#MY HEART IS BREAKING INTO SO MANY PIECES ILYSM | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beefromanoff · 9 months ago

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Project Mockingbird Ch. 19

summary: Bucky and Char are assigned to an undercover mission.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: so much angst, so much happy, so many feels. UGH. l hope you enjoy! this chapter was originally going to be twice as long, but I decided to break it into two parts so I could upload this week. thanks for reading, ilysm! let me know what you think!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________

The training room was dead quiet.

A far cry from its usual self, with the clang of weights and movement and the occasional grunt. Now, there was just the silence, heavy and thick. Bucky and I sat on the cold floor, our breaths the only sound, his shaky and mind shallow. I hardly moved, save for the hand idly stroking his hair. The strands that had once been damp with sweat had since dried, a slight curl to them now. Hours had passed, though I barely noticed until the clock on the wall showed it was rapidly approaching midnight. My foot had nearly gone numb from the awkward angle my leg was bent underneath me. Despite the discomfort, I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to disturb Bucky now that his sobs had given way to these quiet, shuddering breaths. Especially since the alternative would be to march him back through the compound, through people who would see him and ask questions and wonder. So I kept still. I waited for the world to go to sleep. I kept my hand moving against his hair, his cheek. I felt my foot prickle and go numb. Another hour passed.

Eventually, I nudged him gently, not entirely sure if he was awake or asleep. "Let's get you up," I murmured, more to fill the silence than anything else. He moved like a robot, his eyes not really seeing, staring off into some distance I couldn’t reach. I kept a hand on his back as I tugged him to his feet. He obliged, thankfully. I knew I could carry him, but this journey would be a lot simpler with him walking under his own volition.

We walked slowly across the gym, out into the cool night air. There wasn’t a soul to be found. I knew there were night agents scattered at their posts around the compound, but I prayed they’d mind their business tonight. We trudged down the path, Bucky’s eyes still clouded and distant, my hands holding tightly to his left arm. We got to our building, into the elevator, and eventually out the doors to our residential floor, where our friends had long since gone to sleep. A single lamp had been left on in the living area, I noticed. Probably Steve or Natasha’s doing. I had a feeling if I looked in the fridge, I’d find two plates set aside for us as well. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had much of an appetite since finding Bucky’s file. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. We crossed the living room to his door, his silence weighing down on me. It was a heavy kind of quiet, filled with the echoes of the horrors those files had dragged back into the light. I turned the knob and let us into his room. I’d never crossed the threshold before, but I’d be lying if I said I never wondered what it was like. The space was clean, simple, but I didn’t allow myself to look around. Now wasn’t the time to see if I’d been right in my assumptions. I’d be nosy on some future visit, maybe when he actually invited me in. For now, I was doing what he needed. Or at least, what I would have needed if it had been my file we stumbled upon.

He stood numbly in the center of the room, still clad in his training clothes. Slowly, tenderly, I lifted his shirt over his head. I removed his clothing piece by piece, trying not to spook him. It felt important, being allowed to do this, like I was being trusted with something fragile. Under any other circumstances, having him stripped down to his underwear in front of me would have my cheeks bright red and my skin on fire…but not now. My heart ached for him. I wished I could follow that blank stare to whatever nightmare he was back in, just so I could fight it off and bring him back to me, back to this moment. Somehow it was even more unnerving to see someone so strong, so stoic, like this. He was raw and exposed and vulnerable, standing here, nearly naked in his room. I’d seen him shirtless before, but not this close. His body was defined, he looked like he was carved from stone. I lifted my hands to his chest, my fingers brushing over the ridge of scar tissue where his vibranium arm had been fused to his body. The skin was red, jagged, angry. Like they’d haphazardly put him back together. I wondered if it still hurt him. Hot tears stung my eyes as I fought back thoughts of what he’d seen, survived. I tore myself back to the moment, pushing my white-hot rage aside for the moment.

Gently, I pushed him to sit on the edge of his bed, kneeling before him. His head hung, his eyes fixed on the floor. One by one, I put his shoes on my lap, undoing the laces and slipping them off. “I’ll be right back.” I promised, unsure if he could even hear me, wherever he’d gone in his mind.

I got the shower running, making sure it was nice and warm, before stepping back out. Looping my arm through his, I pulled him to his feet, ushering him into the already steamy bathroom. I debated whether to give him some privacy or stay, and once again –– his unseeing look kept me rooted to his side. Gently, I slid my fingertips inside the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down his legs. Thankfully, these luxurious bathrooms we each had in our rooms didn’t have shower doors, you simply walked in. Yet another feature that reminded me of my stint in Las Vegas.

I gently nudged his back, muscles taut and tense as he stepped into the stream of water. “This should help,” I murmured as it soaked his hair, running down his chest. The room had completely filled up with steam, making everything else seem even further away. Slowly, I washed his hair, taking my time and making sure the sweat and the trauma and the nightmare of a day all washed down the drain. When I was finished, I turned the water off and towel dried his hair, wiping the droplets off of his body. I kept my eyes to myself as much as possible as I worked. I didn’t exist as someone he knew, someone he’d almost kissed. I didn’t exist as someone with feelings for him or someone who hoped he felt the same way. In this moment, I existed only to keep his demons from swallowing him whole.

After finding a clean t-shirt and fresh pair of boxers and coaxing him back onto his bed, I looked over him one more time. He was massive, his muscled back showing through his shirt, nearly as tall as I was standing up while he was seated. Yet, he looked so small.

Fuck. I hated HYDRA for what they’d done to him. For the horrors he’d seen and been forced to relive. For the monster he believed himself to be. For the brutality he’d been forced to live and now live with. For how small and fragile he looked in front of me right now. I leaned forward, my hand brushing his cheek as I pressed a gentle kiss to his brow. I prayed he didn’t see the tight fist my other hand was clenched into, tight with rage and a promise to the empire I would personally bring down.

“Goodnight, Buck. I’m only a few doors down. Call me if you need anything.”

A hand gripped my wrist as I turned to leave. Looking over my shoulder, his blue eyes met mine for the first time all night.

“Will you stay?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. I hated the shame that flooded his eyes, that knit his brow together. This was the second time in twelve hours he’d asked me not to leave him. Whatever remained of my frozen heart melted into nothingness. Crawling onto his bed, I touched his cheek again.

“Of course,” I breathed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_________

Two weeks later

The room was bristling with a focused energy, screens aglow and papers shuffling as Maria Hill stood at the front, flicking through slides on the projector. The usual suspects—Steve, Natasha, Tony, Charlotte, and Bucky—were scattered around the table.

Maria’s voice was crisp as she addressed them. “The sale of stolen Stark Industries tech is scheduled to occur at the Sanctuary Resort this weekend. The mission is simple, to head off the sale, obtain evidence of the transaction, and retrieve the tech. We aren’t anticipating a need for violent intervention.”

Charlotte leaned back in her chair, raising an eyebrow. “I’m honestly surprised, Tony, that your tech doesn’t have a self-destruct feature.”

“He saves the self-destruction for himself.” Nat winked.

Tony smirked, glancing over at her. “It does have a self-destruct feature, actually. And this one happens to have an audio transmitting feature, which is how we know exactly where they’ll be. But rather than just disarm the tech and render it useless, I thought we’d add a little flare. I want to publicly humiliate these clowns by having the sale busted wide open. I want the good name of Hammer Industries to be besmirched beyond salvation.”

Steve and Bucky locked eyes as Steve raised an eyebrow and mouthed ‘besmirched?’ Furrowing her brow, Charlotte leaned forward onto her elbows. “Let me get this straight.” She pointed at Tony. “You installed safeguards against this very situation in the tech in question. However, rather than use the safeguard for the exact reason it was created, you’d rather use SHIELD time and resources and deploy a team of the most powerful and deadly individuals on the planet to go and do that for you? All for the sake of embarrassing your competitor?”

Tony paused, pretending to think. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, chuckling with the rest of the group.

“As the primary benefactor of both SHIELD and the Avengers,” Tony continued. “Well, and all of you personally. For the most part, not talking to you, Moneybags,” he winked at Charlotte. “I feel entitled to using these resources for personal gain every now and again.”

Maria continued, ignoring him, as usual. “We need two of you to go undercover at the resort to ensure the tech is secured and the buyers and sellers are apprehended. This is delicate; we can't just storm in or we risk them aborting the mission entirely.”

Steve looked over at Bucky, then at Charlotte. “I think Charlotte should go,” he said quickly. “She needs more field experience.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “And Bucky’s great undercover. His poker face is unparalleled. Plus,” She shrugged. “Steve and I are too recognizable.”

Charlotte shot them both a narrow look, catching the hint of a setup, but she stayed silent, waiting to see how Bucky would react. He simply raised his eyebrows and looked at Maria, waiting for instructions. Her stomach turned. Things around them had been…fine. Suspiciously so. After the night she’d spent with him, they never spoke of it again. She’d woken up to a mug of coffee on the nightstand and a note that simply read, ‘thank you.’ Sensing he didn’t want to talk about it, she followed his lead. Now, two weeks later, they’d simply gone back to their normal shit-talking, borderline flirtatious dynamic.

Maria looked between them. “Alright. Bucky, Charlotte, you’re on this. I’ll arrange for you to stay at a safe house nearby.”

Natasha quickly chimed in, “Actually, Maria, I was thinking we should book them a suite at the resort itself. It’s crucial they stay close, maintain a visual on the targets at all times. A successful mission could depend on proximity and their ability to act quickly, so having them on property would be prudent.”

Maria raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Very well, that makes sense. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Tony, gathering his things, couldn’t help but add, “Just remember, the mission is to catch the bad guys, not spa treatments and room service. Keep your eyes on the prize, kids.”

Charlotte chuckled, shaking her head. “No promises, Tony.”

As the others began to disperse, Natasha leaned over to Charlotte, whispering with a conspiratorial grin, “You can thank me later for the suite. Just make sure to keep the noise down, yeah?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Subtle, Nat. Very subtle.”

_________

I'm running. My heart hammers against my ribcage so fiercely I fear it might break through. The trees are a blur of green and brown, the ground beneath my feet cold and uneven. My breath forms ragged clouds in the air, mingling with the whispered German commands crackling through the earpiece:

“Verfolgen. Töten.” Track. Kill.

I want to rip the earpiece out, scream into the silence of the woods, but my body isn’t mine. It moves with mechanical precision, every step, every breath choreographed by someone else. My hands are steady, too steady for someone supposed to be human.

There’s a figure ahead, darting between the trees. I know nothing about them—age, gender, reasons for being here—only that they are my target. My mission. And like a well-oiled machine, I follow. The chase is methodical, a grotesque dance I’ve performed too many times. The programming is flawless; not once do my steps falter.

But inside, I am screaming.

I'm close now, so close I can hear their panicked breaths, see the mist they exhale. The commands in my ear grow louder, more insistent.

“Schnell! Erledige es!” Quick! Finish it!

I raise my gun. My hand doesn’t tremble. It should tremble. Why doesn’t it tremble?

“Please,” the figure begs, turning around. Their face is blurry, indistinct, but their eyes are clear, wide with terror. They see me, truly see me, and in their eyes, I’m a monster.

I am a monster.

I squeeze the trigger. The sound is deafening, a brutal punctuation to the nightmare I’m trapped in. The figure falls, and suddenly the woods are silent, oppressively silent. I stand over them, my breaths shallow, the gun heavy in my hand.

The German commands praise me, cold and emotionless. “Gut gemacht.” Well done.

But it’s not well done. It’s horrific. I drop to my knees, the gun slipping from my grasp. I'm shaking, tears streaming down my face, mingled with sweat and dirt. My heart aches, not from the exertion, but from the sheer terror of what I’ve become. What they made me.

And then, suddenly, I'm awake, gasping for air in the darkness of my room, the remnants of the woods and the cold eyes fading into the shadows of my bedroom. My body is slick with sweat, my sheets tangled around my legs as if they too know of my guilt, my horror.

I remember everything. Every command, every mission, every life taken. And it haunts me, every single night.

________

The morning sun was bright, warming the hangar through the open bay doors as Bucky and I deposited our bags at the foot of the Quinjet ramp. Since this mission was in the United States, we didn’t have to leave at the ass crack of dawn like the previous mission, which I much preferred. Our attire was a little different, too. I adjusted the tennis dress I was wearing, a light, neutral thing that seemed more suited for a country club than a mission, but it was perfect for our cover. Bucky, in his turn, looked unexpectedly dashing in casual khaki pants and a crisp white shirt, the very picture of a man ready for a luxurious vacation and escape from his corporate empire. He’d let his facial hair grow out and slicked his hair back, a few slight changes to keep him from being recognized. The watch he wore on his right wrist had been equipped with holographic technology, the same used for the Quinjet when it went into stealth mode. While he wore it, Bucky’s metal hand appeared normal and flesh.

They’d drawn up a loose picture of who we were supposed to be this weekend –– Mr. and Mrs. Van Damme, a childless couple from Vermont who lived off of his stock market prowess. We’d decided to end tax season with a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona. Maria had booked the trip over email, posing as Mr. Van Damme’s office secretary and personal assistant. She’d made it clear that privacy and discretion was very important to our stay, making it clear that housekeeping services would not be required at all this weekend. I supposed it wouldn’t bode well for our ‘undercover’ shtick if some poor, unassuming housekeeper walked into our room to see the small arsenal of spyware and handguns that we’d laden our bags with.

Natasha and Steve came striding towards us, their expressions a mask barely-concealed amusement. They stopped, giving us the once-over, nodding approvingly at our transformation.

“Look at you two,” Natasha teased, her eyes twinkling. “America’s most glamorous power couple.”

Bucky shot her a look, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t start, Nat.”

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper something that made Bucky’s eyes widen momentarily before he glanced over at me, his cheeks tinged with pink. I was dying to know what was said, but Natasha grabbed my arm, pulling me a few steps away before I could pry.

“Alright, Char,” she began, her voice low and mischievous, “you’ve got the perfect set up here. Beautiful resort, romantic dinners under the stars… If you’re planning to make a move, I’d say the universe is handing you a golden ticket.”

I felt my face heat up at her insinuation. “Nat, we’re there to work,” I murmured, although a part of me fluttered at the thought.

“Work and play don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” she winked, giving me a gentle shove back towards Bucky.

The agents around us gave a thumbs up, indicating they’d loaded our bags and completed final pre-flight checks. Walking up the ramp, I caught Bucky’s eye. He looked annoyed and slightly embarrassed, likely still processing whatever Steve had told him. I ignored it, focusing on my own jitters.

“Ready for this?” I asked, my voice steady despite the butterflies rioting in my stomach.

Bucky nodded, his gaze intense. “Always.”

We climbed into the jet, the doors closing behind us with a soft hiss. As the engines roared to life, I settled in the co-pilot's seat next to Bucky, our arms brushing. I tried to ignore the burning on my skin from the contact, twisting the diamond ring on my finger to distract myself.

“That’ll take some getting used to, huh?” He nodded at my hands before continuing to set us up for flight.

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “But there are worse aspects to the job.” I held my left hand out and admired the massive stone twinkling in the sunlight. I’d intentionally not asked if the ring was real or fake, not wanting to give myself undue pressure not to lose it. In my mind, like the marriage, this ring was all for show.

“Yeah, this shouldn’t suck.” He met my eyes and gave a half smile as we lifted off the ground.

As the Quinjet ascended into the sky, the landscape below shrinking to miniature proportions, I wasn’t sure if the flipping in my gut was from the look or from our departure. Bucky's casual remark about the ring only added to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"Personally, I hate sunshine and relaxation," I drawled, attempting to lighten the mood. “Spending a few days in one of the most gorgeous places in the world? Shitty. We should be getting hazard pay for this.”

Bucky chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "I’d agree with the hazard pay if you were flying us," he admitted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I can think of worse ways to spend this week.”

I shot him a playful glare, my heart fluttering at the sight of his smile. "First of all, fuck off," I teased, my voice betraying the nervous flutter in my chest. “Second of all, you don’t strike me as the type to sit by the pool and sip Mai Tais.”

“I prefer margaritas.” His face was stoic.

I paused, still not entirely sure when he was joking. “I…have to agree with you on that one.”

“I like the warm weather.” He shifted us into autopilot and switched off stealth mode as we soared outside the compound’s shields. “The sun, the breeze. Anything but the cold.”

A chill ran through me as I flashed back to the snow, the bases in Germany and Siberia. The freezing air on my cheeks, the woods, the bleak gray skies. Shaking my head, I fumbled over my words despite myself. “Yeah, I –– uh…I don’t like it either. I was kidding…before.”

“I figured.” He shot a half smile and a sidelong look my way.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the air thickened, the weight of our unspoken thoughts hanging between us like a heavy fog. I stole a glance at Bucky, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the control panel, and felt a pang of guilt twist in my chest.

The memory of his breakdown in the training room haunted me, a stark reminder of the darkness lurking beneath our surface level conversations. The only kind we seemed to be able to have these days. I wanted to reach out, to offer him some semblance of comfort, but the words lodged in my throat, suffocated by the weight of my own uncertainty. He knew I was here for him, surely. He’d talk to me when he was ready. If he was ever ready.

I knew I’d be here either way.

–––––––––

The desert sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow that lit the expansive balcony of the resort. Bucky and I sat at a secluded table near the edge, our attire blending perfectly with the affluent crowd. I had chosen a sleek black dress that toed the line between classy and slutty, while Bucky was in a dark suit that made him look like stepped out of some mafia movie. His hair was slicked back, making him look every bit the business mogul he was pretending to be.

Our target, a middle-aged man with a cropped hairstyle, nursed a drink at the bar. His casual glances around the room didn't betray his purpose here, but we knew better. We observed him discreetly, taking note of every interaction he had.

A waitress approached, her smile bright. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Van Damme. Can I start you off with some champagne?"

"Please," Bucky replied with a charming smile, sliding into his role with ease. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, playing the part of the doting husband.

As she walked away, I swirled the stem of the glass in my fingers, the ambiance of the resort making this feel almost too real. "You know," I started, a shy smile playing on my lips, "I've never actually been on a date before. This—even though it's all a cover—is kind of a first for me."

Bucky's expression softened. "Really? Well, I'm honored to be your first. Even if it's just pretend."

I laughed, the sound more nervous than I intended. "It's weird, right? After everything... I mean, how do you even start to think about dating or... connecting with anyone who doesn't know how twisted and fucked up your life has been?" I took a sip of the champagne, feeling it ignite my stomach in the best way. The air had cooled off significantly as the sun sank below the mountains in the distance.

"It's not easy," Bucky admitted, his gaze lingering on the desert view before us. "Feels like nobody could really understand unless they've been through something similar. All that stuff doesn't just go away. It’s not really something you feel like catching someone up on over dinner."

I chuckled, although it really wasn’t funny. "Yeah. In some ways, it’s nice to pretend to be someone else.” I gestured at myself, him, the table between us. “I actually enjoy it. This is what I did for months, back in Vegas. I didn’t feel like I had to explain myself or hide something, I just…became someone else. I changed my hair all the time. It felt safer, the anonymity. The lack of anyone really knowing or caring about me. I wasn’t special…and I think that’s why I loved it so much.”

Bucky gave me a half smile, sipping his champagne before leaning forward. “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think there’s ever been a moment where you haven’t been special.” His unwavering eye contact was unnerving. My stomach flipped. Lifting my champagne to my lips, I did what I do best –– deflected.

“See, I heard you were quite the ladies' man back in the day, and now I’m starting to believe it." I teased. “For a while, I thought Steve was losing his mind in his old age.”

Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes as he sat back in his seat. "That was a long time ago, Charlotte. I was a different person then. It all came naturally. Now..." He shrugged, looking away. "I'm far from that guy. Everything now feels like I'm learning it all over again."

“What is it they say…it’s like riding a bike?” I mused.

“I never learned to ride a bike.” He met my eyes again.

“Me either.”

The moment hung between us, filled with unspoken understanding. Our eyes remained locked, and there was a depth to his gaze that made me feel like anything but his coworker.

"It's strange," I looked off across the resort grounds, the incredible scenery, "to be here, after everything. Pretending to be normal –– married, no less. You and I, having dinner like this. It’s a little ironic, no?”

He laughed, so much so that his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Yeah, it is pretty fucking ironic.” He lifted his half-empty champagne glass. “To irony, and to my wife.”

I raised mine and grinned as we clinked them together. “To irony…and to my husband.”

#bucky barnes #avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes #winter soldier fluff

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seungstarss · 3 years ago

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SEII HI!! Im the Anon that asked if it was okay to send you stuff about your fics ^^ I journal about kpop and recently ive been making journal spreads/entries on fics ive read. I mentioned already how much i love Revelations, so it was the first i made a spread on!! God i hope it looks okay ;;;;

I made this to show appreciation and share my thoughts on the fics i read hehe. I also really enjoyed BET (and adrenaline rush tbh kinda sad that you removed it but im gonna wait for the re release of that and revelation's sequel even if it take years TT) Definitely making a spread on Bet tho so stay tuned for that :^)) Love your writings Sei!! have a great dayyy.

HOLY SHI???????? WHAT THE ACTUAL⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ YO WHAT EVEN IM SCREAMING???? YOU'RE SO TALENTED???? OMGOMG I CANNOT RN 😭😭😭 I'M SO SOSO HONORED LIKE I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH THIS BRIGHTEN UP MY DAY😭 NO BECAUSE I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ENJOYED MY FIC THIS MUCH ;_;;; I'M REALLY GLAD IT WAS ABLE TO GIVE YOU COMFORT AND BRING YOU HAPPINESS OML😭💖 (even tho it's angst ahahahah) BUT I HAVE BEEN STARING AT THIS FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES??? HOW ARE U ABLE TO TAKE MY BORING ASS WORK AND TURN IT INTO SUCH A MASTERPIECE ⁉️

please on a more calm note,,, I really can't express how much I appreciate this! Hopefully I can write more works that you can enjoy!! It's really makes me happy when I get asks like this💖😭 pls ily sm

OH AND MY BAD I KEEP FORGETTING TO WRITE THE SEQUEL👺 HOPEFULLY I CAN GET TO IT SOON AFTER I FINISH SOME OF MY UNI APP STUFF!! sorry to make you wait 😭

But have the best day!! And I'll def be looking forward to the bet one bc you're absolutely talented and I'm living for it 🤩 take care my fav!!

#MY HEART IS BREAKING INTO SO MANY PIECES ILYSM #💖 PLEASE TAKE ALL MY LOVE #hee-in asks ♡#sei yells—🗣❗#♡♡♡!

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crazylovemail · 3 years ago

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hello my love!!!!! 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 hope you’ve been keeping well, nd i hope you don’t mind if i quickly steal a spot sjdjsnd but don’t force yourself to write this if you don’t wanna, ily!!

// coughing // may i req for either koga / kuro for a reader who struggles to sleep at night but tends to be sleepy all around the day,,. who literally sleeps anywhere and everywhere LOLOL

ilysm!!

xx 🍒

🌸 ~ let's get you comfy

Since I did koga for you last time, I decided to go with kuro. Hope you like it, Love you ♡

Note: I wrote this in a sleepy state so there might be grammatical errors. I apologize in advance

Word count: 678

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry”

Those were the only words you could mutter out after you had bumped into your boyfriend for the how manyth time now? Your body had gone into autopilot mode long ago but with that foggy mind of yours, things were bound to go wrong at some point.

Kuro could only look at you, confusion and worry filling his eyes, as he held your sides to prevent you from falling. It wasn't the first time you'd acted like this, in fact it was a lot more common than he wanted it to be. Even if he had seen you sleeping countless times during the day, you still remained sleepy as ever. The only thing that could explain it was..

“how many hours of sleep did you get last night”

You blinked once. Then twice. To be completely honest, you barely even slept at all. It wasn't like you didn't want to, you just couldn't for some unexplainable reason. Your eyes nervously darted to the sides, trying to avoid kuro's at all cost, but he soon enough crouched a little and tilted his head, determined to get an answer out of you. At this, you couldn't help but sigh.

“2... Maybe. Not sure.”

Instantly, kuro could feel his heart break into a million pieces. That explained the eyebags, the drowsy behavior all through the day and your tendency to sleep at any time during the day. He hated to see you like that, he much preferred your usual energetic side, the side of you when you were fully awake. Moreover, you deserved a good night's sleep, no?

“know what?”

And even if it wasn't night yet, how could kuro, as your boyfriend, keep you from getting the sleep you much, much needed?

“let's get you comfy first”

Before you could process what he had just said, you suddenly couldn't feel the floor beneath you anymore as Kuro had swiftly swiped you off your feet in a bridal style. Your face was buried deep into his chest and you could smell his warm, comforting scent. It was.. Quite the flustering situation that you had found yourself in, your heart started racing paired with an immense heat that rose to your face. Kuro himself didn't seem that bothered by it, however. His expression remained calm as ever, but if you paid just a little more attention, you could feel his heart thumping against your cheeks in a slightly faster rhythm than usual...

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even realize your love had carried you all the way to your bedroom. It was only when he gently laid you down that you came back to your senses, although not before instinctively tightening your grip on his arms. Noticing this action of yours, Kuro let out a chuckle and leaned in to place a soft, fluttery kiss on your forehead, one that said 'don't worry, love. You'll be fine'.

You'd expect him to tell you to go sleep now and leave, but instead the redhead made his way to the other side of the bed and layed down next to you. It took him only seconds after that to find a comfortable position and scoop you in his arms, pulling you close to him which funny enough made you face a similar situation as earlier.

