now, Chan," you sigh. "Or at least, I have to. I can't miss this flight. I'll see you around."

You turn to walk out the door but you stop when you feel his hands wrap around your calves. Looking down, Chan is on his knees, the same way he's been so many times before for you, but so so different now.

"Please," he croaks. He's sobbing now, and he drops his head against your leg. "I'll do anything. Please just don't go. You want me to beg? I'll beg! Please, y/n. I'll make things right...I'll fix this. I'll fix us. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fuck things up between us...I'm so so sorry, baby. I love you so much...please, please...please, baby. Please."

You're sobbing too now. You kneel down, facing him, and take his face in your hands, wiping his tears. In between shuddering breaths, you say, "That's the thing, Chan. You don't have to fix anything. You weren't the one that broke it...that was all me. I don't deserve you, Channie. Maybe I did once, but not anymore. You deserve someone better." You cry harder at the thought of him with someone else. Composing yourself enough to talk, you add, "You deserve someone who can love you where I failed to...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." You kiss his forehead.

"That's bullshit, y/n! I know you love me. And it's enough! It's enough for me. Look, a lot of shit has just been happening to us but we can fix it. Okay? Just give us a chance. Fuck anyone else - I don't want anyone else. I want YOU! You're all I've ever wanted and I'll never-" He breaks down sobbing again. "I'll never want anyone besides you. You hear me? Stay. Stay for me, baby. Please."

You both break down even more then, foreheads against each other. You stay like that for a while before you glimpse the time. You still had to drive to the airport and check in your luggage and board and-. You had to leave. You move to stand, pulling Chan up with you. You hug him, and eventually force yourself to let go.

"If it's meant to be...it'll be. Yeah?" you say.

Chan just sniffs in response, fresh tears brewing.

"I'll see you when I get back and then...well, we can see from there. Okay?"

"So it's not over?" he asks.

You kiss his cheek and hand him your key. "Lock up for me?"

You grab your suitcases and make your way to the car, leaving a heartbroken, devastated Chan behind.

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sugar-plum-writer · 3 months

Text

Dark Glamour

Paring: Sukuna x Fem!reader Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!]; Modern AU; Mafia!AU

A chapter by chapter series, It will be a bit long maybe 10 chapters. So~ enjoy~

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CHAPTER - 1

The evaporated city from the map stood deary, with only its rubbles remaining, broken concrete foundation- cracks gracing it with iron rods threatening to crash underneath the pressure.

Shockwaves of the fight remained wherever your eyes could fall upon, swirling winds carrying fear and the scent of blood fluttering around you. Brains oozing out- crying to you about the injustice and pain inflicted on them, bones crushed to dust blowing past your face as a reminder of what you weren't able to stop

The grey sky looked down nihilistically as if used to death and destruction, not a ray of sun graced the Earth and covered itself with clouds as if not wanting to see this nightmarish Earth, crimson ink swirled beneath the watery rivers and lakes with the Earth trapping the dead forever in it's soil.

"Shit. Oh shit. things were not supposed to be like this" you muttered as your heels clacked against the ground, in a hurry all you wore was your bathrobe around you.

You left for just some minutes and the next thing you know your assistant slams the doors of your bathroom open screaming in horror as blood trickled down his face

"Miss Y/N! Boss has started a massacre!"

"What!? How!?-" Adrenaline coursed through your veins spilling into your guts

"I just left him for 2 minutes to take a shower!?"

"Miss-"

"Forget it-" Stepping out from the tub water droplets glistened on your skin dripping from your fingertips

"For now focus on saving as many civilians as possible! use all our resources!" screaming you wore the red stilettos you had removed- almost tripping in a hurry donning your bathrobe

"I will find him!"

"But-"

"Just do as I say if you don't-", glaring at him, "want to die"

Shit this was the biggest mess of your life

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

You had met Sukuna on one fine night as you walked home from work drunk. Feet bruised from walking in heels the whole day, it did not help your boss had to have a drinking party today making everyone drunk. Somehow you managed to escape halfway through and saved your sobbing liver.

"Malevolent Shrine" a deep voice echoed

Raising your head the next thing you knew- you were standing on ink-like black waters, blood red sky, and a shrine- no it could not even be called a shrine- skulls of dead adorned it

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Bow"

Your eyes met his, and looking into those red eyes felt as if- you were looking into the eyes of a demon; a monster so terrifying your legs gave out

"Who-Who are you!? what do you want!"

"Me?", amused he looked at you "I am Ryomen Sukuna- The King Of Curses" smirking he gazed down upon you

"Be honored, your screams tonight will grace me" Stepping down in a flash he was in front of you

Fear. Horrible gut-wrenching Fear consumed your heart eating away through the valves.

"Please…don't kill me! Please! I beg you!" sobbing you kneeled on the ground as tears spilled from your eyes

"I have not even gotten married yet! I am too young!.." your mouth ran by itself like a Ferrari on a race track of Formula One, spilling out essay after essay

"I have not even-"

"Shut up brat, how long is your list of things you need to do? I will kill you if you don't shut up"

"No! No! No! I will shut up!" clasping your hands over your lips you looked at him but your mouth just had to continue, "But how can I not!? There are so many things to do in this world!"

"I said shut up" giving you a death glare he grabbed your jaw

"As for things to do, I doubt your modern world could amuse me"

"Wh-? How old are you?" eyes widening you looked at him

"1000+ years old, why?" confused he looked at you

"What….? And you still have that style?" raising an eyebrow you looked him up and down

"I don't mean to be offensive, but seriously…?"

"Why should I care how I look?" throwing you to the ground he rolled his eyes

"Ouch!", hissing in pain you looked at him, "Because, see for example if you want to recruit people into your group, shouldn't you look good? Looking hot while doing it?"

"What-? What psychology is this?"

"Yeah duh" Putting your arm around his shoulder you looked at him

"You are wasting that face plus knowing about modern technology will help will it not? For example with this phone-" Opening your phone you handed it to him, "You can text, call, etc, isn't it so much better?"

He scrolled a bit as you continued your explanation about modern technologies, the power of money, and so on. Showing him all kinds of things on your phone, all kinds of luxuries, working in the sales department sure came in handy today.

