#so i decided to go home feeling absolutely out of it and kinda fog-brained and exhausted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Oops - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: A little too much alcohol, a drunken hookup, it happens all the time, right? Marinette didn't mean to drink so much, and she didn't mean to wake up in a stranger's bed, but she did, and now this morning isn't going at all the way she expected. When Luka asks to see her again, she can't think of a good reason to say no...and the one night she never meant to have turns out to be the beginning of something she never could have anticipated.

Alya thinks its hysterical--only Marinette could take home a one night stand and end up with a date. But when the one night stand turns into a series of hookups, Alya's starting to get concerned. Clearly it's up to her to rein Marinette in before the girl gets seriously hurt.

Rating: M - this is a little spicier than my usual fare but not really explicit? There’s a lot of off screen sex and reference to sexy things and adult activities, some drinking (obviously), cursing/foul language.

Credit to my tumblr followers for this one, because one day I went "hey, you guys want to see some bits from the folder of fics I'm never going to finish?" and one of the bits I posted was the beginning of this story, and people liked it more than I was expecting, and then it was "well, you know, I did think about doing blahblah" and "I'd sure love to see that!" and the next thing you know I've added five thousand words with no sign of stopping. In Marinette’s words: Oops. So, with much love to my followers and readers across platforms, here's the fic I never intended to finish, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm splitting it into two chapters but they'll both be uploaded within a few minutes, so if you finish the first part and the second one isn't posted yet, just wait a little and try back. Also, much love to @livrever for talking me down off the ledge and beta reading this one.

Marinette woke up with a mouth that felt like cotton and a pounding headache. She groaned, and pressed her face into the pillow. It...smelled funny. Not bad, just...not like home.

Oh. Because she hadn’t gone home last night. At least, not to her home.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

Marinette jumped, and sat up, clutching the sheets to her still-naked body. Her head reeled and she whimpered as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. The door to the bedroom was cracked and she could see a sliver of light beyond it that blinked in and out. It seemed her...friend, was pacing in the other room, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t very happy.

“—crosses a line, Jean. What? No, that’s not the point, Jean, you got me hammered without my consent! How can you not see the problem here? No, you know what, my head is killing me and I’m sick of yelling at you, obviously this can’t be fixed. As of right now, we are no longer friends. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, if you see me coming just walk the other way. I’m done with you.”

There was a thump and a sigh and an emphatic “Fuck.”

Marinette just sat there, holding the sheet over her chest, and blinked, trying to figure out what she should do and think through the fog in her brain. She didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in these situations. Was she supposed to just…

Before she could form any ideas, he came in with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He had a pair of tattered but well-fitting jeans on with patterned boxers peeking out from the waistband, but no shirt, and there was a lot of muscle and bare skin on display and oh God he had sex hair, and it was her hands that had done it. Marinette swallowed and twisted her fingers tighter in the sheets, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hi,” he said gently. “I’m Luka, in case you don’t remember. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling? I mean, hung over, obviously, but on a scale of just let me die to I might conceivably want to live to tomorrow …” He gave her a smile that perhaps wasn’t entirely confident, and Marinette couldn’t help a small smile back.

“I think I’m not quite up to dancing to the metal band playing in my head, but pretty far from oh God where’s the bathroom, so I’ll take it, all things considered.” She took the glass of water he offered and he opened the aspirin bottle and shook a couple out into her palm. That was sweet, she thought. At least he wasn’t just tossing her clothes at her and kicking her out. How could she have let herself end up in a position like this?

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and watched her take the pills. “Man, you’re really gorgeous. I thought at least some of it would be the booze, but—“ He looked away, clearing his throat. “Lucky me.”

Marinette’s face burned. “Thanks,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. At least he was nice, she thought. At least she hadn’t slept with a jerk. And he’d certainly been...considerate. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, just...

“How much do you remember about last night?” he asked. His voice was rough, but he kept it soft. “I’m sorry for asking but I was way more drunk last night than I ever let myself get and I don’t think I blacked out but some things are...spotty.”

“Most of it, I think,” Marinette flashed him an embarrassed smile. “The good parts for sure. The details and...transitions, I guess, are a little hazy. I don’t remember how we got here from the club, for example.”

“But you remember being here, with me.” His eyes fell to her neck and shoulders and he winced. “Man I really marked you up, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not going to get you in trouble.” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you aren’t married.”

“No,” she yelped. “No, I’m not married. Totally single.” She put her face in her hand. “Absolutely, devastatingly, recently single.”

Luka let out a sigh of relief and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed. “Very. Bad breakup, bad best friend applying bad breakup logic that lands me my very first one night stand. Yay me.”

“Um, I’m honored?” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Although, I mean...it doesn’t have to be. Just the one night, I mean. Not that—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Even as drunk as I was, I know I had a lot of fun last night.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “And even before I got too drunk to function I wanted to get your number.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently one of my so-called friends decided I needed a little extra liquid courage.”

“I wish I had an excuse,” Marinette muttered, shoulders curling inward. “I just...didn’t want to be sad anymore.” She frowned as what he’d said and the conversation she’d overheard connected in her brain. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m pissed off,” Luka huffed, and then smiled again. “But I’m fine. I didn’t do— much I wouldn’t have done anyway. Just, not necessarily in that order, or that soon. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure,” Marinette sighed, adjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her chest. “I don’t know how I feel. I definitely did some things I wouldn’t have done sober. You, specifically,” she joked weakly. “Not that you aren’t—not that I didn’t—“

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“But...I’m on birth control, and…” she turned and craned her neck to look at the spilled box and empty wrappers on the nightstand. “We used protection, and…” she looked at Luka, worrying her lip.

“I’m clean,” he supplied.

“Me too,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’re hot and you seem nice and it’s not like it didn’t feel good, and I definitely wasn’t sad for a while, so…” She shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed but...I think I’m okay too.”

“Well, no need to be embarrassed with me,” Luka grinned. “I’m definitely not judging.”

They sat smiling at each other for a moment, and then Luka seemed to remember something, because he winced. “Umm...about your dress,” he coughed. “I am so, so sorry but it seems drunk me was kinda impatient and your dress is in pieces on my living room floor.”

Marinette just blinked at him for a moment...and then she started to laugh. Luka grinned, and then started to chuckle along with her. She laughed harder and grabbed her head. “Ow, ow, oh my God.” Without thinking she leaned forward to drop her head on Luka’s shoulder.

He stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed, and one of his hands slipped into her hair. His fingers began to rub in small circles.

“Mmm, that’s good,” she sighed, and felt Luka’s chuckle.

“Well that sounds familiar,” he said, his voice going a little deeper. Marinette shivered. She felt him swallow, and his face dipped slightly towards her. “I like your perfume,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. Marinette’s face warmed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. His fingers continued to rub her aching head, and the pain actually seemed to be receding a bit, though whether from the massage or the painkillers he’d given her, she wasn’t sure.

She should sit up. He was a stranger, after all, and just because they’d—she wasn’t exactly experienced at this kind of thing but this wasn’t really fitting in with what she imagined a morning after to be like. She probably looked weird, leaning on him like...like they were a couple or something, and—

Luka’s hands shifted and began to comb gently, slowly through her hair, and Marinette let out a small moan. She felt his breath hitch and bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?” he asked, but there was a rough edge to his voice that—she was being silly though, he’d performed last night, and then they’d done all that drinking, and...and those other things, and it was no wonder if his voice was—

That voice was doing things to her, though, and reminding her of—things, and this time it was her breath that caught as the fingers that had been moving through her hair kept going down this time, sliding along her spine, raising goosebumps and reminding her that she was still very much naked.

“Do you, um,” Luka began, in the exact same deep tones that had made her leave the club with him last night. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?”

His fingers stilled, resting at the small of her back, and Marinette couldn’t see his face since hers was still buried in his shoulder. It was hard to think when he was so warm, and her nose was brushing his collarbone, and she’d hardly have to move to press her lips against his smooth skin.

She barely knew him. But...well...that hadn’t stopped her last night, so...

Marinette took a deep breath, and lifted her head, sitting back slightly to look at him. His breathing was steady as he looked back at her, almost too steady, but his eyes were dark.

“No,” she managed, barely above a whisper.

Luka’s hands moved up her back to trail up and down her arms. “Then, do you want to stay for a while longer?” They were swaying towards each other. “Maybe…” They were kissing before he could finish the thought. Marinette put her arms around his neck automatically, but as his arms went around her, pulling her closer, she dropped her hands back down again to rub over his broad, firm shoulders.

“Again?” he managed to get out between the fevered kisses, and Marinette made an affirmative noise, but he didn’t move until she broke away long enough to gasp, “Yes.”

He was pulling away the sheet between them even as he wrapped one arm around her and dragged her more fully onto the bed, settling her below him with surprising gentleness. Okay, that was hot, Marinette decided, burying her fingers in his already-messy hair as he began retracing the path he’d marked along her neck last night. Last night had been a really, really stupid decision, but this? As he pulled back to look at her, eyes clear and sharp instead of the hazy, unfocused gaze he’d had the night before, and brushed her hair tenderly back from her face before kissing her again, softly, and then deeply, Marinette began to feel that this morning was by far the best decision she’d made in a long time.

***

He should get up, Luka thought hazily, listening to his shower running. He should at least put his boxers back on or something. Change the sheets. Make some coffee. Something.

Instead he lay there, limp and relaxed, listening to the shower, and trying to hold on to this feeling of languid contentment.

God, he felt so good. Marinette was an amazing partner, sweet and so responsive, practically melting under his touch, firm and toned but soft in all the right places, and her little gasps and hums drove him crazy. She was bolder than he expected, an amazing kisser even drunk off her ass last night, and her mouth was so pretty and soft, and this morning...his body hummed with echoes of pleasure as he thought about it.

He rolled over, hugging his pillow, and grinned. He could still smell her perfume. That scent was engraved in his mind; it was one of the things that was clearest to him from the jumbled mix of memories of the night before. Luka remembered dancing with Marinette, dropping his head to hear something she was saying, and inhaling that scent, vivid despite the riot of smells that permeated the dance floor. He remembered being surrounded by it in the blur that was the cab ride home. He remembered gasping it in on the living room floor...did they fall? He thought he remembered one of them tripping over the doorstep. Even just now, with all his senses full of her, he had found traces of it on her skin, at her jaw and right behind her ear.

Luka shivered, buried his face in the pillow, and breathed deep.

He’d played a killer set last night, he’d gone home with a beautiful woman who was great in bed, had somehow managed not to humiliate himself despite his spiked drinks, and he had nowhere to be today. This morning would be perfect if he wasn’t dead certain that Marinette was going to leave and he would never see her again.

He really wanted to see her again.

Which was why he hadn’t wanted things to happen this way, damn it. He sighed, this time burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He was supposed to flirt with her, get her number, ask her out, think with his brain and not his—hormones.

He was still going to kill his so-called friend. There was no justifying what Jean had done. If Victor had been working it never would have happened, but he’d called out for the night and apparently whoever had replaced him had been more than happy to make sure Luka’s drinks were stronger than advertised.

Bastards, both of them.

Even if it hadn’t turned out too badly.

Rock Giant blared out from his nightstand, and Luka flopped on his back and grabbed for his phone, forcing his eyes open as he answered it. “Hello?” he grumbled.

Silence. Luka frowned, and opened his mouth, but the person on the other end finally said, “I’m looking for Marinette.”

What? Luka frowned, and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was pink.

Right. Because he’d found Marinette’s dead phone on the floor this morning when he got up, and he’d picked it up and set it in his charger, while he took his own to the living room to call and yell at Jean. Then he’d hurled his phone into the couch and left it there.

Shit.

“Ah,” he said, reaching up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair. “She’s, um, in the shower. I can tell her to call you when she gets out.”

“Tell her to call Alya. If I don’t hear from her in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police,” the girl on the other end of the line said coldly, and then hung up.

“Oops,” Luka muttered, setting Marinette’s phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad at him. He probably should have come up with a more ambiguous excuse, something she could use for a cover if she didn’t want to admit to this Alya person that she’d gone home with a guy, but he wasn’t exactly thinking on his feet this morning.

He should get up. He sat up with a groan and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He registered that the shower was no longer running at about the same time that the door opened. Luka looked up and his jaw dropped as Marinette shuffled shyly into the room.

Shit, he’d seen her naked less than an hour ago, why was he still blushing? She was wearing two of his shirts, a t-shirt with one of his button-ups over it, open at the front and with the sleeves rolled up, cinched at her waist with her scarf from the night before. He couldn’t look away from that scarf for a moment, a pink, gauzy thing the sight of which brought Luka another vivid memory of pressing his face against her neck to inhale her perfume as he untied it. His eyes flicked up to the lovely pattern of bruises along her neck.

“Thanks for letting me raid your closet,” Marinette said, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt. She had what looked like a pair of his black bike shorts on underneath. They were too big for her but damn did her legs look good anyway.

“No problem,” he coughed, and cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water that was still sitting on his nightstand. Ugh, when did he become such a horn dog, drooling like this over a woman who had already more than satisfied him. Why did Jean have to decide to be a jerk last night, of all nights. Luka didn’t want things to end like this.

“Well, I should...If you maybe have a bag I can put my dress in? Then I can just go and get out of your hair.” Marinette couldn’t seem to be still, feet shuffling, hands fluttering, not looking at him.

I have to fix this, was the only thing he could think as he stared at her. I’ll regret it forever if she just walks out.

“Actually,” Luka said quickly, trying desperately not to sound too desperate, “I was going to ask if I could buy you breakfast.”

That stilled her. She froze, staring at him, and he forced himself to go on. “No pressure,” he shrugged, “But the café on the corner has a great all-day brunch menu. And I’d like to make it up to you, about the dress.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Marinette’s eyes followed the motion and he thought he saw pink tint her cheeks. Well, at least it wasn’t just him. “Breakfast probably doesn’t begin to cover it, but it’s a start. If you don’t mind waiting for me to shower.”

Marinette was shuffling again. “O-okay,” she said. “I’ll, um...I’ll wait for you in the other room?”

Luka chuckled. “Sure.” He waited a moment, but when she just stood there, he tossed aside the sheet covering his lap and stood. “I’ll be quick,” he told her with a grin that he was extremely sure she didn’t see. She squeaked as he passed her and he had to smother his laughter, even as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She was too cute, and her ogling made him feel less like a creep for his own.

Then he cursed and opened the door again, leaning just his upper half out. “Oh, I need to tell you, you need to call, um, Alya? I’m really sorry, but we have the same ringtone and I answered without thinking. Can you call her back before she sends the cops after me? I can’t deal with Officer Roger this early in the morning.”

Marinette paused, and then let out a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hand. “Yeah,” she sighed, but she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Sure, I can do that.”

Luka smiled back. “I'll only be a few minutes.”

He did want to be quick, but he also wanted to be clean and attractive, so he throttled back his impatience as best he could to make sure that he both smelled and looked good. The bedroom was still empty when he came in, but the door wasn’t shut all the way and he could hear Marinette on the phone. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but it wasn’t as if he could help it.

“—about that but it’s not like I ditched you on purpose. Well obviously I was wasted, Alya, so I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. No, I’m really fine. I’m kind of embarrassed and I feel really stupid, but...it turned out okay. Hmm? No, he’s really sweet and considerate. He’s, um, buying me breakfast, so…what? No, Alya, I’m not stupid, I know that. He’s just being nice and—okay that is none of your business! ” There was a giggle that followed that, and then her voice dropped too quiet for him to hear, and another giggle, one that made him smile from the sheer joy evident in it. “I guess I got lucky in more ways than one.” She sighed. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I really am fine. Not even sick, much. I mean I had a headache for a while, but...” She giggled again. “Luka took care of it. Mm-hmm, so good, Alya, oh my God.” Luka grinned to himself as he dug in his closet to find the stack of leftover merch he had crammed into the back corner. “Nuh uh, also none of your business. Anyway, I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?”

Stop being a smug bastard , Luka told himself, but it wasn’t working very well. Given the state she had reduced him to, it was gratifying to know she’d enjoyed herself too. Well, he had known that, he’d made sure of it, but it still felt good to hear it from her. Maybe his odds were better than he thought. He found what he was looking for and tried to turn his smirk into something less incriminating before he opened his door and emerged into the living room. From the way Marinette’s face turned red, he failed. “I really gotta go,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes on him. “Bye, Alya.”

“I hope this will do,” Luka said, offering her the cheap mesh tote with his band logo on it. “You can keep it, we use them to bag up merch when people by t-shirts and stuff for the band...I hope it’s…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled, taking the bag. The pieces of her dress were already neatly folded on the couch, and she turned away from him to put them in the bag.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Luka told her, frowning a little. “I’m...not usually like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette sighed. “It was kind of flimsy, with just those straps to hold the pieces together. I’m not usually like this…” she gestured with one of the folded pieces, “either. I’m not, you know, sexy like that. I made it because I thought...well, I thought he would like it, and maybe I could wear it for a special occasion at home, but I never meant to wear it out , and then when everything happened, I thought I’d never wear it at all, but then Alya insisted that I had to wear it at least once and…” She shrugged, and slipped the handles of the tote over her arm, smiling up at him. “I’m just as happy to have an excuse not to wear it again.”

“Well, you looked amazing in it,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But I have to disagree with you about not usually being sexy. My clothes have never looked so hot.”

She tried to hide how much she enjoyed the compliment, but couldn’t quite manage it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d had a breakup, he remembered, and probably wasn’t feeling too good about herself when she walked into that bar last night, dressed to the nines, and started knocking back drinks.

Then her blue eyes flicked up to give him a look through her lashes. “I find that hard to believe,” she murmured, and then blushed.

Oh he was gone. Luka found himself reaching for her, but stopped his hand before it touched her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Now, you’re asking?”

“Yes, I’m asking,” Luka replied, amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Marinette’s eyes darted to his mouth, and then back towards the bedroom. “I don’t, um...think I can…”

Luka chuckled. “Thanks for your opinion of my stamina, but frankly, me either. I’d be more than willing if I could, but, right here right now? I just really want to kiss you.”

“Why?” Marinette blurted, and then covered her mouth. Luka blinked, but before he could come up with any kind of answer, Marinette straightened and squared her shoulders. “Look,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry, I just...I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what...I don’t know what the rules are? The...etiquette, or whatever...I mean I kind of thought once we were done with…” Her eyes shifted towards his bedroom again. “I thought it was just, over? And I would go home? So I’m...I guess I’m confused. About why you’re still...um...breakfast and kissing and all that, it just…why would you still want that, after you—I mean we—aren’t we, you know…” She floundered.

“Okay, hold on,” Luka raised his hands placatingly. “Relax, Marinette. That was kind of a lot to take in.” Luka chuckled, and looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m not gonna say I’ve never done this before, but...listen, I don’t have a playbook. This isn’t...a business transaction, or whatever. I just do what feels good. Dancing with you felt good. Kissing you felt good. Everything we did after felt good. This morning felt really good.” Marinette blushed, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel good with you. I don’t see any reason to put a time limit on that, just because we’re, um. Worn out.” They both giggled self-consciously, and Luka reached for Marinette’s hand, cradling it in his. “If you want to go, or you need to be somewhere, or if you’re just tired of kissing me—”

“I don’t,” Marinette said quickly, taking a half step forward. “I’m...not.” Luka smiled.

“Then just do what feels g—”

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, dropping the bag on the floor. Luka’s hands found her hips automatically, steadying them both from her hasty move, and the kiss softened as they both relaxed into it.

“You’re right,” Marinette breathed, sending a shiver up his spine. “It does feel good.”

Luka kissed her again softly, savoring the soft plumpness of her lower lip between his, and rested his forehead against hers. “I could kiss you all day,” he rumbled, and cleared his throat. “But fainting from hunger probably wouldn’t feel so good, so. We should probably go.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, and then bit the lip he’d just been enjoying. “But maybe we could...keep doing what feels good? For a while? Until I have to go?”

“Hell yeah,” Luka grinned, and grinned wider when she rose up and kissed him again. He picked up her bag and offered it to her, and walked her to the front door and opened it for her, his other hand still entwined with hers.

They made it to the landing when Marinette hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking over her head, Luka saw one of his nosier neighbors staring up at them, judgment in every line of her body. Marinette was frozen under the stare, red slowly creeping up her face. He could sense the sudden panic in her, and put a hand on her hip.

Luka leaned down by her ear. “You were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen last night,” he murmured, smiling when Marinette shivered and turned her head slightly to listen to him, jolted out of whatever spiral she’d been in. “You completely blew my mind this morning. You’re a goddess. Own it and walk out of here like one.”

Marinette felt as if Luka’s words sank into her skin, warming her in such a way that she almost forgot what they were talking about. She was busy reliving the way he had arched against her, the praises he had whispered into her skin, the way he had clung to her, moaning as he came apart. She did that to him.

Luka watched as Marinette bit her lip, fighting the smile that was suddenly trying to break out. He brushed his lips against her temple and she looked up at him, still blushing but with a sparkle in her eye that did things to his heart. She reached back and caught his hand, tangling her fingers with his, and marched down the stairs, offering a cheerful smile to the old lady at the bottom. “Good morning,” she said, and Luka grinned shamelessly as they walked out of the door.

When they made it out of the building Luka suddenly pulled back on her hand, and Marinette gasped as he whirled her up against the wall and leaned down. Marinette rose up on her toes to meet him, cupping his face in her hands and they kissed fiercely. Luka braced his hands on the wall and leaned into her.