“I'll be right here, yea? So just close your eyes and rest.”

He had only spoken a few words, yet why did it feel like he had sung you a sweet ullaby? When did you start feeling so drowsy? How did he manage to make you feel so at ease by just being there? You could only wonder and do as he said.

To close your eyes, right.. You did. You closed them shut so that the only thing that could trigger your senses was the warmth of his body. Ah, so warm.. Safe.. Kuro... Those were the last things that ran through your mind before everything went blank, and finally, you fell into a deep, comfortable slumber.

“sleep well, darling”

#❁‧₊ lovemail #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #kuro kiryu #kuro kiryu x reader #kiryu kuro x reader #enstars #ensemble stars

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twelfth-harbinger · 4 years ago

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Hello!! I just finished reading your Zhongli piece and it’s so so good! I love the way you write and your descriptions, unlike other writers who just dive into dialogue and feels very 1D, yours is 3-D!! I love it! Do you plan on continuing the Zhongli one with part 2 NSFW?!?

Also, may I please request a NSFW Diluc piece with female reader, who’s his co-worker/bartender who works at angels share with Charles?

Thank you for your hard work!

A/n: Firstly, yes!!! & thank you!!!, ilysm <3. Secondly Diluc is fucking hot & this is something I couldn’t get out my mind once I read your request. Pls Enjoy ^^

Mentions: Master Diluc likes being called...Master Diluc. Don’t taunt him it’ll lead to something spontaneous and igniting! Bar sex.

Warnings: Nsfw! So spicy hehe

The Angel of Angel’s Share

He spotted you on his occasional endeavors to Angels Share, being an outstanding and tremendous help to Charles when it came to cleaning up and serving drinks to the patrons of his humble business. You insisted that Charles let you help out once in a while as a side job — you needed the mora. Upon getting Dilics rather passive approval in a letter you got in! You spend most nights tidying up, wiping down tables and cleaning glasses periodically. Many of the bar patrons converse with you. Calling you the literal Angel of Angel’s Share. Your beauty was no secret, every man and woman there simply adored you. How could they not? You were friendly, outgoing and most importantly, kind. Your smile was as radiant as the sun itself and of course Diluc had to witness it with his own two eyes. Word did not spread around his establishment without him in the loop. Kaeya frequented the bar more often to flirt with see you; he was a regular before, but now? You rarely go a night where you don’t see him, even if it’s for a short while. Charles has to make snide comments about him slacking off to get him to leave.

All it takes is one night for things to burn brightly into something new, a night akin to this one. Diluc stood behind the counter to relieve Charles for the night shift — he had been there all morning and the night before. You walked in as Diluc was speaking to Charles, you wasted no time in maneuvering to the second floor to clear those tables first.

“Enjoy your night off Charles, I’ll take it from here.” Diluc waved him away and well, it left you there with him. Not alone of course, not yet. As the night pressed on you entertained the customers, served them delicious drinks Diluc prepared and made friends with Stanley?? The busy happy hour of Angels Share gave you no time to take a break. Not until it was well after hours and Diluc had locked the doors to Angel’s Share for the night.

“Good work today.” You chirped happily, as you sat at the bar of the counter atop a stool. Diluc prepared you spiked wolf hook juice on the house; it had a bearclaw kind of taste to it. One of Dliuc’s hands held an empty glass whilst the other dried it with a plain off-white dish cloth.

“I should be saying that to you, you overachieved tonight.” He didn’t mean for his comment to come off as brash, even though it did. You glanced up at him over the top to your glass, your eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. He quickly corrected himself with a light clear of his throat. “Not...that, that’s a bad thing. You..did well.”

Talk about awkward, you and he hadn’t spoken much since your employment over the past few months. You were undoubtedly curious about this handsome man with hair the color of fire. All dressed in black and a wielder of a claymore. He had to have some form of immense physical strength to do so and it only made you wonder what else he could do.

“Why thank you Master Diluc.” Your lips curled into a coy smile as you peeked up at him over the rim of your glass once more. His eyes were like flames too, and his gaze made you burn. It’s strange, so many people address him as Master Diluc regularly and yet you were the only person that was able to stoke the fire within him. Intentionally or not he enjoyed the way it rolled off your tongue and he wanted to hear it again. His hand stopped moving in the glass and he set it down neatly next to the others that were lined up.

“There’s no need to thank me, everyone deserves recognition for their hard work.” He played it cool, you’ll give him that. You stood up, hopping off the stool to the bar, only to walk around it and move past him. You were shorter than he was, he saw the top of your head. He was in the midst of asking you what you were doing but you stopped in front of him to drop to your knees. He fucking froze, he watched you completely unsure of what was going to happen next. He prayed to the gods that you weren’t going to do what he wanted you to do. He wouldn’t be able to keep it together otherwise and he doubted he’d stop you. With a cheeky grin you stood back up with a large jug of homemade grape juice in a hand. He exhaled quietly, letting out a silent sigh that caught in his throat. His face remained straight with a hint of a slight irritable frown threatening the corners of his lips. You proceeded to stand in front of him, turning your back to him to pour a glass of his favorite beverage.

“I know you don’t drink and I heard you liked grape juice from your brother. Why not sit and join me for a while?”

His eyes drifted down the back of your figure before he stepped aside shamefully, Kaeya rubbed off on him more than he cared to admit. Even so, he was ignoring any and all signals you were sending him. Or at least he was trying his very best to. Certainly nothing came that easy— a passing thought you both shared. He sat beside you at the bar, it was silent for a little while. You looked at him with a slight turn of your head and moved to place a hand on your cheek. He lowered the glass from his face and looked over at you. Seeing him up close was making you nervous, you thought you had it in you to seduce this man but you began having second thoughts. He stared at you as if he was trying to read you like a book. It only made things more complicated which lead to you doubting yourself even more. Kaeya never made you this nervous even when he flirted with you.

“My brother told you I liked grape juice what a nuisance.” He said, breaking the silence; he had to the cat ripped out your tongue. You looked at the glass jug and then at him and finally smiled, breaking a light sweat from your overthinking.

“O-Oh, yes haha.. he was teasing you quite a bit.” Diluc didn’t find it amusing Kaeya could get under his skin like it was his job. A light ‘tch’ left his lips as he raised his glass. You followed suit needing more liquid courage than you initially thought. “It’s okay,” You sighed out, you cheeks warming from the bitter sweet drink. “Apple juice is superior in any case.” Diluc looked at you and a light smile crossed his features as he shook his head.

“It’s not.” He stated, “At all in fact.” You caught his semi playful gaze, you narrowed your eyes a little at the comment. “Sunsettia juice is even better in all aspects.” You chuckled and lowered your hand onto the table.

“Coming from the juice enthusiast himself why am I not surprised.” Diluc smirked a bit, finding your comment funny. He looked at you and your radiantly warm smile; it really did resemble that of the morning and setting sun. The two of you remained there conversing with each other well into the night, losing track of time. He hadn’t felt this at ease with anyone by his side in a while. Jean was a great friend to talk to but she was so busy he rarely got to speak with her. He was too in his own right, running the wine industry in Monstadt was no easy task.

“Do you enjoy working here?” He asked as you stood up to stretch, the tables in the back still needed to be cleared, a few drinking tankards, bottles and glasses were scattered about. His question made you think, you loved the night atmosphere of the tavern and the people that came with it.

“Of course I do, it’s very inviting I dare say more than Cats Eye.” You looked his way with a grin he stood up along with you a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Though I do have my work cut out for me here.” You quipped lightly before making your way to the back of the bar where a wooden bench table sat nestled in the corner with a small cabinet and barrel behind it. Diluc followed after to aide in an easy clean up you worked hard enough for tonight. With your back turned you bend over the table without fully walking around it to reach for the glasses and tankards. Your arms were quite short given your stature, without thinking too deeply into his actions Dilic stood halfway behind you to grab the bottle.

“It’s fine to take a break once in a while. There is no need to overwork yourself.” He stated plainly as he picked up the second bottle that sat next to the first. Unbeknownst to him you felt his presence the moment he stepped up behind you. He smelled like a freshly lit fire in the middle of the Whispering Woods his warmth drew you in. You stepped back somewhat unintentionally, your backside grazing him lightly as you turned around to face him. Even on your toes you wouldn’t be at eye level, he stared down at you a bit embarrassed by what he believed was his fault. He opened his mouth to apologize, you couldn’t stop yourself from stealing a kiss. When your lips pressed against his in a sweetened and heated kiss, you noticed Diluc tensed up. The bottles he had fell over onto the surface of the table. Upon hearing that you pulled away and stood flat footed against the edge of the able. You avoided looking at him and tugged on the ends of your hair sheepishly.

“Sorry I...don’t know what came over me, I thought maybe...“ With your half hearted apology you trailed off looking up at Diluc who stared down at you with a perplexed look in his eye. With his gloved hand he reached up to cup your cheek and leaned down to press his lips firmly against yours. His other hand moved up to hold the other side of your cheek. He wanted to kiss you the moment everyone left. Your lips moved in time with his, your hands finding themselves holding onto the sides of his coat. Without breaking the kiss, he lowered his hands to your waist and then to your thighs. In one swift movement he effortlessly lifted you to sit you on top of the table. The bottles on the surface rattled upon him doing so, slightly moving the table in the process. Your hands moved up his chest from his sides as his own slipped further down your legs to hold onto your waist. His pants were growing tighter by the second, you were so beautiful and he hadn’t voiced it yet. Not that he was given the chance to, the moment you both came up for air you pulled him into another fierce kiss, you legs locking around him in efforts to draw him closer. You needed him to ruin you on that table top and he wasn’t going to deny you of one of life’s simple pleasures. After all this man made it so that people could drink happily within the safety of Angel’s Share. Your tongue moved past your lips and Diluc gladly glided his own over yours to gain access. His hand moved back up to your cheek only to slip down to your neck to hold you in place as his other hand moved up the side of your thigh to squeeze. His leather gloves felt so good on your skin, you wanted to feel more of him.

Your hands moved from his sides to his pants, fumbling with the belts and buttons to try and get them loose. Diluc moved to kiss your neck, his warm lips trailing hot kisses against your soft skin. He made an audible sound, a muffled moan as he kissed the nape of your neck. You tugged him closer upon finally undoing his bottoms. His hand wandered down your side and moved to hitch up your work tunic, the other pulling onto the string to your top. He yanked it down to reveal your bare chest, as he exposed your legs and thighs. He was going to thoroughly enjoy fucking you on top of that table. A slight smile crossed his features as his index finger and thumb moved down to grip your chin, he tilted your head up to look into your eyes. Never has a man made you this weak with such a simple gaze.

“Is this what you want?” He asked quietly, he wasn’t going to begin without asking you. Your brows furrowed in need and you nodded as your eyes searched his face. His own were a bit complacent when he didn’t move to give you what he knew you wanted; he wanted to hear you say it. He only moved in to kiss you once more before his lips found the skin of your neck again.

“Diluc..please.” You whined, he smiled lightly against your neck and kept kissing. You wondered why he was only kissing you, unbeknownst to you his hand moved down in between your legs and his crotch to free his fully hardened member from the confides of his trousers. “M-Master Di—“ Your breath hitched in your throat and you moaned out the rest of his name, a deep growl moving past his lips as he slipped inside of you. He stretched you out continuously as you contracted around his length in utter bliss. Your legs squeezed around him and his hands gripped your waist and thigh. Pulling you closer to his chest as he bottomed out inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed himself further; your lips parted in a light moan and your hands tangled in his red locks. Diluc’s hand moved from your thigh to your neck to hold you in place briefly as he leaned back to look at your face. It was intoxicating, if he could get drunk off your facial expressions he would. He pulled back and thrusted hard into you, your body jerked up and the table moved along with the bottles and glasses on top of it.

You cried out in pleasure and your hips bucked against his. He bit down on his bottom lip to surpress a groan, he thrusted once again, finding a hard and steady rhythm that left your body jerking upwards against the table and your chest exposed for him to see. An alluring sight that made him thrust even harder and your loud moans to fill the atmosphere of the bar. Mixed in were his own light goans and mild grunts, even as he laid you flat onto the table he didn’t stop. Though the pace slowed a bit, he became more forceful with his movements which made your back arch into his chest and your legs shake. You were going to cum a lot harder than you expected, you could feel it and so could he, you caught wind of a faint smirk that slipped across his face as he kissed you. A kiss deep enough where you could lose oneself. Your hands tugged at his hair and your face pleaded with a need for release.

The bottles, tankards and glasses had since fell onto the floor of Angel’s Share. Not that either of you could be bothered by it now. As your climax rushed at you like a battering ram Diluc groaned out low into your ear the sound made your body quiver, you were about to milk him dry. Your hands slipped out of his hair and fell back onto the table as you convulsed in an intense high. Diluc held you in his arms and sat you back up, with your legs wrapped around him once again. He turned and sat on the edge of the table with you on top, allowing you to ride out the rest of your orgasm as he filled your depths with his hot seed. The feeling itself made you shutter as he buried his face into your chest and his arms wrapped around you, the moan he let out was something you could never get tired of hearing. The area in Angel’s Share that you two both shared had grown hot, the sweat you broke out was enough to cause your breathing to be ragged.

“Master Diluc...” You mumbled into his hair with closed eyes and a smile, his hands rested on your waist as his head rested on your chest. He moved back to look up at you, his hand moving to brush your cheek. He kissed your cheek as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Yes?” He replied, a smile crossing his features, you grinned at him finding the humor in his answer. You kissed him once more, this time slowly to savor the taste of his lips. He looked up at you, his eyes flickering like fire. “There’s going to be a shipment at the Dawn Winery from Liyue, Charles usually comes to pick it up but, I trust you enough to be there in his stead.” Upon hearing those words you knew you’d see him again.

“I will gladly be there, Master Diluc.”

Bonus

After your visit to the Dawn winery a few day ago, you decided to get an afternoon drink at Angel’s Share. Outside you ran into Kaeya and Diluc sitting at one of the tables outside. Kaeya spotted you first of course and when your eyes met Diluc’s a smile surfaced onto your face and his own softened a bit. Which, caught Kaeya’s attention quickly; being the absurdly perceptive man that he was.

“You’re here early, I thought your shift doesn’t start until sundown.” Kaeya spoke with a smile that was suspiciously sly. Diluc sat there with his arms crossed and a placid frown on his face, you sat with them and looked at Kaeya unamused.

“I thought I’d get a drink before my shift, I’ve been quite busy as of late.” You replied moving a hand to rest on your cheek, Diluc was silent and Kaeya looked between you both before his eye settled on you.

“Have you now? You know, a few days ago I went to the Dawn Winery looking for you and Diluc seeing as Charles said you were going to be there.” Kaeya held up a letter from grandmaster Jean and waved it in the air idly. “I needed to deliver a letter from the active grandmaster to Diluc and hoped I’d run into you there and yet...I couldn’t find either of you.” Diluc frowned deeper and your smile began to fade slowly, your hand moved up casually to cover your mouth a bit and Kaeya’s smile grew as he went on. “So, I took it upon myself to look around given your maids told me you were in his study.” Diluc’s expression shifted from displeasure to pure annoyance. You were a bit nervous though wondering if you two had been found out already. You knew the answer in the back of your mind though. “When I couldn’t find you there I saw a maid walk out of the west wing hallway with blush staining her cheeks so, naturally I went that way and much to my surprise there you two were behind the semi closed doors to dear brothers bedroom-“ Diluc snatched the letter from his brother and narrowed his eyes. He stood up and narrowed his eyes at him.

“You finished ?” He asked, short tempered as always, you were a blushing mess on the other hand, with your face covered in attempts to hide your embarrassment. Of all the ways to be found out, it had to be Kaeya happening across you two at the Dawn Winery! Kaeya chuckled lightly and leaned back in the chair.

“Ah-Ah you interrupted me brother, I was just getting to the good part.” You peeked up at him and shook your head Dliuc let out and irritable sigh and turned his back to Kaeya and then looked over at you, a smile on his face one he’d only show to you really.

“I’ll see you later.” You nodded with a warmth to your cheeks as he walked off ignoring Kaeya all together. The three of you knowing Diluc was working tonight with you again. It left you two sitting there in a painful kind of silence where only one of you were inflicted and the other found it jovial.

“He must like you.” Kaeya sighed raising his wine glass to his lips, you glanced over at him with a slight glare and he smiled your way.

“Your point?” You retorted, it lead to him shrugging lightly as he finished the drink. He stood up, preparing to take his leave, moving to place a hand on his hip.

“None really, it’s just he got to you before I could.” Kaeya wouldn’t admit to him being beaten at his own game, he also wouldn’t voice at how it made him proud and happy for his brother at the same time. You looked at him with a straight face and he chortled. “You’ll make each other happy, especially with the sex you’re having. I’m not worried.” He patted your shoulder before he walked off in the opposite direction of his brother. Leaving you there blushing and with the future to think about, one where both you snd Diluc shared.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc x reader #I deadass had to open the game to describe the bar and where he was fucking you lmfaooo!!#I feel like Diluc is a great kisser bc Kaeya gave him tips on how to do it right randomly one day #like — Kaeya: You’re awkward with women so let me tell you how to kiss right Diluc: :/ go away #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

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yunverse · 2 years ago

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WHO IS IT HUH THE THREE LETTERED NAME IS YUI?! JAY ?! MOM HUH WHAT NAME IS IT IT COULD BE YOUR NAME SEI FOR ALL I KNOW

Also Nikis little fourth wall thing about calling it a romance novel is like got me thinking is yn ever going to leave for the real world? Are you gonna pull a bitchy move and it all be a dream? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE THEM TOGETHER AND THEN SPLIT THEM APART DUE TO BEING FROM DIFFERENT REALITIES?!??!!!? ARE YOU GOING TO BREAK MY HEART INTO TO MANY PIECES THAT CAN NEVER BE FIX?!?! SEI ARE YOU GOING TI BREAK MY HEART WI THE THIS SMAU LIKE YOU DID WITHT THAT HEESEUNG LOVE CLUB DONT FALL IN LOVE FIC ‼️❓BC YOU ALREADY GOT ME CHANGING MY OPINION ON HIN 24/7 LIKE IM NOW GIGOING AND SHIT JVER HEE IN THIS AU AM I GOING TO END UP CRYING BC OF HIM TOOO

Love you 🫶

HELPPP MILO IM CRYINNN,,,, OH BUT THREE WORDS, NOT SOMEONE WITH A THREE LETTER NAME 😏

Omg yesss abt the ending HAHAH,, DONT U WORRY IT WILL NOT BE "JUST A DREAM" TYPE BS 😭 I HATE THAT TROPE SO ;_;;; BUT I DO HAVE AN ENDING PLANNED OUT AND IM REALLY EXCITED TO WRITE IT! BUT STHWYWA NOT CUPIDS LAW NFIL ;_; THAT WAS JUST..... BUT ALL I'M GONNA SAY IS THAT I THINK YOU GUYS WILL LIKE IT (?) IDK AAAA

BUT QTQHQTQHQ I HOPE U ENJOYED THE FECENT CHAPTER ILYSM MWAH ♡

#— ( ♡ ) milo #🌸 — mutuals #asks : sbnchaos #✔️ reality check — (answered)

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ughseoks · 5 years ago

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i love you. | knj

— pairing; namjoon x reader / slice of life!au

— genre/rating; fluff / PG

— word count; 1.8k

— warnings; periods (joon buys tampons & brief mention of blood), allusions to pregnancy

— summary; a series of important moments in your life alongside namjoon.

this is a birthday gift for my wonderful, amazing, perfect friend @interludemoonchild! since it’s her special day, i wanted to write something i knew she’d like. that’s why i compiled all of the joonie drabble prompts she sent me a month or two ago into one singular story! i hope you enjoy, tay :) ilysm!

「 masterlist 」

going on a date with namjoon to an art gallery

On your first date with Namjoon, he took you to an art gallery.

At first, you’d been a little surprised-- art galleries weren’t the most common destinations for first dates. But any apprehension you’d previously felt had melted away almost immediately when Namjoon picked you up, his calm and caring nature immediately feeling like home.

As you perused the gallery, you didn’t share many of your thoughts, the silence of the building settling over the two of you like a blanket. Instead, you moved between the works alongside the taller man one by one quietly, spending more time staring at him than the art itself.

Something about him enraptured you. From the adorable dimples that appeared when he smiled to the way his boots clicked against the wooden floors, you were caught-- hook, line, and sinker. But more than anything, you were awestruck by the way he appreciated the art.

If you were being totally honest with yourself, you could never really appreciate art galleries the way others could. The art was undeniably beautiful, but you’d never had the special reaction that people often talked about-- the one that Namjoon was having. Every so often, he would stop in front of a piece, his eyes growing wide and his breath catching in his throat. He’d stare at it with stars in his eyes, mouth slightly open as the world faded around him, the world reduced to just himself and the work of art.

Without fail, he would look at you a minute later with a sharp turn of his head, apologizing with a shy smile every time it happened. You’d reassure him that you didn’t mind, and you weren’t lying. It was fascinating to watch, and something about the behaviour tugged at your heartstrings.

He’d taken you out for dinner later that night, ears turning red when he accidentally knocked his silverware off the edge of the table with a clang. You’d simply giggled, his clumsiness warming your heart just a little bit more.

When the night was over and the two of you were standing on your front porch, he’d awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red as he looked anywhere but you.

“I-- I had a really nice time tonight,” he’d admitted, finally making eye contact with you, “Maybe we could, uh, do this again sometime?”

A huge smile had crossed your lips at that, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, giggling when his face flushed completely red. “I’d love that, Namjoon.”

sending namjoon to the story to buy things and he’s a wreck, but gets through it with your help

You loved Namjoon. You really did. It’d been about six months since your first date, and you’d never been this happy in your life. Really.

But for someone so smart, he could be very, very stupid.

When you’d woken up that morning to terrible cramps and an almost empty stash of tampons, you’d sent him out on an errand. The task was simple: buy a box of tampons from the convenience store a few blocks away.

It really shouldn't have taken that long, but Namjoon was Namjoon, and he’d apparently never bought tampons before. So, there you were, practically on the brink of death as you texted your boyfriend instructions.

When he finally got home, you’d nearly cried in relief, heart bursting when you realized that he hadn’t only bought tampons-- he’d also bought a pack of Tim Horton’s kcups and a family sized box of honey bunches of oats.

“I knew these were your comfort foods, so I got some,” he’d commented, holding up the grocery bag in one hand with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I just wanted to make sure everything was right--”

He was cut off with an oomph when you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso in a bear hug. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, the fabric of his shirt becoming soaked with the salty drops.

“I love you,” you’d cried into his chest, your heart a few seconds away from exploding because of how much love you felt for the man in your arms, “I love you so, so much.”

He’d immediately dropped the bag and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a gentle squeeze as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, _____.”

helping namjoon cook because he’s a mess

“I have a movie request for tonight.”

“If it’s Wall-E, I’m revoking your movie suggesting privileges. We’ve watched it twice just this month.”

“I no longer have a movie request for tonight.”

Namjoon laughed at the pout on your face, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully before turning back to the stovetop. It was your second anniversary, and Namjoon had insisted on making you a romantic dinner from home.

At first, you’d protested-- after all, neither of you were very skilled in the cooking department. Your microwaved ramen incident had definitely proven that. But Joon reassured you that he wouldn’t burn the house down in the process, along with a promise to order takeout if his endeavors failed.

The dish of the night was simple, but classic: pasta. All he had to do was boil the water, wait for the noodles to cook, and let the sauce heat on the stove. There was almost nothing he could mess up if he simply followed the instructions word by word.

But alas, he was only Kim Namjoon, and thirty minutes later, you were watching Namjoon dip his fries in his shake, giving him a judgemental glare. If he noticed your distaste for his food combination choice, he didn’t comment, opting to press a salty kiss to your pouting lips instead.

playing in the rain with namjoon because he loves it

Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.

You lifted your gaze from the book in your hands, making direct eye contact with Namjoon as raindrops began to patter against the roof of your shared home. They grew louder and louder as the seconds passed, and just moments later, Namjoon grabbed your hand to drag you off of the couch.

Once you were outside, the raindrops kissed your hair and cheeks as you spun around, a childlike giggle falling from your smiling lips. Water splashed up against your red rain boots, the shiny rubber squeaking with each one of your twirls.

Normally, by this point, Namjoon would have already grabbed you around the waist, spinning you around before pressing a kiss to your rain-soaked hair. But after a few moments, you were still spinning alone, and the familiar giggle of your boyfriend nowhere to be heard.

Slowly coming to a stop, you turned your head in search of the familiar mop of brown hair, only to let out a small noise of confusion when you saw him kneeling before you. His baggy jeans were soaked where they pressed into the concrete, wet strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

He looked ethereal.

“Joonie?” you half-whispered, realization dawning on you as he pulled a small black box out of his drenched pocket. Tears began to mix with the raindrops slipping down your cheeks, your lower lip trembling as you tried to contain your sobs of happiness.

“____,” he exhaled, words barely audible over the downpour surrounding you. He tilted his head up to meet your gaze, peering up through his wet bangs to give you the most loving smile you’d ever seen. “I love the way you insist that pizza is pie. I love the way your eyes sparkle while gazing at nighttime cityscapes. I love the way you listen to salsa music until all of the songs begin to blend together. I love how you take care of me; how you pick up the broken pieces of glass without getting annoyed when I accidentally break something. I love you. You are my everything, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You couldn’t control your sobs anymore, shoulders shaking as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful engagement ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you settled for nodding enthusiastically, a grin spreading across Namjoon’s face in response. He immediately stood up from his spot on the ground, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a crushing hug.