"Hmmm…", intrigued he listened and filtered through the bullshit that came from your mouth. Though he was 1000+ years old he sure was extremely terrifyingly intelligent, the way he filtered through the information grasping the core information shocked even you.

"Fine" tossing the phone to you, "You seem to know a lot of how things work around here" Looking into your soul chillingly, "Work for me, and let's do this so-called style change"

And like that soon you were out, alone on the streets, the realization hit you like a nuclear bomb

FUCK

Biting your lips you walked groaning, sure in a moment of panic your brain switched a circuit and bullshitted its way out. Somehow convincing The King of Curses to go shopping with you. You deserve a PR and Sales award for what you have just done. Sure you were good at what you did, turning thousands of yen product into millions but today, you saved your neck.

With a sharp sigh, you unlocked the door of your apartment.

"This is crazy AHHHHH!" screaming you buried your face in the pillow trying to convince yourself it was a dream

But it was not

Proof?

Right now you are standing in a short black sweetheart body con dress, high stilettos, red lipstick, hair all curled up scrolling through your phone, normally when you dress up many creeps give you stares but today nobody; why?

Sukuna stood beside you.

Link to masterlist!

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glitch-after-dark · 19 days

Text

I have been introduced to the concept of Mirage/Swerve, and now it will not leave me alone.

WARNING: dubious consent (slightly), though I am picturing Swerve being very willing for the acts themselves, just not aware it is Mirage.

Mirage uses his ability because he can be a little petty to poke at Swerve as a joke because Swerve had been crowing about Visages having to be temporarily closed.

Swerve is believed by some, but Mirage is very careful not to get caught and makes himself an alibi and cover looking like he's somewhere else during the hauntings.

It's a bit of stress relief, and Mirage is a tiny bit of a sadist and Swerve is very cute when startled. And then one day he just clicks his tongue at Swerve's experimental drinks and tries one and cleans it up because Mirage is anxious about something and accidentally trained himself to find Swerve a stress relief either at the bar after close while Swerve is cleaning up or in his room.

Now, Swerve is convinced he's somehow appeased the ghost. So he names the new drink after him (the ghost) and makes one for him when he spots him at the bar/in his room. This, of course, evolves into Swerve, talking to his ghost. Or turning on movies and Mirage deciding to linger and stay alerting Swerve, he was still there by moving something, or more often, touching him with light petting, which makes Swerve shiver and squirm but continue.

And, oh no, now Mirage is getting attached a little possessive, who gets hit on but doesn't catch it, and Mirage bristles at the sight. Mirage impulsively corners and kisses him after close, and things escalate from there. Until Mirage can not resist touching Swerve, who squirms and doesn't complain as kisses evolve into petting and one day exhibitionism with Mirage sucking Swerve's spike during a shift behind the bar and then another time eating out his valve under a table and shoving his own spike down Swerve's mouth in his hab suite.

It all escalates to Mirage full on fucking him whenever he wants. The storage unit at Swerve's, the public showers with Swerve pressed to the ground by someone invisible, waking him up in the morning to Mirage sinking into him after pinning him down, no need to worry about a roommate.

The entire time Swerve doesn't know who his ghost is, just being absolutely railed and bullied or pinned in worship on different days depending on if he'd made a snide comment about Mirage one day or had a rough day and felt insecure the next. Mirage is very adaptable, and Swerve is adorable no matter what.

And oops, Mirage has feelings for Swerve. Who wouldn't give him (Mirage) the time of day but who told him (the Ghost) that he's his best friend.

#valveplug #mirage the ghost #mtmte swerve #mtmte mirage #dubcon due to secret identity

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paristheonewhoreads · 3 months

Text

Cowboy and the Tigress

Chapter three 🌷☁️ 4.9k words

Warnings: torture. Heavy mentions of blood, and cutting. Physical pain is inflicted on character. A bit of a whirlwind or emotions. If I’m missing any tw please let me know. <3

Spring 2023, Central Boston QZ

It’s staring to get warmer. Either that or you’re just too hot. The trip down to central Boston took two days and one night. Hank was right, whole place is crawling with FEDRA soldiers. Apparently, the reason for this was the fact that rations had been lower than they’d been in years and they needed to reinforce their man power just in case people start to riot. That and the fact the fireflies had started to make quite the spectacle themselves. And it’s been far from just a pretty light show.

Arriving to the apartment you’ve got down here isn’t at all pleasant. It does however, conveniently happen to be close to the underground tunnels. You’ve started asking around for more information on Robert, apparently you’re not the only one the fuckers been nagging.

Setting down your bag on the old bed you’ve got, you start to look around the apartment. You’ve stashed quite the bit of goods all over this place. A hole behind the swan painting in the living room. That has a whole box full of ration cards, along with some fake documentation of your identification cards.

Another in the loose boards of the ceiling above the toilet, and two more under the floorboards. One in the bedroom closet and the other under the couch. All of which containing even more ration cards, all collected through the years, along with a couple of small hand guns and ammunition.

Once you check and confirm that everything is where it should be, you decide to take a much needed shower. You reek of blood from infected you’d had to kill on your way here, alongside dirt and sweat that’s accumulated on your body. This part of Boston, unlike the other you’ve made a home of, doesn’t have the peasantry of hot water, or much if any electricity.

You step into the cold water, your body tensing at first but inevitably adjusting to it and relatively relaxing itself into its harsh fridgedness. You let it run down your back and soak your hair, then begin to wash away all the filth. At first the water that goes down the drain is absolutely disgusting. A terrible color of swamp water is the best you can describe it.

Eventually however, once the water is just as clear as when coming out of the shower head, and your hair has been washed twice and conditioned, body free of any grime, do you finally turn the valve off and step out.

The cold draft in the otherwise empty apartment doesn’t help warm you up with the fresh cold water still beading down your skin. Yanking your towel off the hook on the door you wrap yourself up.

Taking a look in the mirror, you see yourself for the first time in what must be weeks. You look paler than usual, probably due to the winter. Your cheeks still hold their fullness. Curious, you let the towel fall from your form.