“Perfect,” he breathed, though even he wasn’t sure whether he meant her performance just now, or her in general.

Marinette’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders as she blushed and looked down, but then she looked back up at him, beaming, and Luka couldn’t help smiling back at her as he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly one more time. “Breakfast,” he sighed, and pushed off the wall. He held out his hand, and Marinette put hers in it, and they were both grinning as they meandered down the sidewalk.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Marinette sighed blissfully.

“I feel...really good,” she answered. “Thank you.” She paused, and scrunched her nose. “Is that weird to say?”

“No,” Luka laughed, and brought their hands to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers. “Thank you too. I had a really good time. I’m glad you did too. I’m glad that...well, with the way things started. It could have all gone really badly, or not at all, and...I’m really glad I could show you a good time.”

Marinette blushed. “It was good. Really, um. Really good.” She sighed. “I promise I know more words than this.”

Luka chuckled. “It’s okay. Here, it’s this one.” He opened the café door, but he didn’t let go of Marinette’s hand, following right behind her into the café. They were directed to a booth, and he tugged at her, urging her to sit next to him instead of across.

Marinette only hesitated a moment. Do what feels good . Luka’s arm felt good against her shoulders as he laid it along the back of the booth, and he leaned down and kissed her without any trace of self-consciousness. Marinette’s fingers curled in his shirt. Kissing him felt really good. She should be embarrassed; she should be pushing him away. Hadn’t she heard over and over how important image is, and here she is making out with her one night stand, wearing his clothes, in a public diner booth.

Do what feels good .

It definitely felt good.

“God that feels good,” Luka sighed as they parted, and Marinette giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and then picked up the menu as a slightly wary waitress approached. Marinette glanced up at him in surprise at the rather domestic gesture, but then quickly away again. Stupid. They’d already had that conversation. It was just an impulse, not something to read into. Marinette looked up at the waitress instead, feeling her cheeks heat.

The waitress didn’t look phased at all. If anything, she looked bored. “Coffee?” she offered in a disinterested tone.

“Um, no, thank you,” Marinette managed to smile. “I’d like some lemon tea with honey, please.”

The waitress nodded, and glanced at Luka. “Usual, Lu?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luka said, flashing a quick grin before looking at the menu again.

“Come here often?” Marinette teased, and Luka chuckled, then coughed lightly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s close and I’m lazy, so…” He shrugged.

The waitress returned and set down a little pot of hot water, a cup with a tea bag in it, and a container of honey.

Marinette pulled away from Luka slightly to prepare the tea, but his arm remained behind her on the back of the booth.

“Here,” Marinette said, sliding the tea over to him when it was ready. “This’ll help your throat.”.

Luka blinked, and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Marinette found herself blushing under his suddenly soft gaze.

“No, thank you,” she said, and he laughed as she reached over and stole his coffee cup. She sipped it carefully. It wasn’t quite as sweet as she liked it, but it was good enough. She glanced up at Luka over the rim, and he was still giving her that soft look.

“I should figure out a ride,” Marinette murmured, looking away, and she picked up her phone.

“I can get you a cab if you want,” Luka offered, but Marinette shook her head.

“My roommate’s boyfriend works nights around here, and he should be getting off soon. I’ll see if he can pick me up first.” She smiled at Luka. “If not, we can revisit the offer. Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she kept him close for another, and her next text to Nino wasn’t entirely coherent.

They had to disentangle from each other when their food came, but Marinette remained very aware of Luka’s arm brushing her own, and the soft smiles he gave anytime she glanced at him. She glanced away, tucking back a lock of hair to cover up the fact that she was grinning like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? she wondered. Was this just like, afterglow or something? Would it fade away once she left?

Luka touched her shoulder and Marinette jumped. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just asking if you got your ride worked out, but I guess you were a bit zoned out.”

“Sorry,” Marinette said quickly, and stuffed her phone back in her purse. “Yeah, Nino’s going to pick me up here in a little bit.” Luka nodded.

He put his arm back around her when they were finished eating, and he ordered another lemon tea instead of the coffee she expected. “You were right,” he smiled. “It did help.”

Marinette mixed it up for him again when it came, and then settled in and leaned against Luka’s side as he sipped it. He smelled nice, and he was warm, and she loved how easy he made everything feel.

Luka watched Marinette’s eyelids begin to droop. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her temple, but she just smiled, her eyes still closed. She was adorable, and Luka sighed before jostling her slightly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, and Marinette blinked her eyes back open. “I don’t particularly mind, but we can’t stay in this booth all day.”

“Can’t we?” Marinette sighed. “I’m so comfortable. You’ve been...really great Luka. I’m kind of sorry it has to end.”

Luka took a breath, and took the plunge. “Well, about that. I was hoping maybe we could see each other again.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blushed as she sat up and looked at him. “Y-you mean, like a...a b-b—”

“I mean like a date,” Luka corrected, mouth twitching. She was really too cute. “The kind with talking and dinner and movies or whatever. I’d really like to spend more time with you, Marinette. Talking, and not just...well. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop doing everything else, but...I want to get to know you.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “R-really?”

Luka tilted his head slightly. “Why are you surprised?”

“I just don’t—I mean I didn’t think I’d be…” Marinette ducked her head, drawing circles in the ring of condensation forming around the base of her water glass. “You don’t even know me.”

“True.” Luka raised his eyebrows, and shifted his gaze away so he wasn’t looking quite so fully at her. “That’s why I’m asking you out. I don’t know you, but I want to. If you want to call it quits now and go home and never see me again, I’ll accept that, but...it’s definitely not the way I want this to go.”

“I…” Marinette looked down, twining a finger nervously in her hair. “I don’t know, Luka. You’re really sweet and—I really did have a great time with you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt because I’m on the rebound, I…I don’t know if I’m ready for another, um...relationship, right now. I mean...”

Not what he wanted to hear, but...“Okay. That’s fair,” Luka nodded, the fingers of his free hand beginning to tap the table lightly.. “What if we just keep things casual for now? We can go out sometimes, and have some fun together...do what feels good…” he squeezed her hip, and watched her try to keep back the smile that wanted to break out, “get to know each other, and if you want to see other people or whatever, I’m cool with that for now. I’d just really like the chance to spend more time with you. If it doesn’t go anywhere then…” He shrugged, “at least I tried. You’ve put me on notice now, so it’s my choice to take the risk. I think you’re worth it.” His heart was beating so fast, and the tap of his fingers picked up tempo as he watched Marinette consider.

“Why?” Marinette whispered at last, with a sigh that hurt his heart. Her last relationship must really have done a number on her.

Luka cupped her cheek in his hand, coaxing her to look up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just...have a feeling about you. I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. I can’t explain it logically, I just...know. You’re someone I want to know. I felt it from the moment I saw you, before I’d even had a single drink.”

Marinette pursed her lips, looking up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to that,” she said after a long moment.

Luka let his thumb stroke lightly against her lower lip. “You don’t have to live up to anything. Just be you, and let what happens happen.” He bent and kissed her, slipping a hand behind her neck to get a better angle as he plundered her mouth in a way that was definitely not appropriate for a public place. Luka was pretty far beyond caring at the moment though. That this gorgeous, sweet, vibrant woman, could question that someone might be drawn to her, attracted to her for more than a passing moment...it just wasn’t right.

Marinette relaxed into him with a quiet moan. Her hand slipped under his jacket and pressed into his chest, feeling him up shamelessly, and his own fingers tightened on her hip.

“So,” he breathed, when he finally let her slip reluctantly away. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked up at him, and bit her reddened lip, and then quietly asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Luka grinned. “Actually, not so much, I’m usually playing gigs on weekends...how about Thursday? That way I don’t have to hurry away.”

Marinette hummed, and pulled out her phone. He watched the fingertip she pressed against her lips as she considered her schedule, and admired her bright eyes when she smiled up at him. “Okay, Thursday works.”

“It’s a date,” Luka smiled so softly that Marinette’s heart fluttered. How did he do that, kiss her like that and then do something so—so sweet .

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought as he got out his own phone to swap numbers with her. What if she fell for him?

But...he sounded like he wanted her to fall for him. Maybe? But what if he fell for her, and she was just using him for sex? Because he’d made her feel so, so good...important and beautiful and wanted and…

It might not even be like that again, she told herself. Maybe I just imagined it because I was lonely and depressed and feeling unwanted...maybe I would be thinking about anyone who gave me some attention that way. Maybe we’ll just...fizzle out and it won’t even be an issue..

Luka curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“I…” her voice was shaking, and she took a breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just. I’m tired.”

He didn’t believe her. “You’re okay,” he told her, kissing her cheek gently, and then the corner of her mouth. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette’s phone beeped, and she picked it up with relief. “He’s almost here.”

She slid out of the booth, and Luka followed. He left some bills on the table and took her hand as they walked out.

“That’s my ride,” Marinette gestured as Nino pulled up at the curb. She turned to face Luka, stepping close. He set his hands on her hips and squeezed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but she paused, and then turned and caught his mouth instead. Luka moved easily to meet her in one of those slow, deep kisses that made it seem like he had no other place in the world to be. She stroked his cheeks with her fingertips and kissed him again, and then again as she slid her fingers back up into his hair. “Goodbye, Luka,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“See you later,” he corrected softly.

As he let go of her she felt something slide along her hip and looked down to see the pink scarf that had been tied around her waist slipping away. She looked up at Luka’s grinning face as he winked at her and draped the gauzy scarf around his neck. He raised the fabric to his face and inhaled. “See you Thursday,” he told her, eyes twinkling, and turned to walk away.

Marinette’s knees felt shaky as she stepped down the curb and opened the car door.

Nino was hunched down in the front seat, both hands pulling his cap over his face. “Geeze, Nette,” he muttered as she fell into the seat and tucked her feet inside. “I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, but as she flipped down the visor to check herself in the vanity mirror, she saw pink cheeks and sparkling eyes and a broad smile, and knew that she wasn’t convincing. She pressed her fingers to her lips and, for Nino’s sake, fought down the urge to squeal.

Her glow dimmed a bit as she followed Nino up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Alya. She loved her friend, but...she wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. She tugged the collar of Luka’s shirt a little higher on her neck, and tried to remember what Luka had told her. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Well well well,” Alya drawled as Marinette slipped into the apartment after Nino. “Your very first walk of shame.” She smirked. “Marinette, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What I had in me was a lot of vodka,” Marinette huffed, and came over to the table, accepting the glass of ice water Alya pushed across to her.

Alya waited until Marinette had the drink at her lips to add, “And a hot guy, apparently.”

Marinette choked, just as Alya had intended. “Alya!”

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t, girl,” Alya snickered. “You, my friend, look very well fucked.”

Marinette blushed hard. She was, at that, but Alya didn’t have to put it so...crassly.

Nino groaned. “You know what, just...knock and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want to think about it.” He went down the hall into Alya’s bedroom and shut the door.

“So you said goodbye to Mr. Right For Tonight?” Alya asked, tapping her fingers against her own glass. “You have all your stuff, right?” She frowned. “Are those his clothes? What happened to your dress?”

“I have it with me,” Marinette defended, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “He just...thought I’d be more comfortable in something else.” Not for a million euros would she have told Alya the whole truth about the dress. “And yes, I said goodbye. For now, anyway,” Marinette muttered, and caught Alya’s gaze when she looked up. Something in that look made her squirm. “Actually we have a date later this week,” she admitted.

“A date?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “Marinette, maybe I need to clue you in on a few things about this whole one night stand business. As in, one single night. After which you…” She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You’re not supposed to get a date.”

Marinette shrugged, and reached over to pluck a croissant from Alya’s plate, just to have something to do with her hands. “Oops.”

Alya’s frown deepened.

“What? It’s no big deal,” Marinette defended, though she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need. “We just...thought we’d like to see each other again.”

Alya looked troubled for a moment, and then grinned. “It was that good, huh?”

“Well—” Marinette squirmed in her seat again. “It was fine, okay? He just...seemed nice.”

“Uh huh.”

“It was your idea anyway!” Marinette pointed out defensively.

“My idea was for you to go out and get buzzed and enjoy being drooled over,” Alya grinned. “You decided to get hammered and then get laid all on your own. I hope you’re satisfied .”

Marinette couldn’t cover the silly smile that wanted to come up at that, but when Alya snickered, Marinette shook herself back to reality and sighed. “It was probably my imagination making things better than they were. I was feeling pretty down last night and I did have a lot to drink. And it has, you know. Been a while.”

“Maybe started seeing through beer goggles?” Alya teased. “Not that I blame you, I thought he was pretty cute when you were dancing, but I’d had a few myself by then too. Not your usual type, but it’s good to branch out.”

Marinette blushed. She didn’t want to tell Alya that while her memories of the evening were hazy, she remembered Luka in the morning very clearly, not only the lines of his body but the broadness of his back beneath her arms as she clung to him, the ripple of the muscles tensing and releasing against her as he moved, the dark intensity of his eyes and the way they fluttered closed when she did something he liked.

She picked up her water glass and took a long gulp. No, she hadn’t needed the liquor to be attracted to him. Not at all.

Still. She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, even now. “Watch,” Marinette sighed, setting the glass down. “The date’ll be a bust and that’ll be the end of it. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other and we’ll exchange awkward texts for a few days and then we’ll never speak again.”

“Hmm,” Alya raised her eyebrows. “We’ll see. It’s fine if you want to have fun, Marinette, you sure as hell could use some. Just be careful, always use protection, and don’t let him take any nudes.”

Marinette blushed deeply, and bit into her croissant. “Thanks so much for your concern,” she muttered around the mouthful.

***

Marinette knew she was in trouble as soon as she locked eyes with Luka and her stomach started doing somersaults. The slow smile he gave her was so distracting that she barely heard his greeting, or the compliment that followed. She didn’t remember putting her hand in his, it was just there, his fingers rubbing lightly over her knuckles. They hadn’t even made it to the restaurant when Luka tugged her into a shadowed corner and kissed her in that slow, purposeful way he had. His voice surprised her a little, smoother than it had been, without the roughness of hard usage, but, she found, just as seductive. Any resistance Marinette might have had crumbled the second he turned them out of the light and breathed may I ? against her lips.

When they did finally make it to their table, Luka was just as easygoing as he’d been on their first...night, and he meant it when he said he wanted to get to know her. He asked her questions, and seemed interested in what she said, even when she babbled, watching her with a quietly amused smile. He was interesting, too, telling her about his travels for the past year with his band. They had a surprising number of tastes in common. His eyes were fixed on her whenever she spoke, and he was touching her whenever he got the chance, taking her hand or playing with her fingers, brushing her hair back or letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Despite the kisses they shared whenever one of them couldn’t help themselves, his touch didn’t feel like seduction, just tenderness. Marinette felt like the center of his world, and after so long living on the sidelines of someone else’s life, she reveled in it.

They were laughing as he walked her home.

“You did not,” Marinette gasped, one hand over her mouth and the other curled around Luka’s arm.

“We totally did. What can I say, it was a full moon and my best friend is crazy.” Luka shrugged, and grinned while Marinette laughed.

“Wait, so are you a werewolf?” Marinette asked teasingly, as they approached the awning of her building.

“No,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you’re into that. If so, I can see what arrangements I can make for the next full moon.”

“You’d get bitten by a werewolf for me?” Marinette giggled. “How sweet.”

“I’d rather be bitten by you,” Luka teased back, and his hand found her hip, and her arms came up around his neck, and then they were kissing. Heat welled up in her, making her push up against him. Luka made a sound low in his throat and his hands slid to her lower back, pressing her closer. Oh, she wanted him, and by the feel of him he wanted her too, and…

Well. There really wasn’t any point in denying their mutual desire, was there. Marinette pulled away to press her lips along his jaw, and he made that sound again as he tilted his head for her.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Marinette asked, toying with his collar. “My roommate’s out of town tonight, so we won’t be, um...bothering anybody.”

“I’d love to,” Luka told her, voice deepening. “I’d hate for you to be lonely, all by yourself.”

“Oh, I can entertain myself,” Marinette said daringly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I have an excellent imagination. There’s definitely advantages to having the real you here, though.”

“Play your cards right and I’m sure we can manage the best of both worlds.” Luka bent and kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to make her shudder. “You can start with telling me how you imagine we get upstairs. Are we making out in the elevator or am I chasing you up the stairs?”

“Elevator,” Marinette sighed, head tilting as he retraced his favorite route up her neck. “I don’t want to wear your legs out just yet.” She paused to consider. “Maybe you could chase me that far, though.”

Luka pressed another long, slow kiss to her mouth. “Then you’d better run,” he told her, grinning playfully. “I won’t be responsible for what happens when I catch you.” They both giggled, and then Marinette broke away, running for the building doors. Luka darted after her, staying just at her heels, sweeping her up in his arms just in time to carry her through the elevator doors. Marinette spared a brief moment to wonder what she was doing, being so bold, and in sight of the entire lobby, too, but Luka grinned at her, and she forgot to care. Marinette leaned over him to press the button for her floor, and then forgot everything but his mouth under hers.

Later, when they said a lingering goodbye at her door, and he asked her if she’d like to go out again, she didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She’d figure out a way to explain it to Alya later.

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #oops #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #i'll never not know you #pro lukamari #nsfwish fic #alya salt #depending on your sensitivity #one night stand to lovers

70 notes · View notes

pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

lucky

pairing: marcus moreno x gn!reader

request: from @chibi-liz05 “Can I request a Marcus Moreno fic (or ficlet, or drabble) where either Marcus or reader gets hurt (not seriously hurt) and end up in a med bay, kinda woozy from pain meds and they have a funny and/or cute conversation when the other one goes to check on the one hurt? Please.”

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, death. it starts out pretty darn angsty, but gets silly and fluffy i promise. these two are hella married.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: honestly this is nothing like you asked for until the end? but this lil drabble idea inspired this whole one shot so i hope you enjoy what you helped my brain create? i loved this, needless to say.

i love this himbo and i’m so happy to write for him.

And thank you for the medical advice to @disgruntledspacedad! Thanks for helping me choose the right drug! 😆

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

This was Marcus’s least favorite part of his job.

As the newly deemed Director of the Heroics, he was the one to decide who went out on what mission when and with who. Normally it wasn’t too tall of an order. After all, he was chosen as director for good reason. He was perfect for the job. He was smart, organized, resourceful, and tried in everything to understand people-- whether that be in their personal habits or in their superpowered strengths. He was often commended for his ability to form the perfect teams for whatever job arose; and it came pretty naturally, it really did.

That is, until emotion got involved, until personal bias compromised his decision making.

He was determined to not let you go on the mission, absolutely not. The band of powered individuals the team was going after were incredibly dangerous and unpredictable.They’d been a problem for months and this mission was all or nothing. The high stakes and vulnerable position made him incredibly reluctant to make you a part of the team that was heading out under the cover of night to apprehend them. When he didn’t name you among them, he was immediately countered by the rest of the heroes in the room about the choice.

By all the accounts they were right. Given the tactics of the mission at hand, your teleportation abilities were perfect for the job. And if he was being even a little more honest, he’d agree with Miracle Guy that not sending you with them was a “disservice to the team.” It was and he knew it. In a very un-Marcus Moreno move, he was making the completely wrong choice and he wasn’t going to let the sound judgement of anyone else change his mind.

“Psion is not going and that is final,” he boomed. The room became deathly silent. “Now, go get ready. You leave in 20.” But no one moved, no one could. They were glued to the floor, watching their unflappable leader become uncharacteristically flapped.

Marcus was the one to stomp out of the room first and you followed him without hesitation.

“Marcus,” you called, nearly running to keep up with long strides. “Marcus!”

He didn’t even deign to turn around.

In a blink you were now in front of Marcus, hands out to stop him from continuing on without talking to you.

“No teleporting outside of work, Psion” he snapped lowly, but he still obliged your silent request and remained in front of you. You blinked at the small outburst.

“Mind losing the ‘tude so we can talk like adults?” You countered. Marcus lowered his head and whispered an apology. At that you stepped closer to him, your hands coming to rest on his tense shoulders in a soothing manner. “What’s bothering you, love? You know you can talk to me. This isn’t like you at all.”

When his eyes met yours again they were pained.

“It’s too dangerous,” was all he could get out at the moment. His exhale was unsteady as he leaned in, his forehead meeting yours in a much more “Marcus” gesture that brought you both back down to earth.

You sighed, fingers carding through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Of course it is. It always is.”

“Not like this,” he countered, biting his lip. “These guys are no joke.”

“Neither am I,” you grinned, tapping his nose with your own before pulling back to look at his face in full. He laughed a little, but it wasn’t whole-hearted, you saw it in his eyes.

“And I trust you. I do. I know you’re capable. I just--”

“Worry?”

“Yeah, that.” His eyebrows were furrowed. You softly ran a thumb across the harsh lines it made, smoothing them and making him smile.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say nothing is going to happen. Because it might.” He winced at the words, not wanting to think too hard on what “it” could be. “But I’m prepared and so is the rest of the team. We’re gonna watch each other’s backs like we always do and getting everyone out safely is going to be our priority over completing the mission. It’s going to be business as usual and it’s going to be OK. I’m going to be OK. You’ve gotta let me go. They need me out there tonight.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just… Be careful. Be ready in 10.” You sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You kissed him. “It’s gonna be fine.” He kissed you. “We’ve got ‘em this time. I know it.” One last kiss, strong and lingering. You tilted your head, an invitation-- no, a plead-- for a deeper kiss, which he obliged before being the one to break it.