Both of you were soaked from head to toe, but you couldn’t be happier when he slid the ring onto your finger, rain kissed lips moving against yours when you captured them in a tearful kiss.

namjoon being nervous about having his first kid thinking he's gonna hurt the poor baby but when he sees child his worries are gone

“Joonie,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Something’s bothering you. Talk to me.”

Your husband let out a long sigh before wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you onto his lap, nuzzling his head into your neck before mumbling. “Do you think I’m gonna be a good dad?”

“Of course,” you answered without hesitation, bringing a hand up and carding it through his soft brown locks.

“But I’m so clumsy,” he whispered. You could feel drops of liquid hitting your neck, your heart breaking when you realized he was crying. “What if I drop her? What if I assemble the crib wrong and she gets hurt? I’m just an accident waiting to happen. How can I possibly be responsible for another person? I can barely go a day without breaking something, _____. I’m destined to fail her.”

“Woah, woah,” you hushed softly, pulling back so you could wipe away the tears staining his cheeks, “Joonie, you’re psyching yourself out. You have nothing to worry about, baby. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”

“But--”

“Joon,” you pleaded, taking one of his hands and moving it so it was resting on your baby bump, “I have never believed in anything more than I believe in you. I know it’s scary-- even I’m nervous that I’ll fall short-- but you can’t give up before we’ve even tried. Once she’s here, everything will fall into place. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Hey sweetheart,” Namjoon exhaled, extending his hand out for his daughter to grab. She was beautiful, just like her mom.

Her little finger wrapped around his larger one, tears threatening to spill over as a huge smile spread across his face. Suddenly, all of his worries were gone, any trace of nervousness or fear replaced by an all-consuming love; the kind that felt like it might swallow you whole in the best way possible.

With you and your daughter by his side, he could do anything. He would do anything.

“It’s me. Dad.”

「 masterlist 」

#bangtanhq #armysource #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon imagine #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #xreader

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tickle-bugs · 4 years ago

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I Dot the I in Your Name with My Heart

Summary: Lunch breaks between classes lead Simone and Eleanor into the silliest not-quite-argument they’ve ever had. AU where they’re professors at the same University.

@peachytickles HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELOVED!!!! Ilysm you light up my life and my day. I hope your day is as incredible as you are. Have some Laid Ease as a present and I will continue to be annoying in your dms as a further gift <3

“Babe!” Eleanor threw open Simone’s door, adjusting the comically large satchel on her shoulder.

“Nope.” Simone didn’t look up from her computer. One day her wife would learn to knock. One day. Eleanor sighed, spun on her heel, and exited the office, grumbling under her breath all the while.

A cheery knock absolutely dripping with sarcasm sent Simone into a quiet fit of snickers.

“Dr. Garnett?” Simone could hear Eleanor roll her eyes from the other side of the door. She stifled her smile. The fact that their breaks aligned this semester was a true gift--though Simone did miss lurking in the back of Eleanor’s classroom like a high schooler waiting for her prom date.

“Come in.” Simone hid her face behind her computer monitor when Eleanor once again flung the door open.

“I’m gonna grab coffee. Want anything specific?” Eleanor pushed the door shut with her heel, cutting off Simone’s unspoken complaint by sticking out her tongue.

“I left you a sticky on your desk,” Simone frowned, fingers slowing on the keys.

“I couldn’t read it.”

“Wh--Eleanor.”

“Don’t Eleanor me. You have a horrible case of doctor handwriting.” She hung her satchel on one of the chairs in front of Simone’s desk. She rolled up the sleeves of her fraying sweater, continually stopping to untangle her wedding ring from the threads it pulled. Simone’s gaze lingered on her arms--clusters of freckles were starting to dust her pale skin. Cute.

“No I don’t. It’s perfectly legible.”

“Simone. Babe. Love of my life. Your handwriting is unreadable.” Eleanor pulled her clutch out of her satchel. She thumbed through it, lighting up at something in the overstuffed bag--probably her rewards card. She loved free stuff.

“Maybe you need to learn how to read.” Simone drew her brows together in a signature grumpy pout.

“What does this say?” Eleanor slid the sticky note across the desk and Simone snatched it. God, she must’ve been in a rush because her handwriting looped way more than usual. Did that say carnival? Caravan? Shit.

“Obviously...this says…”

“Oh my god. You can’t read it?” Eleanor came around the desk to lean over Simone’s shoulder. Her warm hands slid around Simone’s arms and she leaned subtly back into the embrace.

“Shut up! I totally can. It says…”

“I’m waiting.” Eleanor laughed softly into her ear and Simone’s cheeks grew embarrassingly warm.

“Why do you bully me like this?” Simone whined. Eleanor pecked her on the lips with that insufferable grin and a fluttery warmth nestled in her chest.

“You make it easy. Caramel frappé?” Eleanor brushed her thumb over Simone’s cheekbone.

“Don’t forget the muffin. Love you.” Simone squeezed her hand.

“Mhm.” Eleanor squeezed back, letting Simone’s fingers trail over her palm as she pulled away. Simone yanked her back, using the momentum to tug Eleanor down for a kiss. She looked up at her expectantly until Eleanor smiled.

“Love you too,” She sighed fondly, adorning Simone’s forehead with a light lipstick print that she then carefully thumbed away. She drifted out the door, blowing kisses like a celebrity bidding farewell to her adoring entourage, and Simone returned to her work, a silly smile etched upon her lips.

The waiting time flew by rather unremarkably--silence triggered a meditative, boundless focus in her that she could nurture into a completed to-do list, if she was precise about it. Her focus tended to veer like a first-time driver, but she’d gotten rather skilled at placing tasks in the way of her swerving brain. Eleanor’s presence usually helped her stay on track, unless she was doing something distracting, like holding a piece of paper three inches from her face.

“What’s that?” Simone leaned around her monitor to get a better look at her wife.

“Our grocery list. Tahani showed me this delivery thing for the grocery store near campus. Figured we could try it out.” Eleanor held the slip of paper closer, squinting between it and her equidistant phone screen as if it contained the universe’s untranslated secrets.

“Why are you looking at it like that?”

“...No reason.” Eleanor put it down on the desk, trying to read normally, but she was never good at hiding her emotions. Or her ‘I can’t understand this’ squint. Simone narrowed her eyes until Eleanor felt compelled to speak.

“It’s your handwriting. It’s just so…” Eleanor trailed off, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, but her hand kept looping and twirling until she’d drawn the world’s most complicated pretzel in the air.

“So what?” Simone knew what she was trying to say, but she wanted to hear it out loud.

“Listen, the data is against you. So many doctors have bad handwriting.” Eleanor patted her hand across the desk, a cheeky grin dancing on her lips.

“Say that again.” Simone narrowed her eyes.

“Doctors have bad handwriting?”

“Eleanor, it’s data, not data.” Simone moved around the desk and sat next to Eleanor. She pulled her chair close, so their knees touched, and eyed Eleanor while she committed a crime against linguistics.

“That’s what I said.”

“Say it slowly.”

“Dah. Tah.” Eleanor frowned.

“No.” Simone held her face between her hands and squished her cheeks.

“What do you mean, no? That’s how you say it. Data.” Eleanor’s voice came out a little muffled but she didn’t seem bothered.

“Okay, Elle-ee-ay-nor.” Simone rolled her eyes, dragging out every vowel to the point of extinction. Eleanor pulled Simone’s hands away from her face and held them in her own.

“Now the data suggests that you’re being mean.”

“Am I being mean or are you being American?” Simone booped her nose and Elly wrinkled it, eyes crossing for a moment while she tracked the offending finger.

“It’s not your fault y’know. Your snipsnaps are misfiring, so you don’t have fine muscle control. So, your handwriting is bad and you don’t know how to pronounce data.” Eleanor booped her back, all smug grins, and Simone promptly decided that only she was allowed a monopoly on mischief.

“Snip--y’know what? That’s it.” Simone pulled Eleanor into her arms, catching her with an oof. Eleanor went to make a flirtatious joke--Simone could see the gears turning in her head--but it died on her tongue when Simone’s nimble fingers pressed into her stomach.

“You owe me a handful of apologies, Dr. Shellstrop, because your handwriting is no better.”

“M-my penmanship is--no!”

“I agree, actually. You are not immune to doctor handwriting, ma’am. Your equations are adorably messy.” Simone squeezed up and down her sides, pulling the squeakiest, most endearing giggles from her. God, she was so cute.

“You’re adorably--”

“Thanks, babe. I know.” Simone grinned, fingers mapping every inch of the slight-plushness around her waist. Eleanor growled through her next bout of laughter.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” She yanked on Simone’s immovable hands until they slowed.

“Good.”

“Your handwriting is...unique and I love it.” Eleanor draped her arms over Simone’s shoulders. Simone better secured her arms around Eleanor’s waist, pulling her close.

“Nice save. But what else are you sorry for?” Simone eyed her expectantly and sighed at the silence.

“Let’s just say I forgive you for tainting my office with ‘dah-tah’. What is the structure that lets nerve cells pass signals called?” Simone raised her brow. Eleanor knew this. Simone knew that she knew. She’d taught her herself.

“Snipsnap.” Eleanor nodded sagely.

“Synapse.”

“That’s what I said.” Eleanor pouted--pouted!

“Try again.” Simone murmured, peppering fluttery kisses along her throat. Lovely, panicked giggles bubbled out of her, taking their rightful place between every breath.

“Spintaps?”

“Ooh, almost got it. One more try.” Simone buried a laugh in Eleanor’s neck, her hands sliding upwards to latch onto Eleanor’s ribs. That really kicked things up a notch--Eleanor went from cutesy giggles to borderline screeching, unable to decide whether she was clinging to Simone for dear life or trying to run from her. She kicked her legs, heels drumming against the chair leg, and Simone snuck in a few cheeky squeezes to her exposed knees.

“Slimcats? Syntax? Synapse!” She squealed, finally deciding on shoving Simone’s face away. She was nearly horizontal now, using the last of her core strength not to fall over the chair’s armrest and have a most unpleasant reunion with the floor.

“I’m so proud of you.” Simone rebalanced her with a strong hand across her shoulder blades, pulling her close with a shit-eating grin. Eleanor huffed, but a few airy chuckles found their way out with it.

“Shut up. I should tickle you while you try to do calculus. See how you like it.” Eleanor swatted her shoulder.

“I love you so much.” Simone singsonged, looking up at Eleanor through her lashes.

“Mhm. I love you too. Even when you bully me.”

“Bullying? I prefer ‘showering my wife with love.’” Simone rested her cheek on Eleanor’s bicep, puckering her lips until Eleanor leaned down to meet her.

“Bullying. I forgive you, though.” Eleanor pinched her nose until Simone made a nasally ‘waah’ sound that left both of them wheezing. Eleanor reluctantly scooped up her satchel at the chime of her phone--time for class, unfortunately.

“See you later.” Simone smiled. Eleanor slid her a yellow sticky note, folded into quarters, and winked on her way out the door. Simone unfolded it--in tight, coiled letters, Eleanor had left her a note.

I love you, sunshine.

Aw. She married a sap--a sap who dotted her ‘i’s with hearts, no less.

Simone stuck the sticky note to the framed photo of Eleanor that she kept on her desk, smoothing out the adhesive until she was certain it would cling. The picture was starting to get covered now, but the notes adorning the frame were just as important as the contents. She brushed her thumb over the frame and returned to work, Eleanor’s laughter lingering in her ears all the while.

#my fics #the good place #elmone #ticklish!eleanor #Eleanor Shellstrop #simone garnett #theyre MARRIED #no fr I dug this from the depths of the server like a gay little geologist unearthing precious gems...'yes...finally..all according to plan'

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celestialmark · 5 years ago

Text

Solitude - Part 5 (finale)

Characters: Mark Lee x reader, members of nct

Category: sniper! mark, mafia au

Word count: 15.8K

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death, blood, violence, drugs, guns.

Author’s note: hello hi! it’s been soooooo long, how are you guys? I hope you’re well and healthy! so after how many months of working on this series, I am so happy to share to you the final part! I'm so sorry for the wait, life really does come at you full blast at times hahaha but I had so much fun writing this series as a whole and I just want to thank you for patiently waiting for each part to come out regardless of how long it took me to write it ;; thank you so much for journeying with me and the characters throughout the whole five parts! all that’s left is the epilogue now! I do hope you enjoy it! and once again, thank you all so much <3 ilysm!!!

“What happened?”

Mark is the first to come through the door that’s barely hanging off its hinge. He sees Taeil pacing back and forth the hallway, phone in his hand, his distraught eyes scanning all the furniture that’s broken to pieces and overthrown to the floor. Johnny and Jeno are the ones to follow after, walking past Mark and examining the damage behind Taeil.

“Mark!” Taeil exclaims. Mark can see his fingers shaking. “They, they took her. She’s gone.”

“Who took her?” Mark asks calmly just as Johnny and Jeno fall beside him. He’s trying to stay calm but on the inside, Mark is anything but calm knowing you were somewhere they didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” Taeil says weakly, his voice faltering. “I woke up and y/n wasn’t in her room anymore.”

Jeno looks upwards and scans the entirety of Taeil’s house. “Do you have CCTV around the house?”

Taeil is quick to nod, “I do. But they destroyed the cameras too. I’m not sure if there’s anything there.”

“Can we have a look?” Johnny asks.

Taeil leads Johnny and Jeno away while Mark makes a conscious decision to stay behind and look around the place a bit more. In his mind, he’s already pointing fingers to potential suspects but he knows he can’t act without solid evidence first. His thoughts drift to you as he steps over the remnants of the damage, feeling worried all of a sudden with the thought of you being scared.

Mark bends down when a shattered picture frame catches his attention. When he picks it up, carefully removing the broken shards of glass, you’re the first one he sees on the picture, along with Taeil who’s grinning widely beside you, an arm slung around your shoulder. There’s a date stamped on the bottom left corner and from what he recalls, it’s the date of your birthday. You look so happy in the photo, your smile travelling to reach your eyes and it saddens him that the last memory he has of you, was when you gave him a sad smile yesterday, both of you unknowing and unsure of what’s ahead.

“That was the last birthday she ever celebrated before her parents died,” Taeil pipes up from behind Mark when he sees him holding the photo. He bends down beside Mark, smiling somberly. “The last time I’ve seen her smile like that too.”

Mark’s heart clenches at the thought of you having to go through so much suffering in the absence of your only family. You had such a blinding smile in the photo, it literally pains him to think that even that, had been taken away from you.

“She’s been through so much,” he says quietly, feeling too helpless and clueless of where even to start.

“You know,” Taeil starts, averting his eyes from the photo and onto Mark. “Yesterday, she told me what happened I felt really relieved when she said she’d found her soulmate and that her soulmate was you.”

Mark looks at Taeil. “Taeil, I almost killed her.”

“But you didn’t,” Taeil corrects and he smiles. “Mark, do you know the exact percentage of the amount of people who get to meet their soulmate?”

Mark blinks.

“A little less than forty percent,” Taeil points out. “Even though we’re all pretty much born with one, with a mark on our skin, it doesn’t guarantee we get to meet them. Hell, I’ve never even met mine and I don’t think I’ll ever will.”

“But you…” Taeil pauses and claps a palm on Mark’s back. “You’ve found yours. You’ve found her,”

“And I find great comfort in that because there’s someone out there who will for sure look after her for the rest of her life.” Taeil stands and extends a hand out to Mark who takes it, pulling him up.

“You’re the closest thing to family she has left, Mark.”

On the return to the loft, Mark is the last to enter when Johnny and Jeno lead the way with Taeil trailing right behind them. Mark is about to enter the door when someone grabs a hold of his arm and pulls him backwards. What meets him next is a hard fist to his cheek causing his whole body to sway to the side, a groan coming from his throat. His head spins momentarily and when he regains his balance with much difficulty, he sees Donghyuck who’s in the middle of swinging another fist at him, this time landing on his other cheek, sending him flying to the opposite direction. Mark grunts lowly again, feeling his lower lip split open. His fingers fly up to examine the damage and it comes in contact with his blood, the stinging on either of his cheeks so raw and painful. It’s expected, Donghyuck had always been the strongest one when it came to physical fights.

Mark doesn’t get enough time to process the whole situation fully when Donghyuck grabs him by the collar of his shirt, hauling him until his face is mere inches away. “How dare you fucking betray Taeyong?” he hisses. “What’s gotten into you Mark Lee?”

Johnny rushes back outside when he hears the commotion, immediately breaking the two apart. “Hey quit it!” He blocks Donghyuck from Mark, who’s panting from the blows, still trying to recover from the impact of Donghyuck’s fists.

“You have no sense of loyalty whatsoever you traitor!” Donghyuck growls, trying to push past Johnny, pointing an accusing finger at Mark. “After all that Taeyong’s done for you!”

“Donghyuck stop it,” Johnny advises as politely as he can. Donghyuck may be strong, but Johnny was definitely stronger.

Donghyuck gasps for air, his screaming not ending soon, “And all for what? For a girl? For a pathetic girl who’s going to die anyway? Wake up Mark! She’s not worth—”

“Donghyuck she’s my soulmate,” Mark interferes quietly, eyes imploring his angry ones, hoping he would somehow understand, hoping that his best friend out of all people would console him.

But he doesn’t.

Donghyuck frowns and attempts to push past Johnny again but to no avail, “What the fuck? That’s the reason why you turned your back on Taeyong? That’s a lousy excuse. That doesn’t mean anything! She’s still supposed to die—”

Mark doesn’t hold back, walking up to Donghyuck and swatting Johnny’s arm away in the process. With Mark’s already balled fist, he swings back and lands a forceful blow on his face. Still, Mark isn’t content, giving Donghyuck another blow when Donghyuck stumbles backwards. Mark is about to swing again if it wasn’t for Johnny who has to use all his might to pull the younger back. Mark is fuming and Johnny can feel it in the way his chest rises and falls heavily along with the shaking of his shoulders.

“You don’t know shit Donghyuck!” Mark roars. “You can’t say shit about me or y/n when you have no fucking clue what’s happening!”

Donghyuck spits blood to the side, his eyes glowering as they fall on Mark. “Look how pitiful you’ve become Mark,” he gestures at his friend, scoffing at him as he rests his hands on either side of his hips. “You think saving a girl will make your life a whole lot better? What did you say? A soulmate? How fucking ridiculous.”

Jeno and Taeil emerge from the doorway and watch the scene unfold quietly. Donghyuck catches sight of Jeno and scoffs once more, shaking his head, “And you’ve gotten Jeno to join you in the dumb ordeal.”

Donghyuck turns around to leave, but not before sparing one last look at Mark and the rest,

“Good luck to you, bastard.”

“Based on the footage caught in Taeil’s CCTV just moments before they destroyed it, it was definitely Kun’s doing,” Jeno announces, spreading out screenshots from the CCTV footage onto the coffee table minutes after the commotion outside settles.

Mark studies the pictures and frowns, “How do you know that? These guys are masked.” He switches from one picture to another until he comes across a blurry screenshot of an unmasked Kun in the middle of trying to make his way into Taeil’s house.

“What do these people want from y/n?” Taeil, who’s sitting on the couch asks, frowning at the pictures.

“Revenge,” Jeno replies curtly.

A sudden lightbulb goes off in Mark’s head. “Taeil, y/n’s mentioned how she was nearly stabbed before, if it wasn’t for you. What happened that day?”

Taeil nods and shivers as he recalls the memory. “I was supposed to pick up something from her house when I found her front door open which was really unusual because she always made sure to extra lock her doors for safety ever since she began getting threats. I went in and found someone with a knife literally metres away from her. When the stranger realised I was there, he ran away but not before slashing me with his knife.” Taeil lifts the hem of his shirt until a scar located to the side of his lower abdomen comes into view for the three to see.

Johnny grimaces as Mark forms a fist.

“Can you remember what he looked like? What he was wearing?” Johnny questions.

Taeil taps his chin with his index finger, “He was wearing all black, really tall guy. We couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a hood too. But I did see a tattoo of a wolf all over his middle finger.”

Jeno frantically types away in his laptop the moment Taeil finishes talking and not even three seconds later, he’s already turning his laptop around so that the three can see his screen. “It was Lucas.” On the screen shows a picture of Lucas as well as the tattoo Taeil described on the said finger.

“Lucas is under Kun,” Johnny explains to Taeil. “Kun was the person behind the death threats.”

“For what reason?” Taeil questions.

“Y/n’s parents owed him a lot of money,” Jeno says, returning his laptop in its original position in front of him. “Same goes for Taeyong and the main reason why a lot of people are after her life.”

“So does that mean one of them is behind the murder of y/n’s parents?”

Mark shakes his head, “Not sure. It’s not Taeyong. And we don’t have evidence Kun did it.”

Jeno pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Wait. You said Yuta wanted y/n as well right? In exchange for the proposed deal?” Mark nods. “Did he give you a time limit or some sort?”

“A week.”

“From what Jeno has been telling me about this guy, I don’t think he’s the type to sit around and do nothing for a whole week,” Johnny suggest, crossing his arms just as his brows knit together in utter concentration. “You’re sure Kun’s behind y/n’s kidnapping?”

Jeno nods and firmly and gestures to the pictures, “Taeil’s CCTV says so.”

“And who is this Yuta guy?” Taeil asks, dumbfounded, scratching and tilting his head upwards.

“Some mafia guy from Japan who also happens to want y/n’s life,” Johnny replies with a frustrated sigh, nothing was adding up.

Taeil’s eyes widen, “Just exactly how many different people are after y/n?”

“Just the people we’ve mentioned,” Jeno answers and clucks his tongue after, “So far.”

Mark suddenly stands up from the couch and grabs his jacket in the process. Taeil and Jeno watch him and when he’s about to walk past Johnny, the elder stops him from going further by placing a hand across his chest.

“Woah, where are you going?”

“Kun’s,” Mark replies. “I want to see if she’s there.”

“Are you crazy? We don’t even know where they’ve kept her,” Johnny reasons, brows knitting together in the middle. “They wouldn’t keep her somewhere so obvious, Mark. Why don’t we do a little more research.”

“Johnny, I have to start somewhere,” Mark defends, eyes hard. “Every second that passes is making me worry so much it’s making me crazy.”

Johnny nods understandingly and drops his arm, “Okay but let’s not act so irrationally. We have to—“

“Johnny, I have to go,” Mark insists. “I have to know she’s okay.. I, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”

Johnny sighs and nods after a few seconds of finally giving in, “Let me go with you at least.”

You’re hungry, thirsty and beyond exhausted. You don’t even know what time of the day it is or where you are because of the blindfold that’s been covering your eyes the moment you were snatched out of your bed this morning. There’s fear running through your veins as a bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face, too helpless to do anything with your hands tied harshly to your back with a rope that feels painfully aggressive on your skin. You couldn’t even scream for help, the cloth tied around your head to cover your mouth, feels too bitter on your tongue. But what you do know is that you’re in a moving vehicle, in a corner of what you imagine to be a container van, the occasional bumps along the round making you sway in your seat. But more than fear, you’re preparing yourself for the worst, for the probability of the end because you’ve been running for as long as you can remember and at this point,

you just wanted it all to stop.

Someone grabs you by the shoulders when the van comes to a complete halt. There’s indistinct yelling in the distance but you don’t make out the words, the growing pains in your body you didn’t notice before, becoming too prominent it makes you groan involuntarily as you’re forced to stand. You’re led out the van and when your feet comes in contact with the ground, you hear multiple footsteps coming in all directions.

“Bring her to the back,” one of them says and your head immediately snaps to its direction before you’re being pulled away again. Whoever was clutching on to your arm, was definitely not the most gentle, their grip on you sure to leave marks on your skin later or maybe even bruises. The more you squirmed under their hold to signal how uncomfortable it’s becoming, the more they seemed to clutch you tighter.

You know you’ve reached your destination when the stranger shoves you away from them, finally letting you go. The sound of the door shutting rings in your ears and not long after, you hear the door being locked. With no concrete plan in mind, you walk around aimlessly, hoping to find at least something, or even just get a feel of where you are. Minutes of shuffling only bring you to a conclusion that you’re most likely in an empty desolate room with the lack of furniture you thought you were going to bump into, only ever coming in contact with walls in all directions you’ve possibly covered.

You heave a sigh, falling to the ground when the exhaustion catches up to you. You scoot blindly until your back comes in contact with the nearest wall, your shoulders drooping instantly when it relieves the pressure. You’re panting, the energy left in you becoming depleted with each passing second and you’re sure you’ll pass out soon, the subtle ache in your head beginning to pound against your skull.

The click of the lock becoming undone awakens your senses with the door emitting a screech as it opens following a second after. Your head is directed straight ahead and you vaguely estimate the door’s located to your right, judging from the footsteps that are coming from that direction and towards you.

You feel someone in front of you and they say nothing when they’re reaching for your mouth cover, pulling it down until it falls around your neck to set your mouth free.

“Who are you?” You demand, your throat dry and your voice hoarse from not having spoken all day. You know you’re not going to get an answer though and your futile attempts of trying to guess who’s behind all of this becomes tossed aside when they don’t speak to answer your question. Instead, you feel fingers graze your chin, tilting it upwards. You feel the tip of what you guess is a bottle touching your lips.