It’s been forever since you’ve looked at your body. You do a lot to keep it fit although not necessarily purposefully. All the walking, running, sometimes even climbing and swimming do you a favor in keeping a pleasurable figure. Sometimes you don’t feel as feminine as you would like, but in a world like this, with the line of work you’re in, that’s the least of your worries.

You brush your hair and lotion yourself up, finally settling in as you dress in some clean comfortable clothes. One of Hanks old hoodies and a pair of old shorts you’ve had for ages. Sitting yourself on old worn out couch, you gaze at nothing in particular.

You miss Ellie. Thinking back to how sad she sounded when you’d said your goodbyes before leaving, tugged at your heart strings. It feels selfish, and perhaps you were, for even coming on this trip. All because of the fact that you wanted to show this asshole who the fuck he was messing with.

You’d make it up to her, you decide. You’ll get her the book she wanted and maybe a couple other trinkets you can find. Bring a hand up to your neck you feel your locket. It had belonged to your mother once. You’d taken it from her as she lay dead in the floor of your living room as something to remember her by. That was a long time ago.

Now, in present time, it holds a picture of Ellie and yourself. It’s a fond memory frozen in time by the photograph. You remember it to the ‘T’. It’d been the first christmas after a year of getting into the business your so indulged in now. You’d worked your ass off for a year and it had paid off.

You were able to get Ellie actual presents for the first time. She was 10 at the time, she’d been so ecstatic when she saw an actual tree with lights on it and presents all wrapped up under it. The sound of her laughter and excitement fills your ears as you reminisce.

Smiling at the photo inside the small locket you start to drift into sleep. A much needed rest after your journey here, and for what’s to come.

You’re awoken by knocking at the door. The sun was setting, practically gone behind the horizon. Sky becoming dark and cold without its warmth. You get up from the couch, grabbing the hand gun on the small side table besides you. Second nature at this point really.

Walking towards the door you peer through the peephole and see that it’s Amy. A dear friend, Hank must’ve let her know you’d be coming. You hurriedly open the door, smile wide and bright on your face.

Once the door opens and she sees you she too smiles brightly at you. “Hello you.” She says in a terrible British accent. It’d become your own little greeting between the two of you. Putting the gun in the waistband of your shorts you open your arms and embrace her. “Hello you.” You say back in a just as terrible British accent.

She giggles at your impression, and tightens her arms around you. Both of you stay in this embrace for about a minute until you break away, taking her in you feel relieved that she seems healthy.

“Here, come in.” You tell her and she walked past you into the living room as you look down the hallway, double checking to see if anyone else is around, before going back inside yourself.

“Well I see you’ve settled in. I was supposed to stop by earlier but I thought you’d probably just want to settle in by yourself.” She chatters, taking a seat on couch you’d just been napping on prior. You hadn’t noticed she’d had a plastic bag with her until she starts to take tupperware out and places it on the coffee table. “I also thought that maybe you’d be hungry. It’s quite the trip from all the way over there to here.”

“Lucky for you I am actually starving.” You laugh softly. Walking into the kitchen real quick you get both of you plates and some glasses along with a bottle of old wine you’d had stored away god knows how long ago. Trailing back into the living room you see her starting to open the containers.

“How’d you even know I was here?” You ask, while sitting down beside her and passing her her plate and glass. “Hank gave me a heads up last night that’d you’d be here, and I obviously wasn’t about to pass the opportunity of seeing you up.” She shrugged. You hum in acknowledgment and open the bottle of wine, pouring her a glass and yourself one.

Taking a sip from her glass, “God that’s good, haven’t had wine in who knows how long.” She jokes, and begins to serve you a plate and then herself. “This smells so good, when did you make this?” you’ve stuffed some of the baked potatoes she’s made along with some chicken and veggies.

“About an hour ago, that’s why I was late.” She says sheepishly, but you shake your head and continue to chew “mmm don’t be sorry, this is apology enough.” You say through a full mouth while pointing at your plate with your fork.

You both talk and catch up on what is is you’ve been up too. She tells you how she’s met a girl, and that they’ve been dating for about 10 months. “She’s so sweet and caring. At first I was nervous, she’s the first girl I’ve been with so, it’s all kind of new in a way. But refreshing for sure.” You’re happy for her, and tell her about how your still as single as ever. She jokes that it’ll take either another apocalypse for you to find someone or that you’ll probably end up like Hank, old and with absolutely no love life.

She asked about Ellie, to which you inform her of how she’s back home, probably giving Hank a run for his money, poor thing. The good, and the bad. Both of you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Well into the hours of the night. Once both of your bellies are full and your empty plates are left abandoned on the table, you begin to get into serious conversation.

“So,” she begins, “Hank told me you’re here because some dickhead has been taking from trades?” Quirking a brow and taking a sip of her wine. You hum and let out an exasperated sigh, “yeah, son of a bitch has been crossing me for a couple months now. Had to come down here to deal with it.” You shrug

Amy nods in understanding “well if there’s anyone who knows what he’s in for it’s anybody but him. God knows people on your bad side don’t tend to have the best time.” She laughs. “Or the longest time either” you add, laughing yourself.

She makes a noise once she remembers something, and starts digging trough her bag again and pulls out a file, you sit up at this. “Hank told me to give this too you, said it have pretty much everything you need to know about your guy.” Handing it over to you you grab it and open it up to look through it.

As you’re reading, it has everything there is to know about him. His age, who he associates with, who he’s been seen talking to within this past week. The trades he’s been making on his own accord, and the amount of supplies he’s been taking from yours. It’s mostly been pills, and a couple crates of guns and ammunition.

Amy looks over your shoulder and rests her head on it. She sees the photo of Robert and picked it up from the file. “This him?” She asks, you nods you head. Humming, “He’s kind of cute. Maybe you can enemies to lovers your way with him.” She jokes.

You face become one of pure and utter revulsion “There is actually no way you just said that.” you deadpan. She lets out a giggle before looking at the photo again. Shrugging, “Eh, your right, his eyes are too far apart.” she notices, before tossing the photo back onto the pile of papers in the file.