“Go,” he murmured, “Or you won’t make it before they leave.” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled through the sudden onset of nerves before turning and walking down the hallway to join up with the rest of the team.

***

That had been hours ago. Now Marcus was in command with a skeleton crew, the late hours of the assignment sending most of the support and technical team home. He quickly decided that was probably for the best. The sweet little interns did not need to see their mentor so stressed and antsy. No, he had to be “on” for them, he had to be the Marcus Moreno. And he couldn’t be that right now. Right now he was an anxious husband and teammate.

“Where are they now, Connie?” he asked the poor woman at the comms desk behind him for the upteenth time that hour.

“Trackers say they’re still in the hanger, sir. Last update was that they had the grunts and were waiting for the ring leader to respond to their distress call.”

He wasn’t responding. It’d been two hours. And that was a major cause for concern.

“Tell them to just bring who they have back here and we’ll keep searching for him. This is still a win as far as I’m concerned.”

The man who was on comms moved to press the talk button to speak to the team, but the comm crackled to life before he had the opportunity.

“It’s an ambush!” Miracle Guy yelled from the other side, “We’re sitting ducks out here!”

Marcus’ heart dropped into his stomach.

“Go! Go! Get back to the-” He heard your panicked voice call out, the sentence interrupted by a cry of pain.

The room spun. Marcus knew he was yelling but he couldn’t hear a word of what he said. It all just sounded like white noise now, mixing with the jumbled thoughts in his head and the ringing in his ears. He must’ve said something right though, because everyone was working. One was arranging a rescue, one was calling out the vitals of the team via the trackers on their wrists-- everything seemed fine by the tone of voice, but Marcus couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t grasp a word that was said to him. He was totally on autopilot, only able to respond in vague nods of yes or no.

“Hey,” one voice next to him cut through the fog and he looked up to Lucas, the man who ran comms, “They’re going to be ok.”

Marcus’s response was non-committal, not wanting to pull the young man down to share his current state of mind, but not allowing himself to share in his confident optimism either.

The next hour went by in a whirlwind and the next thing he knew, Marcus was downstairs in the medical wing waiting on you and your team to arrive. He’d been in this position before and the thought of it made his throat close up. The images flashed through his mind of a gurney and too much blood and a confused little girl and black clothing on a rainy day in April.

He closed his eyes harder as if to block it all out.

No, it couldn’t be like last time.

It was then that he heard the distinct sound of the sliding doors opening and the murmur of a small group of people. His eyes shot open and, though he stood to his feet, he felt that he could collapse in relief. There was no gurney. Minimal blood-- just a couple of cuts on your face. You were hobbling in, arm around Miracle Guy as he helped you keep pressure off of your left leg. Your face was pained, which probably should have concerned him more, but he was just too happy to see you upright… Breathing. As long as he had that, you could get through anything else together.

He watched as the medical team surrounded all of you, asking questions, prodding delicately at injuries. Marcus could vaguely hear your voice cutting in and out through it all.

“Super strength… Kicked… Broken.”

They had asked you a couple more unheard questions that you responded to in a simple yes or no and then they were leading you to sit on one of the beds. He watched as you went, noticing the way you were looking around for… Something.

Oh.

He smiled.

You were looking for him.

In all his panic and then relief, it hadn’t occurred to him that you would want to see him just as badly in your current state. His heart warmed at the way your tired eyes lit up when they met his. He all but ran to you.

“Hey baby,” he cooed, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. He’d never been more in awe of you, that you were real, that way you were his, that he could kiss you freely. When he pulled away he observed your injuries closer. Head wounds were always scary amounts of bloody, but he could see that all of the cuts were minor. He brushed a strand of hair away from where sweat and blood had plastered it to your forehead. “What happened? How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you hissed as a stab of pain surged through your leg. He looked down to observe it. His immediate diagnosis wasn’t a good one. It was terribly hard to break a femur, but he was certain this was exactly what it would look and feel like. “Some super-strength asshole kicked me in the thigh to knock me down and--” You winced again. “They think she broke my femur, and I would have to agree.”

“I have to say I’m thinking that too,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed your forehead in between the cuts.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that tried to keep me from going. I forced you to let me go.”

“I should’ve stood my ground and had you and the team be mad at me,” he said completely seriously.

“You’re ridiculous.” You side-eyed him, but smiled through the words. One of the medical staff returned at that moment, bringing over supplies to clean your cuts and asking if you’d like something for the pain while they got prepped for surgery. You nodded eagerly.

“I’ll take this over,” Marcus said, hands open to take the first aid kit, “If you want to go get that?”

“Oh, sir I couldn’t ask you to--” The young woman gawked, slightly unbelieving that her boss’s boss’s boss would volunteer to do her job.

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you.”

“A-- Yes, right away.” She handed him the kit and seemed to flee his presence to get an IV ready. You sat in silence a few moments as he prepared everything. He seemed lost, even in this small task. It took him longer than it should’ve to get his ducks in a row.

“Someone’s a little edgy,” you prodded, watching as too-intense eyes focused on cleaning dried blood from your forehead. He shook his head, eyes softening, but maintaining their focus. The whole endeavor was very clearly an attempt at keeping his hands as busy as his mind was.

“I’d thought I‘d lost you. I thought...” His jaw tightened-- and it wasn’t due to the effort of wiping up blood. You stopped his hand from continuing its ministrations, lacing your fingers together.

“That it was all happening again?” you whispered.

“It was like deja vu, baby. Everything was just like before.” The last word almost came out like a whimper.

“But it’s not. I’m right here. I’m ok.” You brought your forehead to meet his comfortingly. The cuts stung just a little at the touch, but you remained there with him, feeling a deep, grounding breath fan lightly across your face.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You kissed his nose and pulled away as you heard the medic return with the Versed for the pain. Marcus stayed right by your side as you were put on the IV, a hand staying firmly on yours. Which more for him than for you if he was honest. It brought him back to reality and out of his head. He no longer had to imagine the worst, because the best had happened. You were really there. It wasn’t a repeat of the aching horror of seven years before, the day that still had you shaking him awake from unspoken nightmares. You’d made it home to him and Missy-- but he was going to be hard-pressed to go against his better judgment again, no matter how much the team needed you.

“Alright, you’ll start to feel it in just a few seconds. We’ll be back soon to take you into surgery, ok?” the medic explained to you as the IV was in place. You nodded.

“In the meantime, let me keep working on this,” Marcus gestured to the bandages in the kit. As he got to work, he watched the look in your eyes totally change, the Versed taking effect.

“Are you alright?” he asked, covering the cut that just barely grazed your right eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you sighed dreamily in a total demeanor change. The whole room lit up in his eyes. Marcus grinned at the way your posture slumped just slightly in relaxation. “And how are you?” you winked. Oh, this was going to be fun. He really needed to keep you talking.

“I’m doing great. Happy to be here with you, sweetheart. Now, sit still while I take care of this last cut,” he cooed.

“Ok,” you giggled. “What a charmer.”

“I try my best, darling.” He played along, enjoying the way the Versed had turned you into a starstruck girl with a crush.

“Oh noooo,” you squeaked suddenly.Marcus panicked, checking you over quickly for further injury.

“What is it? Are you ok?”

But you only grabbed his left hand, holding it up.

“You’re married!”

Marcus blinked. What was in that stuff they’d given you? You put your face in your hands and Marcus tried to contain his laughter at the way your voice was muffled by your fingers. “You’ve been so nice and caring! I wanted to ask you on a dateeee. I’m so sorry if I came on too strong.”

“Baby,” he called with a sweet lilt to his voice-- still trying to hold in a laugh.

“You shouldn’t call me that,” you sighed sadly, pouting, “You’re married. We can’t be together.”

“Of course I’m married,” he held your left hand up now, “I’m married to you, you goof.” You blinked at the silvery ring on your finger.

“Oh!” you practically yelled, “That’s so cool!” Marcus’ heart warmed at the way your eyes lit up at the realization. Even drugged out of your mind you were excited to be with him. He couldn’t help but feel likewise.

“I agree,” he smiled, “It’s very cool.” He intertwined his fingers and yours.

“I’m so lucky,” you grinned toothily in response. It was so unlike the smiles you usually gave him: too exaggerated and, in a word, dopey. But it held the same affection.

“No, I’m definitely the lucky one,” he countered. Your grin faltered slightly as you grew sleepy-- another possible effect of the Versed, he guessed. “Now, go ahead and lay back for me ok? I’ll see you as soon as you’re out of surgery.” You nodded in agreement and then right off to sleep.

Oh, he could not wait for you to get out so he could tell you about just how “lucky” the two of you were.

#marcus moreno x reader #bri writes #marcus moreno

262 notes · View notes

mydisasteracademia · 3 years

Text

Random LOV Headcanons

• Repeating something from my book “Did My Time”, due to the damage to Dabi’s body, he needs to use eyedrops multiple times a day. The amount depends on whether or not he uses his Quirk a lot; if he uses it more, he’ll need to practically drown his eyes with special medicated eyedrops to help with the dry-eye.

Adding onto this, due to his body’s natural affinity for the cold, he prefers cold things more than hot, because he has a worse reaction to hot/spicy things compared to other people (just like his mother). Yes, this means I HC him to absolutely never get brain freeze. The others are always jealous of him whenever he chugs a Slurpee in one go.

His burnt, scarred skin is extremely sensitive, especially to scents and scented lotions. He’s found that ointment works to keep things moist, but that also means he needs to be constantly re-applying it every time it dries, given that his Quirk is constantly drying out his skin to the point of damage. Every time his staples tug, even a little, it’s really painful and he’s prone to bleeding.

He does have a bit of a protective instinct, but only over those he deems weaker than him (and let’s be honest, he already has a lot of trouble with his own self-image, so that list might be shorter than you’d think). Definitely has an ‘irritated older sibling to hyperactive younger sibling’ relationship with Toga once they start to get closer. Gets unnecessarily competitive with others he considers stronger than himself, even if he himself doesn’t immediately realize what he’s doing.

Due to his Quirk being dangerous to himself, he can smell off, and he gets very touchy about it. Having grown up in a wealthy family, he can get very insecure at his bedraggled appearance and smell. He literally smells like burnt flesh all the time, and it lingers on his own body and his clothing. Due to this, he always hits up a laundromat to wash his clothes a few times a week, using money he’s picked off of wealthier victims of his. Really lays on the cologne to mask his natural corpse smell (and usually ends up smelling like pine trees, smoke, and something vaguely rotting).

Dabi is incredibly touch-starved, given that most people look at him and recoil in horror. He’s more like a cat, though. If you give him too much attention, he gets annoyed, but if he happens to rest his arm on your head or shoulder, that’s his way of subtly asking for positive attention. Depending on who’s doing it, he won’t immediately shove someone away if they decide to hug him. He’s a bit iffy with touch, and the fear of accidentally hurting someone he’s close to with his own Quirk messes with his head a lot. He can be a bit of an attention whore, given his fucked-up childhood, and when he gets praise it can put him in a good mood for a while. He really internalizes negative attention and can brood about not being good enough for a long time though. Won’t admit it, but he lives for headpats. Please give him headpats. He deserves headpats. Just watch out for the hair dye.

• Shigaraki’s Quirk does affect his body, though not by quickly decaying him like he does other things. Instead it’s more of a ‘slow-burn’ decay, and his constant itching is one side-effect of that. Since his body is constantly breaking down (his scratching gets rid of a lot of dead skin on the surface), his skin is incredibly sensitive and he can’t use most face/skin products because it damages him even more and he reacts horribly to it. So far he hasn’t found a brand that can help with his marred skin. Adding to this, he can’t stand spicy foods because it aggravates his decaying body.

Since his body is in a constant state of death and dying, this means he can smell off on even good days. It could be described as musty or ‘stale’, and since he’s extremely sensitive to scents and lotions/creams, he can’t exactly just use any old cologne to mask it.

Sometimes his throat gets super dry and he chokes on debris from his own mouth and throat. He needs to constantly hydrate to keep things from getting a bit too dusty. This means he prefers wet/moist foods over dry, and if he eats anything dry he’ll have a drink to go with it. At Kurogiri’s insistence, he always has a few bottles of water in his room at a time so he doesn’t have to get up in the night to go to a working sink for a drink.

This boy is so touch-starved. Whenever someone of the League hugs him, he acts huffy about it, but he doesn’t shove them off (unless it’s Dabi giving him a noogie, then he threatens death, much to the taller one’s amusement). He secretly craves touching other people. He’s terrified of accidentally dusting someone he cares about again (his family’s deaths haunt his dreams more nights than not), but if someone hugs him he just kind of melts into it. Someone please hug this boy. He needs headpats and positive reinforcement.

• Spinner absolutely loves sunning himself on rocks during summer. Whenever the weather is hot and it’s sunny, if he has a day off you’ll find him chilling outside on a rock just soaking up the sun.

Adding onto this, he really loves humid, hot weather. While the rest of the League (especially Dabi) is suffering, he’s just vibing with the weather.

And he sheds. Usually a few times a year, but it’s not uncommon to see large swaths of translucent white patches left behind. This can annoy the League, but to his credit, Spinner tries to keep it on the down-low. More than once he’s tried inconspicuously rubbing his arm or cheek against Shigaraki to try and help get the dead skin off. (He gets really irritated, but it helps with the itching a bit, so he doesn’t really complain unless he’s trying to concentrate on something.)

• Compress will casually swipe up random items that the League leaves around and later might give them back depending on what it is. The other members can get varying levels of annoyed at this, but they don’t get too beat up about it considering Compress’s Quirk and personality. (This is how Toga lost her favorite lip gloss. She didn’t stop pouting for a week until Twice bought her another one.)

When he gets anxious or bored, he often resorts to simple hand tricks to keep himself entertained: fiddling around with his marbles, practicing simple card tricks, or practicing magic.

• Toga loves horror. Almost any horror. Especially guro. During movie nights with the League, as long as the movie has some form of mutilation and/or blood, she’s giving it her full attention. Adding to this, she really loves anything written by Junji Ito and has read Tomie about twenty times. Despite this, she has a soft spot for cutesy things and her aesthetic is Gurokawa. She definitely has a Gloomy Bear plush or two.

She definitely has a fondness for beauty products, given that she’s still just a normal girl despite her Quirk. This fact can make her really insecure, and she’s prone to depressive episodes just like anyone else in the League where she does herself up real pretty just to try and feel more ‘in tune’ with her femininity and less like the monster her parents saw her as. Magne helped with this a lot in the past, but now that she’s gone she relies more on the others to help cheer her up.

She is not above forcing the other League members into spa days. Shigaraki is the only one who doesn’t have to get a facial, though she does insist on painting his nails and doing his hair.

• Kurogiri’s mist/fog can get blown away quicker than he can create more, but only by a very strong wind. It’s hilarious. Shigaraki can’t stop teasing him for it.

Is not above using his Quirk to forcefully separate two squabbling parties, especially in the bar hideout.

When he’s bored, he does bar tricks, much to Toga’s delight.

Since quite a few League members are under drinking age, he always makes sure to have sparkling cider on hand.

He carries snacks and a first-aid kit every time the League goes out on a mission -- especially when it’s Shigaraki heading out. He really does care for the man and will be the first to hand him ointment whenever his skin gets really crumbly or damaged.

Has come to reluctantly see the League as people he worries for. That’s the closest to “hm yes these are my children now I must protect” that you’ll get.

He misses Magne for how sensible she could be. He appreciates Compress’s overall chill vibe and his being the voice of reason among their little group of mass murderers.

• Kurogiri and Magne were the League’s parental figures. You can’t fight me on this. (Kurogiri reluctantly, Magne enthusiastically.) Compress was more like the outgoing uncle that has a sense of humor nobody can really understand at first and was definitely a theater major in college.

• Shigaraki and Dabi love chicken nuggets. Every time someone brings home fast food, you can bet your ass they’ll have ordered like a fifty-piece chicken nugget meal from wherever sells that. Constantly have to deal with each other trying to swipe the other’s nuggets when they finish their own.

• Twice loves Vine compilations and can recite a worrying number of them from memory. He gets a kick out of the “A Bagel, Two Bagels” one for how much he relates to it.

• Before she died, Magne loved when Toga begged her to help her with makeup. It helped with her dysphoria when Toga would doll her up.

She loved window-shopping and imagining herself wearing some of the stylish clothes in shop windows.

Despite her cruel persona towards her enemies, Magne had a soft spot for elegant-cute things, kinda like Toga but a little less bloody.

• Muscular always challenges the other League members to arm-wrestling when he’s around. He always wins. The others have learnt not to accept his challenges, lest they want bruises/sprains.

• Mustard is very childish in his tastes. He loves chicken nuggets and mac n’ cheese. Provokes people by pulling his lower eyelid down and sticking his tongue at them. I can definitely imagine him muttering “Eat my shorts” or “Don’t have a cow, man” whenever another member is angry about something.

• In this household we pretend that Moonfish does not exist.

• If the League had Switches, you bet your ass they play Animal Crossing on them.

Toga would go for a ‘Aika Village’ aesthetic, all gloomy and creepy but with an undeniably cute element to it. Definitely wears pastels and gothic-themed clothing.

Shigaraki models his after his favorite RPG and hunts down NPCs that fit the personalities of the various characters. His favorite characters tend to be dogs. Will not hesitate to kick out any animal who fails his ‘vibe check’. Surprisingly, this game can calm him down almost as well as an RPG. Joycon drift is the bane of his existence.

Compress uses only the most glamorous, expensive items on his island. Outright refuses to use dirt paths. Uses only Snooty villagers.

Dabi wants his island to look the best and is uncharacteristically stern about how his island looks. Everything is very neat and streamlined (and he has an outdoor gym near his player’s home). Will physically fight anyone who tries to ruin it by littering or messing around on it. He has a rivalry with Compress about whose island looks the best.

Spinner doesn’t really care about how his island looks. He just wants to max out his encyclopedias. Shigaraki once caught him up at 3 AM because he was trying to catch a spider crab.

Kurogiri doesn’t play it that often, so his island is fairly undeveloped. Doesn’t really care about it, considering his responsibilities to the League overpower a video game.

Muscular doesn’t care about it at all and doesn’t play.

Mustard made his island look like something out of Harvest Moon or Stardew Valley; a town area, a forest, and even a beach.

#lov headcanons #league of villains

42 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Stress relief is crucial

Oh what a shock, smut for the favored dr stone ship. Stano fans come get ya’lls juice, because I’m working on more of this sort of content lololol.

Warnings: Not much, just some soft sex, massages, unhealthy energy drink habits.

Exhaustion felt like a weighted blanket wrapped around Xeno's body and mind as he pulled into his driveway in the early hours of the day. For three days, three days, he'd been so swamped with preparations for an experiment that he hadn't even come home, let alone sleep more than two hours a night, so he was more than ready to get inside and just flop onto the couch and watch tv to relax. He knew he still wouldn't sleep until maybe noon, since he'd downed some energy tablets and an energy drink before leaving the lab, so he'd have to settle for a show he'd seen through a few times and just relax. Which, as he opened the door to his home and walked in, he was fine with.