“Water,” they say, voice low and deep and you know it’s belonging to a man. You down the water straight after, the temporary hydration making you feel a little better. He lets go shortly after he’s sure you’ve had enough. You hear him move away from you then but you feel his lingering presence, eyes on your helpless state.

He says nothing more, the only sound getting lost in the suffocating air being the door shutting and locked.

“Renjun?”

Almost everyone’s heads in the room follow where Mark is looking the moment he calls out the said person’s name. Renjun is there, standing awkwardly by the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he grows too conscious by everyone’s questioning eyes.

“H-hi,” Renjun utters quite lowly, a complete contrast to his usual demeanour that exuded confidence.

Mark tears his eyes off Renjun and shifts his attention to Jeno who had been staring at Renjun just a few moments ago before redirecting his focus to his laptop. “We could do with a bit of help,” Jeno mutters when he feels Mark’s eyes linger on him.

“Wow, you knew about this too?” Renjun asks when he sits beside Johnny. Johnny nods and ruffles the younger’s hair with a brotherly smile. Renjun’s eyes fall on the stranger sitting across him, “Renjun.”

“Taeil.”

“So I’m guessing Taeyong told you guys?” Mark asks cautiously, still pacing back and forth the floorboards in poor attempts to keep calm.

Renjun nods, “Yeah. He isn’t happy. Which is expected, I mean, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What about the others?” Jeno questions.

Renjun shrugs, “Donghyuck stormed off to somewhere and Jaemin… I don’t know where he is. I tried to get him to come here.”

Johnny points at Mark, an unamused expression on his face, “Well, Donghyuck stormed here and punched Mark a few times.”

Renjun blinks, “Sounds like him.” He leans forward and laces his hands together as he rests his elbows on his thighs. “So what’s your plan?” he directs the question to Mark who takes a moment to stop his legs from taking further steps, contemplating Renjun’s question too hard.

“None yet,” Johnny answers when Mark doesn’t.

Renjun raises a brow, “None? That doesn’t sound like you,” he genuinely sounds confused, still directing his words to Mark. “You always have a plan.”

At a loss for words, the silence drags on for seconds, everyone now blinking up at Mark. Johnny and Jeno silently agree with Renjun, thinking back to all the times Mark had conjured up excellent plans even under pressure and even under lives were at stake. Mark knows Renjun is right and the lack of concrete plans even after hours of brainstorming proves how much he fears for your life; any wrong move, and it can cost everything he’s trying to protect.

And even when Mark doesn’t say anything, just excuses himself to get some fresh air, Renjun understands. And so does Johnny and Jeno when they see the confusion and dread in Mark’s eyes before he leaves. Renjun releases a sigh. In all the years he’s known Mark, never has he seen the member be so stuck in a predicament and now that he’s confronted with a Mark who appears so helpless, he isn’t so sure what he can do to help ease the burden on his shoulders. Renjun runs a hand through his hair in frustration before staring directly at Jeno.

“Okay, so what do we have so far?”

Jeno and Renjun are discussing amongst themselves with the occasional pitch in of ideas from Johnny and Taeil, their chatters resonating in Mark’s loft along with the tapping of Jeno on his keyboard. Johnny takes it upon himself to begin sketching helpful diagrams and notes they would find useful in the future while Renjun and Taeil analyse the situation over and over again while trying to think of potential events that could go wrong once they do try and attack.

All of this comes to a halt when someone, Jaemin, bursts through the door in a panic. Renjun can already tell Jaemin is going to bring nothing but bad news by the way he’s panting and from the distraught on his face.

“They have Donghyuck.”

Kun is smirking when he sees his desired target sitting helplessly on the chair before him, hands tied to the back to render him powerless and defenceless. Donghyuck’s face is dotted with bruises, glaring up at Kun the moment he was forcefully pushed down to take a seat. Kun’s smirk grows wider by the second, taking too much pleasure in the defeat of the enemy in front of him.

“We can do this the easy way,” Kun announces menacingly, “Or the hard way if you choose not to cooperate.”

Hendery, Lucas and Sicheng are standing behind Kun, watching the scene before them unfold. Hendery and Lucas are enjoying just as much as Kun is, having been the ones who had made all of this possible.

Donghyuck stays silent on the chair, the loathing in his orbs intensifying, his hands behind his back twitching and aching to land a fist to Kun’s face.

“Alright, let’s get started shall we?”

Kun circles Donghyuck’s chair once, an arm folded across his chest while he uses the other to tap a finger on his chin. “How much has Yuta offered Taeyong in exchange for that arms and drugs deal?”

Donghyuck doesn’t bat an eyelash nor does his features give way no matter how surprising it might have been for him for Kun to have some knowledge about their overseas affairs.

“Well?” Kun asks a moment after when silence ensues, bending down to meet Donghyuck’s eye level. Donghyuck’s eyes are seething and it only heightens Kun’s amusement. Kun doesn’t hesitate though, delivering a forceful blow on Donghyuck’s left cheek, making the hostage swing to the side.

“You asked for the hard way, you’re getting the hard way.” Kun straightens up briefly, rubbing his knuckles with his palm. “I’ll ask you again,” his voice rigid. “How much did Yuta offer?”

Donghyuck raises a brow and spits out blood pooling in his mouth from the punch before smirking up at Kun, “And how come you just can’t seem to ever mind your own business?”

Kun clenches his teeth and strikes at Donghyuck again, this time on his stomach, making him groan in agony yet still managing to smirk afterwards. No way was Donghyuck going to give Kun the satisfaction of seeing him suffer no matter how many blows he was going to get.

“What is it? Too incompetent to even get that info without needing to take one of us hostage?” Donghyuck challenges, as the corner of his lip begin to swell. A mocking laugh emits from his mouth after, “How pathetic,” he grins but his eyes piercing. “As usual.”

Kun is about to come for him again when he stops himself, realising how easily he’s been biting Donghyuck’s accusations. He takes a step back, a stoic expression finding appearing on his face as his brow arches upwards, “Alright, let me change the question.”

Donghyuck narrows his eyes at him.

Kun grins.

“How much did Yuta offer for y/n?”

You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, for who knows how long, until you’re being jolt awake with the feeling of someone bumping into you. You gasp in horror as the stranger groans beside you, doubling over in pain after he’s thrown to the ground.

“Wait!” he yells rather loudly as he scrambles in his spot and what you hear next is the door being slammed shut again. You scoot away from him, suddenly feeling extremely cautious of the unknown man in the same room as you. Though you figure he’s being held captive just as you were.

“Y/n?” he calls out toward the direction you’re resting yourself against the wall which, apparently isn’t too far from where he is despite your efforts to move away. You jump in your spot slightly at the sound of your name being called. It’s a voice you’ve never heard before. It wasn’t Johnny and most definitely not Mark.

You listen as he scrambles again, trying to pull your hands apart in hopes of snapping the rope into two so that you could defend yourself for the danger you felt was about to come your way. Your efforts are in vain and before you know it, you feel his presence right next to you. You hold your breath as your heart hammers against your ribs, preparing yourself for the worst.

“One sec,” he mumbles and even when his voice comes across as reassuring, you don’t let go of the breath you’re holding. You feel him move even closer to you and you grow weary with the way you feel his breath tickle your skin. You feel him swerve away from your face and settle onto the side of your head as you stay completely still, too scared to even move an inch. But then it dawns on you what he’s doing when your blindfold is lifted away from your eyes, the faint light of the bulb above, too harsh on your eyesight for a few seconds.

A moment passes and you’re successful in readjusting your vision to your surroundings. That’s when your eyes land on the person in the same room as you, dropping your blindfold to the ground, that had been in between his teeth seconds prior. His hair is messy, strands sticking out in all directions and face mottled with bruises and cuts, hands tied to his back in the same way as you. He looks like he’s about to pass out anytime soon with the way he’s panting hard to catch his breath but he doesn’t, only stares at you.

“Shit, you really are alive,” he says, eyes growing wide.

You frown, trying to add bits and pieces together from his statement but nothing’s coming to mind, the possibility of who he might be, too wide. “W-who are you?”

The boy with brown hair opens his mouth but doesn’t speak and you know he’s hesitating. You have a small inkling that he knows you too well than you might have expected. “Donghyuck,” he answers not too long after.

You don’t even need more than a second to remember who he is. This guy is one of the people who wants you killed. No wonder he looked oddly familiar, you had caught a glimpse of him at the day of your shooting and he was the one beside Mark in that photo you came across. Instinctively, you move further away from him, the thought of what he could do to you right now drilling into your head despite the tie around his hands.

“You know who I am?” he asks carefully, eyes too gentle to even want to kill you at this moment.

You nod slowly, “You were there, when I was shot.”

Donghyuck blinks and confirms your answer with a nod of his head. You watch as he scans you from head to toe wearily and slowly. “Did, did they hurt you?”

You don’t remember criminals to be this concerned about their target’s wellbeing but then you remember how Mark and Jeno proved you wrong. Donghyuck sounds genuinely concerned and he doesn’t stop searching your body for any signs of injuries even when you eye him in suspicion, too doubtful of his kindness. “No, they didn’t.” You swear you see him sign in relief.

“Why are you here?” You ask, not really sure whether he heard you or not with how quiet your voice came out that originally intended. “And what happened to your face?”

Donghyuck grins mockingly, “Kun’s boys don’t exactly like me.”

“Wait, this is Kun’s doing?” you ask, finally getting an answer to what you’ve been pondering ever since your abduction.

Donghyuck nods, then raises a brow. “How do you know Kun?”

“Kun is after my life,” you reply curtly. “That’s why I’m here.”

Donghyuck raises a brow, “How did Kun find out you’re alive?”

You shrug your shoulders, “No idea. Jeno says it’s got something to do with Kun tailing you guys’ backs since day one.”

Donghyuck smirks again, “Well, we take pride in that.” The smirk disappears just as fast as it appears when he leans forward. “Wait, why does Kun want you killed?”

“Apparently my parents owe him money. It’s for the same reason as Taeyong. Revenge, they said.” He nods slowly then, letting all of it make sense in his head. “Donghyuck, what day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Woah, okay I’ve been here for a day.”

“Yeah, I heard the guys are going crazy trying to figure out how to get you out of here,” Donghyuck points out, looking around the empty room.

“Guys?”

“Johnny, Jeno and Mark.”

You think of Mark then, your heart clenching at the reminder of missing him.

Donghyuck smiles at you when he catches you blinking into nothing.

“No worries, y/n. We’re going to get out of here, I know how.”

Jaemin and Renjun are busy trying to develop a plan on how to get you and Donghyuck back with Jeno and Taeil in the living room while Mark has excused himself out of their sight to give himself time and space to think and re-evaluate the whole situation. Nothing is making sense and it’s making his head ache, the pounding of his brain against his skull only worsening with the mere thought of your life in danger. He doesn’t remember ever feeling this worried nor determined to save someone else’s life, not even the guys. It’s an unusual feeling for him, foreign almost, to put someone else’s safety and life before his own. All Mark remembers ever feeling is the sheer conviction of staying alive from all the other times he’s been so close to actually losing his life.

He figures he’s fought greatly up until now so he could save yours.

Mark lower his head from staring up at the sky in his conservatory when he feels a presence step in his space. He finds Johnny beside him, an ice pack held out in his hand. “Gotta look after yourself too before you can save y/n.”

Mark musters a small smile as he takes the ice pack from Johnny, thoughts of you making him momentarily forget about the hard blows he received earlier in the day. When the cold finally sinks in his skin, he feels relief wash over him for the first time ever since you were gone and it soothes the pain on his cheeks he didn’t even notice until now.

“She must really mean a whole lot to you, huh,” Johnny says, looking straight out the window.

Mark snaps his head to the side and finds Johnny smiling slightly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. Mark redirects his gaze ahead when he repeats his words in his head a few times to grasp what they mean. “I.. I guess.”

“I don’t think I've ever seen you this worked up about anything, anyone before,” Johnny adds, his tone friendly and coated with ease, an utter contrast to how Mark has been all day. “It’s... good to see.”

Mark raises a brow but lets out a scoff, “Y/n being in danger isn’t good to see, Johnny.”

Johnny finds the strength to laugh, trying his best to lift the younger’s mood, knowing painfully well just what he's feeling. “I meant seeing you care for someone else this much is good to see.”

Mark lowers the ice pack from his face and purses his lips as he dips his head low, his eyes now meeting the floor. Johnny’s right. Mark felt it. The short span of time he isn’t around you is enough proof of that. And he knows it’s not just because you’re his soulmate, though it’s somewhat a big part of the reason.

“Y/n... I don’t know,” Mark begins although unsure of what to say next. “Just, I just, I feel the need to protect her you know? No, I want to protect her. And it’s not just because I’m the reason why she’s in this mess, even though that’s a part of it too. I just, I,” Mark stops to catch a breath when he feels the words getting caught in is throat. He lifts his head upwards before exhaling, “I just, want to keep her safe. By all means. Even if it costs my life. And I can’t think about anything else but her, and getting her out of there.”

Mark shakes his head after he utters his final sentence, wondering just when he began to feel this way. “Is this what soulmates do to you?”

Johnny chuckles with a shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe.”

Mark rolls his eyes and nudges Johnny’s side with his elbow. “Thanks for the advice.”

Johnny falls silent, his thoughts taking him to Ari, a sudden gush of longing overtaking him. He smiles fondly to himself at the thought of her, at the realisation of seeing himself in Mark when he was once put in a similar situation some time back. He remembers how good it felt, how exhilarating everything had become and how everything appeared a lot more colourful somehow whenever Ari was around.

“I think,” Johnny smiles wider at the memory of Ari smiling at him blissfully, “It doesn’t take much for you to eventually feel like you’ve lost all control. One day, you’re living your life normally like you always do, and then the next, it all changes, everything you thought you knew, you’re suddenly questioning.”

Johnny turns to Mark who’s now staring at him with curious eyes, “We’re all born with a soulmate and beyond our reasoning and understanding, it just... happens, loving them becomes second nature even before we know it.”

Mark half smiles, his thoughts drifting to you as Johnny speaks, feeling the words fit all too well. “I think it’s crazy how the universe works sometimes.. How can it just know, how can it just know Y/n is the one for me from the beginning.”

“There will always be things we will never understand and sometimes, I think, not knowing is better,” Johnny smiles again, “We just gotta be thankful.. To be given someone in this lifetime you feel in your bones you will love for the rest of your life.”

Mark runs a hand through his hair and lets out another chuckle, “I don’t even know if she feels the same. She probably hates me right now after all that’s happened.”

“So you love her?”

Mark blinks.

Then he turns to Johnny again, a frown now evident on his face, “Do soulmates guarantee.. that the other feels the same?”

Johnny laughs, feeling all too relieved to lift Mark’s spirits up briefly during such a challenging time. “There’s only one way to find out Mark.”

Mark’s shoulders droop almost instantly at the reminder of your absence and at the reminder of the impending danger if he didn’t act soon. Johnny sees it and senses the younger’s anxiety shoot up even more. He claps a palm to Mark’s back, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

“We’ll save her, alright?” Johnny reassures, earning a small smile from Mark.

There was no way Johnny was going to let Mark experience what he did.

You watch in awe as Donghyuck frees himself from the rope that once held his wrists together. You’re not too sure how he’s done it, only ever seeing him wriggle here and there for what seemed like a few short minutes before he’s moving over to you to get rid of your restraints. You heave a huge sigh of relief when your wrists finally become free, your fingers immediately flying to rub the now burning skin. Donghyuck takes both of your hands to haul you up on your feet, dusting off your dirty clothes when you find your balance.

Donghyuck surveys the empty room, its dirty white washed walls not really giving much option for an escape. He examines all four corners, until his eyes stop on the rectangular glass windows lining up a portion of the far wall, opposite the door. Donghyuck walks closer to it and draws a conclusion this room must be basement from being able to make out the ground through the blur of the dirt of the panes. The windows look too small for two people to escape through, the height of it seemingly a bit too high with a width that’s almost too narrow, meeting the ceiling and Donghyuck isn’t too sure either where this route will lead to nor is it guaranteed there is no one keeping watch on the other side.

But they’ve got to try. And they’ve got to try quick.

“Step back y/n,” he warns lowly, mentally calculating the mechanics of what he’s about to do. You don’t say anything when you follow as Donghyuck says, secretly growing weary of the dark glint in his eyes you didn’t see before.

Donghyuck takes two steps backwards before he’s charging forward, his right arm drawn back fully with his hand forming a firm fist. His fist meets the glass in less than second when he pulls his arm forward, the momentum he’s gained from his short jog adding to the strength in which his arms could muster. You wince in your spot when you hear a bang, the mere sight of Donghyuck trying to dismantle the glass making you feel the pain on your own wrist. You turn around to look away when Donghyuck charges again, the glass merely deflecting his efforts the first time around.

The glass cracks the second time and on the third, Donghyuck uses all his might to finally break it, shards of glass falling to the ground, some falling outwards on the ground. Donghyuck hisses when his fist begins to bleed, small pieces of glass digging into skin. He’s shaking his right palm as blood trickles down his fingers at an alarming rate.

“Donghyuck!” you exclaim as you run up to him and study the damage on his hand. Bright red blood gushes in more than one spot on his bruised skin and you’re extra careful when you gently pick at the shards that had sunk into his skin. Donghyuck stays still and lets you do what you’re doing as he continues to investigate the gap he’s made. It’s dark outside and the lack of light coming from outside makes Donghyuck hopeful that no one is out there to guard.

When Donghyuck looks back down, there’s a cloth wrapped around his knuckles and he realises it’s the blindfold he once took off your eyes. “Donghyuck we have to wash it,” you absentmindedly say when you finish tying a knot to keep it in place.

“Y/n, that’s the least of our worries right now,” Donghyuck says sternly. “We have to get out of here.”

He pulls you towards the window then and your eyes widen with the idea that’s now beginning to unfold in your mind. “I’ll go up first so I can help you from up there,” Donghyuck is already moving before you can even process his words.

Donghyuck climbs with ease, stealthily sliding himself through the gap, broken glass dropping to the floor when he does. In no time, he’s successfully made it outside and stays lying on his stomach with his hands outstretched to you. “Come on,” he urges. “Run towards me and jump and I’ll catch you.”

You nod in determination, wanting to get out desperately and feeling the need not to disappoint Donghyuck. You do as Donghyuck says and when you jump, he catches your hands as promised. Donghyuck uses his incredible strength to haul you upwards and you begin to worry when you see his knuckles bleed through the thin cloth. You purse your lips together as you use your feet to scramble against the wall just as Donghyuck grits his teeth hard to pull you out.

But you’re screaming the next second when you feel being aggressively pulled from the wall, strong arms wrapped around your body until your hands are no longer grasping Donghyuck’s. You’re thrashing around, kicking your legs into the air to try and rid of the body that’s keeping you from leaving, but they’re way stronger than you and already carrying you out through the door you didn’t notice had become opened during your attempt at escaping.

“Keep still,” the man carrying you growls into your ear and you recognise him as the same man who had given you water yesterday.

You catch a glimpse of Donghyuck when you look back and he nods firmly at you before he’s getting up on his feet to make a run.

Donghyuck won’t let you down. His eyes said so.

Donghyuck runs frantically for his life, his legs having no sense of direction with the only focus of escaping to bring help to you before the worst can happen. He’s relieved when he comes across no one in his path, but skeptical with the lack of people guarding the opponent’s headquarters. Nonetheless, he sets that thought aside and exerts his remaining energy in seeking refuge.

Donghyuck falls back on the ground when his body collides with someone else’s after a sharp turn. He groans inwardly, his head spinning as he lands on his injured hand, feeling a new gush of blood seeping out the cracks of his skin. Donghyuck can only see a silhouette when he looks up, eyes squinting to adjust to the light behind the stranger after having ran in the dark for so long.

“Hyuck!”

He recognises that voice anywhere.

“God— ow, that hurt like a bitch,” Donghyuck curses under his breath, letting his guard down completely when Mark helps him up off the ground. “Watch where you’re going idiot!”

Mark rolls his eyes, “I should be the one saying that to you.”

Behind Mark, Johnny emerges who is now staring at Donghyuck. “What happened to your face?” Johnny asks, eyeing the younger from head to toe. “You look horrible.”

Donghyuck swipes the back of his hand across his swollen lower lip, “Kun happened.”

“Jaemin said they caught you,” Mark says, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. “What happened?”

Donghyuck shrugs, “They took me on the way home from yours earlier. You know, Lucas, Xiaojun and Sicheng?” Mark and Johnny nod. “Yeah, them lot. Thought they’d just taken me for the fun of it, since you know, they hate our guts. Turns out they wanted information from me.”

“Information?” Johnny asks.

Donghyuck rests his palms on either side of his hips. “Yeah, about Nakamoto. Didn’t budge though, that’s why they beat me up.”

“Wait, they know about Yuta?” Johnny questions, the pieces of the puzzle seemingly not adding up to make up a picture that makes sense.

Donghyuck nods, “Y/n’s in there too, Mark. I tried to get her out with me but Xiaojun caught her just in time.”

At the mention of your name, Mark’s hands balls into fists, chills covering every inch of his skin at the thought of you hurting under their mercy. Mark purses his lips in sheer anger, mentally promising to get rid of anyone who dared lay a finger on you.

“What are you guys doing here anyway?” Donghyuck inquires.

“We came as soon as we got the news about you,” Johnny answers. “And because we had our suspicions they had y/n too. We were going to get you both out.”

Mark doesn’t hear a word Johnny says when he pushes past Donghyuck, the thought of saving you the only thing running in his mind, the hours of structuring a plan flying out the window. Every moment that passes where he’s unsure about your safety, the more impulsive he becomes into compromising his life just to save yours.

Donghyuck is quick to get in Mark’s way, succeeding in stopping him in his tracks. “Mark, going in there isn’t a good idea.”

“What do you mean! She’s in there Hyuck— I have to save her.”

Donghyuck firmly stops Mark again with a palm to his best friend’s chest. “Stop,” he calls out and looks at Mark straight in the eye. The desperation in his friend’s eye is devastating because it spoke of just how much he was willing to give up just to save you. “I need you to listen to me. And I need you to listen well.”

Johnny steps in beside Mark to make sure he doesn’t move an inch. When Donghyuck is sure he’s gotten all of Mark’s attention, he begins but not before drawing in a deep breath, “When I was in there, Kun asked me about everything I knew about Yuta and Taeyong’s proposed deal. Mark, they know about our shit. Somehow they’ve found out. Now is the time to be careful and not take any careless chances.”

“Hyuck what are you trying to say—“

“Kun asked me how much Yuta offered in exchange for y/n,” Donghyuck’s voice suddenly lowers, as if to save the remaining intact parts of Mark to refrain them from shattering.

“Mark, I think they’re giving y/n to Yuta for money.”

“It’s happening tomorrow, Kun’s boys are leaving their headquarters one by one to secure the the port they’re meeting at tomorrow,” Jeno announces, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“We have to get to them before they can even meet Yuta,” Mark insists, his hands clasped tightly together, sitting on the centre of the counter table, the rest of the boys sitting on either sides in front of him.

Johnny leans forward into the table and shakes his head, “They’re on high alert Mark, they know as much as we do, how dangerous of a person Yuta is. Going in there to snatch someone they could get millions for is basically a death wish.”

“But wouldn’t it be more dangerous if we go in there at a later time?” Renjun points out, tapping is chin. “Intervening when Kun and Yuta’s guys is the biggest death wish to me. We’d be outnumbered,” Renjun pauses and glances at everyone around the table. “By a lot.”

“And knowing Kun’s boys and how much they hate us, they definitely wouldn’t hesitate to kill, especially if there’s a lot of money on the line,” Donghyuck adds, his bruised and wounded face now all patched up thanks to Johnny.

There’s silence for a while, everyone getting lost in their own thoughts. As much as Mark hated to admit it, everything his comrades had said was right and as much as he wanted to save you, he didn’t want to put anyone’s lives in danger like that, even though his job literally meant risking his life every day. He wanted as little casualties on his end as possible. It was the least he owed his friends for being in on this despite it being against their will and against Taeyong.

“Jeno is there any way we can meet Yuta before tomorrow?” Mark asks lowly, his eyes hard and directed at Jeno.

Jeno blinks once before he’s typing away again, all eyes now on him, “He’s supposed to be arriving sometime tomorrow in the morning and according to my sources, he’s supposed to be leaving the day after. I think we can possibly meet him if get in contact with him now.”

“And can we do that?”

Jeno nods and cranes his neck towards Renjun, “Renjun and I will trace his contact.”

Mark nods gratefully. “Thanks.”

“What do you plan on telling him?” Johnny asks, looking up from where he sits on the couch.

Mark draws in a breath, “I don’t know yet. I just have to talk to him before they do.”

“You don’t want to get through to Kun first?” Jaemin asks curiously.

Mark spares a glance in Donghyuck’s direction, guilt seeping in him to see his friend in such a state. Mark shakes his head firmly, “No. He has his eyes set on Yuta. He’s never gonna settle for anything less than what Yuta would have offered him, and I’m guessing it’s a lot.”

Jaemin nods slowly, realising how much Mark must have thought this through in his head.

“But I’m going to need eyes on Kun,” Mark continues, rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Just so I know they’re not harming her while I negotiate with Yuta.”

Johnny volunteers as he nods, “I’ll do that.” He turns to Taeil beside him, “Taeil will help me.”

Taeil blinks unsurely at the mention of his name but nods after a good five seconds when Johnny’s words finally sink in. “Yeah, we’ll keep an eye.”