She stands up from the couch “Well, it's getting late, I'll leave you too it.”. You look up from the paperwork and quickly close the file, getting up aswell and following her as she walks toward the door. “Thank you for coming over, and for feeding me.” you smile and hug her and she returns the gesture.

“Of course, anytime. Make sure to save the left overs for tomorrow so you can at least have breakfast.” you nod and open the door for her. “I will,” you smile “and be careful, try to get home quickly.” There's a final hug between the two of you, before she's walking down the hall, you wait until she's out of sight before turning back into the apartment and locking up.

You walk back to the living room and sit back down. The file says that Robert will be at a warehouse in two days. That's where you'll find him. Two days. You could work with that. More time for you to find Ellie’s books and other things. After storing the food back into the tupperware and putting the dishes in the sink you go back to bed. Two days. You’d wait till then.

During said days, you do indeed end up getting Ellie a spiderman comic, along with some space pins so she could add to her backpack that you think she’ll like. Once it’s about 11am you head out with a group of men to where Robert is hiding. Hank had set it up to where their only job was to get you to Robert and you’d take care of the rest.

After making sure to avoid FEDRA within the city you take a route to the outside where you make your way to the warehouse. This place is riddled with men. Men that don’t know they’re getting paid nothing to risk their lives for this prick.

On the top floor of a building not too far away you stand with the group of men that have come along. It’s only four of them plus yourself. “My guy says that Robert is in the very back of this quadrant.” You explain as they all get ready to head out. “That means we’re going to have to make our way across the yard. Try to refrain from shooting. Last thing I need is letting this guy know we’re coming. Everyone and anyone that gets in your way is to be terminated. You guys get me to Robert and I will make sure you all receive twice the amount of what we agreed on. We clear?” a chorus of ‘yes ma’am’s’ go around and you nod once before you’re making your way out.

As you all make your way building by building, room by room, you eventually make it to an office. It’s empty, but by the documents scattered on tables along with a useless car battery and an ashtray you know this is his office. You decide to wait until his return. Making sure there’s two men posted by the door to tackle him once the bastard steps in. The other two stay by the desk while you sit in his desk chair and make yourself comfortable.

You’re mindlessly reading through some documents until rapid footsteps reach the door. You send a look towards the man by the door as you sit up and he nods. As soon as the door bursts open Robert comes stumbling in until he’s landed face first onto the floor.

Your men by the door yank him up by his arms as he thrashes against them. “Who the fuck do you- let me go! You Fuck faces have any idea who you’re-“ he goes dead still once he meets your gaze. “Oh shit.” you hear him mutter to himself.

“Hey-tiy-I’m ma’am I- what-“ he stuttered “That name,” you get up from his chair and make your way to where they’re holding him. You not to one of them, and they kick the back of his knees so that he’s kneeling. “are for those whom I trust. You are no man I trust.” You say calmly. You were never one to immediately shout or scream when making a point. You’ve found over the years that this tends to unnerve people much more.

“I’ve heard you’ve been making quite the deals here recently.” You say, looking around the room. You smile “It’s quite the place you’ve got here.”

“Tiy-“ he starts, but you’re quick to reprimand him. “DONT” your voice thunders through the doom accompanied by a loud crack of skin to skin. The back of your hand stings, but you can only imagine what his cheek must feel like.

You’ve busted his lip, you notice. As blood begins to dribble from the open cut. He looks at you with a pure furry. You take a breath. “You know, I could have made this so much more easier. I could have just sent someone down here to kill you without having get my hands dirty,” You shake you head to yourself, “but no. I wanted to hear what excuses a dumb fuck like you could possibly come up with.” you snicker.

Before he can open his mouth you speak “tie him to the chair” is all you say. “NO! Wait ti- MA’AM hey! Please man c’mon-“ he’s cut off by one of the men growing a punch at him to which it gives them a chance to man handle him into the chair. They go at him, throwing punch after punch. Some to his face, others towards his stomach. It isn’t until he’s hunched over, blood dripping from his open mouth, and his face swollen and bruised that you finally tell them it’s enough.

“Everyone out,” you turn to the men “stay by the door. Kill anyone who gets close.” You shrug off your jacket. This going to get messy. You think to yourself.

Pulling up another chair in front of Robert you sit while snapping your fingers in front of his face. “C’mon now baby don’t go all delirious on me yet.” you fake pout. “Fun hasn’t even started yet.”

He looks up to you, eyes fuzzy. “Now, why on earth out of all the people you could’ve fucked with, did you decide I would be your best option?” you question him again once you don’t get an immediate answer “hm?” You tilt your head. No answer again.

“Christ, and here I thought you’d make this easy for yourself.” you sigh. Grabbing an extra rope you wrap it tightly around your knuckles. Before grabbing the other end and walking around him quickly, the rope constricting his air way as you tug back harder, making him gasp.

It takes everything in you not to just snap his neck and be done with it, go home, and go see your girl. But no, you want him to pay. Once he starts thrashing against the ropes holding him to the chair you let the one around his neck loosen. He gasps for air and coughs, greedily sucking in air. His face is red, even slightly purple now.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” you wait patiently. He eventually stops coughing and looks at you, “I-I didn’t think you’d notice. Look-I’m sorry okay- I- I’ll pay back everything I owe you I swear it. I-“ you click your tongue and shake your head.

“See, now if I did believe you which I don’t. It still wouldn’t matter whatever lame ultimatum you’d try and offer me. I think we both know you’re not leaving here alive rob.”

“God no- please! I swear it to you. I-I’ll pay it all back ALL OF IT! I SWEAR.”

“For fucks sake..STOP WHINING!” You yell again. This time you take the knife on your belt and slash him across his face. Blood splatters from the wound that’s open from the bottom left of his jaw all the way across to his right temple. He lets out a shout of agony. His blood landing on your clothes from the gash.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug it back harshly. “You and me both know that your not getting out of this one Rob so why don’t you just do us both the favor of making this nice and quick.” you let go of his hair and shove his head back.

“Now, next question is really important for you to answer, okay?,” you ask “and if you don’t answer it, you lose a finger. Deal?” You take the knife and jab it into the middle of his back palm. He grunts in pain and barely nods.