However, Xeno wasn't greeted with the normal sight of an empty couch and dark livingroom when he opened the door. Instead, he found the light on and his room mate and childhood best friend, Stanley, sitting on the couch. "Why are you up so late?" He asked, admittedly a bit snappy, but the platinum blonde soldier was hardly phased, "Y'know my sleep schedule is garbage, doll, I either sleep all day or not at all." He snorted, blowing out a puff of smoke as he spoke, "When was the last time you slept though? Because you kinda look like a raccoon with two black eyes." He pointed out, giving another snort when the scientist flipped him off and just decided to go to his room. Stan curiously followed. "I'm overworked, under-appreciated, and too damned stressed." He muttered as he flopped face down onto the bed and let his friend run a hand through his snowy hair. "If it'd help, I could give you a back rub?" He offered, running his finger down the back of Xeno's neck and along his back. The shorter man grunted, "I'm too wired from energy drinks to sleep, so I guess." He knew Stan was giving him a dirty look without even turning his head to face the soldier, but he didn't chide him or anything. Instead, he simply climbed onto the bed and threw his leg over Xeno, straddling him and sitting on his hips. As if to confirm the need for the massage, Xeno's back cracked audibly, making Stan snort. Before the cranky scientist could complain or whine, his friend's hands were rubbing at his shoulder muscles with a calculated and measured grip, earning more little pops as he worked the tension from his body. It felt absolutely heavenly after the hellish few days the NASA scientist had had. "You allowed to talk about what you were doing to make you so high strung?" Stanley hummed after the man below him let out a combination of a groan and a moan, "One of my coworkers dropped the ball on his part of preparations, so we had to scramble to pick up the slack and ensure the experiment will turn out right. It was a nightmare and a half..." he mumbled, sighing happily while snaking his hands beneath his pillow while the blonde moved his calloused hands a bit lower on his back. Stan hummed again, as if he were thinking, and put a bit more pressure against Xeno's back so it'd give another audible pop as well as make Xeno give a small cry and he could plant a soft kiss to the back of his neck, "I know a very quick way to kill two birds with one stone, if you'd like." The offer fanned a small flame in Xeno's stomach and cheeks, fuelled further by the way Stan's painted lips trailed down his vertebrae, leaving a trail of surprisingly arousing, loving kisses. The smaller male stayed silent for a while, just letting Stan rub the stress out of his exhaustion-riddled frame. Every once in a while, Stan would lean down again to kiss at his neck, coaxing the words he knew the awkward NASA employee wanted to say. He really did know the scientist too well. It took the soldier ghosting his soft lips against Xeno's sweetspot for him to finally break. "mmmm, fine. It would be efficient to do," he agreed, turning a darker red when he felt his childhood friend smile against his pale neck, "J-just nothing too rough...I need to be able to walk." he added with a huff. With that, the soldier got up and tugged at the over-worked man's lab coat and shirt, so he begrudgingly got up and took them and his pants off, trying not to turn a darker shade of crimson as he laid back down. Now down to his boxers. After that, Stan stripped down to the same level of undress, returning to his spot and continuing to rub his hands over the pale man's lower back. Those same calloused hands continued down the NASA scientist's body, this time with more kisses to his neck, mostly focused around that spot that set his veins on fire and drew out whiney little sighs. Mentally, Xeno cursed his friend for having each and every weakness of his seemingly memorized after only one or two hedonistic nights, but he didn't actually stop him from kissing and nipping at that special spot until he was letting out proper little moans. Once he'd gotten those noises, the blonde tugged his boxers off and his hips up just enough for him to at least slip his legs beneath him. With his hips now in his friend's lap, Xeno could feel how excited the man above him was getting, and he couldn't lie and say he wasn't further riled up by the feeling of Stan's member straining against his boxers. The fog clouding his logic was thickened further when the blonde slowly begun to grind against him, his rough hands now on his pale hips to keep him in place while he lazily humped against him while letting out some of his own groans. "Y'sure you don't want to get railed, doll?" the soldier purred to the the scientist, who was hiding his face in his pillow to muffle his moans and breathy curses that the friction and anticipation pulled out. However, he still nodded, lifting his head long enough to get out, "Work day after tomorrow..." So, Stan gave a frustrated and dissapointed sigh, but obliged. Of course, the equally riled up genius had lied. In reality, the primal part of his brain was yowling for him to just call in to work and forsake the ability to walk without a limp, to let Stan absolutely throttle him like he had the day before his first deployment, but his logic stubbornly butt-in. So, the scientist had to make due with filing the demand for rough sex for another day, for now Stanley leaning over to fish the small bottle of lube he knew Xeno had hidden in his side table drawer was enough to make his breath hitch with excitement. Xeno then hummed, biting back the urge to curse when he felt his friend's fingers circling his hole before slipping a lubricated finger in. Stan chuckling at his shakey breath sent another bolt of pleasure down Xeno's spine, making his member twitch. The excitement was slowly killing the scientist, but all he could seem to manage was mumbled curses and gutteral moans each time his friend thrust his finger into him, gasping a bit when he worked in a second digit in order to warm him up for his length. "God damn it, Xeno. You should know better than to moan like a whore. What are you trying to do? Torture me?" The soldier groaned, leaning over onto his free arm and forward so he could continue to rub at the scientist's prostate while his breath tickled his ear. The only reply he got was a muffled 'fuck', but it satisfied him well enough. With that, he pulled his fingers out and just resituated the needy man so that he could replace his digits with his dick. They both groaned at the feeling that brought, Stan pausing to wrap his arms around his friend's leaner frame, holding him against his well muscled chest and trap him there before he slowly began to move. The sensation of being filled with warmth was enough for Xeno to orgasm, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the soldier from continuing to lazily hump him. In fact, the sparks of pain simply mixed into the storm of resurging pleasure, further enforced when Stan's restraint would seemingly slip and he'd give a harsher thrust. "S-Stan!" Xeno gasped, and that's all it took for the ex-soldier to understand. Without an intellegeable word further, he complied, speeding up and getting rougher. After that, the room was quickly filled with their moans and the rythmic slapping of skin against skin until they both orgasmed, the second time for Xeno, and his body felt another powerful wave of warmth flooding into him to heighten the already mind numbing euphoria. After that, Stanley slowed to a stop, but kept his member buried inside the NASA employee even when he rolled onto his side, bringing the scientist with. "Feelin' better, doll?" Stan breathed, and all the thoroughly tuckered out male could do was groan, already half asleep. Content with his friend keeping himself buried in him so long as he kept his arms around Xeno's pale, tired body and cuddled him.

#Stano #Stan x Xeno #drst #Dr stone #Stanley snyder #Xeno wingfield #scenario #not sfw #massage

18 notes · View notes

d0llygard3n · 3 years

Note

bad idea! + mina

=+ pairings: mina ashido x afab! reader, mentioned mina ashido x eijirou kirishima

=+ genre: kinda sfw, songfic

=+ warnings: implied nsfw, on and off relationships, minor swearing, one (1) mention of a panic attack

=+ song: bad idea! by girl in red

( red + italic = lyrics from the song )

!! everyone involved is 18+ !!

+=--------------------------------------------------------------------=+

“it was a bad idea, calling you up, was such a bad idea, cause now i’m even more lost”

you had been feeling lonely and numb lately, and you could only think of one thing. call ashido your mind told you, and that’s exactly what you did. she picked up immediately, and you two discussed when you two would next meet. apparently your mind had returned to it’s senses and know realized just how much of a bad idea this was, but you couldn’t back out now. so, you just went along with it.

“it was a bad idea, to think you were the one. was such a bad idea, cause now everything’s wrong”

your mind had ran through every moment you had with her, ever since you two were in middle school together. your first kiss, the first time you two held hands, the first time you two hugged, all of it. all for it to end because she had grown a little crush on a certain red-head. now that crush has faded, and you two were having a little on and off relationship. you absolutely hated it, of course, but you were just glad to have her.

“you put your hands under my shirt, undid my bra and said these words, “darling your so pretty it hurts””

when she got there, she had immediately started kissing you. not that you were complaining of course, this was how it normally went. she had started putting her hands under your shirt, undoing your bra. she had whispered into your shoulder “darling, you’re so pretty it fucking hurts” and giggled. you laughed, a little nervous at how close she was.

“you pushed me up against my wall, threw my clothes down on the floor, “darling, are you ready for more?”“

she had gently pushed you up against your wall, and lightly threw both yours and her clothes on the floor. she had mumbled into your neck “are you ready for more, darling?” you nodded lightly, squirming under her touch. “okay” she said with a smile, lightly kissing your collarbone.

“it was a bad idea, calling you up. was such a bad idea, i’m totally fucked.”

afterwards, you two had just hung out, preferring not to talk about what happened the night before. you had decided to take a shower and she would take one after. while you were in the shower, you had starting thinking about her. in the midst of these thoughts, you realized you were thinking of her the same way you thought of her back in middle school. god fucking dammit

“it was a bad idea, to think i could stop. was such a bad idea, i can’t get enough.”

after you two took showers, you had changed into your clothes. while changing, she had just ran up behind you and hugged you. it scared you, obviously, but you couldn’t complain. this was always the good before the bad, and you decided to cherish the good before the bad came. the softness didn’t take long though.

“it was a bad idea, needing you so late. was such a bad idea, cause i can’t think straight.”

you two had actually decided to go to breakfast together. while you two were eating, you started pondering. one of your thoughts was how much of a bad idea this was, getting close to her again. not because she was toxic, but because you were so in love with her you didn’t know if you could stand just being “friends” with her any longer.

“it was a bad idea, to bring you back home. was such a bad idea, i need to be alone”

after breakfast, you two had decided to go shopping. though, while in the car, you had started overthinking. the thoughts had fogged your brain, so much that you felt like you were gonna have a panic attack, but you toughed it out for her. when you both went your separate ways, you had to send a text that dreaded both you to write and for her to read.

“i’m sorry mina, but i don’t think i can handle doing this on-and-off relationship anymore. i just need to be alone for a while. i’ll text you if i change my mind.”

+=------------------------------------------------------------------------=+

current request status: open

#mina ashido x reader #mina ashido x you #mina ashido x y/n #ashido mina x reader #ashido mina x you #ashido mina x y/n #mina x reader #mina x you #mina x y/n #ashido x reader #ashido x you #ashido x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n

17 notes · View notes

dirtydragonthoughts · 3 years

Text

Constructicons Rising, Part 2 (IDW2 Galaxies Issue 2 Review)

Pitch: The Constructicons are training—they know their time is coming. They're almost ready to stand at their once glorious height. They just need a sign and some energon. When a mysterious benefactor arrives promising to provide both, how can the Constructicons resist?

Review

This was another set-up issue, this time focusing on the Insecticons.

I have to say, as a horror fan, I absolutely loved the angle this story was taking. It was dark, a little gory, and definitely promised big things. The question was whether it was going to pay off!

In essence, this little mini-series is telling the origin stories for both the Constructicons and the Insecticons. We get several pages of backstory on who Bombshell and company are, and why they're also stuck out in the middle of nowhere on a mining colony.

Bombshell draws the parallels between their stories plainly: they're both groups who are powerful, but also feared because of their abilities. Both groups were exiled – rather than killed – because they were seen as both dangerous and useful. And both groups are interested in returning home.

I have to say I feel a little bad for the Constructicons here. It's obvious that Bombshell is going to manipulate them into doing what he wants (or rather, what his boss Shockwave wants). The Constructicons are seen as useful tools, but Shockwave doesn't necessarily care about them as individuals.

Favourite Panel

This little statement of Hook's, about how the Constructicons used to be peaceful, kinda stabbed me in my heart. How might things have been different if they'd never combined? If people had never come to fear them?

Culture

Before he decided to go into construction, Scrapper's mentor got him a stint with Security where he picked up some fighting techniques. He didn't stay long, obviously, but it's another reminder that one of the responsibilities for a mentor is to show your mentee the possibilities of what they can be.

Physiology

Because they've been given such poor rations, Hook cobbled together a device that allows the Constructicons to use recycled waste as energon. It's injected (rather than drank) and apparently isn't pleasant. (Which makes sense – drinking recycled pee is a thing in space travel, but it's not something I'd want to dwell on.)

We also get another reminder that when Cybertronians are underfueled, they don't run very efficiently: they're slower, not as responsive, not as strong, and maybe a bit less creative. (I imagine it would be like having brain fog.)

Now, the Insecticons! They were forged with an extremely useful capability: they can turn raw materials into pure energon, a kind more powerful than anything else ever created. (So like in other continuities, we're seeing that there are different grades or types of energon.) After the Insecticons were forged, they were scientific curiosities, but then were turned loose as a roving clean-up crew. They would clean up unusable ground by eating everything there, and turn it into rich energon.

Then the war happened, and there was more stuff than ever to clean up – millions of dead. I LOVE IT. They ate the dead, converting it into energon... And that's why they grew to be feared.

I absolutely love this bit of their story. It's macabre, a little disgusting, but perfectly understandable.

Final Thoughts

Now we've got both players in this story on the field. I kind of wish the story had been restructured to drop some of these info-bombs in smaller chunks, with more action/plot in between, but that might just be a nitpick. I still enjoyed this issue, and I was interested to see where they took it next.

👍

#idw2 review #idw2 spoilers #transformers #maccadam #world building stuff

6 notes · View notes

utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years

Text

Already Gone (SOA x Mayans Crossover)

A/N: Deep diving back into my roots. SOA will forever be near and dear to my angsty heart! This chapter primarily focuses on Y/N and Jax but following parts will include my Mayans. As always, feedback is GOLD!

SIDE NOTE: Huge shout out to @creativepromptsforwriting for motivating this story into fruition. Your blog is beyond inspirational!

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or you’d like to be tagged; please let me know!

MASTERLIST

Jax Teller x Reader (then we’re in Mayans territory :D )

Word Count: 2375k

Warnings: language, mention of biker gangs, slight female degradation, angst, sprinkles of heartbreak.

*********************************

Daylight vanished drifting into another starless evening. Nightfall succumbed to a starless evening. Y/N wished to be anywhere else in the universe than where she currently found herself; the Sons clubhouse. In childish hopes, she stilled all movement adjusting her jacket nervously fidgeting with the hem. The door swung back under her touch; light reflected back harshly in the demurely lit bar. Smoke descended throughout the congested area; clouds of hazy fog engulfed her lungs. Here goes nothin.

The air wreaked of putrid obscenity and cheap tequila. First and foremost, Y/N met Chucky’s charismatic stare. She sent him an anxious grin impulsively pleading for uneasiness in her stomach to subdue. The one-handed man remained surrounded by countless liquor bottles engrossed in order after order shifting gears from her.

Every man and member leeched on to the closest thing in a short skirt, tits overflowing from too small blouses, and topped off in four-inch platforms. Any girl within proximity of the Sons all had a similar motto; barely-there skirts and perky tits. There was no doubt sex was the main attraction tonight.

And to this very day, she played nice with them so long as they abided by one rule in particular; Jax was untouchable. She was their queen bee. Glancing down at her outfit; she preferred a more comfortable approach. She paired tonight’s look with her favorite pair of worn out high-waisted jeans styled with a Ramones crop top finalized with suede black booties. Her body was a sacred temple and only those granted permission were able to worship her. She made sure of that. Loud conversations vibrated from table to table, voices lost in the chaos increasing with every passing decibel.

Y/n scanned the room peering for one particular member; Jax fucking Teller. In childhood, Mr. President and Y/N friendship blossomed as close friends before ultimately admitting their feelings five years ago. The wildest five years of her entire life. Her thoughts quickly darkened, if only someone would’ve warned her those three years ago. If only Y/N hadn’t welcomed him with welcoming, open arms. But sometimes life’s a bitch, and the hardest way is merely the only route.

Her clandestine orbs voraciously whipped back and forth jumping from person to person. In her search, Opie sat alone at a corner table secluding himself willing her his direction. The pitiful look in his eyes was enough to make her stomach flip. Long ago, she grew weary with the amount of messes that befell on Opie. Their relationship bordered along best friend status, always seeking the other out. Ranging from moments of clarity to cruelty, Opie Winston never once betrayed the trust instilled upon him.

She already knew what bullshit lay ahead; it was his shitty way of apologizing for Jax’s past, present, and future fuck-ups. In the back of her mind, Y/N convinced herself she was different to him, that she was his one. But nowadays, doubt replaced confidence as Y/N drifted farther out of reach/touch. Her feet clumped heavy against the wood suddenly weighing her down. Making her way through the crowd, Y/N plopped herself closest to Op.

Her palms dampened in sweat wishing the fall beneath her to open up swallowing her whole. “So, this was the big meeting Jax was in a rush to get to?”

His eyes bounced from side to side searching for any way out of the conversation; “Shit Y/N...”

Y/N collapsed next to the burly man nuzzling deeper into the warmth of his neck, quietly leaning in closer so he could hear her clearly; “I know it’s not your fault, Op. I just wish he respected me enough to be honest with me. I can’t keep living like this anymore, he’s breaking me… I’m sure going to miss you, big bear.”

Y/N waited patiently for the wheels to turn in his brain. “You’re a smart man. Connect the clues, buddy.”

“You—You’re leaving?”

Her heart plummeted into uncharted territory; her head bobbled too quickly, too excitedly almost as if she’d been rifling for a way out of this life, out of their lives. She glanced sadly at him, really appreciating his handsome appearance while trying to memorize the man who’d kept her insanely calm since middle school. There was no hiding the bemudding frown etching her lips. His lengthy, luscious hair and accompanying brawny beard was enough to make any woman swoon.

If only she’d chosen him to protect her heart but what ifs were a dangerous path to question. Add in his admirable qualities and he was the gleaming winner. The man Y/N should’ve pursued but she was a fool and fell for the Teller trick over and over again. Long ago, Opie came to the conclusion that Y/N would never leave his side, not even if the devil bribed her himself. Her departure was agitating, possibly selfish, but absolutely necessary. Jax breaks everything he touches…eventually.

“Some bitch is grinding against his junk and you expect me to be alright with it? Boy’s got another thing comin if he thinks I’ll always be waitin to greet him at the front door.”

Words jumbled on the tip of her palate; ‘I just wanted to talk to you first before shit goes down. I’m so thankful for you, always know that.”

Op stared down at his dirty boots unable to meet her dejected orbs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You deserve more than his half ass shit. Ya know, I was afraid Jax had sucked out all that rad awesomeness you possessed before you decided to get together. He’s my brother, don’t get me wrong. But, he’s kinda the biggest dick on the planet and not the good kind. I’m proud you found your backbone. Here I thought you’d softened up…”

“Haha, glad to see you think so highly of me still! Please take care of yourself.”

“I’m a phone call away if you need me. Any time, any day, I’ll be there.”

His arms draped around her exposed waist rubbing soothing circles on her lower back. Her chin rested atop of broad shoulder before she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace.

A few tables over Jax’s arms seductively draped his arm around the croweater’s exposed waist. Every few minutes the chick gyrated submissively against him cock arousal his member. Jax closed his eyes inhaling a puff of his cigarette thinking of the girl waiting at home for him. All he had to do was find the courage to get up and leave. But this was the life, his life and Y/N understood him better than anyone else. So, he accepted the Yaeger bomb from girl with the rose tattoo and smiled widely. Fuck ‘em. He leaned incredibly closer connecting his lips to her plump ones.

Her sultry tone echoed into his ear; “Mmm, you taste like sin…”

Jax chuckled in retort; Darling, you ain’t even taste the best part yet…”

Disgust and fury ran uncontrollable through her body radiating to an explosively dangerous level. She quietly whispered; “This fucking asshole…” as she compelled herself to clear the lump in her throat noisily.

Her annoyance was beginning to peak into seething eruption; “You’ve got some damn nerve, Jax. That I can give ya. Such a lady’s man.”

A shudder ran through his vertebrates forcing the hairs along his neck to stand painfully on the edge. Her words were impudently brash bouncing off her rosy plump lips.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn ya, doll.” His arched brow sprouted newfound madness as Y/N daydreamed of punching that shit grin off his idiotic face. But his eyes told another tale, his sapphire irises brimmed with tacit concern and uncertainty.

Her life with Jax was a never-ending roller coaster. Exhilaration awaited them at every corner until it didn’t. No matter how many wrongdoings Jax committed, Y/N dutifully stayed by his side never daring to question his authority. Gemma taught her of loyalty, of the importance of family eternally sticking together, and to never turn her back when the going gets rough because it was bound to cross a line if you survived long enough. The Sons checked their moral ambiguities when they patched in, sacrificing their soul for the benefit of the club.

So, Y/N’s skin thickened as time meandered on, and as Jax shacked up with Wendy, and again every time she watched some slut leave his dorm every night. Honestly, she should thank Jax for her turned her into the dominantly powerful woman she became that awakened Jax’s feelings. But now, now he was the reason her heart was breaking.

She cleared her throat attempting to draw his attention; “Wow, seems like you’ve got your hands full tonight. Didn’t realize I needed to make a reservation.” Her eyes penetrated his, he looked like a deer in blinding headlights at the recognizable voice in front of him.

The girl seating in Jax’s lap had the audacity to open her bright fuchsia painted lips; “He’s busy tonight. Shoo, buh-bye.” Motioning her hand in Y/N’s direction.

Y/N eyed the broad up judging her every spectacle of the way. She bit the corner of her lips in attempt to register what her mind couldn’t.

She clicked on tongue in vast disapproval at the idiot before her; “Listen here, bitch. I’m Y/N, his old lady and you’re going to get the fuck up and listen to the words leaving my mouth and find another lap to occupy, NOW.” She put on her fakest high pitched voice just to prove a point; “Got it? Good, now if you make me repeat myself, I’d love the opportunity to fuck up that plastic face of yours. Now, Shoo.”

The random girl gulped unwillingly to challenge the alpha female and meekly wagged her head in agreeance. Jax noticed the slight tremor as she removed herself from his grasp trudging in defeat. He sighed in extreme exasperation; “Congratulations, you’ve got my attention…now talk.”

“Ugh, I’m seriously starting to question what the hell I’ve been doing with an asshat like you for so long? Seriously Jax, what the shit?”

He remained irrationally irritated Y/N had chosen a party to air out their dirty laundry. She was undermining him in front of his brothers, nobody challenged him. This was yet another lesson he’d teach Y/N the difficult way.

“You’re makin a scene! Let’s talk this outside?” He seized her arm dragging Y/N behind him. Her heels dug into the surface fighting his weight with her own. Jax glanced back at her stubbornness on display and/snickered sinfully.

“No, I’m fine where I am.”

Jax invaded her space, his breath jostled against her peach fuzz. He hovered dangerously close to her, fury seeping from his freckled skin.

“Ah, the mighty heroine here to save herself. Classic, real good Y/N.”

Y/N huffed venting her building frustrations; “I can’t do this anymore, Jax.” Her voice wavered in confidence before erupted in sadness; I fucking won’t do this anymore.”

Jax Teller rolled his eyes before sighing annoyingly loud; “You always say this shit, Y/N. And you always keep comin back for more. This is a dance we memorized baby girl, our dance.”

Her fists ignited into internal rage; her breathing skyrocketed to unbridled anger. Typical biker to neglect the actual words leaving a woman’s mouth in this hell hole.

“So, I guess that makes me the fool and you the asshole, hmm? Yes, I might be a fucking glutton for punishment but at least I have a heart, some decency of a moral compass to abide by. But you, Jax? You would burn the world simply because you were bored. And right now, this is me telling you I quit. Go fuck one of your many other mindless wannabes. I bet they’re beggin for Jax Teller’s cock as we speak.”

His cockiness was beginning to push her past the point of no return as he growled his words from his venomous mouth; “I don’t doubt that darling. The question of the hour is if you’re really sure you wanna throw in the towel?”