And no one sleeps for the rest of the night. Jeno, Renjun and Jaemin study the blueprint of the port Jeno has somehow managed to get his hands on, locating potential hideouts to put themselves in until they can execute their plan. Johnny and Donghyuck are in a corner teaching Taeil some of basic self defence, knowing he’s never fought anyone in his life ever while Mark is busy readying his guns for tomorrow, a sick feeling coating the pit of his stomach when he realises he’s in the room you came across that day you realised he was the one who had shot you. He sets his sniper down and turns to find your picture still pinned on the board. He takes it and examines the picture in a way he has never before. It’s a random photo of you he had gotten off the internet, but taking a closer look now, it’s one of you smiling, your smile reaching your eyes. You looked beautiful, he thinks and the guilt of putting you in more danger than you already were in seeps in stronger than ever. Mark swears he’d never be able to forgive himself if there was anything to happen to you.

Mark continues to long for you as he keeps gazing at your photo, he doesn’t notice Donghyuck sliding in the room until he’s beside him and craning his neck to look at where Mark’s attention is focused on.

“H-Hyuck,” Mark calls out as he clears his throat, setting the picture aside.

Donghyuck throws him a knowing look before picking up a small gun previously laid on the table, “Miss her already?”

Mark is about to shrug Donghyuck’s question off knowing he wasn’t usually the one to talk about these things, but Mark feels it’s okay to be vulnerable tonight, especially to the friend who knows him the best. “Yeah, I do,” he finally admits, dropping his head low.

Donghyuck smiles a little, satisfied Mark trusts him with this side of him, a rare side one would never think he possessed because with what Mark did for a living, there was almost always no room for emotions or second guesses.

“We’ll save her, okay?” Donghyuck attempts to console his friend, the feeling unfamiliar to him for the mere fact they’ve never been put in this situation before. “We really will.”

Mark smiles gratefully as he glances at Donghyuck. “Hyuck, what really happened today? How did Kun catch you like that?”

Donghyuck disassembles the gun he’s been holding with ease before he turns to Mark, an already apologetic glint in his eyes. “I, when I left after screaming at your face earlier, I thought about what you said. And Kun’s boys aren’t exactly the discrete type of people so I found out about them having y/n earlier. and,” Donghyuck sighs, “I realised just how important she was to you.. you know after you punched me like that because you’d never do that. You’d never do that to any of us. Never. So I knew I had to do something.. I, I don’t want what happened to Ari happen again.”

“So I went in there, without a plan in mind, just the thought of needing to do something. And I thought I had it, I thought I had her. Turns out Kun needed me for other reasons too and made their job of abducting me a whole lot easier for them,” Donghyuck stifles a laugh.

“You were there to save y/n?”

Donghyuck nods. “Not sure what I was thinking, it was really irrational. But.”

“I realised she might just be what you have left..” Donghyuck trails off. “I mean you have us, you’re always going to have us. But, soulmates are different I guess, even though I literally said they meant nothing earlier. I guess I needed you to punch me a few times before I could finally understand.”

Donghyuck sighs and turns to Mark, “Look, I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier and for all the things I said. I guess, I was just too angry at the thought of betraying Taeyong and keeping everything from us but after thinking about it now, I think I understand better why you did what you did.”

Mark breaks out into a small smile. “I’m sorry for punching you too.”

Donghyuck grins, “Nah, I deserved it.”

The two chuckle together, bruised cheeks lifting into smiles.

“She’s gonna be okay. We’ll make sure of that.”

And Mark believes and holds onto his best friend’s words.

Mark kicks at the ground outside his parked car just when the sun is about to peek from behind the horizon. The air is cold and crisp, the occasional breeze blowing towards his direction making him ball his fists deeper into the pockets of his jeans. The sound of the water hitting against the shore echoes into the stillness of the air and it offers Mark some sort of comfort, his mind unconsciously bringing him back to the time he confessed to you, to that morning he explained just why he had tried so hard to save you. And just when his mind is about to completely become filled by thoughts of you, his chest tightening at how much he just wants to see you, the sounds of cars pulling up in the distance snapping him out of his trance. Mark instinctively straightens his back and pulls himself from against his car, twisting his body to greet the oncoming cars coming his direction. He lifts his wrist to view, the time on his watch reading seven forty in the morning, the exact estimated time Jeno and Renjun had predicted in the earlier hours of dawn during the planning process.

Mark steps in the middle of the road when the series of cars drive nearer to him until they eventually come to a stop when he impedes their path. Mark lifts his chin up in full confidence, inhaling a breath of hair to prepare himself of what’s to come. Securing a meeting with Yuta was impossible despite Jeno’s skills and so interfering like this to buy even five minutes of his time had to do.

The driver of the first car opens the door of the van and steps outside, eyes trained on Mark with a frown. Mark spots the gun tucked underneath his belt but doesn’t cower. “Who are you?” the stranger, a big man, inquires, coming forward but far enough from Mark as a precaution.

“I need to talk to your boss,” Mark replies calmly. “I know he’s in the car behind yours.”

“My boss doesn’t see just anyone,” the man replies sternly, crossing his arms across his chest just as another man, who had been sitting on the passenger seat, exit the vehicle also. “And it really isn’t a good idea for you to be out here either.”

Mark scoffs and tears his eyes off the two men momentarily, darting them to the ground before looking back up at them again. “Is that a threat?” Mark was going to do anything to spare a few minutes of Yuta’s time but it didn’t mean he was going to submit to them so hastily, knowing all too well how quickly they’d be in control of the situation if he lets them.

“You decide,” the second man replies, slightly smaller in build than the other. “The fact that you know who we are, should be enough for you to decide.”

Mark makes sure the two sees him roll his eyes, to ensure they know he’s clearly mocking them. “I think I’ll decide once I’ve gotten a word with your boss.”

“And how many times to we have to remind you it’s not possible?”

Mark mirrors the man’s actions by crossing his arms across his chest. “Tell him it’s Mark Lee. Either you do that right now or we stay here like this all day.” Mark’s voice shift in an instant, his tone lowering and deepening just as his eyes darken in the same way. “And I'm sure neither of you,” Mark leans to his side and eyes the cars lined up before standing straight again, “Or everyone else here has the time.”

The two exchange unsure glances until one of them eventually walks away to make his way to what Mark can make out to be car behind the one in his view. Mark taps his foot at the ground as he waits impatiently, the man left behind watching him closely.

It isn’t long before Mark hears another car door opening and shutting in the near distance and another moment that passes further before Nakamoto Yuta comes into view, a small smirk already playing at his lips. He walks forward, two of his men following closely behind him.

“Ah, Mark Lee,” Yuta greets with a sinister smile when he stops in his steps, a metre away from Mark. “I haven’t heard from you since.”

Mark shrugs his shoulders, “We couldn’t get through you for some reason.” The only reason why Yuta severed ties was only because he knew you were in someone else’s hands now, shifting his focus completely to whoever had a hold of you, despite attempts of making negotiations with Mark first during the initial encounter in Japan, a fact that Mark knew very well, getting a good grasp of who this Nakamoto Yuta really was.

Yuta breathes a laugh, “I’m a busy man. I must have missed you,” he tries to shrug off even though he knows Mark isn’t buying it. He shakes his head a raises both of his brows, “Well, what brings you here today?”

“I’m here to propose a deal,” Mark replies instantly, refusing to beat around the bush.

“A deal?”

Mark nods firmly. “Double of what Taeyong initially proposed you.”

Yuta arches a brow, the corner of his lips turning upwards. “That’s quite a deal Mark. Does Taeyong know about this?”

Mark ignores the question and keeps his eyes trained on Yuta. “Are you going to take it?”

Yuta lands his palms on either side of his hips and swipes his tongue across his lower lips. “In exchange of what?”

Mark looks at Yuta directly in the eye and without missing a beat, he replies,

“Y/n.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

All heads turn in an instant, Donghyuck’s mouth hanging open in the process. Mark tightens his grip around the duffle bag hanging in his hands as he lets go of the door he has just locked. Johnny and Jeno exchange weary looks towards one another while Renjun, Jaemin and Taeil blink at the uninvited guest.

“To get y/n.” Mark breaks the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

Taeyong smirks mockingly and kicks at the ground mindlessly, his gaze shifting to somewhere else in the distance before returning it to Mark. “With this amount of people? With what reinforcements exactly?”

Johnny raises a brow, “What are you doing here anyway?” His tone of voice rigid, his jaw taught, an unpleasant taste in his mouth at the sight of Taeyong.

Taeyong stuffs both of his balled fists in the pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders, “Trying to stop you all from getting killed.”

Johnny laughs, but he isn’t amused. Renjun cowers at the sound that leaves Johnny’s lips, knowing that whatever was about to come out of it next won’t be anything good. “Brave of you to talk about preventing ourselves from getting killed when killing has been the only thing you’ve been doing all your life.” There’s a menacing glint in Johnny’s orbs as he speaks, his eyes directed straight at Taeyong, making sure every single word jabs at him directly.

Taeyong inhales a sharp breath as he shuts his eyes for a few seconds, already expecting this hostility from his once best friend. He tries to compose himself in the silence in dire attempts of looking for the right words to say to convince them of his genuine intentions to help.

Mark watches the scene unravel and when it appears that the current situation wasn’t going to improve anytime soon, especially not when Johnny and Taeyong are around one another, he takes it upon himself to get moving first, walking past Taeyong without saying a word as the younger ones follow behind him.

Jaemin and Donghyuck glance at Taeyong sadly just when they’re about to pass him and Taeyong catches it, nodding at them both reassuringly before they’re out of his sight, following Mark to his van. Taeyong also catches sight of Johnny’s glare when he’s the last to walk away from him, his anger clearly indicated in the way he purposely bumps his shoulder against his.

When Taeyong hears the doors of the van slide open behind him, he inhales another big breath, clenching his fists tighter than ever, still contemplating if the words he’s about to say are the right ones.

“I want to help.”

The six halt in their tracks again, Taeil’s leg hanging in the air just as he’s about to get into the van first. Mark sees Johnny frown from where he stands on the opposite side of the van, eyes hard trained on the roof of the van. Mark looks past Johnny and sees Taeyong still standing there, his back facing them.

Before Mark can even speak, Johnny beats him to it, “The last time you offered to help, you killed Ari.”

A loud sigh gets lost in the wind when Taeyong finally turns around at the same time Johnny does. Taeyong looks furious now as he storms towards Johnny, steps heavy and desperate.

“How many times do I have to keep telling you that wasn’t meant to happen,” Taeyong almost yells, his shoulders now heaving with anger. “How many times do I have to fucking apologise for that one fucking mistake!”

The raise in Taeyong’s voice only aggravate Johnny further and the rest of the boys are quick to divide themselves between Taeyong and Johnny in order to prevent an impending fist fight that’s waiting to happen.

“Why are you the one all worked up?!” Johnny practically yells even though Taeyong is a mere two meters away from him. “You’re not the one who lost her!”

“Because you’re being unreasonable!” Taeyong retaliates as Renjun and Donghyuck stand closely beside him, hands on either sides of his shoulders to stop him from trying to advance. “Because no matter how much I apologise to you, no matter how much I try to make up for it, you still act like I wanted it to happen!”

“Hell you have no idea how much—“

“Of course I have no idea!” Taeyong exclaims exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air in utter frustration. “I’ve never been in your shoes before! I can only fucking imagine how much it must have hurt but shit, how many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry until you finally—“

“Until it no longer fucking hurts!”

Taeyong stares at Johnny, shoulders drooping low when he sees the hurt in his eyes that have now brimmed with tears. The boys switch gazes between the two helplessly, despair and disappointment running through their veins when they watch the two people, who were once the best of brothers, go at each other’s throat.

“Until... I forget it ever happened,” Johnny’s voice is cracking but he’s gritting his teeth in futile attempts not to crumble. “Until I get the image of Ari dying right before my own eyes, out of my head.. because, that’s all I see before I sleep, all I think about when I remember her..”

Taeyong drops his head low, the sight of a broken Johnny for the first time ever in all the years he’s known him, too much for him to see. He feels his heart breaking, knowing all too well the immense damage he’s caused because of that incident, yet not fully realising how much it has ruined his friend all these years. Johnny was a friend, he always has been, in fact, one of the closest Taeyong ever holds close, and man did it hurt to see strong friends like that crumble.

“I.. I really am so sorry, John,” Taeyong breathes, his eyes sad and hurt as he looks up again. “I’m sorry.”

Johnny’s eyes are blank as he gazes towards Taeyong,

“Me too.”

Mark has never seen Johnny this quiet before but he knows he’s following well even when it appears as if his eyes are blank and staring into nothing. Taeyong speaks fluidly, the steps in executing his proposed plans flowing out one after the other with so much ease, as if he’s already mulled the situation over a million times before, having even constructed alternative plans in the event that something does go wrong.

The younger ones keep silent, letting Taeyong do all the talking, only ever nodding when the elder clarifies if they’ve been keeping up with everything he had just said. Renjun and Jaemin are too stiff in Mark’s eyes, and he figures it’s gotten something to do with how Taeyong initially exploded when he found out about him saving and hiding you, too afraid and too cautious to say or do something that might upset the alpha who hasn’t stopped talking ever since he sat down on the couch, drawing everyone’s attnetion to various maps and blueprints of buildings with the help of resourceful Jeno.

“You know it would really help if I got some feedback from all of you,” Taeyong suddenly says, pausing midway his evacuation plan when he notices everyone avoiding his eyes.

Taeil purses his lips as he fiddles with the loose threads of his ripped jeans, Taeyong’s presence still sending chills down his spine, remembering he’s the one who was after his best friend’s life in the first place. He feels the hairs on his skin stand when Taeyong cranes his neck to look towards his direction and when he meets his eyes briefly, Taeil’s heart drops, the sensation alone making him turn his head somewhere else in less than a second. Taeyong’s eyes were too much, too intense, and too scary, no wonder everyone in the room fell silent when he spoke.

Mark, who’s standing by the edge of the table, overseeing every plan spread out on the coffee table, crosses his arms across his chest and raises a hand to grasp his chin as he envisions the plan coming to life. When he’s about to speak, Renjun beats him to it unconsciously, “The plans sound good. Better than the ones we’ve come up with honestly,” he glances towards Mark wearily who only nods at him encouragingly, silently agreeing with him. “But those plans involve a lot of manpower. We only have, like, what? Eight of us?”

“You’re not the only ones in this mafia, are you?” Taeyong asks lowly.

Donghyuck raises a brow inquisitively, “Wait, what? You mean-”

“I’ve already told everyone else. All transactions and activities are on hold right now to focus on this. We have way more manpower than we need.”

“Everyone?” Jaemin clarifies.

“Everyone.” Taeyong confirms.

Jaemin, Renjun and Donghyuck smirk amongst themselves, already feeling the success of their plans, knowing all too well how brilliant Taeyong’s people were when put altogether. Taeil nods silently, relief washing over him, the thought of you coming back to safety seeming more and more possible.

“So let me get this straight,” Johnny says abruptly, leaning over the table, too lost in his own thoughts all this while as the others conversed amongsth themselves. Taeyong directs his gaze at him, a hint of comfort bubbling inside of him after years of being invisible to Johnny’s eyes. Johnny meets Taeyong’s eyes when he looks up from the table and he sees Taeong with expectant eyes, his eyebrows arched upwards to urge him to talk. It feels foreign, Johnny thinks, to be speaking to someone he considered gone for years.

“You want to propose another deal to Yuta in exchange for y/n?”

Taeyong nods.

“And what makes you think he’d agree?”

Mark knows Johnny isn’t mocking Taeyong, though his tone of voice and the blank expression on his face could easily make anyone else think so.

Taeyong doesn’t sway though, deciding that he’d put up with anything Johnny decided to throw at him if it meant earning his forgiveness.

“Because it’s a deal he won’t be able to make with anyone else,” Taeyong answers confidently, straightening his back. “We’re the strongest mafia in Korea. That, combined with what I’m about to offer him is something only an idiot would decide to pass on.”

Johnny falls silent, the conviction in Taeyong’s eyes and words enough to tell him he means it.

“This deal...” Jeno starts carefully. “What kind of a deal is it?”

Taeyong pauses before answering, “Remember that time you went to Japan? Remember what we initially offered him?”

Renjun, Jaemin, Donghyuck nod as Mark raises a brow.

“Triple that price. More drugs. More arms. A formal alliance between us and them.”

Mark frowns while the three widen their eyes. Johnny looks up from the floor and up at Taeyong. He doesn’t know the actual price or the amount, but knowing Taeyong, anything that was double or triple anything was a lot.

“Taeyong, that’s a lot you’re putting on the line,” Mark points out. Even though he wanted to so badly save you, he was unsure Taeyong risking his livelihood for someone he barely even knew, would be something that would benefit not just him, but the entirety of his mafia in the longrun. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Taeyong nods firmly with no hesitation whatsoever.

“We can always think of other plans, we can come up with other deals,” Mark reasons, knowing hell would literally come upon them if they made permanent alliances with someone as manipulative as Yuta.

Taeyong breaks into a small smile, appreciating what Mark was doing. “He's rejected your proposal already, Mark. There’s nothing else as good as this one that Yuta would even consider thinking about. It’s the best we can offer.”

“But-”

“Mark, I’ve made up my mind. There’s no changing it.”

Mark’s shoulders droop in defeat, knowing that it was completely useless arguing with Taeyong once he made up his mind.

“Are you sure?”

Taeyong glances at Johnny for a second. And then he looks back at Mark.

“Very.”

The sun is up high in the sky when Taeyong’s troop arrives at the agreed meeting place; a deserted factory by the docks at the edge of the town neighbouring theirs. As planned, Taeyong, Donghyuck and Jaemin are the only ones who appear in the open while the rest set up camp in isolation on either sides of the factory, in order to position themselves in their designated locations. Taeyong rolls down the window of the van a soon as he hits the brakes when he’s stopped by Yuta’s men just outside the gates of the meeting place. Taeyong doesn’t speak, even when two big men scrutinise his face for a good two minutes and even when one of them stick their head in through the window. Donghyuck fakes a salute with a smirk on the passenger seat while Jaemin raises a brow to feign confidence.

The stranger nods at the other men impeding the entrance and they eventually part from each other, the gate sliding open, the bars separating from each other from the middle. Taeyong rolls the window back up and drives straight through.

“We’re in,” Donghyuck speaks into his mic that’s concealed very well, no one would suspect it ever existed, just like the others’. “Taeil, status?”

“We’re in position,” Taeil’s voice rings in their earpieces. “Not sure about the other side though, we can’t see them from where we are yet.”

“Renjun?” Donghyuck calls out just as Taeyong comes to a halt when he finishes parking. “You guys good on the other side?”

“Yup,” Renjun replies. “We see them now.”

Taeyong unbuckles his seatbelt but doesn’t exit the van. He ducks his head between the gap of the steering wheel and the windshield to inspect the location, a tall, rundown building with cracked windows greeting him. It’s exactly like Jeno’s blueprint, he thinks.

“Mark, I need a visual,” Taeyong inquires.

Mark, who has the highest point of visual due to the mere fact he’s situated on the rooftop on the building next to the factory, aligns the viewer of his sniper left and right. “They’re preparing to leave. They’re packing up as we speak.”

“Right,” Taeyong answers. “Alright everyone, the goal is to prevent them from leaving. I need all potential exit points secure and as soon as anyone gets a visual on y/n, report immediately. Do not shoot unless extremely needed.”

Taeyong, Jaemin and Donghyuck begin to set out from the van and into the building after having their identity confirmed by the men manning the main entrance into the factory. Once in, they’re escorted by another five, who surround them as they lead through the corridors and walls of the place. Donghyuck and Jaemin play dumb even when they know this place like the back of their hand, having made many transactions here in the past with Taeyong. Taeyong does the same, mindlessly following the man in front of him until they come to a complete stop in what he remembers to be what used to be the main packaging area of the old factory.

Taeyong sees Yuta in the middle of the room, examining the last remaining boxes that are being packed by his men, of contents he presumes to be from Kun. Yuta turns around when he feels company enter the room and he greets Taeyong with a smile for show.

“Taeyong,” Yuta’s voice echoes as he walks up to them to meet them halfway. “Your guys sure are persistent.”

Taeyong lets out a breathy laugh and tips his head forward slightly. “We don’t stop unless we get what we want.”

Yuta smirks, “And that’s a vital quality in our world, isn’t it? Persistence.”

Taeyong shrugs, “Depends if it gets you what you want in the end.”

Yuta laughs and it booms through the empty room. Once he’s gotten a hold of himself he holds his palms out and gestures over to the three. “So what can I do for you today?”

“A deal.”

Yuta arches a brow. “Another one? Mark proposed one to me yesterday as you may know.”

Taeyong nods, unfazed. “A better one.”

Yuta holds a hand up to stop Taeyong from going further. “So let me get things straight. Mark wasn’t able to settle a deal with me yesterday, so now Lee Taeyong, the alpha of the group is stepping up to try and seal another one?” Yuta grins and rubs the palms of his hands together, a dark glint coating his orbs. “Well this should be one heck of a deal then.”

From the corner of Jaemin’s eye, he sees Taeyong clench his fists and he knows Taeyong is about to submit himself into something that’s potentially going to be the cause of their downfall as a mafia.

“Triple the price of what we initially offered. Triple the amount of arms. Triple the amount of drugs. And a formal alliance between you and me.”

Taeyong doesn't skip a beat nor does he breathe as he speaks his words and everyone else listening on the line are holding their breaths, already preparing themselves for what’s to come in the near future once the deal does go ahead.

Donghyuck shifts uncomfortably in his spot when silence follows. Yuta’s expression doesn’t change as he continues to eye Taeyong who doesn’t cower away either. Yuta presses his lips into a thin line and exhales a breath before asking the next question.

“And in exchange for what?”

And Taeyong doesn’t hesitate.

“Y/n.”

Yuta breaks out into a smile immediately, his teeth coming to full view. He shuffles in his spot until he’s comfortable and rests both of his hands on either sides of his hips. “Wow,” he exclaims sarcastically. “What the fuck does y/n have for her to be in such high demand?”

Taeyong remains stoic and Jaemin and Donghyuck behind him remain quiet.

“First, it was Kun, yesterday, Mark and now you? Lee Taeyong? Lee Taeyong, also known as the strongest and most powerful mafia leader in the country, willing to basically give his life away for some damsel in distress?” Yuta taunts with so much hostility dripping from his words. He steps forward and keeps going until he’s a mere inches apart from Taeyong’s face. “Tell me, what does this girl have for you to go this far? Surely, it’s more than just money, more than what her net worth is.”

Taeyong can feel Yuta’s breath against his skin and if it were another day, he would’ve already punched him once or twice for invading his personal space. But today was different because your life was on the line and he had to do everything in his power to behave, even if it meant letting go of something as small as this.

“Like you said, she's worth millions,” Taeyong calmly replies, meeting Yuta’s eyes. “A person worth that much doesn’t appear very often.”

“But you tried to kill her,” Yuta questions.

“Her parents owed me money. They died before I could kill them so I opted for her instead.”

“And what made you change your mind?”

“For the same reasons you want her. Money.”

If there was one thing Taeyong took pride in, it would be his lying skills, something he's mastered overtime for having been involved in businesses like this for years. It’s a skill no one questions and one that his peers usually are confident in, but knowing how notorious Yuta was, and how his skills may just be on par with Taeyong’s, he’s suddenly questioning whether Yuta can see through his lies no matter how hard he’s tried to conceal the truth.

Yuta shrugs and steps away for what feels like decades. “I have to thank you then, for not killing her completely in the first place. Otherwise, you would’ve left me with no choice but to come for you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

Yuta laughs again and shakes his head, his hair swaying along with the motions of his head. “No, I’m not,” he smiles. “But it is my way of politely saying no to your deal.”

Taeyong frowns.

“The deal is off Taeyong.”

Taeyong is about to retaliate when a gunshot is heard in the distance, making everyone in the room jolt in their spots. Two of the men behind Jaemin and Donghyuck leave the room immediately while the remaining three are quick to grab a hold of them each.

“Fucking hell, some bastard just tried to shoot me,” Johnny speaks into the earpieces.

Yuta curses under his breath and signals for his men to drag Taeyong, Jaemin and Donghyuck away and before they know it, they’re already being pulled from the room. Taeyong grits his teeth together, his jaw becoming taught.

“Johnny, people are coming over to where you are now,” Mark points out. “Ready yourselves, and we’ll send backup. Renjun?”

“We’re on it,” Renjun answers and orders half of his guys with him to head onto Johnny’s location.

“Taeyong? Status?” Mark calls out.

When Taeyong, Jaemin and Donghyuck are some place quieter, along a corridor that appears to be deserted, Taeyong is the first to fight by pulling himself away from the man who had been holding him, elbowing him squarely on the face, catching him off guard and leaving him no time to recover as he stumbles backwards with a groan. Once the other two men let go of Jaemin and Donghyuck to assist their comrade, Taeyong has already pulled the man’s gun from his stow, shooting him in no less than a second, followed by the other two, knocking the three down in a glimpse.

“We’re good, but that won’t be the case for long,” Taeyong answers. “Alright, Jaemin and Donghyuck I need you both to search the entire area and find where they’re keeping y/n,” he instructs just as the two finish taking the abandoned guns from the two unconscious men. The two nod before they’re out of Taeyong’s sight in search for you.