“OK! Okay- fuck- I’ll tell you an-anything.” you give him a smile at that “okay, see? Good. Now, I need to know, who exactly it is you sold off my merchandise to.”

“I-I sold it to a lot of different people. I-I can’t remember everyone- I don’t know-“ he’s cut of my his own blood soaked scream as you pull out the knife from his hand as slice off not one, but two fingers.

“I didn’t like that answer. But it’s okay maybe you didn’t hear me correctly. I asked exactly who did you sell the supplies to. I want a name Rob cmon.” you chastise.

He’s full on sobbing now. Tears running down his face as he chokes on his own breath. “FUCK- I told you I don’t- I don’t know! I-it was multiple. I-I sold some to the-the fireflies- some to random people along the QZ I- I can’t remember their names.”

Him mentioning the fireflies has you perk up. You lean back in the chair your sitting in and hum. “Fireflies? What did you sell to them? Guns? Ammunition?”

“Y-yeah I sold them some ammunition- I-I sold them some guns too but those weren’t yours I swear.” your brows furrow. “Not mine? Who’s guns were they?”

“T-this one lady- s-she gave them to me f-for safe keeping and I sold em” you nod at what he says.

“And the fireflies, they know it was my shit you were selling them?” he shakes his head. “N-No they t-thought it was mine. I-I didn’t tell them it wasn’t my merchandise.”

Sighing, you get up from the chair. Thats enough. You think. As you go to call the men outside there’s gunshots outside. You tense, there’s multiple people, way more than your initial four guys.

Time to go then.

You storm over to Rob and jag his right thigh with your blade, while again yanking his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “When you came in you were running. From what?” You ask through gritted teeth. He starts to wheeze out a laugh and this gets your blood boiling. Grabbing onto the knife you twist it. While you give his hair another hash yank. “FROM WHAT?” You ask again

He grunts out and lets out a breath. More gunshots fire outside and shouting starts. “Those people who’s guns I sold off to the bugs. They ain’t take to lightly to me doing so, they’re looking for the battery, I tried selling it to em” He takes another ragged breath before continuing, making direct eye contact with you, “what? D’you think you were the only bitch that got her feathers ruffled?” He laughed as he finished his sentence. Jesus, he's going crazy.

The shouting and gun fire gets closer to the door. You grit your teeth again and untie the fucker from the chair and yank him up. He can hardly stand. “Get up.” you grit out, showing him towards the back door of the room.

You run and he has to practically be dragged by you. You run through the corridors till you make it to a back door that’s a dead end. You hear voices shouting behind you for rob. You look at him, he’s bloodied, from his face to his hand to his leg. It’s a mystery how he’s still even alive let alone standing.

Deciding that he really doesn’t hold any more value to you and that he’s just dead weight you kick the back of his knee and he tumbles over. You don’t think twice, you don’t flinch, you just aim your gun at him and pull the trigger. Good riddance.

You hear footsteps approaching you as you start to walk away. As you go to turn around the corner of the hallway, you see someone that you haven’t seen in years. Your gazes lock onto each other at the same time. On instinct you reach behind you and pull out your gun, pointing it at- “Marlene?” her name is coming out of your mouth before you could bite your tounge.

In seeing her, you falter for a second. Taking a step back, your eyebrows furrow. How many damn people knew that Robert would be here today of all days. “Well, this is a surprise.” her voice in monotone, sounds as if you being here was anything but a surprise. You start to slowly shake your head to yourself, not believing that she’s standing in front of you.

She takes a scan of you too. Almost as if she’s admiring how much you’ve grown in a way. Like a parent seeing their kid after being away at college for a year. Marlene sighs at you, nods and walks past. You watch her move like a ghost. And in a way she is, a ghost from the past come back to haunt you. “I needed him alive.” She tells the you.

You realize you’re standing there like an idiot, and snap yourself out of it, and stand up straight. “He would have been a waste of time if you were looking to talk to him.” She lets out a breath, before turning back to you. She’s injured, bad. Clutching her side as blood seeps through the thin material of her tank top.

“You look like shit.” you say, taking her in. The bags under her eyes don’t do her appearance any good; her bleeding out also doesn’t help. Marlene laughed through her nose and nods her head in agreement “yeah. You look…grown.” stating the obvious.

“Considering you haven’t seen me since I was 14, yeah, I have fucking grown.” You bite. Her eyes fall to the floor at your jab.Sighing, you move past it and try to make conversation “You still running this shit show?” you ask gesturing to the firefly symbol spray painted on the wall. She meets your gaze again, nodding again. “Yeah, or y’know, at least trying. Whole thing seems to be blowing up in front of my face” She breathlessly chuckles but winces half way through.

You cringe at how more blood seems to be flowing out of her wound. You point your chin at it, “you going to get that fixed up?” she looks down at it and then back up at you with a raised brow, “you offering?”. She can’t be serious.

Scoffing at her for even fathoming you helping her is delusional, “yeah not a fucking chance. I got what I came for,” you pause, “goodbye Marlene.”. You turn around and start to walk away, but she’s quick to take a couple of steps in a weak attempt at following you, “wait.” She rasps out.

You don’t know why you stop. You don’t know why you turn back to face her. But you do, and when you’re fully turned to her you can see the eagerness she has in her eyes. She wants to talk to you. “What?”

She licks her lips, and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, “there’s- there’s something that I need to tell you. It’s about-“ you cut her off “Look, no offense, but talking to you is the last thing I need right now.” with that you turn once again and walk out.

“It’s about your kid.” your head turns harshly to look at her, eyes furrowed, getting defensive “My kid? Is back at home safe. Not that that’s any of your business.” but she just shakes her head. “God you don’t even know.” She mutters, staring down the hallway.

Your eyes narrow at this, “I Don’t know what?” you prod. She sighs, “Your kids not safe. And she sure as hell isn’t home.” the grip on your gun tightens, a wave of unease suddenly flowing through you. Your change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by Marlene, “Now don’t go making any rash decisions.” She slowly puts her hands up.