Y/N’s head whipped around fast; her eyes blazed in pure hatred; “The biggest mistake you ever made was letting love come into your life. You fuck up everything you touch. Have a nice life, Teller.”

Heavy footsteps clonked against the wooden slats swiftly rushing towards the front doors of the clubhouse. She approached the entrance grazing her knuckles along the worn material. In the upper right-hand corner, the smallest of carvings adorned the walk away years later; their initials carved for the world to bear witness. Digging through her purse, Y/N located her car keys and stood on her tiptoes scratching at the etchings now nothing but mere wood indentions. Fuck happy endings. No wait, fuck this ending.

Finally, anger breached its imminent tipping point as his temper imploded. His arms gripped hers excruciatingly firm slamming her against the wall aligned of mugshots. A frame or two randomly dropped closer by. Jax was the Kurt Cobain to her Courtney Love; both destined and simultaneously cursed. Glass pierced the ground piece by piece. Her eyes fully dilated as fear crept into her smug demeanor. Her breath came out in short, timid, huffs as quaked in anxiousness.

“You’re my girl, Y/N. Don’t do this shit. You know I love you.”

Confliction cowered in her bones. His ragged and pathetic tone drew her in wrapping itself snugly around her. She knew that if she would have heard these words any other day, she would have declared it the best day of her life and would have started to call everyone to let them know that he finally said the words! But today was not that day and all she wanted to do right now was putting her hands over her ears and stop listening.

She spewed her virulent words once and for all; “You’re not the person I thought you were.”

Her body went rigid in his arms as sorrow clung to her like forgotten hope. She was losing him, sacrificing a piece of her heart for her own freedom. She loathed the man Jax evolved into but somewhere under his façade lived the gentle poet who stole her soul. Jax snickered obnoxiously before a murderous grin took ahold; “No. I’m just not the person you wanted me to be.”

Tags: @twistnet @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @breanime @whyisgmora @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife

214 notes · View notes

velvetsehun · 4 years

Text

Born to Die| OSH| 05

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 17.6k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else?

A/N: Enjoy my loves, be sure to leave feedback - this is going to be a long one so get a snack and a drink ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of violence, readers discretion is advised.

Masterlist| Next

With eyes glazed over in interest, he watched from a small skylight – the figure of the policeman tending to you while you struggled to keep yourself upright in your chair, he was interested in what had just gone on in front of him. The flicker of blue and red light raiding up onto his curious face.

“Very interesting indeed…” His eyes flicked to where he’d seen the cars leave not too long ago, a gloved finger tapping his lip thoughtfully before his narrowed eyes flickered back down to the lady of the hour, “But, who are you dear…?” He’d never seen a life spared like that before.

There was a meaning behind that, meaning behind the last touch and whisper – he knew as well as anyone, lackies or dead weight didn’t get spared.

“Huh...” He tapped over the glass that looked down at you, his index finger pointed directly as you, your figure now slouched in the arms of the officer who was rushing out to the ambulance outside, a small smirk on crept onto his face, “Well, I’ll have to be seeing you soon, won't I?” He spoke to no one.

“Come on sweetheart, breathe with me, you’re okay now.”

You weren’t sure if you just lost a stream of consciousness after “officer Jeon” removed the bag from your head or if your soul finally left your body, but what you could remember was the feeling of warm hard reaching around you to cut your zip ties and the constant stream of reassurance burrowing in your ear.

“Hey…” You felt a light slap to your cheek, your groggy eyes fighting to stay awake as a small groan passed your lips, “Come on, I’m going to lift you up okay?” You grumbled in response, your head lulling forward to rest on his warm shoulder – he was a safety blanket for the moment.

“Is the ambulance outside?” Officer Jeon huffed out, “She needs oxygen quickly.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Someone asked, he got a chipped response.

“She’s gone into shock.” Officer Jeon snapped as you felt yourself being pulled up into his arms, your head spinning for a second – your eyes peaked open for a second to get a proper look at the officer.

“Huh…” You thought, “He’s kinda cute.” He had a youthful essence to his face, probably a little younger than yourself, but the way his jaw tensed made him look a bit older – sensing you looking at him, he glanced down at you with a slight smile.

“Don’t worry,” He spoke kindly, “You’re almost there.”

You could tell he takes his job seriously; he was tentative to you – not like Chanyeol was, he was more of a friendly touch, this officer spoke and acted like the perfect version of his job description, it was refreshing. Just as he said, you were almost there, before you knew it you were being placed to sit on the edge of an ambulance – your legs dangling out the back as an unknown woman make quick work of placing an oxygen mask over your dry mouth.

“Deep breath now, sweetheart” The female EMT spoke to you while fiddling with the oxygen tank, just as she did – it started to flow through the mask around your nose and mouth, the cold oxygen cooling your burning lungs.

Officer Jeon had no shame in watching you gasping into the mask, clearly enjoying the fresh air as your eyes flickered around the area you were in – a sense of unknowing seeping into your irises. You weren’t stupid, he was trying to work you out, you tried to play the part of someone who knew absolutely nothing, shivering into the foil blanket as it wrapped around you, Sehun’s previous words ringing very clearly in your ears.

“How do you know as once I get out that I won’t just go to the police?” You snapped, but you drew back when Sehun smiled.

“You’re dumb,” He began sounding nice before his voice dropped to a deadly tone, “But as you said, you enjoy living, you think about going to the police and I’ll make sure that seizes to be an option.” His tone was dark, so much so that your jaw dropped in astonishment, words dying on your throat.

Sehun mentioned that the police were on the way back when he was pressuring Gwan to give him an answer – but after threatening you to keep quiet on your end, you couldn’t believe for a second that he trusted you not to say anything, it was strange.

“You only have a few minutes, Gwan.” Sehun taunted him, “I’ve got some friends on the way who wouldn’t like how this could go down.”

“Friends…” You thought, your eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon, “He isn’t…Is he?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, still breathing deeply into the oxygen mask.

The area surrounding the warehouse was a mess, clearly as it was in the middle of nowhere – but the police were all over it like it was a crime scene, dogs and men barking orders filling the frost-bitten night. There was no sign that Sehun and his men were even here in the first place or Exodus as you should probably call them. The tire tracks from the car you were hauled out of were completely gone, the ground untouched – it was almost like you were the only one that was were here in the first place. It was spooky how quickly the men worked but you remembered that this was their job profession, even if it was their profession to nearly kill you three times in the space of a couple of days.

“Miss.” A voice snapped you out of your thought, eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon who was now joined with a slightly older man, “How are you feeling?” Sighing slightly, you removed the mask.

“I’ve been better.” You wheezed slightly, looking at the men, “But that’s not really what you want to ask me, huh?” Officer Jeon looked taken back.

“Any questioning will be done at the station, Miss,” Jeon smiled to cover the shock, “Merely just asking how you are.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but you kept a neutral face.

It was the moral question bouncing around your head that was wracking your brain more than this cop was; do you sell Sehun out? Is that even an option? Or is there someone waiting to kill you as soon as you open your mouth? It was a difficult situation, but you flicked your eyes back to the cop, to see if maybe you could suss him out instead.

“Please,” You smiled briefly, looking at the young cop, “Call me Y/N…” The cop smiled slightly, but the virtue in his eyes told you everything.

Placing the mask down, you took breaths of actual air – watching it crystallise into a hazy fog in the freezing atmosphere, you were warm now despite the bit of the night so with a sigh you looked at the officers again.

“Officer Jeon, I’d like to go to the station now if that’s alright…”

To some, a few pins on a map meant various locations in a city in which a person, and whoever they’re deciding to go, with could visit; but to Sehun the few pins merely told him where the Oh Family empire has sewn their roots around the city. It was a fickle thing really, but a small pin shoved into a tacky map showed some resemblance of his power, even if it was a picture of his crumbling power.

“How long are you going to stare at that thing?” Baekhyun sighed, tapping his fingers on the arm of the velour chair that he’d very much made a home in, Sehun’s office was weirdly comfortable for a man of that stature, “It’s still the same as when you put it up an hour ago” He hummed before he grunted, someone had clearly tried to shut him up again.

“I’m going to stare at it, Baekhyun,” Sehun began, his body lent casually against the back of the couch so he could look at the map in question, “Until one of my idiot brothers give me a reason to no longer stare at it.” Even if he wasn’t facing the brother he was talking to, he could feel his huffiness from where he was currently perched, it was just the two of them in the room.

“Well you’re in a delightful mood today,” Baekhyun scoffed back, “You worry too much, Sehun – sit down already.” That was enough to make Sehun gaze over his shoulder.

“And you worry too little,” Sehun retorted to the older man, “You forget the circumstances we’re in.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Like you’d let me forget,” He scoffed slightly, “You forget who spent the better part of all day yesterday running around the city for you.” He kicked his legs up on Sehun’s coffee table with a wince, his body was tired as it is.

“I call that doing your job,” Sehun hummed, turning around to stare at the man with a raised brow, his hands leaning on the back of the couch, “Or is the only thing you like doing is giving your witty comments?”

“So, you admit I’m witty?” Baekhyun smirked, much to Sehun’s dismay.

“Just get your feet off my coffee table,” His boss rolled his eyes, glancing at the map again before walking to his desk – Sehun, like the rest of his men, was tired, his body practically melting into his chair, stress had his arms around him.

Baekhyun didn’t make an attempt to move his feet, but he did glance at the map – his brows furrowed as he stared at their turf with interest, it was a lot larger than what Sehun’s father had originally acquired in his time, it was impressive what his son had managed to do in the few years he’d been boss but even now; Baekhyun could tell that the effects of owning an empire were taking a toll on his younger brother, and that had his stress melting off his face as he sighed.

“He’d be proud of you, you know?” Baekhyun spoke plainly, it wasn’t a snide remark for once, but it still has Sehun tensing – the younger man flicking his eyes to look at him. It was rare you got to see much happening in Sehun’s eyes, but Baekhyun had known him long enough to see the pain his irises carried.

“Very proud in fact” The older brother hummed, “Actually, we’re all proud of you…” Sehun sighed at that.

“He wouldn’t be proud of me,” Sehun had a slight edge to his voice as his eyes spaced out slightly.

“What makes you think that?” Baekhyun questioned, folding his arms over his chest slightly, he didn’t want to press the young man, but he was curious.

“Because I’m not him,” Sehun tutted softly, “All this power and I can’t control what’s under my nose, my father had eyes everywhere – I seem to only have eyes when they chose to open.” Baekhyun sighed at that.

“Your father was also an incessantly greedy man,” Baekhyun cut in, biting his lip as his eyes flicked to his younger brother – he wasn’t his boss at that moment, “He had eyes everywhere because he was paranoid, he didn’t trust his syndicates as far as he could throw them, but regardless he always wanted more” Baekhyun didn’t give Sehun a chance to speak.

“Everything you have, you have it because you had the skills to get them and keep them,” Baekhyun took his feet off the table and sat straighter, “Your father? He lacked the communication; he was shoot first—" Baekhyun was cut off.

“Ask questions second.” Sehun finished.

“Exactly,” Baekhyun hummed, “Your father got most of his turf with war and blood, but you? You kept them around because you know how to speak to people” Baekhyun could see something flicker in Sehun’s eyes but he still kept quiet.

“So no, Sehun,” Baekhyun started with a deep sigh, “You’re nothing like your father, but be thankful you’re not, because otherwise? You’d face the same fate as him.”

It was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on Sehun’s face, it wasn’t his usual smirk, it was an actual smile – something hard to find on the man’s face.

“Maybe I should promote you to motivational speaker,” Sehun chuckled, a humility to him that he reserved only for his brothers, “Motivation speaker and loudmouth.” Baekhyun laughed at that, a smile bleeding onto his face but he softened slightly before he continued to speak.

“As much as I hate to be the one to say it,” Baekhyun chuckled softly, “You’re too hard on yourself, it's ageing you.” He smirked, Sehun rolled his eyes.

“I am still perfectly young,” Sehun scoffed.

“Really?” Baekhyun teased, “You’re 26 and get I think I can see grey hairs from here?” Baekhyun joked, but Sehun looked at him before he glanced at the paperweight on his desk.

“You want another one to the face?” Sehun smirked at him, to which Baekhyun raised his hands in surrender, “Thought so...”

Although Sehun spent most of his time now with his underboss, Junmyeon, most of his childhood was spent with Baekhyun – the two families were thick as thieves for most of their lives, and the two had fond memories together. Baekhyun could still vaguely remember a tiny Sehun running around the gardens of the Byun estate while their mothers looked fondly at them – something that was very well in the past now, but it was memories like those that strengthened the bonds between them. Sehun was there most of his life, even in the moments he didn’t want to remember, he was there more than his biological brother was – so it made moments like this less awkward than it would if anyone else was to ask them. Sehun respected and loved all his brothers, he was their boss after all, but it was key bonds he knew that brought him comfort. Their world was a tricky one, and it was moments like Junmyeon and Minseok entering the room with a huff that reminded them off the task at hand.

“I’ll tell you something,” Minseok scoffed slightly, throwing himself down on the couch, “Some of these families are the epitome of egotism” He rolled his eyes.

Minseok was one of the few that was from a low family in the syndicate – they didn’t come from wealth or any stature, they were lackies in every sense of the word. Baekhyun could vaguely remember that his father owed one of their families a lot of money a long time ago.

“I see the meeting with the Lee’s on the westside went well?” Sehun hummed with a slight smirk.

“Well?” Minseok jeered, “Jaeyoon remains a bigot, refused to speak to me, it was from the immediate Oh family or silence.” Sehun chuckled slightly at that.

“I assume you got what I asked?” Sehun let a small puff of air that could register as a laugh pass from his lips, “Or do I need to send someone else.” Minseok was dramatically draped on the chair with his hand covering his eyes.

“It took about an hour of bargaining but Lee said none of the casinos have had any suspicious activity, all the chips are accounted for and there’s been no silver-haired man and his friend lurking around,” Minseok sighed.

“But…?” Sehun raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to it.

“He and the 3 other families you’ve had me talk to are a bit suspicious,” Minseok looked at the man, “And I assume Jongdae was in the same boat as me” Sehun tapped at his desk looking at Junmyeon, taking in the information.

“I assume your little cop friends have been informed of tomorrow?” Sehun decided to continue.

“Commissioner Jung has been tipped off, yes,” Junmyeon told him, “A team and an ambulance will be dispatched to the scene as soon as we leave, but we have to be quick – otherwise we will be in trouble” He raised his eyebrows at his boss.

“You still haven’t told me exactly what it is you’re planning,” Jun tutted slightly, clearly a bit disgruntled being out of the loop.

“Don’t live for the thrill, Jun?” Sehun drawled while leaning back in his chair, he was met with a blank face, “Trust me, please.”

Sehun looked like he was about to spill the beans but Baekhyun felt a laugh bubble up in his throat as Kyungsoo slammed the door open like he always did, a mirror of annoyance passing over Junmyeon’s face as he did at the disturbance.

“The girl’s story checks out,” Kyungsoo wasted no time, making himself known in the room – a rather tame looking Chanyeol trailing in behind him, “Footage from Oasis’ cameras were tampered with and wiped clean at the same time every couple weeks” The two sat down at one of the bigger couches in the room.

“I expected as much, looks like it’ll make tomorrow slightly easier” Sehun sighed, “You think it’s possible to find the footage?” Sehun quizzed slightly, much to Kyungsoo’s sigh.

“I mean, I could try but I’d need the physical hard drive” He tutted slightly, “It's fine and well to hack into the camera’s but if it’s been wiped I’d need the physical unit that held the footage” Sehun made a noise at that.

“And where is that hard drive?” He asked, looking at the two of them, but it was Chanyeol who spoke this time.

“Police storage,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, “They wiped the bar completely clean, one of the guys checked it out yesterday” Sehun’s eyes fluttered closed for a second out of annoyance before he looked at Jun.

“So, they have whatever was leftover of our stock from the bar?” Sehun felt his coolness frying at the seams.

“Not exactly, no” Baekhyun cut in, looking a tad sheepish – the conversation turned to him as he continued, “I might have worked a little out of pocket...”

“Out of pocket?” Sehun’s brows raised.

“After Junmyeon and Chanyeol rummaged the bar for the girl's things, I might have had some of the men slip in and get the rest of the stock…” Baekhyun grinned slightly, clearly proud of himself, and for once Sehun felt a small weight off his chest – a laugh passing his lips.

“Normally I’d reprimand you, but it seems you used your head for once,” Sehun smirked, “But you didn’t think to tell anyone?” To which Baekhyun pointed at his fading black eye.

“Slipped my mind,” He chortled, everyone in the room laughed at that for a second before another silence washed over it.

“We still need the hard drive,” Sehun tutted softly, “It’s not exactly the main priority right now, but I’d love to see the full footage – and put a face to our faceless men.”

“Speak of which, where is—” Sehun was cut off which someone else coming in the room, “Jongin…” He continued looking at the man who was clothed rather plainly for once, but that was part of his job.

“Someone’s got a flair for the dramatics,” Minseok muffled a laugh, the rest of the men looking slightly amused, but their boss remained a bit more passive.

“Find out anything useful?” Baekhyun smirked softly.

Out of all the men – Jongin had the best job, he often got to go out and undercover as someone else for a few days to get information, whereas people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol dealt with a lot of the “heavy lifting” or the jobs that no one else had the stomach for. Everyone played their part in the group, but some of them still had better jobs than others – people like Jongin didn’t get their hands dirty in the same way that people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol did, and it was very rare that you’d see Minseok, Jun, Kyungsoo or Jongdae get their hands dirty.

“Well,” Jongin looked a bit stressed while he looked at his brothers, “I went back to the area surrounding the bar like you asked.” Sehun looked at him expectantly, Jongin had been gone for a night and day at this point – he expected something.

“And while I was in a café not too far from the bar I heard some people talking,” Jongin sat down on the arm of one of the couches, looking directly at his boss, “It was mostly buzzing around what happened the other night, but I also picked up on some college kids talking.”

“Does the club ‘Teardrop’ mean anything to you?” Jongin asked, to which Sehun looked a bit curious.

“Can’t say I know the owner, but it’s not one of ours” Sehun looked at Jongin curiously.

“Well, I tried to follow any leads I had in the area who might have been dealt anything by Byung-Chul, and that came up cold,” Jongin explained, as everyone looked at him confused as to where he was going, “But these kids were talking about a new party drug that was making the rounds at that club, what exactly were you sending to Oasis again?” Sehun raised an eyebrow thinking for a second.

“A strong strain of cocaine…” Sehun muttered slightly, the cogs turning in his head. “It was being held there until it could be sold off to some of our more prestige clients.”

“Well,” Jongin started, “It was the only lead I had, so I decided to go to Teardrop last night and check it out for myself.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clear baggy, a powdery substance clinging to the plastic.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sehun held his hand out to Jongin – the latter standing to drop the baggy in his hands and Sehun wasted no time opening it once he had it. The familiar sweet floral scent wafted from the bag, it was stronger than it usually was; the main reason they were selling it, but the metallic smell that usually cut through wasn’t there, something was muffling the smell.

“Is this ours?” Sehun frowned, dropping the baggy on his desk.

“I picked that up in Teardrop last night,” Jongin said, “I managed to snag it off some girl, but everyone there was on it – there wasn’t a soul that was sober in the place.” Sehun passed the baggy to Junmyeon who had stood to investigate.

“It smells like ours but also not…” Junmyeon glared at the substance slightly, “Tampered?” He looked at Jongin.

“Possibly,” Jongin shrugged.

“But where did she get it?” Baekhyun asked, clearly confused, to which Jongin looked a bit annoyed.

“A silver-haired man…” He frowned, “I tried to get her to tell me anything about him, but she was barely coherent, everyone was gone.”

“Bartenders?” Sehun tilted his head, curious.

“Silent,” Jongin confirmed, “I asked around, no one could tell me anything, i searched the place for about an hour and nothing - he wasn’t there.”

“Security cameras?” Sehun clenched his jaw slightly.

“Nothing,” Jongin sighed, “It’s like he doesn’t exist…”

“He does exist,” Baekhyun hummed, “It’s just he’s keeping himself very well hidden…”

“More like hidden to the right people,” Chanyeol scoffed, looking deeper in thought than the rest of them, something the Baekhyun raised his eyebrow at.

“Think any harder, Yeol and you’ll burst a blood vessel,” Baekhyun said, toying with the man – to which the man in question merely just rolled his eyes.

“I just think it’s a bit funny that’s all…” Chanyeol grumbled.

“You think what’s funny?” Junmyeon asked, slightly confused.

“The whole thing,” Chanyeol puffed out, “We have to random men able to just walk into a bar, convince our dealer to give them our supply and they distribute it under our noses in one of the few clubs we don’t own.” He gestured to the map, annoyed.

Looking at the map, Sehun got back off his chair to walk to it – twirling a red pin in his nimble fingers as he stared the piece of paper down, his brothers staring at him as he placed the contrasting pin in the centre of the city. There was a wave of silence as their boss collected his thoughts.

“Chanyeol’s right,” Sehun affirmed, “It’s very weird that they’ve managed to pull it off, and pull it off without anyone flagging any up – which makes me think that whoever they are, they aren’t working solely by themselves…” He hummed, tapping the new mark on the map.

“But who are they working with?” Junmyeon asked, “One of ours?”

“That’s the million dollar question” Sehun continued. “How much stock exactly did they take?”