It’s not long before a series of gunshots resonate in the distance and Taeyong runs in the opposite direction in hopes of finding you. Mark from where he’s located on the rooftop, try to block incoming enemies heading towards Johnny’s direction by shooting at them one by one, not missing a single target. Johnny and his troop do a good job of securing their hideout by defending and while all the attention is drawn on to them, the rest of Renjun’s troops that were previously left behind to man their area, move in slowly to infiltrate and secure the inside of the factory while it remains unguarded.

“Movement by the South,” Jeno speaks. “They’re heading for the factory.”

“We’re moving in,” Johnny declares when he takes the last man down. “Any signs of y/n yet?”

“None yet,” Donghyuck breathes into his earpiece. “We have two more locations to check, she should be in one of those, but I think we’re going to need backup, that place is probably guarded too.”

“Coming Hyuck, I need a location,” Johnny says.

“Basement. There’s a room by the clearing after the second corridor, we’re keeping watch here. A lot of them are evacuating to see what the commotion is outside. Be careful on your way in.”

“Copy.”

“Mark and Jeno, stop anyone from coming in the factory, I need Renjun’s troops to come in easily,” Taeyong commands as he shoots a stranger in his path.

Mark and Jeno do as they’re told and switch their target to those incoming the factory. Mark shoots the first of the lot coming in from the gates and when the rest of them try to figure out where the bullet is coming from, Jeno takes advantage of that time to begin his shooting spree with an eighty percent success rate.

“Jeno, we’ve checked everywhere in the basement, she’s not here,” Jaemin admits when two minutes pass. “Is there anywhere else we could have missed?”

“There’s nothing on the first floor,” Taeyong adds.

There’s silence on the line as Jeno racks his brain and tries to recall even the most minute detail of the blueprint he’s studied for four hours straight. “Unless they’ve taken her out of there already.”

“Shit,” Taeyong hisses.

“Secure all exit points guys, we cannot, and I repeat, we cannot let them leave,” Mark announces loudly and firmly so make sure everyone hears.

Taeyong ducks down immediately when he hears a gunshot in his vicinity and judging by the way the bullet penetrates the wall beside him, that it was intended for him. Taeyong shuffles behind the said wall as he huffs, “Renjun and Johnny, I need backup on the first floor.”

“Got it.”

“I have a visual on Yuta coming out of the factory from the back,” Jeno confirms.

Mark squints his eyes and attempts to get a visual through his viewer towards the back, “I see y/n with him.”

One of the other groups within the area are quick to act on their feet and begin shooting once localising Yuta’s whereabouts, taking down the men guarding him in one blink. This prompts Yuta to head back into the shelter of the factory, aggressively dragging you with him.

“They’re headed back inside,” Mark warns. “Johnny and Renjun, keep a lookout. Jaemin and Donghyuck I need you both to come back up the first floor and help Taeyong and the rest. The rest of you all, stay on guard outside and intervene as appropriate.”

Once Mark and Jeno secure the outside and see no unusual movements, they both pack up to leave the rooftop and set down to infiltrate the factory themselves. Meanwhile Taeyong keeps hiding behind the wall, knowing all too well he’s outnumbered by the enemies who are gradually coming closer to him. He scans his surroundings and in all directions, is a dead end, leaving him no option but to stay put for the meantime.

Johnny and Renjun are just in time when they come across the crowd trying to target Taeyong, shooting at them relentlessly and succeeding with major ease as their troop falls behind them in assistance. Taeyong emerges from behind the wall when the gunshots cease in less than twenty seconds. He nods at Johnny as a token of gratitude but falls to the ground straight after when a bullet penetrates his body. Taeyong’s world spins in the process, meeting the ground so harshly in a blur.

Renjun and Johnny immediately shift their focus to the right and there stands Yuta with you held as hostage, his gun now pointing dangerously close to your temple. Taeil, who had been hiding behind another wall, as per Johnny’s instructions, see everything happen and retreat behind his shelter to report. “Taeyong is down, I repeat Taeyong is down. Yuta is here and y/n is with him. First floor, main hall.”

Taeyong at this point is struggling to breathe, the bullet in his neck making blood gush out faster than anything else. He finds the strength to lift his hand in attempts of stopping the gush, using a piece of clothing he’s teared off from his shirt as a makeshift gauze.

“Put your guns down or she dies,” Yuta taunts, eyes glowering, an arm wrapped tightly across your neck. “Down!” He growls when no one does as they’re told.

Renjun and Johnny are the first follow his commands, slowly lowering to the ground and putting their weapons on the ground and raising their arms in the air shortly after as the others behind them follow suit. Johnny keeps a close eye on Taeyong on the ground and sees that Taeyong is by now, barely moving, the colour of his skin becoming drained of colour at an alarming rate.

Your hands are clasped on Yuta’s arm, tears brimming down your face at the sight of Taeyong struggling to keep his eyes open. There’s a piece of cloth covering your mouth and any noise you make comes out in inaudible muffles. You try to break free from Yuta’s grip, tugging down at his arm every now and again but his strength only seems to grow with each passing minute. Johnny is the only familiar face in the crowd but even seeing him, doesn’t give you much comfort.

When Mark and Jeno enter the scene from different ends of the room, they immediately position themselves in a secluded corner to prepare for what’s to come. Mark sets up his sniper on the ground, his eyes locked on you the moment he catches sight of you. His heart breaks when he studies you, even as he crouches down to align his sight to his viewer. You looked exhausted, your hair disheveled and sticking up in various places, your body looking as weak as ever as you desperately try to cling onto Yuta just to hold yourself up, your sunken features evident as ever behind your tears. Your clothes are dirty and splattered with dirt and when Mark takes a closer look, he can see blood stains on your shirt.

Jaemin and Donghyuck arrive at the scene and just when Donghyuck is about to run over to Taeyong to help him, Jaemin stops him by holding him back when he sees Yuta in the middle of the room.

“Yuta we don’t have to do this,” Johnny warns lowly, inching a little closer to Yuta in the most subtle way possible.

“You all started this,” Yuta spits and tightens his grip around you even more, making you tilt your head further up just as to not restrict your airway. “If you had taken my no for an answer, we wouldn't have gotten to this.” He gestures at Taeyong with a nod of his head.

Mark aligns his viewer to Yuta, who now has his back facing him, still oblivious to his presence.

“Yuta-”

A gunshot is fired and it’s followed by a scream.

You let out a muffled scream when you see the person beside Johnny crouch down in pain when Yuta’s bullet penetrates his leg. “Renjun!” Jaemin exclaims and flies out of his spot to help the his friend.

Yuta fires his gun up in the air once again and it startles you so much the shaking of your limbs don't stop. “I said no one fucking move!”

Renjun groans in pain as Jaemin presses his palm to his wound to stop the bleeding. “Somebody help Taeyong!” Donghyuck screams when he looks to see Taeyong suffering by himself, a pool of blood beside him becoming bigger with each second that passes.

“One more person move and I'm killing y/n!” Yuta screams, his gun now pointing back at you. “I mean it! I’m serious! No one fucking move!”

“Taeyong needs help now,” Donghyuck snarls under his breath loud enough for Johnny to hear. Mark hears this over the line and aims for the back of Yuta’s head stealthily.

“Johnny, help Taeyong,” Mark speaks in his mic quietly while Johnny listens without moving an inch. “If Yuta shoots, Jeno and I have visuals. We’re right here with you. Everybody else, be on guard your surroundings, there may be some of Yuta’s men left.”

Not withstanding the sight of two injured people right before your eyes any longer, you gather the last remaining bit of your strength your body can muster and lift up your leg only for you to stomp in on top of Yuta’s foot forcefully. Yuta groans in pain and that’s when you take your chance to elbow him in the gut, making him let go of you momentarily as Johnny uses this opportunity to dart to Taeyong who’s just on the verge of passing out.

Donghyuck holds his breath when Yuta grabs a hold of you again and that’s when you come into full view in Mark’s direction, your whole face appearing in his viewer, his target now becoming you as Yuta keeps a hold of you again across the neck, ready to pull the trigger. You yelp loudly, the cloth falling off your mouth after having the chance of tearing it apart from your mouth in the short seconds that passed. Mark’s skin grows cold as he shuffles to slightly shift his sniper to Yuta who’s face is dangerously close to yours, making it almost impossible to penetrate through him without harming you.

“Shit,” Mark curses under his breath.

You continue to struggle under Yuta’s hold and you’re sure he’s going to shoot you when you hear the faint sound of the trigger clicking. Jaemin’s attention shifts to the group when the remainder of Yuta’s men flood in, everyone suddenly shooting in different directions to get rid of them.

And it all happens in no less than a second.

Half a second is all it takes for Mark to make his shot, heart racing and sweat running profusely down the side of his face, the feeling of nerves flooding in like waves just like that time he had tried to shoot you for the first time as he lets go of the trigger he’s been trying to hard save for the right moment. Half a second is all it takes to make get his target. All the successful critical shots he’s fired before didn’t matter to him anymore because all that mattered now was if this one saved your life.

Either he succeeds by taking down Yuta or blames himself for the rest of his life for killing you instead.

You drop to the floor, your knees landing first, your ears ringing, your head pounding against your skull. You’re sure you saw the bullet whizz past you and you’re not quite sure if you’re the one hit. But Yuta falls right next to you, his whole body collapsing to the ground, face first, blood streaming out of his head like a waterfall.

Mark just killed the person responsible for your parents’ death.

Your shaking hands are trying to block out all the gunshots that don’t stop even when Yuta falls, every single one causing you to jolt. And when you realise what had just happened, you croak out a weak sob, the utter fear and exhaustion getting the best of you.

Someone’s yelling in the distance, but you can't make out what they’re saying when the ringing in your ears don’t stop. And through the blur of your tears, someone’s running over to you, the sun that’s shining in your eyes making it impossible for you to decipher who it is when the person’s silhouette is the only thing you see.

But then he holds you. And that’s when you know who it is.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Mark’s exclaims, his hands grabbing a hold of either of your shoulders, lightly shaking you to bring you back to life. Your eyes finally refocus and that’s when you see him, Mark Lee is there, eyes so worried and features still as perfect as you remember them to be. “Y/n! Are you okay?”

You don’t say anything, too overwhelmed from having missed him so much, from having wondered days on end if you’d ever get to see him, from having been so incredibly scared for you life. So when your words betray you, your waterworks take over. You lower your head down, too ashamed and embarrassed for Mark to see you in this state. But when the gunshots die down until they completely halt, Mark moves closer to you and uses his index finger to gently lift your chin upwards. “Hey look at me,” he says quietly, his features softening. And you do, you look at him even when your tears are making it difficult to do so. “You’re okay now. You’re safe,” he comforts you, pulling you into his embrace.

“I am so sorry for being so late.”

And you break down in his arms, for so many reasons.

But the biggest one being that,

It was all finally over.

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fuckinuchihas · 4 years ago

Note

For the "your love story" game

Kuroo (obviously) for crush, I love the makes a (secret) bet but they fall for real trope. (I love me some angst to fluff), she/her pronouns, I'm an ISFP-T, long (like halfway down my back length and I'm about 5'6 I think) brown to blonde ombre hair, blue eyes, Caucasian. I really like the cold and the rain and think kisses in the rain after being chased after an argument or something are super sweet and romantic. I love the fall (especially the way the leaves look and how it smells) and the winter. I like cupcakes and Halloween is my favorite holiday.

Okay my precious 🥺 anon...so very few of these character details were mentioned and I’m sorry if you don’t feel it was personal enough but I really tried and I think (hope) you’ll love it anyway. Ilysm

Your Love Story with Kuroo Tetsuro!

“Oh I bet you won’t,” were the words that would forever haunt him.

“Hey there, kitten,” Kuroo teased, gently brushing a stray lock of hair over your shoulder.

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, looking at him as if his head had grown three sizes.

“What? Can’t a guy just say hi to a cute girl on their way to the library?” he asks, and your eyes narrow in suspicion.

You don’t know what to do with that so you do nothing and just continue on your walk.

“So anything in particular you’re looking for today?” he asks, his fingertips trailing over the titles of the stack of books in your arm. “I could carry those for you if you like.”

“N-no,” you say, shaking your head awkwardly. Why is the hot volleyball captain talking to you again? You think to yourself but because you’re curious you don’t shut it down. Maybe partially that and also maybe you’re too nervous to actually ask for more information so the easiest route seems to be what’s best.

He doesn’t talk again until you get to the library and he actually looks...nervous? No that can’t be right but there’s a hesitance as you reach the door.

It seems to fade away and he moves closer into your space and you instinctively back away.

“Whaddya say you grab coffee with me sometime?” he asks, and you look around to see if anyone is watching, recording, something because it feels incredibly strange that you’re being cornered by one of the most popular guys on campus and he’s asking you out?

“No,” you say again, because you’re not really sure what’s going on but it can’t be good.

He visibly flinches and backs away and for a moment you feel guilt trickle down your spine.

He nods at you and starts to back away but you’re curious so you stop him with a single word. “Why?”

He shrugs, “I think you’re cool…”

“Okay,” you say, before you can stop yourself and the smile he gives you is bright enough to warm your heart.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

“A CLOWN CAR?” you gasp in surprise. “Kuroo where the heck am I supposed to find a clown car in the middle of town?”

“I guess you’ll just have to look for one,” he says with a casual shrug.

‘I swear, if I can’t finish this list I will murder you,” you lie, it’s already been one of the most amazing days you’ve ever had and you want nothing more than to finish out the game and give him a huge kiss to his cheek.

It’s your third date and he’s arranged a Scavenger Hunt just for the two of you. It’s by far one of the most awesome things you’ve ever participated in and you absolutely love the adventurous feeling that makes your heart race whenever you find a new item.

“I may have an inside source if you’re interested,” he says with a raised brow and you feel yourself flush.

“No, that’s cheating…” you say, and he nods in agreement.

But then when you’re still looking twenty minutes later, he nonchalantly mentions that Lev has plans to go to the circus in a suburb of your city and you visibly deflate with relief.

So maybe it’s cheating...but since the tip came from the creator of said, game you think maybe it’s okay.

“I could kiss you!” you squeal, not even thinking about the connotations.

“Well what’s stopping you?” he asks, leaning down in and overdramatically puckering his lips.

You shove his shoulder until he’s a little further away and try to hide the heat on your neck and cheeks.

“Stop that, we’ve got a clown car to find!”

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

“Dude, have you kissed her yet? I’m not waiting another three weeks. If you don’t make a move soon I’m just going to steal your jacket and you’ll have to do what I say then!” Lev said, a sly grin on his lips.

“First, my jacket wouldn’t fit over your gigantic shoulders, but more importantly, it’s not something you can rush,” Kuroo said. “A lady needs to be romanced.”

Tears trickle onto your cheeks.

A bet...you were just a bet to him…

“Oh hey, you’re here too! Look Kuroo they’re here too!” Lev says, waving to you with a big smile.

Kuroo turns and you see his eyes widen just a little and that’s it. You aren’t frozen anymore and you take off toward the door moving as quickly as you possibly can.

The rain hits you the second you’re out the door but you ignore it, you’re not going back for your umbrella, not when he’s there.

Of course, of course you were a bet.

Why did you honestly believe anything differently?

He’s one of the most popular guys on campus and what are you? You’re a giant nerd that gets excited by things like scavenger hunts and science puns.

Fuck.

It hurts.

It’s only been a few weeks but you really did let yourself fall.

Idiot.

You hear him calling your name but you can’t respond, not and risk the chance of him seeing your tears under the rain. You won’t give him the satisfaction to know he got to you, you can’t...if you show weakness he wins.

He wins.

It's a battle.

It was never love.

It’s a war.

You don’t know if it’s just your feelings taking over or if you’ve just had a mental break but you stop. The cold rain pouring over your skin and clothes, you feel it’s icy breath inside your lungs and you turn to him and force a smile.

You walk closer.

He tries to cover you with an umbrella but you pay it no mind.

You step into his space and you wrap a hand to the back of his neck and you pull him in.

You kiss him with everything you have. Every bit of love, pain and pleasure you’ve felt these last three weeks. You feel him start to pull away but then he leans in and he kisses you back and you bite at his lips, tasting the salt of your tears. When you pull away you can feel your own heart shatter in your chest.

“Job well done, Captain.” you say, before turning around and walking away leaving a frozen Tetsuro behind you.

“You feel the rain pouring down on you again and it feels right, because somehow it would have been so much worse if the world around you seemed brighter or happier when there was a gaping hole in your chest.

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

“Just give me five minutes,” he says, in a rush to catch up to you.

It’s the first time you’ve forced yourself out of the house in three days and of course you just had to run into the one person you didn’t want to see.

How many fucking people are in this town anyway? 3?

‘Sure,” you say, turning to him with a blank expression. “Say whatever it is you need to say, Kuroo. So I can get my shit done without a shadow.”

“I-I didn’t really expect you to do it…”

“I don’t have all day, so talk.”

Your name leaves his lips and if you were weaker, you’d focus on the way it sounds broken or the way his eyes go soft and sad when he says it.

But you’re not.

This is war and you plan to win.

“I’m so sorry, please you heard all the wrong parts of that conversation…”

The nerve of this guy.

“Okay, and the right parts were what exactly?”

Kuroo seems nervous as he rubs a hand awkwardly on the back of his neck.

“I uh, the bet was not really about being captain or anything it-the guys wanted to give me a push to um, to make a move on you.”

“Okay, is that it?” you say, blinking at him trying to remain unphased.

“I-um, no?”

“Then what is it, Kuroo? What? You were nice to me for a few weeks and I was nice back and suddenly you give a shit about my feelings now?’ you say, shaking your head at him. “You should have thought about that when you accepted a bet that meant playing with someone’s feelings as if they were just a toy.”

“What? What do you mean? Kit-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that word to me not ever again,” you say, coldly gritting your teeth together. “You got your kiss Captain, and you’ve explained. We’re done here.”

It’s your name breaking on his lips that pierces through your chest like a knife.

“I love you-” he says, his hand gently wrapping around your wrist to keep you in place.

You almost give in...it’s so fucking tempting. He’s gorgeous, and funny and that smirk is a weapon you weren’t prepared for and seeing him vulnerable like this, it’s not fun and it doesn’t warm your heart at all.

“So you took a bet and then you fell for me and now I’m what? I’m just supposed to say, oooh okay Kuroo I love you too, let’s be together forever?” you ask with the most ridiculously fake enthusiasm you can muster.

He looks like he’s about to say something sarcastic, just a teasing remark. Something that would have settled you before, but now would be like a piece of barbed wire digging into the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the one that took that bet, Kuroo but I’m the one who lost.”

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

Two months go by.

Well...57 days.

Every day there’s a yellow gerber daisy under the wiper blade of your car.

Every day it hurts.

You’re just about to tell him to cut it out so you can move on when a familiar figure approaches you.

“So uh, look I’m not trying to bother you or anything. And if you want me to go away I will just-I want you to know that I messed up talking about that stuff but Kuroo says that’s okay because you deserved to know...but also like he’s sad all the time now and I don’t think I can fix it…’

“Lev, I appreciate the effort but-”

“No no, listen. He’s never umm… don’t tell anyone but Kuroo’s never really dated before. I know, he seems like a cocky asshole...he is a cocky asshole actually, one time he made me-”

“LEV!” you say, unable to listen to his rambling for much longer, as much as you did kind of did think his puppy dog personality was adorable.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. He just-he’s liked you for a long time so the guys were teasing him, just little stuff y’know and Yaku said it was time for him to make a move on you because he uh-he’d wasted too long at the sidelines. So then I said if he didn’t get you to kiss him I’d steal his place as team captain. It wasn’t even really a bet, but the guys backed me up just because they knew nothing would be worse to Kuroo than letting me be captain, even for one game.”

“While I appreciate the...story I have other things to do. Could you please ask him to stop with this?” you say, pointing at the flower still sitting on top of your car.

“BUT HE LOVES YOU!” Lev says, with all the power of his nearly seven feet tall frame.

“I know,” you say.

“AND YOU LOVE HIM!”

The words hit differently than you expect and instead of pain or glass shuddering it’s sunshine and warmth and butterflies. It’s the way he smiled at you as you tried for the third time to get a picture of that sheep that wouldn’t stay still. It’s the soft way he wiped your face with a napkin after he bumped into you making the whipped cream from your dessert splash on your nose. It was dozens of small moments just like this that screamed. “YES I LOVE HIM”

“It’s too lat-”

“It’s not, you can have him, he can have you, you guys can be happy. Just-Just tell him you love him too.”

“I-” you don’t know what to say to that because that hole you’ve had in your chest, the emptiness...a single thought of him could patch it up in an instant.

“Lev? What are you doing here!”

His tone was sharp and cutting as he tried to drag his friend away but before you could stop yourself you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around his back.

Kuroo froze, you held tighter.

“It’s not war,” you say quietly into the soft fabric of his jacket.

He just stands there, seemingly too nervous to turn around and face you.

‘It’s not war, Kuroo...you messed up but it’s still love. It can still be love.”

Slowly he drops his grip on Lev’s shoulder and he turns to face you.

“I-” he swallows visibly. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means I’m still upset by what you did but I love you and I’m not going to make myself miserable over it anymore. You can make it up to me...if you um, if you still want to I mean,” you say, the nervous flutters in your belly coming back in an instant.

“YES! YES! JESUS FUC-YES,” he says, pulling you to his chest as if he’s terrified you’re going to disappear.

“Kuroo you’re such a nerd...wait til the rest of the guys hear about this,” Lev says, grinning like a smug calico.

“Lev,” you say, and he turns to you with that same grin. “If you so much as think about this moment ever again you’ll be wishing I’d just killed you.”

His eyes went wide and he slowly backed away from the two of you.

“You-you’re just as bad as him!”

Kuroo smiles down at you, his eyes are a bit glassy but you don't mention it.

“That’s my girl.”

★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★

MASTERLIST

#not naruto #not knb #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo loves you and so do i #🥺anon #my stuff #kel answers #love story game #your love story

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passivenovember · 4 years ago

Text

i was tagged by: @opaldraws and some others. I’ve done this once before but I thought, since it’s New Year Eve and I’m feeling sappy as fuck--let’s get into the specifics of WHY I love you and WHAT you did for me this year that I appreciated, so. Let’s get into it?

the rules: tag five or more people that you are thankful for in your 2020, that you’re thankful exists in a world that’s hard to live in. whether that be through random reblogs on your posts, or people you have had full blown conversations with. whether it’s just seeing them on your dash, or interacting with them.

First, I must say @opaldraws . You were the first person to ever ask me for a commission, and. With that small “hey can you write me something for halloween?” I was like. Of all the people in fandom you asked me, and I legitimately cried. It felt like someone believed in me or saw value in what I do, and just. Thank you. I love you, I love your work, I love the comission you did for me with Max and Erica as the slayer, and I hope to work with you again in the future. You deserve all the sunshine in the world.

Next. @cherrydreamer . My sweetest friend, my first friend in the fandom. Possibly the only reason I keep writing some days--how do I even? Thank you. For brining your light into my life. I’ve needed someone like you around for a long time and it’s so weird that fandom brought us together? that an EVIL AND ILLEGAL PAIRING LIKE HARRINGROVE brought you into my life, but. I feel like I’ve known you for at least five years and I hope to know you for many more. Through Stranger Things and beyond--thank you.

@coffeeandchemicals . Honey bun. I love you. You’re another reason I keep writing, always sending me prompts and bouncing ideas off me, I just. Wow? So happy that we decided to be friends in the most neuro divergent way ever, like. Hey would you be interested in being my pal? Your writing is gorgeous. Thank you for letting me read your festival entry, thank you for letting me bother you with my writing break downs, thank you for making me laugh. I adore the absolute shit out of you.

@heck-in-a-handbasket . Hey. Um, idk if you know this but--you’re probably the coolest cat in town. I think most everyone would agree with me when I say being befriended by you is like, getting a gold star for succumbing to sin and YOUR WRITING. Holy shit, your writing. Your book and the novella and the fic--and the smut cave, which is the only group chat I’ve ever been a part of that doesn’t irritate me--has been such a gift. You’re just the coolest. wowowow. thanks <3

@shewritesdirty . Cait thank you for being my other goth half in this fandom. Thank you for loving Halloween as much as I do, and body horror, and just being a goddamn ray of absolute sunshine every time we speak. You make me laugh--you’re a super star. I adore you.

@catharrington . Hey. We’re not so different, you and I. Thank you for somehow making me care about catboy. You’re so fucking funny, so sweet, and whenever you address me directly in the smut cave I know I have a 99% chance of laughing so hard I can’t breathe, while simultaneously blushing. In public. Over some quality filth. Rock on <3

@rvspberryjvm . Jones ilysm. You’re just the freakin best. Funny and smart and cool, I love your fic. I love that you send me Elmax stuff and that you share pics of the zines with me because you know I missed the boat. You have the biggest heart and someday, soon my good sir/they--we will share a bowl together.

@prettyboyporter . Tee I don’t think you realize how much you helped me by just. Existing this year? We both went through some big changes and even though we never spoke super directly about them, it helped me so much to know someone else was going through the ringer out there. You’re so funny and badass (that desk you broke down and moved on your own? so hot of you). Pretty Boy Porter was one of my favorite reads this year, and. Thank you for welcoming me into your space. Not everyone deserves a piece of us and I’m grateful that, somehow, you thought I did.

Anyway, there’s probably folks I’m forgetting. There always is, but. This year has been hard and I just felt like I should say how much I love you all. Thanks for helping me get through one hell of a year.