You ignore her request, “Answer my question. What don’t I know?! What the hell are you talking about? I swear to got if you’ve done something to her I’ll-“ she cuts off your threat, “Woah woah,” she tries to calm you down, as if your a fucking bull ready to charge, “I never said I did anything to your girl. Would you really think I’d stoop that low?” you scoff “Is that even a question?”

Her jaw ticks, “Alright, fine, I deserve that,” “oh you don’t have even the slightest idea of what you deserve.” You spit. “I’m done playing games, tell me what the hell you’ve done with my kid or I shoot.” You ease your gun higher, making your point.

“Your kids with me. I was out on a mission outside the QZ I was going through the abandoned mall, and I heard a commotion. Thought it was infected, and it was, but your kid was also there.” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. Ellie? Outside the QZ? No. It’s can’t be. She- she’s lying, she has to be.

“Alright look I don’t know what type of sick plan you’ve got or how you knew I’d be here but whatever this is your trying to do I-“ “I’ll take you to her.” She cuts in.

She lets out a painful breath, “she's been going crazy trying to get out of here. But she's smart, didn't give me her real name, said it was Veronica. Hasn't really talked either.”

Veronica.

Your mothers name.

“And before you go all mama bear on me, remind yourself that I am currently the only one that knows where she is and that I am also currently bleeding out.”

There’s a pause,

“Take me to her.”

Next Chapter

Chapter three omggg 🙈🙉🙊 This took forever to write and also I don’t even really like it… so I might come back and rewrite this chapter. I’m also working on expanding my vocabulary when writing as I feel sometime it sounds repetitive. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed!! 🫶🏼 again if you have any feedback I’d highly appreciate it! 💗 Thank you for reading 💌

P.s MY 100th POST 🥳🥳🥳

#ellie the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #the cowboy and the tigress

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actual-changeling · 9 months

Text

"Oh, fuck, sorry."

The connector drops with a shattering clang loud enough to echo through their pod, the glass valve inside springing apart on impact and showering her feet in a rain of splinters. In hindsight, working with bare feet is an obvious health hazard, but the sun their current station is orbiting is bringing their cooling systems to their limits, and she'd rather risk a few cuts than overheat. Still, her hands are sweaty, and while this is not the only part that has slipped from her palms so far, it is the first to break.

Cee barely feels the sting of a dozen bloody pinpricks across her skin, too busy sucking in a much needed breath after the last one got stuck in her throat long enough to make her dizzy. She steadies herself against the wall, eyelids fluttering as panic crashes over her in waves, a feeling not as old as she would like it to be, and the internal mantra of not him, not him, not him fades in the light of a new situation. It's not that she is a clumsy person, the opposite, really, yet every small mistake, every slip of hand, every broken glass, or every smoking soldering point had been followed by a gut-wrenching sigh of deep-seated annoyance at best and a bone-chilling surge of words at worst.

Her mind is wandering before she can stop it, memories flickering by like stars, only more horrifying and less beautiful while burning just as bright, and with her vision darkening, the sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder makes her flinch. Glass crunches beneath her soles when her body sways in an attempt to move away, sending pain straight up her leg. The fall she was about to take was only stopped by the very same hand wrapping around her arm.

The collision with Ezra's chest knocks the air out of her as a bitter mixture of anxiety and relief fills her mouth, shame burrowing its way through her skin.

"Sorry, I- sorry."

Catching her breath, her head finds its way to its usual resting place, and she closes her eyes to bury her face fully in his neck.

"Sorry," she mumbles again, her words muffled by his skin, and she isn't even sure what exactly she is apologizing for - dropping the connector or once again flinching away from him.

His arm slips around her back with practiced ease, the pressure of his palm rubbing circles between her shoulder blades not only comforting but gently urging her lungs to relax.

"Nothing to be sorry for, little bird. I should have asked first, I simply meant to prevent you from further injury - not that I was very successful."

The pain fades as tears sting in her eyes instead, and she clamps her jaw shut and grits her teeth to keep them from falling, willing her brain to just shut up. Ezra, she reminds herself, Ezra, not him. Ezra, Ezra, Ezra, his name looping and bouncing around her head, erasing the panic obstructing its path, and she doesn't realize her fingers are clinging to the back of his shirt until her knuckles ache. Cee swallows another bout of tears when he presses a soft kiss to her temple, not loosening his hold but tugging her away from the mess on the floor.

"Come on, birdie, let me fix you up."

#alex writes prospect #prospect 2018 #cee and ezra #ezra and cee #cee prospect #ezra prospect #prospect movie #sharing smth i wrote on discord for my besties #cause they liked it and this fandom is small and we all need the crumbs #if you like tlou I SWEAR you will like prospect #pedro found family father daughter relationship #thats all you need to know #watch prospect and join us in the brainrot

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transingthoseformers · 8 months

Note

RODIMUS (sees GETAWAY on the way outta TYREST's prison): Ah, fuck my ex.

MINIMUS: Excuse me?

RODIMUS: Listen, judge me all you want. The vibes may have been rancid, but the interface was immaculate. And no one plug'n'plays like Spec Ops. Trust me.

MINIMUS (horified): I meant who. I implore you to tell me who. I do not think I can currently handle discovering you sexual escapades have included Tyrest. Or Lockdown. Or Star Saber.

RODIMUS: Don't worry, Mims. I didn't frag this boss.

RODIMUS: Primus though I kind of miss his spike though.

MINIMUS: Please stop telling me things.

RODIMUS: Don't miss the showers though. He always used the hot solvent first. Every. Damn. Time.

GETAWAY (boarding the LL and spotting RODIMUS): Frag.

SKIDS: Getaway?

GETAWAY: It's fragging Hot Rod. Why did no one mention your Captain was Hot Rod?

BRAINSTORM: You know Rodimus?

GETAWAY: Rodi-Ugh, clearly I've missed something. Yes. I know him. Knew him. Primally. Mech can not shut the frag up, but he plays a valve like a Primus damned maestro.

PERCEPTOR (choking): What?!

GETAWAY: Damn near spiritual experience, and he will do anything, I mean anything to make sure you have a good time. You think he's a selfish aft in the berth think again. Fragging transcendental. Hate it. Best overload of my life.