“Jongdae said enough every month that it wouldn’t seem suspicious to whoever it was originally being dealt out too,” Minseok said to him, “It makes sense, we’d notice large quantities going missing, and from the looks of it, they’re using what they did take and thinning down to make it last longer, the girl did say that they stopped turning up.” Minseok looked like he was about to continue but the beeping of his phone cut him off,

“Speak of the devil, he’s just finished doing intake with Yixing at the docks…” Minseok hummed.

“Verdict?” Junmyeon asked, brows furrowed.

“Seems like since yesterday, a few things have gone missing…” Minseok frowned, “Dong-Yul says he doesn’t know anything about it but a few snipers are missing from a shipment that was checked this morning, that and a couple of handguns; along with a few silencers, no ammo though…” Sehun chuckled a bit darkly at that.

“That sounds like a threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Sehun smirked, but it lacked the humour to it, “Sounds like our friends are planning a little heist.” He clocked his head slightly, turning to his brothers.

“Or a take-out job,” Baekhyun hummed, “Silencers...Can’t say we use them unless we want to get someone in public, even at that...”

“It sounds like war to me,” Chanyeol frowned slightly, cutting him off.

“It certainly sounds like the beginning of one,” Baekhyun affirmed, Sehun merely kept smirking; it was a dark smirk that they didn’t see cross his face very often.

“Whatever it is,” Sehun started, crossing his arms over his chest; his suit pulling taught over his arms, “They’ve made the first step, the drugs I could write off, there’s plenty to go around – the firearms though from our stash? That’s fighting talk.” Sehun tutted like you would scold a child.

“Get Yixing and Jongdae back to the house,” Sehun panned to looked at Minseok, who nodded – tapping quickly on his phone.

“Jongin, get dressed – you’re going back to Teardrop tonight, take Baekhyun with you and scope out the place, I want eyes everywhere...” Baekhyun smirked at that, looking at Jongin with amusement. “And stay on task.” That one was aimed at the older brother.

“Our syndicates are getting suspicious,” Sehun tsk’ed softly, walking around the couches to look out his office window, “News spreads fast, and it's already spreading now, they won’t just believe in random stock takes any longer.” Sehun was in his full boss mode, something he’d seen his father do hundreds of times.

“What are we going to do about that?” Kyungsoo asked, frowning slightly as the brothers all looked at each other.

“In still some faith in our family,” Sehun spoke plainly like everyone was just supposed to understand.

“Faith…?” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow, which had Sehun chuckling slightly.

“It seems like no one else doing their job around here, so I suggest we hold a little party soon, have a few… meaningful conversations” Sehun drawled, “And if our little friends decide they want to come… Well, more the merrier.” Sehun could feel the eyes on his back but he had still yet to turn around.

“You want to make yourself the target?” Junmyeon sounded a bit shocked.

“No, you misunderstand me,” Sehun cut in, “I don’t intend to make myself the target, brother…” Looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

“I am already the target.”

Officer Jeon was very quick to accept your wishes of going back to the station, a fire burning in his eyes at the thought of getting information - it unnerved you slightly, but at this point, everything was unnerving you. Junmyeon promised that the police would be taken care of, you vividly remembered that, but you were still being pinned as one of the causes of the shoot-out at Oasis, so really? What could they take care of? It didn’t help that they shoved you into the back of a police cruiser as well, your tired eyes glaring at the back of Officer Jeon’s head, and the other man who you learned was the Commissioner Jung was driving the vehicle but what you found odd was his eyes kept meeting yours – an understanding in his eyes that meant no good to you.

They were treating you as you suspected they would; like a suspect in a crime, but the only thing they hadn’t done was outwardly cuff you yet – but you guessed that had something to do with the fact they found you strapped to a rickety chair. Touching the marks on your wrist you felt seething hate for Sehun and the fact he left you like that, your lungs still feeling the burn of having your breath taken away by the plastic bag – it was a traumatic affair, but still, you couldn’t knock the fact that he apologised before he put you to harm’s way. Sehun didn’t strike you as a remorseful man, you might even go as far to say that sorry isn’t a word that left his mouth at all, but he still apologised – and that didn’t settle well with you. He did also shoot a loaded gun right next to your head after threatening to do that before, but still, his sorry sank your stomach to the oceans floor. Frankly, you were beyond exhausted, but you knew your night was far from over, especially with the police station quickly approaching – you’d only been here once when you were in university after having to pick up a friend who got too much on a night out, but aside from that, you were pretty clean slate.

However, acidity was brewing in your stomach from the car stopping, but it was being cut with the intensity of the situation – the two officers up front were silent as the door next to you opened; a man you didn’t know reaching in and hoisting you out like a criminal. This was the second time tonight that you were being manhandled but like before, it was safer to keep completely quiet. The man was a bit rough with you to the point that you stumbled when you got out the car, Officer Jeon’s voice snapped slightly at that.

“Have a bit of respect, Officer.” You could hear him behind you as the officer that was holding you kept walking – looking up at him, you could see the annoyance on the man’s face.

It took you a second to realise that it was very early morning – probably about 3 am, the brief walk from the car to the inside of the station affirmed to you that everyone around you was hideously tired, the blue-clothed zombies staring at you with annoyed eyes. You had still yet to speak to anyone, but you were taking you silence as a good thing – these men weren’t exactly the most trusting of you.

The foyer to the police station looked like it hadn’t been touched by the modernity of the world yet, the dark wood and contrasting white everything else were an assault on the eyes, so much so that you found yourself squinting from the fluro lights that hung above your head – the man dragging you had yet to introduce himself but you supposed he didn’t need to, you hopefully would never see him again, he or the bratty officer who you were shoved in front of you get your prints taken. She was a snide older woman, her face leathered with the stress of the job and the attitude to match, she had your own had pinching in annoyance at her seemingly nasally voice.

“Left hand please.” She snapped slightly, readying the ink – and glaring at you when you didn’t move, “I said, left hand, please.”

“No.” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking between her and the other officer, “I wasn’t officially arrested, nor have I had my rights read to me, you’re not getting my prints.” You snapped slightly, irate with the fact you’d been through hell tonight and now that?

“Listen, kid,” The other officer snapped back at you, “Either you give her the prints willingly or I do it by force, the choice is yours.” There is was. The words; that phrase everyone kept repeating to you, the illusion of choice you kept being given.

“Don’t call me kid.” You hissed slightly feeling the heat rush to your face, “I have been kidnapped, I have been strapped to a chair and suffocated, and pulled around like a dog for days, either tell me why I need to get this done or let me go.” The vein in your eyelid was throbbing with the intensity of your facial expression.

The awareness that you were acting like a child was minor in the back of your head, but your irritation overruled any form of adult self you had left – you were tired and fed up and at this point? It was all Oh Sehun’s fault, the bastard had put you in this predicament, him and Chanyeol and whoever else he ran with.

The officer you had yelled at looked like he was about to retort when a hand rested on his arm, the familiar face of Officer Jeon coming into your peripheral, you didn’t break eye contact with the other officer, but Jeon spoke anyway.

“I’ll deal with this…” Jeon nodded at the other man, before turning to smile at you – but his smile was met with a blank stare. “Miss…” He cleared his throat nervously.

“Yes?” You were stony with the younger man, stony and far too tired to care at this point.

“Let’s take a few steps back huh?” He kept trying to smile at you, probably to try and ease your anger – but his face only built it up more. “We can talk about it; I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Tell me, Officer,” You gritted your teeth slightly, “Is it common practice to treat someone who hasn’t been arrest as a criminal?” He merely sighed at that.

“Listen, your case is… A special one,” He said lightly, “You’ve been gone for nearly 4 days after being witness to a shooting, we have to take precautions...” You could feel any life leave your eyes at that.

“Be honest with me officer,” You spoke with little to no emotion to it, “Do I seem dangerous to you?” You watched him frown at that.

“Well,” He stuttered slightly, “No ma’am, you don’t.” you smiled tensely at that.

“Then tell me again officer,” You said, “Why do I have to get this done?” You tilted your head at him. He sighed for a second before looking back at his superior, who looked slightly amused at the situation – Commissioner Jung didn’t seem like a man to beat around the bus.

“If I may interject,” The older man said, glancing at you, “I believe the young lady is right,” Your eyebrows raised at that, glancing between the two men. Officer Jeon looked conflicted at that though.

“This isn’t really necessary,” Jung leaned over and whispered to the younger officer, who at that looked a bit taken back.

“But–“ Jeon tried to reason with the older man, who for all that it was worth merely raised his hand to silence him.

Turning around to face you, Commissioner Jung had a smile on his leathery face – he was a much older man than officer Jeon, his age probably equivalent to his title, but for some reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to trust this man. There was something in his dark eyes that unnerved you slightly, it had been like that since the car ride to the stations, whoever this man was, he wasn’t completely truthful, and you had a feeling that Sehun had something to do with it.

His crinkled faced smiled at you, “Ma’am if you don’t mind, I’d like to take you to an interrogation room?” You merely nodded keeping eye contact with him.

You had a feeling it was going to go like this, as Jeon had said – you had been gone for nearly 4 days and clearly, they knew you were in the hands of a gang if the news report at the rest stop a few days ago was anything to go by. Interrogation, however, was not something you had prepared for – Junmyeon said they’d handle the police and Sehun said that if you told them anything, they’d off you quicker than you could blink, so what were you to do? Jung was the one who was walking you to the interrogation room, and honestly, you hoped to have gone in a cell for a few hours first, to think things over but they were wasting no time. It was freezing in the police station but as you were led deeper, it was like the temperature was purposefully getting lower – you swore you could see your breath in the air at one point. The hallways weren’t lit the best, but it was enough to set you in edge, especially when Jung pull up to a nondescript door.

“After you, Ma’am,” He smiled at you as he opened the door, it was completely fake, but you nodded slightly anyway, walking into the room with a grimace.

Having never been in a room like before, you somehow knew it was going to be like this; dimly lit with concrete brick walls painted in a dull two-tone white and murky green, it was a concrete haven. You shoes clicked slightly on the bare floors but the centrepiece of the room was the large steel table central to it all; it was a dark metal with equally dark metal seats, a loop that was intended to put handcuffs through and a tape player placed haphazardly off to the side. It was a table that was intended for 3 people to sit at but this time it was just you and commissioner Jung, the older man behind you nudging you to sit in the solo seat on the other side of the table.

“Sit,” He suggested as he took a seat across from where you were intended to sit down, glancing at the obvious mirrored window that always rested off to the side of rooms like this – you sat down, shivering slightly at the coldness of the seat. “Water?” He asked, gesturing to the jug that looked like it had been sitting there for hours.

“No, thank you…” Your voice was quiet as you tried to take in as much of the room as you could, the fluro light that hung above the table weirdly didn’t do much to light the room, but you guessed it was some sort of intimidation tactic.

Commissioner Jung had a file in front of him that he was rifling through as you glanced around, your eyes every so often flicking to the giant double-sided mirror that was the only feature of the drab room. Much like when you met with Sehun in his lovely dining room, you were sitting on your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible – a stark contrast to your attitude outside, but unlike the towering gang leader; you couldn’t banter with these people. It was almost deafening when Jung reached over to hit record on the tape player, an old-fashioned method but from then on out you knew your words needed to be careful – people were listening now.

“So,” Jung began, glancing at his papers before looking at you, “We’ll start easy… What’s the date today?” He spoke clearly, as you blinked slowly at him confused.

“October 17th…?” You frowned softly, trying to count the days since you’d been gone, he wrote something down at that.

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been gone for?” He asked again, keeping a scary amount of eye contact with you.

“Nearly 4 days,” You nodded, “I was taken on the 13th of October.” He hummed at that.

“Take, that’s right…” He hummed, “Okay, I’ll ask something else, Ma’am – how and why were you taken?” You tried not to let it show but you froze a bit at that.

Sehun had warned you clearly to keep your mouth shut or else, where you expected to just lie for him and his men under police questioning?

“I…” You stuttered slightly, “I don’t know why I was taken…” That much was the truth, although Sehun had given you an answer, you still weren’t quite sure why you were taken.

“But,” You continued, “On the night of the 13th, there was an incident at the bar, men – I don’t know who came in…” You breathed deeply for a second, trying to pick parts out of that night that you’d be able to tell them.

“They had guns,” You nodded, “I don’t know why they were there, it was sorta a blur after the first shot…” Commissioner Jung nodded, before picking up a piece of paper and placing down in front of you – it was a picture of a man you’d never seen before in your life.

“The security tapes show you getting ambushed in the loading bay, is that correct?” Your eye’s narrowed at the man, how looked at you with a glint in his eyes that told you to agree.

“No, that’s no correct and you know it.” You wanted to say.

“Yes.” You lied, “I was getting another keg from the loading bay…” He cut you off.

“When someone ambushed you?” He nodded, “I don’t know if you got a look at him, but is that him?” He reached and tapped the picture, your eyes glanced down at the page as a tension built in your neck.

“I don’t know…” You swallowed, “I didn’t see their face, they covered my face and knocked me out...” Jung hummed again, writing something down.

“Do you have any ties to any gang-related crime?” He asked, looking at you again, “Family? Friends? Colleagues?” He listed off professionally, a stark contrast to what he was saying.

You imagined if someone put a thermometer on your body right now; they think you were unusually warm for such a cold room, the sweat in your palms enough to drown someone at this rate.

“No,” This was the truth, “I don’t talk to my family but they’re a standard bunch, nothing shady… Same with my friends, they’re all normal people…” You nodded, sighing softly.

“What about co-workers?” Jung pressed.

“I wouldn’t know,” You licked your cracking lips, “I never spoke to Jaewoo or Mr Gwan outside of work unless I ran into them or I was called to cover a shift…”

“Was Mr Gwan there the night of the shooting at Oasis?” He leaned back in his chair slightly, you were hyper-aware of his movements at this point.

“No,” Again, not a lie, “It was just me and Jaewoo, I was supposed to lock up for the night, but Mr Gwan isn’t around much…” You moved your hands to rest on the table, the cold metal cooling your flushed skin.

“Okay,” He scribbled something down, “Now... Can you tell me about where you’ve been for the last 4 days?”

“Shit” You screamed in your head; this man had been lying for you but what were you supposed to say?

“Well…” You coughed, thoughts of Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, running away whizzing around your head as you looked at the table.

“It’s okay,” Jung said with a nod, “Take your time.” Glancing up at him you sighed.

“I’m not sure what happened…” You bit down on your lip, “I was knocked out for most of the first day and the rest… They kept me in the dark.”

“They?” Jung pressed slightly, “There was more than one of them?”

“Yes,” You moved in your chair slightly, “I couldn’t see them, but I could sort of hear them, there was more than one.”

“So, you never knew where you were for the 4 days you were there?” Jung asked, tapping his pen on the table.

“I didn’t know at all,” You were a liar, an ugly liar, “I was kept in a dark room, every few hours someone one would food and water in and that was it…”

“Right…” The man nodded, “And the warehouse, how did you end up there?” You sighed, cracking your knuckles.

“Someone came into the room, forced me to stand up then covered my head with a cloth bag...” You grimaced slightly, “I was put in a car and before I knew it, I was there – strapped to a chair.”

“Did anything happen in the warehouse?” Jung raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you shook your head knowing to keep quiet, “I was just left there, facing the door – I heard movement behind me but that was it.”

“So, they just left you there?” You nodded again at that.

“Yes, they bagged me again before they left…” You quieten down slightly, “I don’t know if they were trying to kill me…” Your voice cracked, that part was true – the plastic bag over your head was terrifying.

“Did they hurt you at all besides that?” Jung pointed to your hands; you bit your tongue in your mouth at that.

“No,” you looked at your bandages, “I fell outside work a few days ago into some glass, but they never hurt me when I was with them, they left me alone.”

“Right…” Jung furrowed his eyebrows, “Only a few more questions left ma’am, then you’re free to go.” You sighed at that, your chest feeling funny.

Looking at you, he slid another piece of paper in front of you; this time it was a blurry photo of two men, squinting your eyes you had to stifle a small gasp; among the pixels, you could make out Baekhyun’s face, it was an old picture because the hair was different but regardless, it was him. The other man in the photo had his back to the camera, but you could tell they were tall, probably Chanyeol; the two of them were always together it seemed, but the photo showed them in a dimly lit parking lot, the light causing the camera to lose any focus it had.

“That photo, do those men look familiar?” You were leaning into the photo to get a better look, but you flicked your eyes up to the officer; there was that glint in his eyes again.

“No,” You lied again, keeping eye contact with the officer, “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

“So, the name Exodus means nothing to you?” He pressed, raising an eyebrow; the look in his eyes was the same as Sehun’s.

“You sly bastard…” Your mouth opened slightly as you spoke in your head.

“Nothing at all,” You affirmed, “Is that part of the bible?” You questioned; the commissioner chuckled softly at that.

“I think we have everything we need,” Jung nodded, “We’ll be in contact if we need you, the security tapes already show you had nothing to do with this.” It was hasty but you nodded with him.

Quickly taking the paper bag, Jung tucked them into a file along with his nose that he took during questioning; his weathered had reached to turn the recording off as the door to the room opened, Officer Jeon appearing in the doorway looking a bit more frazzled than you had seen him before.

“Ma’am,” He coughed looking at the two of you with a soft smile, it was forced but you welcomed it for once.

“Your boyfriend is here.”

Crunch.

Sehun’s body moved with the momentum of the punch as he internally winced at the feeling of his skin hitting bone, but he didn’t drawback at all – taking some sort of sick satisfaction at the vision of his newest captive’s head flinging back with a grunt. Byung-Chul was a mess, his face bloodied and raw, and the previous hit had just done a magnificent job at breaking his nose.

“I’ll ask again,” Sehun stood back to his full height, shaking off his hand; which in the short time they’ had been down there had gone from milky smooth skin to a blistering mess of red and torn skin, “Who are you working for?” Sehun inquired again, raising his brows when Byung-Chul spat his blood on the floor very close to Sehun’s shoes, it only landed the man another bunch, Sehun grunting with the force of his swing.

To some, Sehun was visually the vision of calm; even though his suit that he’d normally wear had been deconstructed to just a simple yet expensive white shirt and slacks with his hair, while slightly dishevelled, was still pretty much pushed back away from his face. He looked more fit to be at a party or an expensive restaurant than in his basement trying to information from a lowly gang member but here he was, looking at his latest captive with contempt. It took a quick a glance and a nod from Baekhyun, who was resting at the corner of the drab room, for Sehun to roll his eyes; his large hand reaching out to grasp the hair on Byung-Chul’s head.

“You know,” Sehun was right next to the man’s face, his fist tightening in his hair as the man whimpered slightly at the pull; Sehun wasn’t holding back with this captive, “The longer you stay silent the harder I’m going to hit you, do you want that?” Sehun looking down at the man with a mocking look; his dark brows raised like he was giving a choice.

“I’m waiting,” Sehun whispered darkly, yanking the man’s hair for good measure; but when he received silence, he flung his head forward away from him, the chair he was in shaking with the force.

Standing up to his full height again, Sehun paced around Byung-Chul; his hands clasped behind his back in thought, his face was stern with stress and slight anger, so that thought that he had slowly dissipated as he quickly swivelled back around, gearing his long leg back before the heel of his leather shoe dug itself into the gunshot wound on Byung-Chul’s leg in a very swift kick. This time Byung-Chul howled for the first time in hours, his yelp reverbing off the concrete walls and into everyone’s ears – from the corner of his eye, Sehun could see Chanyeol even flinch at the thought of getting a hard sole in a fresh gunshot wound. But how his men felt about the situation was redundant to him.

“Talk.” Sehun snapped at the man whose tears were disgustingly mixing with his blood after leaking from his puffed eyes, “I have all day, but do you?” Sehun taunted crouching down to be eye level with the man.

“Who are you working for,” Sehun reiterated, one of his hands sliding into his back pocket to grasp something, his long fingers grasping onto cool metal “I won’t ask you again.”

Byung-Chul in all his battered glory stared him down, “They’ll kill me.” He rasped.

“I’ll kill you,” Sehun reminded him, tutting slightly but surprised he said anything after 3 hours of beatings.

“They’ll kill me…” Byung-Chul grated out again, before leaning his face closer to his old boss locking what he could of his eyes to Sehun’s, “And then they’ll kill you.” He spat.

It took a second for the words to settle over Sehun but as soon as they did his hand was whipping out of his pocket and the knife he was holding was impaled into Byung-Chul’s leg – the force of the action causing it to slide all the way through his leg and into the wood of the chair on the other side. Byung-Chul’s eyes bulged for a second in shock before he screamed out, his head tipping back in agony, but it only caused his leg to pull on the metal that was now a part of it, the blood gushing from his leg and dripping onto the floor below; a puddle slowly building.

“Sit tight, Byung-Chul,” Sehun smirked at the man, patting the sobbing man on the back at his stool straight, “We’ll talk again soon.” He ended with before the taller man was walking out the room with all the grace of a king.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol who had been quietly observing the session the whole time filed out after him, their captive yelling out his pain to no one now. The heavy metal door slammed behind the three of them as they exited, the theatrics of the room washing off them much like Sehun was washing the blood off his hands in the small sink the kept in the basement.

“Well,” Baekhyun sniped, “That was woefully unfulfilling,” He scoffed planting himself on a table that was filled with various instruments they would often use for the people in the room they were just in.

Sehun was too busy looking the mixture of blood washing down the sink to bother to respond to Baekhyun’s comment; his jaw a bit tense at he watched the ivory sink turn a nasty shade of pink, luckily Chanyeol did the talking for him.