#also if i tagged you and you've already done it #ignore this #love ya bye

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chibistarlyte · 4 years ago

Text

one day

He's okay, Katsuki has to remind himself again, almost afraid that Todoroki might slip right through his calloused fingers if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

ayyy here’s a follow-up to my previous todobaku fic some days, this time from bakugou’s pov as he deals with the aftermath of todoroki’s depressive episode.

thank you to kat @sunshineijirou for the beta, as always! <3 ilysm!

fic can be read below the cut or here on ao3! you can also find a masterlist of all my bnha fics here!

If someone had told Katsuki, when he woke up this morning, that by this afternoon he’d be spooning with his secret crush after said secret crush jumped down to his balcony in some kind of depressive fit…

Suffice to say that Katsuki would have never believed it, even if his life depended on it.

Yet here he is, arms wrapped around Todoroki Shouto’s waist and his face buried in the back of his neck as the other boy sleeps peacefully in his bed. Or, Katsuki assumes peacefully, judging by the light snores and soft, lax features of Todoroki’s face.

Well, Katsuki thinks as he breathes a warm sigh against the other boy’s still frigid skin, at least Todoroki is safe now. It would be an outright lie to say that Katsuki hasn’t been worried about Todoroki all goddamn day, ever since he saw the other boy sitting precariously on the edge of his balcony and uttering uncharacteristic existential thoughts earlier that morning.

Just a little bit ago, when Todoroki had jumped...Katsuki’s heart had all but stopped in his chest.

Unconsciously, Katsuki tightens his grip around Todoroki and digs his nose deeper into the soft skin at the nape of Todoroki’s neck, breathing in his scent. He’s okay. He’s okay.

Katsuki jolts as he hears a loud buzzing noise, his palms sweaty and sparking in his alarm. He quickly retracts his arms from around Todoroki, afraid of burning the other boy with his Quirk. Katsuki belatedly realizes the sound is his phone vibrating on top of the headboard. Wiping his sweaty hands on his shirt as he sits up, he reaches for his phone and unlocks it with a click. A notification bubble at the bottom of the screen tells him the class 1-A group chat is active with messages right now.

Midoriya: hey guys has anyone seen todoroki-kun since class was over? he left before i could catch up with him and he hasn’t answered any of my texts and when i went to his room to check on him he didn’t answer… Uraraka: i haven’t seen him since our rescue exercise, deku-kun. are you sure he came back to the dorms? Midoriya: i mean i’m not positive but where else would he go? Iida: Todoroki-kun has been acting strangely all day...perhaps he heeded our advice and sought out Recovery Girl? Kaminari: nah bruh, i was at rg’s office after class for my broken wrist, i didn’t see him there Tokoyami: I can have Dark Shadow scope out the area and look for Todoroki, if needed. Yaoyorozu: I am worried about Todoroki-san. He wasn’t acting like himself today, and I fear to think what would happen if he’s alone right now. Jirou: which room is his???? i can listen in and see if hes there Kirishima: he’s on the fifth floor, right above bakugou’s room

Katsuki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great, now Todoroki has the entire class worried after him. They’d send out a goddamn search party if Katsuki doesn’t say something.

So he starts typing.

Bakugou: relax u damn extras, icyhot’s with me

There’s a short pause in the chat as several people begin typing and soon enough the messages flood right in.

Midoriya: what???? todoroki-kun is with you, kacchan?! Jirou: shit, dude, he must be fucked in the head to go hang out with explody Kirishima: is he ok?? are u guys in ur room bakubro? Mina: DID U KIDNAP THE POOR LAD, BAKUGOU?!? Uraraka: can we come see him?

Katsuki lets out a frustrated sigh and thumbs back a response.

Bakugou: if any of you assholes even think about coming and pounding on my door, i’ll break ur fuckin fingers. halfie’s asleep so you chucklefucks need to keep quiet

As if to make sure the group chat hadn’t somehow awoken Todoroki from his slumber, Katsuki looks away from his phone to the sleeping boy next to him. Not much has changed in the last few minutes, save for a slight twitching of Todoroki’s nostril and the fingers of his right hand slightly curling and unfurling.

When his phone pings with another message, Katsuki sees that it’s from Kirishima. He opens their text messages.

Kirishima: hey bakubro is everything ok?? i mean not just with todoroki but with u too? Bakugou: i’m fine, shitty hair. not sure about him, tho Bakugou: he was pretty messed up when i brought him in Kirishima: what happened? Bakugou: the crazy fucker jumped from his balcony down to mine like an idiot, coulda hurt himself Kirishima: … Kirishima: ...was he trying to Kirishima: u kno…

Katsuki doesn’t want to think about the reasons behind Todoroki’s actions, behind the other boy’s strange and despondent behavior all day. He knows Todoroki’s got family issues, with what he’d overheard at the sports festival in their first year. Then, after having dinner at the Todoroki household and interning with Endeavor all those months ago, Katsuki has been able to put the pieces together well enough.

He scoots down the bed until he’s lying down again, his arm against Todoroki’s back as he holds his phone up to text with Kirishima.

Bakugou: idk, he hasn’t told me anything, just basically been a zombie the whole fuckin time. he was so cold and he wasn’t usin his quirk to warm up, bastard’s lucky he didn’t get hypothermia or some shit Kirishima: do u need anything? Bakugou: i told u, i’m fine Kirishima: ok...but srsly, i’m here for u if u need to talk...or if i can bring you anything, yeah? Bakugou: yeah, yeah, i get it hair for brains Bakugou: ...thanks Kirishima: i gotchu bro

Katsuki sets his phone on silent before locking it and placing it up on his headboard again. He rolls onto his side, chest against Todoroki’s back once again, and reaches around to touch the back of his hand to the other boy’s forehead. It still feels colder than it probably should, but warmer than before, which Katsuki counts as progress.

He settles his arms around Todoroki’s waist again and scoots closer until they’re flush against each other. Katsuki tangles his legs with Todoroki’s to help warm them up—Todoroki’s bare ankles feel cold against Katsuki’s own heated skin.

He's okay, Katsuki has to remind himself again, almost afraid that Todoroki might slip right through his calloused fingers if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

"You really fuckin' scared me there for sec, half-n-half," Katsuki murmurs against the back of Todoroki’s neck, feeling the moisture of his own breath bouncing back at him from their close proximity. "The hell did you think you were doing?" he asks the air, knowing full well that Todoroki is dead asleep and can't hear a word Katsuki is saying.

And thank fuck for that, because Katsuki can't seem to shut himself up and continues speaking.

"Don't you realize how many people care about your stupid ass? How important you are to everyone? Fucking Deku, Round Face, Four-Eyes, Yaomomo...me…"

Katsuki clenches his jaw to stop his mouth from betraying him any further. He has no idea what's compelling him to such honesty. Perhaps it's because he knows Todoroki can't hear him, knows that he won't have to suffer any unfortunate consequences of having his feelings laid bare in front of him.

Just...seeing Todoroki fly through the air, even if it was only for a few seconds...Katsuki could have forever lost the chance to say all the things he wishes he were brave enough to admit.

He sighs through his nose, his teeth gritting painfully against each other as he tightens his jaw even more. Fucking coward, he chastises himself.

"Bakugou?"

Katsuki's heart stills in his chest as Todoroki’s confused, sleep-laden voice drifts into his senses. Todoroki stiffens in his grip, muscles tense and taut, almost as if he's afraid of something. Unconsciously, Katsuki's arms tighten around the other boy’s waist and he finds his hands pressing almost protectively against Todoroki’s abdomen.

"I'm here," he answers belatedly, nuzzling his nose against Todoroki’s skin—still too cold for his liking, but ever so slowly getting warmer.

Todoroki exhales, going boneless in Katsuki's arms. There's a minute shift of his head as he digs his cheek into the pillow. "I...didn't dream it, then…" he says a bit absently, sounding so, so tired.

"Dream what?" Katsuki asks softly, his fingers tracing odd shapes on Todoroki’s skin.

"That I was here...with you," Todoroki clarifies, letting out another exhale that made him deflate like a balloon with too many leaks.

Katsuki is unable to keep from snorting. "Couldn't very well let you leave after you just—" He stops himself from finishing that thought, because the idea that Todoroki really might have been trying to off himself was too much for Katsuki to handle. "Look, you could barely walk and were hardly coherent enough to make it back to your room. I couldn't let you leave and end up hurting yourself or some shit."

Todoroki lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

"Don't you fucking laugh at me, you bastard," Katsuki says without any real threat. "Sorry for fucking caring about your stupid ass."

It's then that Todoroki starts to pull away, curling in on himself. He untangles his legs from Katsuki's and worms his way out of Katsuki's arms until he’s at the edge of the bed, the two of them no longer touching.

Katsuki's heart sinks into his stomach. Damn it, there goes his stupid mouth ruining everything again.

"You shouldn't care about me," Todoroki says, sounding miles away.

"Why the fuck not?" Katsuki bites back, not liking where this conversation has turned.

"I'm not worth it," Todoroki repeats his words from earlier, and they still feel like a knife stabbing right through Katsuki's chest.

He doesn't understand why someone like Todoroki could ever think he's worthless.

It makes him...angry.

"What the fuck is it gonna take for you to realize that you are worth it?" Katsuki says in a harsh whisper, trying to reign in his rage. He knows if he explodes now, he might chase Todoroki off and cause him to do...something…

Todoroki doesn't answer.

Against his better judgment, Katsuki reaches for Todoroki’s back. His fingers barely graze the black t-shirt he's wearing before he notices a significant drop in temperature. Frost begins crawling up the shell of Todoroki’s ear.

"No, no, stop that," Katsuki says as he frantically scoots closer. He envelops Todoroki in his arms once again, willing his own body heat into the other boy to cancel out the freezing power of his Quirk.

To Katsuki's surprise, Todoroki shifts and rolls over so that they're face to face. Tears snake sideways down Todoroki’s face and melt into the pillowcase. Katsuki feels incredibly guilty for still finding Todoroki so beautiful.

Katsuki's hands find the small of Todoroki’s back, his fingers tangling in the cotton of his t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," Todoroki chokes out, squirming and wiggling until his face is hidden against Katsuki’s chest.

"Nothin' to be sorry for, icyhot. We all got shit to deal with," Katsuki mutters into Todoroki’s hair, wanting to lay a kiss along the part of red and white. But he refrains.

Todoroki just nods. Katsuki can feel his tears soak into his shirt.

They stay like that for what could have been moments or hours, for all Katsuki knows. When he hears Todoroki’s breathing even out again, and notices a faint warmth pulsating through the air, Katsuki sighs in relief.

It's amazing how one day can change so many things, he muses. Katsuki's world has been tilted off its axis in the span of mere hours, making him reevaluate almost everything he's come to learn about himself, about Todoroki. He knows, without a doubt, that he cares for the idiot in his arms. His moment of clarity had come the second Todoroki had let go of the railing.

Katsuki swears to himself that he'll make Todoroki realize how much he matters to everyone. And, maybe one day, how much he matters to Katsuki.

#todobaku #todobaku fic #tdbk #tdbk fic #bakutodo #bakutodo fic #bnha #bnha fic #my writing

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redeemedrevolver · 4 years ago

Note

😂 and ❤️ (ilysm)

Oh man you’re in for a big treat HAHAHAHA

😂: Funniest Line

I just love writing this part so much because of Bell (from Know Who’s Boss; fem!Bell/Jason Hudson):

“If I were to be looking decent, might as well let Alex take my place instead,” Frank caviled, crossing his arms, furrowing his brow at Park looking at him funnily.

“Ah… no,” Alex approached from behind, patting his back affectionately, irritating Frank further at his own liking.

“It’ll just be for a day. You can burn it once it’s over,” Bell turned to check on her usual get-up and leather jacket, making sure everything was packed and ready.

“Woods! Don’t even think about it!” Hudson’s voice beamed, walking to him as he handed out more ties to Park, eliciting a growl from Frank, standing still before Park, who was tilting her head into finding suitable neckties for him.

I’m gonna be generous and give you four (I’m not kidding) because I’m literally lost. I just love them.

❤️: My favorite line (1)

from “I Cross My Heart” (male!Bell/Helen Park & male!Bell/Russell Adler - UNRELEASED CHAPTER):

Bell stood, taking the papers, arranging them back inside the folder in the correct format. Walking to the open window letting in the cold air, he gazed at the sight of London: an old lady walking with her dog at the sidewalk, kids playing at their porches, a couple hugging by the taxi before they said their goodbyes.

His eyes darted everywhere, looking for more information to take in, but no information was deemed too important from where he’s standing, in terms of his line of work.

It was all for leisure, a word Bell pondered and thought of the countless things he could do if he got out of this alive.

He was alive, but not in heaven nor hell – purgatory wasn’t on his list either – only in London in a house, a house that sheltered him from every single thing he thought could bring harm to him if ever he stepped out.

But harm wasn’t the only thing he had to take in mind.

Trust was stamped, broken, soon to be built, only if the bricks were strong enough to be held immaculately in place as a group on a wall. But Bell expected it to be brought down again – a never-ending cycle.

❤️: My favorite line (2)

from “I Cross My Heart” (male!Bell/Helen Park & male!Bell/Russell Adler - UNRELEASED CHAPTER):

Park didn’t have any choice, but the woman, in particular, may just be playing the whole game out to save face – for MI6 that is – and to redeem herself; an apology adulterated enough to let a man get back to his supposed paramour – only to be broken and be left on the ground waiting for another walk back from said supposed lover; a repetitive cycle.

Bell didn’t want to let her slide that easily despite the help given, blurring the line of being genuine, or being deceiving to feast her or everyone’s motives.

Whatever – or wherever – life will bring him to at this point, he would always be a blank slate, a weapon to be wielded by anyone in hopes to assert dominance in the Cold War.

An asset. A disposable asset if deemed useless. A pawn or chess piece on board, waiting to be moved, to kill or get killed out of the circumstances and outside forces.

❤️: My favorite line (3)

from “To Hell They Go” (Alex Mason/Frank Woods):

If Alex’s voice was his drug, the rehabilitation from it would be demureness, refraining from plunging deep into their prolonged absence from each other’s arms that would soon lead to bursts of broken passion in one night if they would be together.

❤️: My favorite line (4)

from “Somebody To Watch Over Me” [Alex Mason/Frank Woods - after the Korean War Canon Divergent AU(1954); set before(or will never set before) BO1]:

“Alex? Are you sure you wanna go further? We can stop if you want,” Frank asks, breath heaving, unsure as he traces his fingers at the multitude of hickeys he left on Alex’s neck, twitching a smirk from the latter.

Alex shakes and nods his head at the same time. “No! I wanna go further,” he stutters, lust-blown eyes not letting let him coordinate with his mind as his hands are now absentmindedly meandering Frank’s broad and toned back.

Frank smiles, bringing his fingers to tilt Alex’s chin up, thumb encircling his plump lips lovingly. “No need to rush, sweetheart. We have all the time tonight,” he says, tone calming.

Alex shivers from the sweet name Frank uttered, knees almost buckling, almost collapsing to the floor, but he’s in his hold.

It is not too tight to be suffocating, but it’s at the right pressure one can succumb in – a stark contrast from what people realize his hot-headed sergeant’s hands, strength, and grip will maim their bodies if one takes the piss in the wrong direction.

The same hands used to snap someone’s neck, break their bones, when used to hold Alex, will bring warmth, love, and comfort.

For Alex, no matter how many times he teases him, pushes or shoves him, or even calls him names, it’s vehement and feathery.

Despite Frank’s calloused hands holding him into a firm yet gentle embrace, it is something Alex doesn’t know the other will bring protection against peril and judgment in their lives.