GETAWAY: Hogs the fragging pillows though.

Wait and they were exes before the series

Wait and they were exes

I indeed trust you Roddie, I wouldn't expect anything less out of spec ops

Minimus asking the correct questions, I think it would've made him explode if it was Tyrest

sdfggh not the showers

:3 yes it is Gets yes it is

"Knew him primally" is now one of my new favorite ways to say two characters fucked

These two are absolutely willing to give TMI about their past relationship to everyone

I absolutely love how Getaway is just praising Roddie's skill in bed like. Getaway may be a liar and might hate him but damn he's not about to hold back on this info.

oh getaway

Rodimus does strike me as a pillow hog

#getarod #mtmte rodimus #mtmte getaway #others too #valveplug #probably

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shuacore · 1 year

Text

[ 02:14 ] headstones & landmines

unconditional love and support were the two main tenets of your relationship with wonwoo. you were the main breadwinner between the two of you, and wonwoo was perfectly happy taking a backseat to let you shine.

every big promotion from your job was a celebration for the both of you. when you were hired for your dream job, wonwoo took you out to dinner at some big, fancy restaurant. when you got promoted to a higher position, the two of you had spent the entire afternoon locked in the bedroom. (and the bathroom. and the kitchen.)

but then you got a new job offer, unexpected. it was an even higher position, with more authority and more opportunities for growth.

the only downside was that it was on the other side of the country, away from your family and your friends and your boyfriend.

chaos and carpet. a study in scarlet.

your worst nightmare had finally arrived—having to move on from the life you had known for so long to something completely and utterly new.

it was terrifying.

you vaguely note standing in the doorway to the bedroom, holding a large cardboard box in your hands, feeling numbness seep down your spine like the cold foreboding hand of age had already come to claim you for its own.

but then there’s a warmer hand on the small of your back, jump-starting you from your trance.

it’s wonwoo, holding one of your old stuffed animals with a fond little smile on his face. but then he sees the blankness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and sets it on the nightstand, running his hand up and down your spine.

“hey? what’s wrong?” he asks, voice soft. you sit on the edge of the bed, sighing as you sag into his shoulder.

“i’m so fucking scared, wonwoo,” you whisper, and your words hang in the air. heavy. weighted by hundreds of other things unsaid.

wonwoo doesn’t respond, he just kisses the crown of your head. i know. me too, he seems to say.

that’s enough, for now.

the room doesn’t talk. and the furniture nods as i pass.

packing turned out to be a nightmare. the times you weren’t busy at work, you were tucked away in a corner of your apartment busy crying.

you had found a photo of you and wonwoo from the early days, when your eyes were so full of excitement and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. wonwoo looks mostly the same, maybe a little less thin and with a few more lines on his face, but he’s as familiar as you remember.

by the time he had asked you to move in, you were already perpetually stationed at his place. but both of you had wanted to have a fresh start; a place you could both call your own.

the apartment you rented was uptown, just a block away from the subway stop. sometimes you’d hear fighting in the alleyway and ambiguous bangs that were totally fireworks, right? those were fireworks. you lived above a bodega that had the best breakfast sandwiches on thursdays if you were lucky enough to beat the morning rush.

the sink in the kitchen only got hot water if the dishwasher was running. the shower head leaked unless you cranked the valve all the way to left, so hard you had to use all your strength to turn it back on. the front door had to be opened by jiggling the knob and giving the left corner a firm kick.

it was old. it was janky and lived-in and every appliance was on the brink of breaking, but you had learned to see the charm because it was filled with everything that defined your twenties, and it was yours, and it was wonwoo’s, and it was home.

heights marked in pencil. kitchen utensils.

you had gotten used to seeing wonwoo perched in the corner of the living room, a steaming cup of coffee on the side table next to him. he tucks his feet neatly under his legs when he reads, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose every couple minutes. he likes coffee to be poured scalding hot, but waits for it to be room-temp before he drinks it often because he’s too engrossed in his book to remember it’s there.

you loved to drape yourself over his shoulders and kiss the part of his skin that stretched over the junction between his throat and collarbones. it usually elicited a small little sigh from him, a sound that came from his chest like it was unintentional.

“what are you reading?” you’d ask, tucking your chin over his shoulder. sometimes he’d loop an arm around the back of your neck and play with the hair there, absentminded. like everything else, he was too busy reading his book to answer coherently.

“it’s a political commentary. vernon recommended it. he wants to…,” wonwoo would start, but he’d always lose his train of thought, sucked back into his little literary world.

you just kissed him on the cheek and refilled his mug until it steamed again.

the books don’t say sorry, they don’t crowd and touch.

lately you seem to be sighing more and more. you tuck the last of your things into a box, closing the flaps and tape it shut. it’s hard to feel excited about this new chapter of your life when everything else feels like a sentencing.

with yet another sigh, you stand, stretching deeply before padding into the living room to find your partner.

wonwoo sits in the chair by the window, like usual, but his legs are spread, feet planted on the floor, his head in his hands. at first you wonder if he’s deep in thought, but then you see a subtle shake of his shoulders and a stifled hiccup and you realize… he’s crying.

two days before you moved out.

the question descended over the apartment, dark and foreboding, every time the two of you spoke: what does this mean for us?

you loved wonwoo far too much to ask him to uproot everything he had worked for. even though the thought of waking up to an empty bed every day killed you inside, you couldn’t stand the thought of wonwoo possibly resenting you for making him leave everything he knew.

wonwoo loved you too much to ask you to stay.

that left two options. long-distance, or the one neither of you could even mention.

neither of you had really made a decision, skirting around the truth for days until your departure was no longer ignorable.

you softly approach your boyfriend, laying your hand on his back, voice stuck in your throat. wonwoo reaches up, dragging your hand to his cheek where you feel the wetness of tears on his skin. he holds your hand to his face, pressing his mouth to your palm.

without a word, you sink to the floor, taking wonwoo’s hands in your own and pressing his knuckles to your lips. his hands are cold, his skin dry. your chest feels empty. your heart is aching.

you lean your head on his knee, willing and praying your own tears away. one of you had to stay strong.

wonwoo kisses your temple, and you feel a few more tears fall onto your shoulder. his body shakes. a quiet sob escapes from his lips, his stoic resolve finally cracking. you shake your head silently, pressing another kiss to the back of his hand and close your eyes. they burn as unshed tears press against the back of your eyelids.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out.

for now, it’s enough.