“Maybe,” Chanyeol was leaning against the stairs that led out the basement, “But it confirmed that whoever he’s working for is making Sehun the target.” Baekhyun hummed at that.

“But why?” Baekhyun pondered, “He’s keeping pretty tight-lipped for someone who ran a bar and just happened to smuggle and sell drugs in his spare time.” Sehun was shaking his hands off in the sink before he turned around.

“Money, probably, that or blackmail,” Sehun gravelled out, “Always the motives to keep quiet,” He leaned against the sink, uncaring if anything he was wearing got wet.

“So far, we have only him and your little bartender who knows what this new guy looks like,” Baekhyun was swinging his legs on the edge of the table like a child, an oxymoron to the conversation they were having, “No security tapes, no one else knows that he or his men look like.” Sehun sighed at that. “That…” Sehun trailed off, “Is something that I’m currently dealing with.” Chanyeol raised his eyebrow.

“How? You left the girl suffocating to death, I doubt she’ll want to help you now,” Chanyeol spat out, Baekhyun whistled lowly at that a small smirk on his face, “And that idiot in there won’t say anything, so where does that leave us?”

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Baekhyun was back to his Cheshire cat ways, which had Sehun rolling his eyes at the two of them.

“Down boy,” Sehun drawled to Chanyeol, “The girl’s alive, you can rest easily” He rolled his eyes while looking at his watch.

“If I timed it right, she should be at the police station now,” He hummed, “But where she is, is no concern to you – I’ve got plans for the girl yet.”

“Didn’t you go out of your way to call her useless?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at him. “Why drag her into this?”

“Yes,” Sehun locked eyes with him, as Baekhyun sat with a shit-eating grin at the tension, “And at the time, she was useless.” He tweaked his eyebrow at him

“What changed,” Chanyeol challenged his boss.

“Baekhyun already said, she knows what this new guy looks like,” Sehun spoke plainly to him, not taking his challenge although he could see it clearly, “That’s useful to me now.”

“She’s not your pawn,” Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And she’s nothing to do with you either,” Sehun retorted back.

Although Chanyeol would never admit it to anyone in the room, the brief moments he spent with you touched him in a way he hadn’t felt in a while – it wasn’t romantic in the slightest, but he felt a sense of protection over you. It was stupid considering he hadn’t known you that long, but watching you talk and just be as you have sparked a sense of longing in him – a longing for normality and just a state of being where he didn’t have to worry about watching his boss pummel someone to pieces.

“Why do you care?” Sehun tilted his head at his brother.

All while this was happening Baekhyun was sat off to the side living up the drama unfolding in front of him – they never did give him the credit but Baekhyun was an observer, he may be a loudmouth but it was moments like this he could just sit and watch, take everything in for later use.

“I don’t,” Chanyeol lied.

“Really?” Sehun laughed slightly, but there wasn’t much to the laugh, “Your tone would say otherwise”

“I’m just curious how you’re using her, that’s all.” Chanyeol snapped back, his body tense, Sehun chuckled slightly at that standing up from the sink.

“Don’t worry yourself with my matters, Chanyeol,” Sehun hummed, “Do the jobs your given and leave the girl to me.”

Walking towards the stairs there was an air of a smirk still on Sehun’s face, the tired man making his way back up to civilisation so that he could sleep in peace but not before playfully clapping Chanyeol on the back, glancing at him over his shoulder as he ascended the wooden panels back into his home.

“Electric Kiss could use a new bartender, no?”

The confusion was clear as day on your face as Jeon uttered the words; Boyfriend, but you got up regardless with a nod, following the young man out as your brain wracked every possible person it could be. The police station was just the same as it was when had entered the room, only this time in the foyer was a tall blonde and one that you hadn’t seen in months.

He was still the same pixie-like man you’d known before, except with longer blonde hair and a grimace painted on his usually neutrally happy face.

“Jeonghan…” you breathed, with confusion written all over your face, even though you were quiet, that still managed to get his attention.

The stress physically melted off his face as you walked carefully to him with officer Jeon behind you, but when you were close enough he managed to catch you off guard to pull you to him, your body jumping in freight; the thud of you hitting his chest was all you and felt heard as he practically smothered you.

“Jesus,” He cried, pulling you close as you stood there frozen in time, just sort of smashed to his chest, “You’re alright,” He said before he pulled you back with his hands on your arms to get a proper look at you; his eyebrows pulling slightly at the state of you.

“You are alright?” He looked you in the eye much like a mother would if they were coddling but you merely nodded back to him, a bit too shocked to speak.

It seemed like Jeonghan was going to do all the talking to you, as he brushed past you slightly to shake Officers Jeon’s hand; the man looking a bit confused but taking his hand anyway as the many thank you’s spilt from his lips. Jeonghan was always a worrier but you were confused to why the worrier that you thought had left your life was suddenly back here now. Officer Jeon looked a bit awkward as he distanced himself from the two of you, merely smiling politely at Jeonghan before turning to you with the same kindness he’d shown you all night.

“We’ll be in contact if we need anything else,” Officer Jeon looked at you before sending you a pleasant smile, the young man leaving you and you boyfriend in the foyer together.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Jeonghan smiled at you, taking your arm gently to lead you out into the cold, you were still in a bit of shock at what was going on but as you felt the bite of the stinging air you suddenly snapped out of it.

“Jeonghan, why are you here?” You asked stopping completely on the pavement outside the police station, “How did you know I’d be here? Did he send you?” You accused clearly paranoid.

“Y/n, no one sent me…” He sighed softly, “Let’s just get to the car first, okay?” He tried to reason with you, but you shook your head.

“No, why are you here? You asked a bit incredulously staring him down, “Why did you tell them you were my boyfriend?”

“The station called me,” He raised his hands in defence trying to ease you a bit, “My number was still down as your emergency contact, from that hospital visit last year, they called me once they realised you were gone…you’ve been gone for four days.” His voice was gentle as always, speaking to you much like you would speak to a child how was throwing a tantrum.

Getting a proper look at him, your heart clenched slightly as you realised, he was still in his work clothes; his typical hospital uniform was a stark contrast to his skin tone, he’d gone out of his way to be here.

“All of your friends were calling me asking if I’d seen the news or heard from you and I see you’ve been involved in a shooting?” He furrowed his brows with stress, “Then I randomly get a call from the police saying that they’ve found you and that they’d like me to come down to the station to pick you up? It’s more of a question of what the hell have you been up to?” He snapped at you.

You looked at him and for a brief second you could feel your body deflate; your hands reaching up to wipe over your face as you physically felt the stress start to take over your body – Jeonghan didn’t have to come here and that was clear but your breath was still shaky as you tried to calm down a bit. The scratch of the bandages across your face as you dragged your hands down them didn’t phase you one bit as you looked at your companion with glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just…” You stuttered softly, looking around; after 4 days of just mental mishandling, you found yourself finally breaking, your voice cracking slightly as you bubbled up.

Placing your hands over your eyes again you mentally ran through the list of people that you blamed for all of this; Sehun making his grand appearance top of the list and much to your distaste, you found yourself wishing that maybe you would have been better getting offed like Jaewoo had, the mental image of him laying there glaring at you with his lifeless eyes very much ingrained into your memory forever. In your despair, you could feel a hand tugging your arm gently, your body this time welcoming the warmth the hug brought; Jeonghan was shushing you softly as you let some tears leak from your eyes for the first time in a few days.

“It’s okay,” He hushed you softly, rubbing the back of your head tenderly as you weaved your arms around his waist, “You’re okay now…” Your shoulders were shaking not just of the cold anymore, but the overwhelming emotion that had been bubbling up within you the last couple days.

You weren’t sure when Jeonghan started leading you back to his car but before you knew it he was gently making you sit down in his passenger seat, before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side – his car was a lot warmer than the outside that you felt yourself melting into his seats, your eyes glaring at the interior that you hadn’t sat in for a long time. The door slamming didn’t have you looking at him but his sigh as he started the ignition did – his gentle voice melodically running through the vehicle.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it, but what happened…?” He probed you lightly, glancing at you as he turned on the car but didn’t put it into drive, he was met with your imminent silence however as you opted to look at his dashboard and the little trinkets that he kept there for memories sake.

“Silence, okay…” He sighed leaning back in his seat, running his hand through his long hair – his blonde hair now touching his chin, a far cry longer than the last time you’d seen him, “Look, about the boyfriend thing…” He began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, a nervous habit of his.

“They just called me and asked if I was since I was your only emergency contact, I agreed because I know you don’t have an immediate family in the city…” He explained softly, as your eyes drifted from the little figure that usually danced in the sun to him, “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying anything, I swear...” You sighed softly.

“It’s okay, Jeonghan…” You mumbled, “I was just surprised that’s all, it’s been a while, no?” You tried to smile but you imagined that it looked a lot more pained than happy.

He only hummed with a smile as you put the car into drive, “It has been a while…”

Once upon a time, you’d feel a sense of love when he’d pick you up from random places; back when the two of you were pathetically naive and hoped that you’d last through it all because, in your heads, you’d know each other so long why couldn’t you last a lifetime? But now, you just felt a small ache in your chest looking at you, it was an ache that wasn’t at the forefront anymore, but it was still there like you assumed it would always be for someone that you used to love. Because as the police had guessed, Jeonghan was your boyfriend at one point – it something that had ended last year after trying too hard to make it work for many years, but he was there in your life at one point as a significant other. Looking at him driving you home, you wondered if he felt the same way that you did being in the car with him? The two of you didn’t end off badly but you also didn’t end off on the best foot, he as you had expected him to, had put his work before you – he was also a doctor in training so it was a given, but sometimes you could still feel the stick of hearing that someone you loved wasn’t whiling to put you before something.

It was a childish breakup on your part, one steeped in insecurity since at the time you weren’t sure what you were doing with your life – to be with someone so set on their goals was a lot to handle and while now you weren’t sure still, you had matured enough to know that people don’t always get put first, other things do matter. Jeonghan didn’t bother to try and press more questions out of you or force you to answer anything, he merely just drove back to your apartment in silence.

The police station wasn’t that far from your apartment building, but the drive felt never-ending as you kept your eyes on your ex-boyfriend; he looked nice in the early winter morning, nice and a lot more tired than you remembered, you felt bad that he had to come to pick you up – as much as you loved your other friends, you knew none of them would pick up the call from a random number. It was just dawning on you that since you’d been let go by Sehun, you didn’t have any of your possession; your phone, wallet etc were all in their possession and would you ever get those back? Sehun had made it very clear that he never wanted to see you again, you were nothing in the problem he was currently having. The jolting of the car pulled you back to reality as you realised that Jeonghan had parked at the back of the building where Baekhyun and Chanyeol found you – the car that you stole was nowhere to be found, even though you were still wearing the man’s jacket.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Jeonghan asked softly, “You do have to if you don’t want too, I can call someone for you if you’d like?” He quickly added

“Jeonghan,” You said softly, smiling slightly, “It’s okay, you can walk me up...” You said gently, almost as you were soothing him.

“Are you sure?” He frowned softly taking the keys out the ignition, you chuckled faintly unbuckling your seat belt.

“Yes,” You said opening the door, “Now come on.”

It was cute to see him scurry out the car to catch up with you, but you were powerwalking to the building door; grunting softly as you shouldered it to open it.

“They still haven’t got that fixed?” You could hear the amused tone in his voice as you scoffed.

“No, I just like shouldering heavy doors for fun,” You rolled your eyes, holding the door for him to walk past you; you smiled faintly as you caught a whiff of his aftershave, the comforting smell he used was still there. “Does that mean the elevator is still out too?” He questioned looking at the metal contraption.

“No, that works” You sighed softly, walking to the piece of trash that most of the time actually didn’t work, “I just don’t trust it.” You confirmed pressing the up button, hearing the fowl ding that it screeched out.

The two of you stood there in silence side by side as you watch the numbers of the elevator countdown to the lobby floor, the peeling paint around the thing wasn’t the most appealing but it was expected considering you lived in an 8 story pile of shit.

“I thought you were going to move,” Your face physically hardened listening to him break the silence, remembering that you were going to move with him.

“Couldn’t afford it,” You gritted out slightly, “Especially can’t afford it now, my work did just get shot up.” Jeonghan winced slightly as you snapped.

“Sorry…” He mumbled as the elevator opened up, the pale-yellow light bouncing off the walls of the confined box, showing all the shitty graffiti and the deprecation of it.

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the death box, your arms wrapping your stolen jacket tightly around you, reaching out you nudged the button for the 5th floor and listened to the monotonous lady in the speaker announce that the doors were now closing. Jeonghan was lent against the other side of the space, watching your forward-facing body with curiosity; he looked out of place in the elevator to hell, too clean and too put together to belong in something so decrepit.

“Where did you get the jacket?” He nodded to the jacket that was clearly 3 sizes too big for you, breaking the silence again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” You mumbled, tapping your foot impatiently.

“Try me,” Jeonghan smiled softly as the doors opened, his thin frame bypassing you and out the metal jaws to the hallway.

Shaking your head, you followed him out, watching your breath dance in the cold air of the hallway – why you chose a building where all the halls were balcony’s you’ll never know but it made living here so much colder. Jeonghan and his long legs were already at your front door, looking at you with a fond smile as you trudged down the hallway.

“Do you have a way to get in?” He quizzed looking at the old piece of wood.

“Yes,” You grumbled, reaching down to lift the slab of concrete next to your door; fingers plucking out your spare key like it was a treasure.

Jeonghan was just staring at you as the door opened, his lip drawn between his teeth like he wanted to stay something – you, however, were looking into your apartment, grimacing slightly at the last time you were here. It hadn’t looked like it had been touched, so the police hadn’t been here, but you wondered if anyone else had been? Sehun and his men had your keys after all. Walking in, you kicked off your shoes with a sigh – the ache in your legs from wearing your boots disappearing as your feet settled into some slippers. Jeonghan was just waiting by the door, however, leaned against the frame looking at you.

“I’m not too keen on leaving you on your own, honestly,” He said as you tossed your jacket off, the feeling of his eyes very present on the back of your head.

“If that’s your way of asking to stay you just have to say so,” You grumbled, looking over your shoulder at him, tweaking an eyebrow, “Just come inside, you’re letting a draft in” You sounded like a grandmother as you pattered your way away from him and into your small kitchen, your body stopping suddenly at the door at something on your counter.

“I’m just going to use your restroom,” You heard behind you as you grunted in response.“I’ll make us some tea, just make yourself comfortable,” You stuttered softly, trying not to give anything away but you were tentative as you took a step closer, sending a small smile over your shoulder for good measure.

The lights were off, but you could see a large cylindrical object sitting on the counter – something balanced on top of it. It didn’t look deadly, but you took slow steps towards it anyway, your fingers deftly reaching out to touch it and you jumped back slightly when you felt cold glass come into contact with your fingers.

“What the…” You mumbled confused as you walked back to the door to turn on the lights, your brows furrowing.

Sitting on your counter was your tip jar from the bar, but only this time it was stuffed to the brim with money, you were practically vibrating as you approached it again. You could see through the glass the various bills that filled it, a lot more than you have probably made while working there – and perched on top of it all was a cream envelope, your name very neatly written on the front. Sliding the card out of it, you gulped softly as you read the note, the writing on it practised and neat to the eye.

‘A small compensation for your troubles – KJM’

Your eyes bulged reading the note, your fingers flipping the card around to see if anything else was written – it was clear apart from the writing and a symbol on the back, the same one that Baekhyun had engraved onto the butt of this gun. The flushing of the toilet had you jumping back to life as you quickly scooped the jar up, eyes widening at how heavy it was before shoving it into a random cupboard just in time.

“Everything okay?” Jeonghan asked from the door, as you whirled around forcing a smile on your face.

“Yeah of course!” You yelped out of panic, “Just wondering where I put that tea that I like that’s all” You lied, leaning against the counter, Jeonghan only shook his head at you, walking into the kitchen.

“I’ll get the water; you find your tea.” He was already making his way to your kettle when you asked something else.

“Is the couch okay with you?”

Honestly, waking up the next again morning felt like a dream, being back in your own bed for the first time in days and getting to look at your dull ceiling while listening to your neighbour’s shower through the walls was the height of mundanity but it was your comfort and while these were very real things – looking around your room you were pulled back into a sense of reality. It was about 6 hours since you fell asleep and the sun was prevalent in the sky – it was the first time you saw proper sunlight in days, but it was also your first day not such in a shitty little room with a bunch of people keeping you captive, it was refreshing but also terrifying.

Jeonghan and yourself weren’t up long last night talking, the two of you merely having a cup of tea while he told you about his day – he wasn’t someone you’d expect to have in your apartment again and for a second you did feel a bit normal but as your parted ways and he took residence on your couch you were reminded that this wasn’t the life that you thought it was. Right now, you were broke and out of job – you had decided that you were going to touch the money that had been left for you, not knowing where it had come from and that killed you inside, but today was a new day, and it was a day that you knew you’d need to spend job hunting.

As expected, your body ached when you eventually sat up in bed, your hand reaching to your throat which felt tight and dry; your body had truly spent the last few days going through it, and Jeonghan let you know that when he decided that before you went to bed that he’d clean up the wounds that you’d gained from your forest stunt properly; his professional hands cleaning up your own. He didn’t touch Chanyeol’s handy work on your knees, but you could see the confusion at the bandages being done a lot better than the ones than you had done, but still, nothing was said – it was confusing with him already.

You were a mess when you finally got out of bed, your pyjamas scrunched from the semi-sleepless night you had and your head thumping with a migraine from an empty stomach; it had taken you about 2 hours to fall asleep, your mind too busy to suppress the thoughts of the last few days, and you were feeling it now, but sleeping again wasn’t an option, the clock on your wall telling you it was 1 PM. You felt sluggish moving around your room, picking up an old sweatshirt to pull on to cover yourself from your guest but when you did eventually open your bedroom door it was a bit of a waste.

“Jeonghan…” You furrowed your brows looking out into the living room before listening out for the shower.

Silence.

A part of you wanted to feel upset over the fact he’d just up and left you, and a part of you wanted to be a bit angry that he didn’t bother to leave a note; but the main part of you just felt the tingle that you were alone again, his neatly folded blanket and pillow resting gracefully on the edge of the couch. For felt like someone who had lost their love as you sat on the couch touching the blanket softly – even though a bit of time had passed since you broke up, being around him again was nice, Jeonghan could make you feel at ease. Before you could get caught up in your heartbreak, your stomach did the talking for you and you decided that it was probably best to eat something – the cold floor of your kitchen seeping through your socked feet as you set about making something to eat.

A cup of tea and a large omelette later, you sat down at your small dining table and looked at the junk mail that was piling on the other end of it; a few bills and student loans glaring you in the sea of beige envelopes, getting a job was something you were going to have to do quickly – your bank account wouldn’t sustain you longer, not that you had a debit or credit card to use considering you were walletless. You felt satisfied when you pushed your plate away from you, thoroughly stuffed with food and your cold fingers clinging to whatever heat your mug could provide for you that you almost didn’t consider getting up when the door killed your silence. Three quick knocks pulled you from your comfort; glancing at the time you were a bit confused at who it could be, but you placed your mug down anyway; glancing at the counter you snagged a small knife just in case.

Tiptoeing to the door, you cursed slightly as you remembered that your door didn’t have a peephole, but you rested you hand on the doorknob anyway, taking a deep breath you readied yourself, the knife behind your back as you flung the door open, your face falling as you saw sight at who it was.

“You.” You seethed as the clunk of the knife dropping behind you sounded out, your eyes narrowing on the person on the other side of the door.

“Uh… Me?” Chanyeol was confused for a second at your response, but it was quickly wiped off his face with your fist lashed out; landing straight on his nose as his head ricocheted back with a yell sounding out his mouth in shock.

Truthfully, your grievances weren’t with Chanyeol at all; there were with his boss, but the difference was that he was here and Sehun was not.

“Fuck.” Chanyeol yelled holding his nose with a wince before looking at you, “What was that for.” He yelled at you, holding his nose in one hand and a bag in the other, the rustle of it prevalent as he gestured wildly.

You glared at him, looking around the hallway before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him inside the apartment – the door slamming behind him as you shoved the grown man into your place.

“What was that for?” You snapped, pushing him a bit, “You left me to die, you asshole.” His eyes widened slightly but you kept going.

“Pushing me around,” You pushed him again, “Telling me what to do,” Another push, you were pushing him further into the apartment in anger like a crazed woman.

“What the hell was all that,” You shoved him one last time in anger, your chest heaving with exertion as you tried to rip a hole in him with your eyes.

Chanyeol was shocked, to say the least, his eyes wide as plates as you took in your anger; you had been obviously very timid the last time he’d seen you, but it looked like this whole thing had caused you to truly snap.

“Okay, let’s calm down…” He tried to be diplomatic as he wiped the small trail of blood from his nose, you could throw a punch, “I’ll explain, just don’t push me again.” He grumbled placing the bag on a random chair.

Junmyeon was the diplomat of everyone, he did the talking; Chanyeol was often just the muscle that talked with his fists and guns, and if this was anyone else, they’d be floored for touching him. But obviously looking down at you, he could tell your anger was justified.

“Talk.” You demanded, jaw set; you reminded him a bit of Sehun at that moment, it wasn’t often that he got angry but when he did it was terrifying. Except, when you scolded him it felt like a sister or a friend, Sehun could probably take off his head.