#thank you! ❤️

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dear-felony · 4 years ago

Text

i’m gonna put my notes for you here, just in case i’m not here when you are. i’m so sorry i only was able to do them for the first three weeks. ilysm, i’m gonna miss you with everything. @lovely-demon-loved-by-knight

~~~

I realized that you wouldn’t have hugs from me while you’re gone. So I’m gonna leave some hugs right here and whenever you need one, you just use it then, okay?

>> *wraps u in a soft blanket and sits down next to you. puts both my arms around you and holds you close for as long as you need*

>> *holds u very tight to me n rubs your back*

>> *soft, long and safe hug*

5/25

Dear Felony,

I know today is probably so hard for you. I don’t want to add to your anxiety or your pain about leaving, so I’m just gonna make you a little calm place instead. Imagine we’re sitting together on a picnic blanket in the grass under a big tree. The picnic blanket is light blue and soft, and we’re both cross legged and leaning against each other. I’m laying out lemonade and cucumber cream cheese sandwiches I made before you woke up. (You slept in today, because there was no need to get up, and the sounds of me in the kitchen and the birds in the trees kept you so calm.) You’re telling me a story and I’m giggling. A squirrel runs past us. Everything is calm and safe. You’ve got this, Covi. I love you so much.

5/26

Dear Covi,

Since this is a road trip, I’m guessing you’ll be in a car at some point today. If you are, would you do me a favour and look out at the trees as they pass? Looking out of car windows is so universal. You’re looking at the trees and ground rushing past there, and however many miles away, I will too. We’re together in that moment. And since I’m with you, know that I’m squeezing your hand and telling you I’m proud of you.

5/27

Dear Covi,

Today I’m gonna tell you some of my favourite colours. Maybe when you get back, you can tell me yours. Or you can write them down somewhere now and send them when you get wifi. I’d like to hear them. My collection of colours: passion tea, the sunset, sunlight shining through leaves, the farthest water away from the shore, wet moss, male mallard ducks’ feathers, theatre popcorn, fox fur, honey, brick, and rose quartz. I hope you’re doing okay my Felony, and I hope you find a new colour for your own collection today.

5/28

Dear Felony,

Today I’m gonna tell you about a stuffed animal. I have a buffalo named Bull-Bull from when I was very little. (I couldn’t figure out if he was a buffalo or a bull so I called him a buffalo and named him Bull-Bull.) I remember the first time I went to the orthodontist I had him with me, and I was crying cuz I had to get an appliance and tonsil surgery and I was scared, and my orthodontist told me I could get a special case for my appliance with a buffalo on it. I never did get it, but at the time it helped calm me down. I like telling you stories. I wanna tell you all the stories of me. The little memories that maybe don’t matter but maybe do, you know? And I want to hear all of yours.

5/29

Dear Covi,

I think I will draw you lots of pictures while you are gone. Then when you get back you will have them all. Or maybe I’ll make another sideblog and post them on there each day, so I can feel closer to you. Maybe you can draw a picture for me if you want to, just to remind you that you’ll get back to me, and everything’s okay. I’m very very proud of you, Covi. I love you so much. You’ve got this.

5/30

Dear Felony,

At the dollar store near my house you can get a big bag of theatre popcorn. I really want to get that and maybe apple slices and cheese and just have a movie night with you. Or maybe you could show me Julie and the Phantoms. I would love to watch it with you. Not only am I sure I’ll love it, I’d adore just seeing you happy and being able to lean into when I want. It just sounds very soft. When you get back, if you’re still into JATP, I am definitely going to watch it. It’ll be summer, so I’ll be able to. I love you.

5/31

Dear Felony,

I hope you see a dandelion today. I don’t know if it’ll be the season for them yet, but if it’s one of the fluffy ones that’s even better. I used to hate dandelions, but it’s tiring hating things. They’re bright and pretty and I like them. I hope you see one. It will be my little forehead kiss for you.

6/1

Dear Felony,

You’ve made it through the first week!! I’m so proud of you. You can make it through the rest. I’ll give you some things to help you keep going: my soft blue blanket you can wrap around your shoulders, an aero chocolate bar (my favourite), a woven bracelet that I made you with the help of a ton of youtube tutorials, and a few of my favourite gel pens to colour with. I’m sorry they can only be imaginary, but I hope they help a little anyway.

6/2

Dear Covi,

Today I am going to give you some song lyrics. I am pretty sure I have sent you this song before, but it’s important to me you hear them now.

/ Sweetheart, you look a little tired

When did you last eat?

Come in and make yourself right at home

Stay as long as you need

Tell me, is something wrong?

If something's wrong, you can count on me

You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat \

6/3

Dear Covi,

I’m going to be honest, I’m really sad as I’m writing this. I’m thinking of how hard it’s going to be without you. I’ve tried to make these positive as much as I can, because I know you don’t deserve more worry. But it’s hard. Just know that if you miss me, I am over here missing you too. But as long as you get through, so will I. I love you so much.

6/4

Dear Felony,

It’s really late here. I wonder what time it is where you are, whether you’re cuddled in a hotel bed or in the back of your car or sneaking peeks at your phone during a long walk. I hope wherever you are I can bring you some comfort. Just imagine me under a blanket in the middle of the night, blinking away sleepiness so I can write to you. The light is on outside my door and it’s shining through the pride flag, which is pretty cool. I bet it’d make you happy. I hope you’ve seen lots of things that made you happy this trip. I want to hear all of them when you get back.

6/5

Dear Covi,

I’m proud of you, you know that? I hope you know that. I’m so, so proud of you. You have dealt with a lot, you are dealing with a lot, and you somehow still light up the world. You really do. And you don’t have to always be in touch, or always be ready to help people, to light up the world. Your existence is enough, your perseverance is enough. You deserve to take care of yourself, and to be taken care of. I’m so proud of you.

6/6

Dear Covi,

I have this really big amethyst and sometimes tiny pieces of it will break off on the edges. I save the pieces in this small box I have and they mean a lot to me. I wish I could put them in a locket and give them to you. So whenever I was holding my amethyst I knew wherever you are you’d have part of it right there too.

6/7

Dear Felony,

I wanna walk in the rain with you. I wanna run through it shielding each other with our hoodies and laughing, or walk slowly under an umbrella together watching the little streams that gather on the sides of the road. I wanna twirl you around in the soaking wet grass and then make hot chocolate with you to warm up when we get inside. I just think that’d be nice.

6/8

Dear Felony,

Two weeks!! I don’t know how you’re doing right now. I really really hope it’s alright. I’m proud of you for this, I know it’s hard. You’ve got this, I love you so much, and you know I’m thinking of you.

6/9

Dear Felony,

I wanna build a little cottage in minecraft with you and have a bunch of dogs and sheep and cats and parrots and a lil cute farm and a windmill because it’d be adorable. And I would go collect a bunch of flowers for you because I can. Ily :>

6/10

Dear Covi,

I have a little rainbow pin and it is very very cute. This is important for you to know. I wish I could get you a little one to match it.

6/11

Dear Covi,

Your daily I love you, m’person *tips hat* you are wonderful and perfect and amazing and I love you. Thank you for lighting up my world every day, even when you’re not here.

6/12

Dear Felony,

I wish you could play with my hair. That’d be… so soft. I would even let you braid it if you wanted to, even though I don’t usually let anyone braid my hair. But I just trust you. So much. And I know I’d feel so safe.

6/13

Dear Felony,

I want to memorize your handwriting. I want to read enough little notes from you that I could recognize each letter anywhere. And I want you to be able to know mine. If I could write you little notes in paper airplanes and send them to fly to your lap I’d run out of origami paper in a week.

6/14

Dear Covi,

I want to bring you little gifts every day. Like a little rock I found or a flower for you to tuck behind your ear or a little origami animal or your favourite candy that I walked to get from the store. I just love you so much and I want to show it.

6/15

Dear Felony,

You’ve made it through three weeks! I’m so frikin proud of you. You can make it through the rest, okay? And soon you’ll be back, and I will require many many long cuddles after your absence.

I’m so sorry that I didn’t have time to write a note for every day you’re gone. I hope these at least help a little, and that you can reread them if you need me. I’ll miss you so, so much. I love you with all of my heart, my knight, always.

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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which of ur fics (tag game)

thank u to @blacksquadron-rougetwo for the tag! ilysm

which fic did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got?

the one where you definitely break the jedi code. i know there’s a big audience for obi smut for yeesh that was one of my first imagines that got over 1k notes and it’s also still a lil high up in the star wars smut tag, which i know some of my friends frequent and i always wonder if they’ve read it lmao

got a better reaction than you expected?

insomnia!! i thought the idea was really dumb at first but all the love & support it’s got lowkey makes me weep and i am very grateful

is your funniest?

the one with all the inappropriate jokes; it’s filled with b99 & office references ofc and bravery & stupidity always makes me a chuckle a lil bit as well

is your darkest/angstiest?

things we lost in the fire. it’s a post-mustafar fic based in tatooine so naturally it’s very dark but it’s different from my other angst bc the whole situation is what’s angsty, rather than the relationship between the character/reader.

is your absolute favourite?

here comes the general. it’s not as smutty as i planned but anything with poe being cocky is the holy grail tbh

Is your least favourite?

one helluva a week. i forced myself to write it so that i would have something to publish and it feels very forced

was the easiest to write?

good in bed. the combination of poe dameron and dua lipa makes writing surprisingly easy.

was the hardest to write?

give the world to you. it talks about death, loss, etc and it’s a little close to home for me but i really like how it came out in the end.

has your favourite line/exchange/paragraph?

Poe knew that Shara would have adored you. He adored you. After losing her, he’d never quite felt settled. He always felt like he was looking for something, as though he were seeking out the final piece in a puzzle he didn’t even know he’d been doing. It probably goes without saying that you were the part that completed it; the person finally made him feel whole after far too many years of soul searching. If he were able to, he would have gone back in time and found you earlier. He would have met you earlier, made you his earlier. The fear of losing you in the way he’d lost his mother was so unbearable that the idea of not having spent every possible second with you terrified him. But, you were here with him now - in the rain, under the glow of the distant moon. (from northern downpour)

have you re-read the most?

the come & go series, mostly because i always forget what happens in the last part when i go to write the next🤡

would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time?

the one where he’s your safety husband. it’s a lil bit of humour and a lil bit of fluff which is personally what i enjoy in fics

are you most proud of?

i really liked how the one where you finally tell him came out! it’s one of my much earlier fics but i always love the descriptions the the phrase ‘I realised that you like her and not me and it feels like someone just skewered my heart with a lightsaber and served it to me on a plate like a fucked up hors d'oeuvres but I’m fine’ is personally what i think to be the best thing i’ve ever written lmao

no pressure tags: @karasong @rentskenobi @ohhellokenobi @obeewankenobi @bb8sworld

#tag games

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insane-control-room · 5 years ago

Text

Make a Claim

A collaborative work with the wonderful, incredible, lovely, @randomwriteronline (ilysm <<<333)

ao3 link here

inspired by her fic The Thought

After a grave mistake, the doctor finally asks him, plain as day, to make their claim their own.

“I am at my wits end, Bandit!” Doc Carver muttered in a loss as he repaired the foolhardy puppet’s strings. “I have tried everything - letters, poems, offers to help him, repair him, even repainting his chipped coat! I cannot understand how a man can be so, so oblivious!”

Bandit did not say anything, merely sighing. He was used to the Doctor’s spiel at this point.

“And to add insult to injury...! After I repainted him, he hugged me, and I felt so overjoyed, but…” a noise of frustration broke out of the taller puppet’s mouth piece. “It was too short lived! And then he ran off, and I, like a coward, was too dumbfounded and startled to even try and go after him, so I didn’t follow. Ugh, that was just simply pathetic, wasn’t it, Bandit?”

“Dunno, doc,” he shrugged. “Never tried courtin’ someone, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Carver grumbled. “You know, you’re a great listener, Bandit.”

Looking into Bandit’s tired, cold, dead eyes, one could see that yes, he did in fact know he was a good listener, especially after having to hear these exact words being told to him a plethora of times. Far too many times, in his opinion. Doc had a bad habit of repeating himself, nearly as bad a habit as Banker’s natural stutter. But, honestly, Bandit did not really mind - it was comforting to have some sort of repetition, something natural and flowing, a familiar back and forth between the attempts at not dying any time he stepped outside of his few friends’ sight.

So he just stood, with the face of someone who was about to doze the hell off, as Carver grumbled away his woes and stitched his strings up. To the doctor's reminder to take care of himself, he replied with a firm thumbs up, and then he waddled awkwardly into what in an episode might have been the glorious sunset, but in this case was only another door through to the wild.

Leaving the good doctor alone. Wooden fingers drummed against the unpolished counter of his workstation, filling the deathly quiet world with a steady rhythm. An impatience filled his head, that constant nagging feeling to do something, anything. Instantly his thoughts turned to the Banker, the sweet, timid, scared Banker, and those thoughts curled around daring ideas and wishes like ivy growing steadily on an old house's wall; he shoved them away, just as the Banker had shoved him away. Yet they kept coming back, filling his mind over and over. Carver leaned against the wall heavily with the soft thud of wood on wood, rubbing at his face with a grumble. Another day, another lovesick time. He smiled wryly to himself, humoring his conundrum. A doctor's worst patient is themself, he concluded bitterly, and he could not heal his own aching heart, despite his biggest efforts. He slid down the wall, trying to quell his murmuring mind, so absolutely wanting, no, craving, no, needing another’s touch. Specifically, the gentle, shaky, newly restored touch of Banker. But it was not like he could just, just up and ask him! Oh, goodness, no! The gall, the audacity! Carver scowled, stuffing his hands into his pockets, then took out, picking up his saw to go out into the wild. He was running short on needle and thread anyways, especially with how often Bandit was getting himself de-stringed nowadays.

So he would return to his old place, murder decimate destroy harvest some aracknits, and pick up more thread.

On his way, he encountered a bank booth. He only got a glimpse of something - or rather, someone, a particular someone who wore a shirt of the same light blue as that of the sleeves he saw retreating into the dark right before leaving the place completely empty. Carver stared at the empty bank for a little, recalling the man that had been in it but moments before. Then, with a heavy, sorrowful sigh, he forced his legs to move past it. It would not have done much for either of them anyways, standing in front of each other, waiting for something to happen, and that yet, knowing their clashing natures, simply never would. Hefting his saw over his shoulder, he crept into Dead Man’s Gulch -- and then into the place he used to call home.

The sound of the spider-like creatures sent shivers up his wooden spine, the inebriating thrill of the hunt filling his chest. He forced himself to keep calm and still his nerves, knowing the adrenaline rushing in what he could consider veins would only give him shaky hands, like those of the Banker he so cherished. But he could not risk having them, not now. He silently stalked through the halls, a thin and lithe coyote between hazy sand stone creeping up to its prey.

A distinctly recognizable sound caught his attention. Ah-ha!, he thought, crouching furtively out of sight. There it was: one of those awful little yarn devils, scuttling around in the shade of the doctor's old home with his needle tick-tick-ticking all over the wooden floor. A quick, painless bounty of thread for the blade of Carver's saw. The Doc slowly crept closer and closer, trying to hide the glint of his weapon from his eyeless prey, sneaking forward without letting himself make a single sound…

A fulminous zac!, and the aracknit dissolved into a bunch of strings with four needles attached.

Carver grinned, at least, the best he could with a solid mouth, satisfied. He still got it.

He stopped to gather the materials, keeping himself from humming and attracting too many of the little beasties. A skittering passed behind him. He froze, readying his saw once more. He turned his head ever so slowly, his motions nearly unperceivable... An aracknit rushed by, and he swung, missing, his saw flying out of his nervous grip. He swore under his breath, chasting his own hastiness and going to retrieve it, but another spider ran by him and stole it from under his reaching hand. A hiss, long and slow, and so, so, so very many quiet, ticking aracknits. He tried to creep out of his corner, but found every stealthy pass blocked by yarny webs. Without a weapon, there was no way he could go through an open area. He would lose his strings in a matter of seconds if he even attempted to do so! Color slowly drained out of his vision, and he cursed his worsening luck. He could feel his wooden heart beat, faster and faster. More scampering. He demanded of himself to slow his breathing, and could not.

“Well, well, well, well, well,” the air turned cold. The supposed to be jolly and high voice creaked and rasped lowly, angrily, softly, dangerously. “What, or rather, who, do we have here, caught in the webs of his own prey?”

Carver stayed silent, going at a crawl to the thinnest web, planning on breaking through it and making a mad dash to the exit. The sound of the Faceless Bandit’s three footsteps clacked loudly in the still, dusty air, the scampering aracknits now far too quiet in comparison to the terrifying approach. Perhaps because they too, as simpleminded as a bug of raw yarn can be, could not help but being afraid of the scarred danger slowly coming closer.

“I didn’t know you were Dr. Jekyll,” Faceless chuckled, making the wood of Carver’s back to ripple in disgust. “Seeing that you’re playing around with Mr. Hyde.”

Doc Carver scowled. Goodness, how much he despised the other’s use of terrible puns.

“Stop playing around, my dear Doctor,” his words turned the land foul. The dead shivered and rose, disturbed from what should have been their peaceful eternal rest. “You can’t avoid me forever, you know….”

‘Yeah, right’, Carver rolled his eyes, then refocused onto the web he planned on escaping through. He poised himself to run, breathing in, waiting for Faceless to turn around… and the moment he did, he bolted with a, “Ha !”

It was a mistake.

A grave one.

Of course it was all planned out, of course there would not be a weak spot. After all, wherever a bone breaks, it becomes stronger than before.

Dozens and dozens of aracknits surrounded him, wooly fangs bared. Some trembled, others ducked away, and Carver realized that--

“They listen to me,” Faceless droned behind him. He grew very still. “Out of fear, yes, but still… aren’t they so cute? So sweet? So helpful?”

The doctor ran into the crowd of the small eight legged monsters, the spiders parting like a sea, but also like a sea, instantly drove back.

An aracknit jumped at Carver, and he tried to bat it away with his open arm, but it just scampered onto him, leaving a woven strand over his wrist, and jumped away.

Another did the same to his other side, and he struggled even more, despite the fact that he was given less and less ability to do so.

He felt a string snap, and his left leg gave out, leaving him stumbling to the ground. Second came the right arm. He screamed, not to ask for help, knowing no one would hear him, but to try and bolster his own strength: he bashed an aracknit down and restringed him arm, then going back to fighting with every ounce of strength he could have found desperately still kicking in his wooden limbs.

The aracknits kept coming, the few dozens that were cornering him turning into a swarm that only grew bigger at every turn of his head, crawling out of every single nook and cranny. They bit down on his strings almost faster than he could sew them back up (but luckily, not quite as fast), all while stabbing his legs with their small damned needles as they attempted to climb him, possibly to feed off of him, maybe to try to escape their terrifying master by reaching the top of the doctor's head.

Carver felt their webs wrap around him, pulling him back, swirling around him tight, tighter than the knot of a noose, tying him to the ground and the walls, nearly forcing him on his knees. He screamed - not to be heard, not to gather strength: he screamed in pure terror, almost as though he hoped the sound of his voice would delay the inevitable.

A fly. He was a fly, a careless naive fly, who had thought he could outrun the spiders only to fall in their mother's trap, the hunter becoming the hunted - and soon to be the slaughtered.

He gave one last weakened kick before his legs became a useless mermaid’s tail on land, only barely managing to hit an aracknit strong enough to shoo it away before the string wavered away, dropping onto ash. The little beastie tumbled over, legs frantically moving in a terrified attempt to scramble back onto them, and he pitied it, the shared pain of two prisoners trapped beyond their powers, and he wished that it could get to its feet, to give him a sign of hope that he too would rise, but alas.

It was crushed under the handle of an approaching scythe.

Its needles stiffened and twitched, fighting one last time against their lightning quick rigor mortis; then, it dissolved into a puddle of string under Carver's horrified eyes.

Silence. Accursed, blasphemous, terrifying silence. All the doctor could hear was his own panting breath. He had one string left, and a scythe tugged on it for a moment before sliding down his face, making his head tilt this way and that, as if inspecting a specimen most curiously.

The two puppets were still, and silent.

Not a spider crawled, not a soul moved, nothing breathed and it was all so strikingly obvious to Carver. Of course, of course, why should he have gone back here? He should have baited the aracknits out instead of going in like a fool, a cretin, a pup still unaware of the sly tactics of hunting, thinking it all as fun and games. How foolish he had been!

He wished that he was somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

Somewhere to feel at home.

Hanging up his apron in the hall after a fulfilling day of making puppets feel better and smile, going into a cozy living room to join hands with a smiling Banker, to rest with tea in front of a warm fire and good book, simple domestic perfection and tranquility. That was all he wanted. Was it really too much to ask for…?

It seemed so.

A golden tear bubbled up in his eye, and he blinked rapidly to force it away.

It slid down his face, trailing down his scar.

His wooden skin crawled as a scarred and ripped hand came to rest on that mark, and he turned icy cold, shivering. God, how he wished a different, trembling, gentle hand were there! Even if he were in the same position, bound and inflexible and defenseless, he would have given anything for it. For that sweet intoxicating touch, the throne of which was instead being usurped by dirty, loathing, scratching fingers.

“Oh, my dearest Doctor Carver,” the mangled puppet laughed, his words airless. “You always were my least favorite. Always stealing from me those delightful strings of the weakened, of the broken and bent. And you, so resilient and resistant! Why so much of a fuss, hm?”

The doctor felt a knot tie in his throat. He forced himself to stare straight at the eyeless being looming cruelly before him in total defiance: if he was going to die there and then, he would have not given that piece of tumbleweed the satisfaction of seeing him bend his head to him.

“What is it, Doc?” the Faceless hissed, yanking him with annoyance at his silence, scratching at his face, gouging three sharp cuts under his scar that would have bled if the doctor had blood instead of sap, which oozed out of the crevices. “Cat got your tongue? Or did you ever have one? I doubt it, seeing as you’re quite dumb right now.”

Carver inhaled with a low growl.

“Go to hell.” he merely grumbled.

“Ooh, how raunchy,” Faceless snarked back, cutting into his own face with his scythe to display any kind of expression, the smirk he left in his own face jagged and twisted. Carver felt his stomach churn with frost at the sight, so crude and, and unnatural. The scythe returned to the bottom of his chin, sliding up to the top of his head to hook around the string that resided there. Carver shivered as he felt his singular string slowly sawed at.

The Faceless Bandit held his head firmly with one hand, pulled back his arm a little, swiftly, and-

Shhh.

Then there was nothing.

Death felt so weird, the doctor thought.

He had imagined it crueler, darker, colder, more painful. Lonelier.

Instead he felt only… suspended. As if in wait. For what, he could not tell. But it was a peaceful waiting, and he felt far from afraid.

He was enveloped into a gentle, vast hold. A warm, ginormous finger touched his face, tapping each of his eyes, and he felt air seep into his lungs once more.

Another hand carefully, gently, cautiously and lovingly placed strings onto his limbs.

The hands slowly vanished, and he found himself put into something enclosing and… safe?

And then he felt alive.

Which was not ideal, because it made him realize that he was in a claustrophobic and dark space, and with his most recent memories being those of his body tied up in yarn among an army of aracknits and every last one of his strings being cut by the cruel scythe of a criminal lacking a face, so he panicked and kicked the air in front of himself as hard as he could to escape his dark prison.

The Banker nearly had a heart attack when the coffin next to bank opened with a loud noise - only nearly, because he did not actually have a heart or circulatory system.

“B-Bandit? Is, is that you?” Banker’s sweet, timid, wonderful wonderful wonderful beautiful darling amazing incredible voice rang out in the empty room. The doctor pleaded in his heart, unable to find his voice, still gasping and panting, trembling and teary, ‘Oh, please, say more, speak more, keep talking, fill the void.’ There were quiet footsteps, the Banker creeping slowly out of his booth. “L-Lorelei? L-Lookout? Uh, um, Mr., Mr. West?”

And then he stood before him, looking down at the Doctor with four wide eyes.

Carver knew he was a mess, he knew he was shaking and sitting in the bottom of a coffin like container as his tears froze in his eyes, but the moment he saw the Banker looking down at him, silently, mouth open in a slight shock, he felt his frosted heart melt, finally filling his body with relieving warmth, color finally returning to his vision, and his shoulders finally untensed as he looked up at him with total and complete admiration.

The Banker stood, fidgeting with his hands nervously. He was about to start scratching them, but he stopped himself: the doctor had put a lot of time and… and care (wonderful, dutiful, devoted care, whispered the ghost of a thought in his mind) into that coat of paint. He couldn't just… he couldn't just ruin it like that. And, well, he couldn't, he couldn't just leave him there, hazy and frightened and in need of help, either.

He lent him his hand as that terrible fear gnawed at his stomach: “I, I didn't expect you to, to be here, D-Doc.”

Carver grabbed the appendix with both hands, pressing his fingers against its palms. He did not make any motion to stand up; completely honestly, he did not want to. He just wanted to hold it, to hold him, to feel the other puppet's arm curl against him, a soft, shy and gentle shield of blue and brown hues, of tremors and stutters, warming him endlessly. Oh, how he needed it! How he wished for it terribly, now and forever...

“D-Doc Carver?” the Banker felt that fire burn from his fingertips, spreading up his arm. He swallowed roughly to keep it from his face. “D-do you need to make a c-claim?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and pulled Banker’s hand down, close to his heart. Banker stared at him with wide eyes, big, terrified eyes. “Yes, I do, please, Banker, please… grant me this one claim.”

Banker trembled, and still, he asked; “What?”

“I've just been struck down with death,” Carver nearly whispered, eyes glazed with tears. “I have lost my confidence, please, Banker, dear, dear Banker of mine, please, kiss me with life, restore my confidence, please, that's the only claim I ask of you.”

Carver squeezed the hand tight, afraid it would escape his grip, knowing it could.

“K-kiss you?” Banker squeaked, eyes wide, the searing sensations spreading all over his face and neck, but, how enrapturing and captivating those burns were! And how loud the echo of the thought he'd been sure to have killed was! His fear tugged him away, or so it tried, for his body wouldn't move an inch.

Carver nodded, his eyes pleading, as he rubbed his face on the back of the hand, murmuring ‘please, please’ over and over, knowing rejection would have killed him on the spot, and yet not finding the will to care for it. Though he wouldn't beg for life from the Faceless Bandit that so hated him, he would beg and plead for death from the Banker he so adored.

The Banker breathed heavily, shivering. His head shook ever so slightly.

“N, no, no…” he whispered as he kneeled in front of the other puppet; “No, no…”, as he let the doctor cup his cheeks and rub his face on them; “No, no, no, no…”, as he returned the other's affection, kissing him in the way a puppet can kiss, wooden faces scratching ever so softly against each other, slowly, then faster; “No, no, no…”, as his fingers finally curled around the stitches of Carver's scar, stroking it idly, pushing away the tears that slowly dripped from the other’s face, finally seeing his fear as what it was: no fear at all, not even close to fear, even. It was something softer, something that he had selfishly denied himself through his own blindness. Oh, what good were four eyes when he could not use them to see what was right in front of him? What good was the blessing of sight without letting himself revel in the beautiful image in front of him? What good was living to play a part and nothing more if it did not allow him to have the gift of, the, no, his, his dear, dear, darling doctor to gaze upon?

He held Carver closer, nuzzling harder against him. The fire divamping inside him boiled and burned, it begged to be released, to be imprinted on the other puppet for all to see. He was kissing it into Doc, but it was not, it could not be enough. A single face was too restrictive, and he had to improvise, he had to figure out a way to make it more, to have more of the doctor pinned under him, to show him that yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, this was right and wanted and good.

His hand begrudgingly left the side of Carver's head and instead grabbed with all of its strength his arm. The good doctor nearly jumped up from his seat in the case, surprised, left breathless. His own fingers curled around the Banker's forearm, but the kiss they pressed against him was weak, not nearly as deep and passionate as the one pushing into his limb, far more shy and trembling, a near reverse of their usual attitudes. Carver’s whole being shivered with warmth. And oh, oh!, it was so good! So very good, so very delicious, the sensation spreading from that long, long kiss to the rest of his body… goodness, he was addicted to it already. That was it, his only wish, his reason to live. All he wanted was for that magnificent pressure to never soften and leave.

But the Banker had other plans. For him, it was too long, too time consuming; it didn't let him give Carver everything they both wanted desperately after letting so much time pass by. So instead he began to grab and release, grab and release, fast and hungry, pressing quick hasty kisses all over the doctor. On his arms, his chest, his neck, his shoulders, his sides - to hell with his part!, to hell with his fear! - even reaching further down, gripping Carver’s hips and legs in a frenzy, dominated by nothing but the burning embers inside of his wooden frame that pushed him to love and love and love again.

Carver was too slow to reply to those attentions, and he found himself overwhelmed. He was in an almost comatose bliss, jolting and shivering with little gasps and murmurs of, “Yes, yes, p-please, yes….”, only barely managing to nuzzle back his lover's face, goodness gracious, this was it, the moment he always dreamed of, his lover, they were lovers now. He did not feel like himself, not at all. He was out of his body, out of his mind, looking down on that scene from a warm cloud of ecstasy, the prickling of pleasure taking over him in waves.

It took what felt like ages, for the Banker's wild rush of claiming Carver as his to consume itself. It exhausted them both, to the point where they were moments away from collapsing entirely in the box Carver rested in, seconds from slipping into pure bliss and tranquility. They held each other close as they rested, panting softly, Banker’s hand finally finding its place on Carver’s cheek, gently trailing the scar there. Then he felt the ridges, his eyes widening, and he pulled away a bit to inspect the mark, and to his horror and sadness found the three fresh cuts under his hand.

“C-Carver, you, you’re hurt!” he exclaimed, his gentle shaky fingers turning the doctor’s head to inspect the cuts better. “O-Oh dear, why didn't, why didn’t you t-tell me?”

“It’s fine, it really is,” Carver reassured him, though he leaned into and reveled in his touch. “It’s nothing that I can’t mend.”

Banker frowned at that, and so Carver might have even said something more, had a not-so-freshly-painted-anymore visage not rubbed gently on his wounds, kissing away the sap seeping from the small gouges. The kiss threw him for an incredulous loop, stunning him. Had his wood been replaced by flesh, he would have been redder than a blooming hibiscus.

Perhaps it was seeing the doctor like that that slowly brought the four-eyed puppet to his senses. All those newly formed memories reverberated in his mind, slowly becoming clear, first their gentle, almost reluctant, kiss, then the frenzied adrenalinic boiling and burning and exploding cravings that had taken control of him, and finally, when he realized the spontaneous act of kissing those little scrapes, he finally got a grasp on his actions. He gradually began shaking, hands going to cover his mouth already muttering apologies, his legs trying to push him to his feet - oh, but Carver would not have any of it.

His gentle grip tightened around the other's waist, keeping him from escaping into the dark of his shame. Banker would have blushed furiously had he skin, feeling the rippling strength of Doc Carver’s arm around him, his breath hitching as those thoughts that he thought he killed earlier swarmed back into his mind. The doctor collected himself as well, slowly, naturally slipping back into his ordinarily calm and proper self, just like the Banker had returned to his anxieties and worries, their regular personalities bleeding back into their forms as if regaining consciousness after a long sleep.

“Dear,” goodness, how wonderful it felt to say that, “Dear, darling, love, what's troubling you?”

“I- I, I… Doc, I-”

“Carver, dear, please. Carver is just fine.”

“I, I… Car, Carver, I didn't - oh, oh god, I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-”

“Oh, you did!” the doctor adamantly insisted, his eyes widening, but in complete confidence. “We’re… us now. It’s okay, we’re okay… I’m here, you’re here, it’s okay. We… we are good.”

The Banker tried shrinking himself in the other's arms without much success. Carver merely huffed, an adoring look in his eyes, and brought him closer. His gentle nuzzles onto his recently repainted cheek were a balm for the Banker's nerves.

“There's nothing to fear, my darling.” he murmured into the puppet’s ears, feeling him relax from his smooth accent, melting against him in a pleasant warmth, “Hm, but your booth… it seems quite comfortable, wouldn't you say?”

The other nodded, humming absentmindedly, one of his hands trailing up Carver’s arm, twirling around his neck to run over his hair. He had always wondered how it felt, and now found that it was not only wood, but covered in felt to give it a soft velvety texture, and the same went for his handlebar moustache. Come to think of it, nearly everything about the doctor was just so soft and warmly inviting.

“Should we head over to it, then?” Carver's voice caught up to him, pulling him back to reality, yet sending him from one pleasant distraction to another. He barely had to answer, the slightest sigh and the smallest nod, and the doctor slid a firm and strong hand under his knees, and rose him up, carrying him into the bank much like a newly wed groom carries his beloved man into their just made house.

There was some cloth folded in a corner, arranged as if to simulate what could have once seemed like a bed which clearly had been abandoned for the anxious Banker’s many sleepless nights, him preferring instead to pass out in fear on his counter.

The doctor laid him on top of the covers gently before positioning himself on top of him. One of his hands tenderly stroked his cheek, his legs straddling the Banker, looking down at him, eyes shielded by his glasses, though behind those lenses, his eyes were full of pure admiration.

The four-eyed puppet adjusted himself under his weight almost sleepily: “Carver, love…” oh, to be called like that forever and always, what shivers did it send down his spine!, “What…”

“Please, my dearest.” Carver leaned down to press kisses to his throat, and purred against his neck, hands pressing light kisses with thumbs swirling on wooden skin so gently, “You don't truly think I am sated of your kisses? I waited so long for you…”

The Banker sighed blissfully, body melting and becoming as soft as warm clay. He wrapped his arms around his dear, dear lover and let his head fall back on the bed that hadn't seen him in weeks, basking in the wonderful burn enveloping him.

How curious, he thought to himself. He could hear a hummingbird sing in the back of his mind.

For some odd reason, he heard Bandit clear his throat in the back of his mind too.

Then Doc Carver let out a small grumbling shriek, rolling over and tumbling off of a Banker too hazy to notice anything.

“H-Hello Bandit!” Carver stumbled over his words as the cowboy looked at them from the counter where his elbow was leaning on. The four-eyed puppet called for him needily, drawling out the last part of the doctor’s name, his grasp on reality basically non-existent. Carver turned bright red. “F-fancy seeing you here….”

“Sure is, Doc, sure is.” Showdown smiled, cheek resting in his hand, giving him a quick wink. “Mind if I make a deposit?”

“Um, sure,” the doctor stuttered, rushing to the desk to swipe the cash, hastily dumping it in a vault labeled ‘SHOWDOWN BANDIT’.

The cowboy tipped his hat politely: “Thanks, Doc.”

“N-no problem,” he mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Now I suggest ya go back to yer other business. He sounds pretty… um… critical.” Showdown nodded in the direction of the lovestruck Banker. The doctor tried to swallow, and failed. “Y’know what I mean, Doc?”

“Carveeeer, love, please… please, where did you go?” the poor soul lamented, turning on the bed. “You're so cruel, so cruel… ! Oh, love, please… please, I need you… !”

“I know.” Carver muttered to Showdown, closing the Bank’s shutters and swiftly turning around, rushing back into the arms of his darling, finally together.

#control art #control writes #collab #writing collab #showdown bandit #sb #the banker #doc carver x banker #doc carver #pining #arachnophobia #araknits #faceless bandit #showdown #near death experience #love #fluff and angst #happy with an angst ending

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