—

ot13 | masterlist

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt fanfic #svt imagines #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic

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whumpacabra · 6 months

Text

Haircut

Past whump of a minor [8-10 years old], implied past abuse, restraints mention, nonsexual nudity [bathing], haircut, Ghost has no parenting skills

[Follows Ghost finds a kid]

They didn’t understand the outside, but the concrete floor of the garage they could work with. Whatever his game was, they could learn. They were a quick learner.

He was fiddling with various valves attached to old copper pipes, though he kept glancing over his shoulder as though he was afraid they might run. They wouldn’t. They knew better. The weight of the shackle and its short length of chain still attached to their leg was reminder enough of why they shouldn’t run.

The sound of sputtering, running water and a sharp curse pulled their eyes from the broken link of chain. The man stepped back from the dusty, dirty shower tucked in the corner of the garage.

Adjusting the knobs within for a few moments longer, he swept the curtain closed and turned to them. Finally, he gave them instructions.

“Shower. Get cleaned up. I’ll find some clothes for you before you get out.” His eyes flickered to their ankle as they limped forward, but he said nothing more as he disappeared through a door to the house.

They pulled the curtain back, the plasticky fabric speckled black with long dried mildew. There were cobwebs in the corners now bejewel by the warm mist, and a bar of withered, green soap sat soaking in the corner.

They stripped and stepped into the shower, doing their best to keep their racing heart quiet. Normally they bathed in the tub, water ice cold and the pale man’s steady hands threatening to hold them under if they splashed too much or cried too loudly when soap stung fresh cuts.

This water was warm, alien but comforting. The soap only stung the ring of half healed but still broken flesh that bordered both edges of their shackle. The soap smelled good, a sharp scent that reminded them of a spice they could always smell on the pale man’s breath, but never tasted. Not directly.

The soap didn’t smell so good anymore, and the water was too hot. They stepped out onto the well worn mat beside the shower and shivered, watching the water still black with the filth from their skin swirl around the drain half clogged with spiderwebs.

The man returned, a bundle of fabric in hand. He looked at them and quickly diverted his eyes before closing them, breathing slow and controlled.

They wanted to cry, panic building in their chest. What did he want?

“Take these. Dry off and get dressed.” He held out the fabric in his hands in their general direction, eyes still closed. They stepped slowly forward, gingerly taking the towel and the bundle of dry clothes wrapped inside it from his hands. There was a tension in his shoulders as he turned his back them. His hands were twitching to form a fist.

Their heart dropped like a stone as they stepped into boxers too wide to sit securely on their narrow hips. He was angry. They tried to think of what they did wrong. Maybe he wanted them to stay in the shower longer. Maybe they weren’t clean enough. Maybe he just didn’t like how they looked.

The pale man always threatened that they were too disfigured and ugly to love. That he was the only one gracious enough to care for them, that anyone else would kill them out of fear and horror and disgust.

Maybe this man realized this. Maybe he was walking across the garage and laying out a blue tarp to keep their blood off the cement when he killed them.

Their eyes traced the work table to his right. They could reach the screwdriver if they sprinted. But there was no anger in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at them.

Just something sad and tired.

“Come here.” They walked onto the tarp, keeping him and the nearest improvised weapon in their line of sight. He picked up a plastic case from the work table and produced a strange contraption, plugging the cord into an outlet that crackled angrily.

The machine hummed to life, miniature blade biting open air before he switched it off. His eyes still looked at them with something they didn’t recognize. They realized there was fear on their face before they schooled their expression to quiet.

“It’s just a buzzer. I’m going to cut your hair. There’s no saving that mess.” He gestured, spinning his finger around. “Turn around.“

They nodded stiffly and turned, shoulders tensed and squared. Whatever he wanted was alright, as long as they stayed alive. He took a handful of their matted locks in hand, lifting it away from their still damp neck.

“Is this alright?” Again they nodded, hoping he couldn’t see the shake of their shoulders that threatened to hunch up and pull away from his oddly light grip.

They waited for pain. For the blades to bite into the itching flesh of their scalp.

Instead of the buzzer glided against their skin, warm and humming as it worked. The mats of their hair were too thick to cleanly cut away, and it took the buzzer several minutes of biting at the mangled patch of hair before a weight suddenly dropped from their head. A clump of damp, black hair was splayed across the blue tarp behind them like a drowned rat.

“You alright?” He held the still humming buzzer aloft, hands hovering and not touching them as they raised their own hand to feel the freshly opened gap in their hair. The texture was strange, the air kissing their skin cold and new and itchy. They dropped their hands and nodded. He grabbed another clump of matted hair and continued.

The blue tarp grew black beneath their feet as their own hair fell in heavy clumps. Their hands twitched, itching to feel that new and somewhat pleasant sensation of their freshly shorn scalp again, but they resisted until he finally stepped back and clicked the buzzer off.

“How’s that? Better?” His hand was rough as he rubbed it over their head, brushing away stray pieces of hair. They leaned into his touch, foreign but welcome, not grabbing or pulling at them. When his hand left they turned to meet his eyes, gingerly rubbing their own hands over their head.

It felt clean. It felt new. It felt good.

They nodded, expression blank. An uncertain smile twitched at his lips before he turned abruptly to put away the buzzer.

“Pick up the tarp and dump the hair out the back door. By the red flowers.” He paused as he unplugged the buzzer’s cord. “It keeps the deer away. And the sparrows might use it in their nests.”

They didn’t understand entirely, but they did as he asked. They could learn this game, they might even win. This was something they could work with.

[Before Parenting Advice]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

#whump #past abuse #restraints mention #whump of a minor #minor whump #rescue #comfort #bathing #haircut #freelancers #no context november #i so desperately want to post my swansong AU but i have committed to no context november #which means i cant give you a coherent narrative day by day #so have some old RJ whump I wrote forever ago :]

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