“Okay, listen,” He raised his hands, “What happened in the warehouse, I did know that we were going to use you as bate like that, but!” He pointed his finger cutting you off as you looked like you were about to shout at him again.

“But I didn’t know they were going to do that to you!” He quickly continued, “I didn’t know about them planning to bag you like that, my orders were just to get you in the car quietly and take Byung-Chul out, I swear!” Chanyeol yelped as you launched a pillow at him.

“You’re still an asshole,” Your voice had quieted slightly but you still sounded pissed.

“If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at Baekhyun and Sehun.” Chanyeol tried to reason with you, “I had no part in the planning, I promise” You pointed your finger at him looking like you wanted to saw more before it curled back into your fist, your mouth set into a thin line.

“Why are you here,” You touched your head softly, grimacing.

“I have a few gifts,” He said a bit softer, gesturing to the bag asking if he could reach into it; to which to nodded. Grabbing the dark plastic, he pulled out a box holding it out to you; your eyes registering it as a new phone as you gaped slightly.

“Why are you giving me this…” You frowned, it was the newest model and it recognised it as expensive instantly.

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol shrugged like it was nothing, “Also Kyungsoo had to take apart your old one just in case anyone tried to track it.” He added as you politely took the box out his hand.

“I…Thank you,” You were still frowning but Chanyeol just reached into the bag, pulling out your wallet and shaking it at you, “Believe this is yours as well,” He tossed it to you, which you barely caught.

“I didn’t think I’d get any of this back,” Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at the wallet still in perfect condition.

“You almost didn’t,” Chanyeol hummed at you, “Baekhyun was a bit salty you stole that money from him and almost took what you had, Junmyeon stopped him though don’t worry,” He frowned slightly at your shocked face.

“Also,” He reached into the bag, holding a document out to you, “Read this carefully,” He sighed.

“Why?” You questioned, looking at the fancy manila envelope – it was matt black with silver detailing’s, a tiny silver lightning bold embossed into the middle of it.

“Just read it and turn up to Electric Kiss tomorrow at 3 pm,” Chanyeol didn’t look happy at telling you that but you gaped at him.

“Electric kiss? That fancy club on the Upper-East side?” You looked like you were about to catch flies with your mouth, “Why do I have to turn up there.” Chanyeol scoffed softly.

“Another one of Junmyeon’s acts of kindness,” He lied to you, but you didn’t have to know that, “Your first shift is tomorrow, someone will let you in.”

“What,” You squeaked, your eyes wide as plates now, “Why is he doing this for me?”

“Let’s just say, Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” Chanyeol’s lips pursed together in a look you couldn’t place, it was vague, but you nodded anyway.

“I…” You stuttered slightly before you got yourself together, “Thank you…” you nodded honestly, Chanyeol only shrugging in response.

“It’s no big deal,” Chanyeol smiled slightly before a small silence fell on the two of you, but Chanyeol didn’t look like he wanted that.

“How are you doing?” He asked honestly, brows pulling together slightly, “Considering everything?” you sighed.

“I am…” You struggled for words slightly, not sure how you really felt, “I’m alright, just everything is a bit much, I had to talk to the police and –,“ He cut you off.

“Don’t worry, I already know about that” Chanyeol smiled at you slightly, “I’m glad you’re okay, honestly,” He nodded looking sincere.

“I’m sorry about hitting you,” You winced, noticing his kept wiping blood from his nose and his eye was looking a bit red, “I just panicked that’s all,” He waved his hand.

“No no,” He started, “I get it, I would have done the same thing,” He chuckled.

“Next time just don’t swing your fist,” He explained, “You’ll never know who’s behind the door,” You laughed softly at that.

“Shame you weren’t Sehun or Baekhyun then huh?” You tried to joke but the sound of the lock turning had you furrowing your eyebrows.

Chanyeol sensing your confusing reached for something in the band of his jeans, his face turning slightly as he kept an eye on the door; his arm reached out like he was about to usher you behind him but you nearly dropped everything in your arms at the sight of the blonde from earlier walking through your door with a bag.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?!” You jumped, looking at him a bit shocked; Chanyeol glancing between the two of you with his brows stitched together.

Jeonghan was in different clothes than before and looked a bit more put together than last night, but his face was confused as yours as he glanced between you and Chanyeol; who still had his arm in front of you.

“I noticed last night your fridge looked a bit empty, so I ran home to get changed and get you some groceries before my shift…” He placed the bags by the door as he kept his eyes on you and Chanyeol, “Who’s this?” Jeonghan locked eyes with Chanyeol who looked like he was staring him down.

“Oh, this is Chan…” You were cut off by Chanyeol who glanced at you, straightening up.

“Someone that needs to go,” He answered for you, glancing at you before locking eyes with Jeonghan.

“Sorry, I can’t stay and meet your friend,” Chanyeol walked to the door, quickly brushing past Jeonghan before tossing over his shoulder, “Remember what I said,” He left you with that before he parted, not bothering to say goodbye.

Jeonghan, who had been following Chanyeol with eyes looked very concerned as he turned back to you, “He wasn’t bothering you was he?” To which you shook your head.

“No,” You told him honestly, looking at the now shut door with furrowed eyebrows.

“He’s my friend, he was just dropping by…”

In a perfect world, Sehun imagined that his men were perfectly well-mannered people who did as they were told and didn’t act like idiots – but sadly Sehun lived in a reality where his men where his brothers and most of them acted like complete fools who just happened to know how to do their job.

“She did WHAT,” Baekhyun howled with laugher as the 9 of them sat in the large parlour of the compound in the late afternoon, talking and trying to unwind a bit from the last few days; most of them had finally got some well-needed sleep as well.

“She hit me,” Chanyeol grumbled annoyed as he held an icepack to his nose, Sehun was watching his men play around with from his chair; a glass of whiskey glued to hand but even he smiled at that.

“Dude, she’s smaller than you,” Minseok snickered slightly into his drink, “How did she manage that.”

“She just opened the door and…” Chanyeol mimicked a punching motion as Baekhyun smirked wildly from beside Yixing, the latter laughing softly at his younger brothers; his posture much the same as Sehun’s.

“I’ve seen you take out two grown men and you get taken out by her?” Kyungsoo scoffed softly, an amused look on his face; something that all of them tended to reserve for Chanyeol, “Make it make sense?” He smiled.

“Did she at least take the gifts?” Junmyeon asked, sitting off to Sehun’s left with Jongdae, who as always decided to just listen to his brother bicker, Jun had opted to have a cup of coffee than something stronger.

“Yes,” Chanyeol grumbled, sinking into the couch he was on Jongin patting him on the back slightly with a smile, “She was a bit confused, but she at least knew where the bar was so…”

“Make’s our job easier,” Baekhyun chuckled downing his drink, “And you get to see her in that lovely bar uniform we have,” He raised his eyebrows suggestively at Chanyeol who rolled his eyes.

“Remind me why I left you in charge of Electric Kiss?” Sehun hummed softly to his brother who was surprisingly happy today.

“Because I throw an amazing party,” Baekhyun grinned, “You’re utilising my talents.” Sehun rolled his eyes at that.

“Talents,” He scoffed, placing his drink on his side table, “It doesn’t take a genius to throw a party,” He eased into his chair.

“You know what fun is?” Minseok jeered slightly but it had no ill intent to it, Baekhyun laughed at that.

“Please, he’s has a stick up there for years,” Baekhyun grinned, “Your little socialite not scratching your itch anymore?” Baekhyun had a look in his eyes, something Sehun nonverbally warned him to cut it out with a look, but alas the man kept going.

“Your little bartender will be working the VIP section, your favourite spot,” Baekhyun looked almost evil as he smirked, “Maybe you can talk to her like a man, I think you’d make a thrilling pair… That’s if Chanyeol doesn’t beat you too it.” His eyes filtered to the other man as he spoke.

Sehun had been putting up with Baekhyun’s teasing for hours now, while he made up scenarios about how things were going to go down, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that you weren’t attractive, it was something he noticed back in the bar when he first met you; you had the bite that intrigued him, but as everyone knew by now, Sehun’s life was being put on the line here by some mysterious new gang, thinking about being with anyone wasn’t something he was thinking about. But Baekhyun was determined to play some sort of matchmaker, even if both parties where not whiling – he knew he was trying to get on Sehun’s ego by using Chanyeol as a potential opponent, but the smaller man couldn’t be more wrong about how Sehun was feeling.

“Good luck,” Chanyeol cut in, “She’s got a boyfriend,” That didn’t phase Baekhyun, however.

“Interesting…” Sehun thought to himself, trying to imagine who your type of person would be, you seemed a bit too fiery to be with someone timid.

“Oh, how the plot thickens,” He sang slightly as Yixing nudged him with a smile to cut it out.

“Surely he must have been worried,” Yixing cut into the conversation, “Did he not question why you were there?” Yixing gave off the aura of being worried about Chanyeol but Sehun knew that he was thinking of whoever this was could potentially be a threat, vengeful boyfriends were the worse.

“He just returned from getting her groceries,” He rolled his eyes, while Baekhyun playfully cooed.

“Whoever he is,” Junmyeon hummed, “He better not get involved with what’s going on, you think she told him anything?” Sehun laughed softly at that.

“I think she knows fine well to keep quiet,” Sehun smirked softly, taking a sip of his drink; remembering his last warning in his dining room.

Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of you since he left you in that warehouse, but he did get questioned about what he whispered to you; he remembered his apology before he left you with a bag over your head, and for a second he wondered if he really did mean it, you hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Yes, you were just a bit difficult to handle, but you hadn’t done anything asides blow the window out his car, and that sure as hell wasn’t something you smothered someone with a bag over.

“His name’s Jeonghan or something,” Chanyeol sighed softly, as Baekhyun took in that information, a tiny smile building upon his face.

“Duly noted…”

Eventually, the time you had with Jeonghan was cut short, as he had to go to work for the next day or so – his attention being required elsewhere as your attention made the day turn into the night very quickly. Truthfully, even though you were confused at the opportunity given to you; you couldn’t help but be a bit giddy at the thought of your new job, Junmyeon knew some very powerful people if he managed to get you a job at the prestigious ‘Electric Kiss’ it was bar notorious for hosting the richest people in the city, and while it wasn’t a career you still saw it as an opportunity to use. You were that giddy that you turned up to the bar half an hour early, wearing your most appropriate skirt and top that you could muster – it wasn’t the designer stuff that people here wore but it was still nice.

‘Electric Kiss’ was a modern bar that had themes of vintage Europe running through it; from the black, white and silver colour scheme to the 1920s style French canopy’s that lined the outside, it had a very expensive feel to it. The document that Chanyeol gave you, had a small rundown of what you’d be doing, and you found out that things like uniform etc would be provided for you, it was just the case of having the confidence to knock on the front door. It took a second of deliberating but eventually, you bit the bullet and gave two swift knocks, only a second passing before the heavy black wood door opened to reveal a very pretty but very intimidating woman on the other side.

“You must be Y/N?” She questioned as you took her in, she was gorgeous; she had a gentle but also very strong face and an extremely pleasing voice to listen to.

“Yeah, that’s me…” You gulped slightly as the woman suddenly smiled her whole face lighting up, welcoming you instantly by opening the door; it was a stark contrast to neutral face that you smiled a bit.

“Welcome to Electric Kiss” She gestured behind her, her stance gesturing to the huge dance floor and bar that took up the bottom floor of the building, “I’m Joohyun, but you can call me Irene if you want” She stuck her hand out as soon as you walked in, your own taking it in a shake as you gaped at the dance floor before turning to her with a smile.

“Two names?” She smiled softly at that, tapping her name badge that was pinned to her nice uniform; a suit vest and skirt that fit the vibe of the bar.

“Yes, safety precaution” She chuckled melodically as you tilted your head, “Just so no one that comes in can find us outside of work,” You pulled an impressed face.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a name,” She winked, gesturing for you to follow after her, “Since you’re here early I’ll give you a small rundown of the bar, I hope you’re prepared for your first shift” She sang softly as you followed after her.

“Yes, of course,” You smiled eagerly, practically skipping after her, quickly sliding through the bar door she held open for you to get behind.

The actual bar itself was completely made of glass so that everyone could see all the bottles, the attention to detail blowing you away as each bottle had a light under it so the glass would light up and glow; a blacklight hung above them so they glowed in the dark light of the bar. Joohyun seemed completely in her element behind the bar as she quickly tapped on the fancy cash register; the screen lighting up with various tabs before she turned and grinned at you, her arm leaning against the back of the bar.

“Let’s run you through this, then we’ll get you dressed for your shift,” She honestly was one of the friendliest bar workers you’d ever met, as you nodded ecstatically at her, her gentle eyes loving your eagerness.

Joohyun was a fantastic teacher as she breezed you through Electric kisses till system and taught you the ropes of their bar, obviously, you had experience from bars so you picked it up fairly quickly but she wasted no time in showing you the system and teaching you any speciality drinks that they made; carefully showing you how to make them and showing you the book you can check if you forget anything. She assured you that you’d never be alone on the bar for a while since the place can get really busy, they tended to have 2 or 3 girls at any time manning the place unless you were in VIP. She commented with a wink that you would be alone there but if you played your cards right, you’d get tips that would pay your rent for a month.

She overall was completely lovely to you, even when it came to putting on your uniform; she helped you make sure you were presentable and even touched up your makeup for you, making you were ready for the night, she was going to be your supervisor but she was going beyond what you’d expect, or maybe you just weren’t used to kindness like that?

You were left alone to put everything in your new locker when you sent a text to Jeonghan; who had softly demanded to know that you were okay and that the job was safe, he was impressed that you managed to get a new one so quickly but his worrying warmed your heart slightly. It had just sent when Joohyun yelled through the back in an amused tone that your first customer was here, your brain kicked into gear and a smile instantly painting itself on your face. However, you weren’t prepared for what was behind the velvet curtain that hid the back of the bar; the smile melting off your face slightly at the sight of your “first customer”.

“Hello,” Baekhyun twinkled his fingers at you in a greeting with a smirk, Joohyun rolling her eyes softly as she polished glasses off to the side of the bar, you felt a nerve in your neck twitch slightly as you approached him from behind the bar.

“Baekhyun,” You tensed out, the smile on your face clearly fake, “What a lovely surprise to see you here…” You trailed off, wanting nothing more than to give him the treatment that you gave Chanyeol yesterday.

“Now,” He tutted softly with a playful face, “Is that any way to act to your boss?” Your eyebrows shot to your hairline at that.

“Boss?” You stuttered softly, Joohyun cutting in with an eye roll.

“Hmm, surprising right?” She smirked, “Idiots can run clubs now? Who would have known?” Baekhyun side-eyed her at that as you felt anger build up in you. Chanyeol knew what he was offering you and he didn’t tell you?

“Enough of that you,” Baekhyun sassed her back, “Now, I’d like for my newest employee to get me a drink before we open.” You laughed dryly with a slight smirk.

“What would you like,” You rested your hands on the edge of the bar, looking at him while he took the liberty to look you up and down in your work outfit, whistling lowly with a smirk.

“I’ll take a shot of tequila,” He smirked at you, leaning closer to you, “The good stuff.” He eyebrows jumped suggestively, as you smiled at him, reaching under the bar to place a shot glass on it before turning around to grab the tequila.

It was a fancy crystal bottle that was on the top shelf but the heels that Joohyun had given you made it easier to reach, your body turning with the expensive bottle, and instantly reaching out to pour it. A devious smirk painted itself on your face once you poured it, Baekhyun’s hand reaching out to grab it but yours were quicker as you snatched it up; knocking it back as Joohyun laughed loudly at what she was watching. Baekhyun was shocked for a second as you dropped the empty glass back into his waiting hand, the warm burn running down your throat.

“Fuck, you’re mean,” Baekhyun breathed shocked before he smirked, “I want you on VIP tonight.” Joohyun whistling lowly with a laugh at that, as you smirked softly.

“Here 2 hours and she’s already stealing my gig,” Joohyun taunted with a laugh, but Baekhyun merely patted his hands on the bar as he stood up.

“You’re still my number one,” He winked playfully at Joohyun who rolled her eyes at him, “Make sure she’s prepped for the night, I’ll be in my office making a few phone calls” It was weird to see him in business mode but he still parted ways with a smirk and a “Bye ladies.”

Joohyun looked at you with a smirk as he left, “You know each other?”

You rolled your eyes at that, swiping the empty glass off the bar to get cleaned.

“Don’t start.”

When Joohyun said she’d take you up to VIP you didn’t expect for her to take you to a completely different floor of the bar; an upper-tier that looked down over general admissions through a massive glass wall that had a private bar just as big as the one down the stairs but stocked with more expensive alcohol that you almost gagged at the prices. You had come at just the right time; the bar was opening early tonight seeing as they were hosting a birthday party for some rich girl so by the time you were taken up more of the workers were filtering in. You had met a very nice girl called Sooyoung who went by the name of Joy, and by the bright smile on her face, the name fitted her well.

Joohyun, or Irene as you had to call her on shift, had informed you that you would be here up yourself for the night but she would come and check on you every so often; nothing was different up in VIP in terms of the bar except the stocking of drinks and that there was a wine cellar in the back for any customer that wanted a specific bottle with your hands being handed the keys to access everything, including the small staircase that you could use so that you didn’t have to walk through the bar. It seemed a lot chiller up here, the sound of the DJ setting up muffled slightly through the glass, but not in a way that meant you couldn’t hear the music.

The place was lined with expensive couches and chairs, with the odd pool table and regular table spackled around the place, but it wasn’t something you were going to pay attention too; VIP didn’t tend to get messy, and if it did there were people to clean it. You were busing yourself with cleaning glasses when you heard someone over the speaker system say that the bar was now open for business and everyone was to get to their assigned stations, you were set in that department but what you weren’t set on was having a customer so soon, the sound of the bar stool scrapping against the titled floor snapping you into work mode.

“I’ll take a whiskey please, top shelf,” A familiar voice echoed in your ears, one you’d heard it in every kind of light now; whispered, yelled, taunted. You practically spun as you whipped around, your eyes wide as day.

“Sehun…”

#oh sehun #sehun fanfic #sehun imagine #sehun smut #sehun scenario #exo imagines #exo imagine #sehun au #sehun x reader #exo scenarios #exo fanfic #exo fic #sehun mafia au #sehun angst

333 notes · View notes

queenof-literature · 4 years

Note

Could you please do a story on Ao3 about Warriors going through reliving the same day over and over again? Kinda like a Happy Death Day thing.

Hi all! I know that my poll had my Hero of Wild series next, but it has been so long since I updated a request and I feel so bad about that I just didn’t want to write any requests in the middle of moving so it didn’t feel I was putting less effort in. But now I’m sick so I have a little time.

IMPORTANT: I’ve decided to put a new section on my Tumblr masterlist specifically for requests that will not be in my personal LU storyline. I love all of my requests y’all are so creative! I just enjoy putting my fics into my own personal timeline on my Masterlist when possible, and some requests aren’t going to naturally fit in. And that’s perfectly fine! I’m just going to put it in a different section :)

This one is shorter than usual so I’m sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for the request anon! Here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368114

Another day another brawl with infected monsters allied with eight other versions of himself.

No Link even knew what timeline they were in, no one had claimed this one as their own. But something just felt… off. Sure it was a strange Hyrule, but no other Hyrule felt quite like this. It felt as if they were in some sort of limbo. As if time itself was molasses.

Warriors absolutely hated this feeling. As a captain he was used to being on a constant move, going where he was needed from morning to late at night. It could be exhausting, but it was simply the life Warriors lived as a captain. He had to admit, relaxing with the other Links was actually enjoyable. There was just a calm aura that helped even Warriors relax. But this wasn’t calm, this Hyrule set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. When he brought it up, the other Links had confirmed that they usually felt that way in a strange Hyrule. Warriors couldn’t explain that this was different, it wasn’t like other Hyrules, there was something utterly wrong.

The woods resembled the Lost Woods of Wild’s and Time’s Hyrules. Although it was far less foggy, there was a mysterious mist that permeated the area. The leader in Warriors wanted to do something, anything, other than simply walk through looking for the answers to why they were here. But no matter where they turned, the woods never seemed to end. Warriors certainly didn’t appreciate that Legend and Hyrule were completely unfazed. Just what in seven hells have those two been through that this shit was normal?

Back to the matter at hand. Hylia was this fog in Warriors’ brain too? The monsters here were unnerving as well. Not exactly horrifying just… distorted. Everytime he glanced back at one their faces seemed to have shifted slightly. Everything in this Hyrule was simply off. And Warriors wanted to leave more than anything.

“Wind!” Warriors heard Four scream. Scream. Four never screamed. Much to his absolute horror, Warriors now understood why. Some monster, Warriors couldn’t even call it its name it was so warped, had cornered Wind completely. His little brother, shield and sword tossed too far for him to reach, warped and disgusting creatures looming over him. No no no. Not Wind, Wind didn’t deserve to die like this. None of his brothers did. Hylia can’t do this. She can’t do this! Not Wind, not the little pirate. He was such a little shit, a tornado of foul language, innocent questions and bright outlooks. He was Warriors’ little pirate and he couldn’t die. Not here, not now. Warriors needed to protect all of them. He wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t!

“Wind!” Warriors yelled, the last thing he saw was Wind’s wide and terrified eyes, claws just above his heart.

Another day another brawl with infected monsters allied with eight other versions of himself.

Warriors didn’t know what was off about this Hyrule but he didn’t like it. It sent a chill up his spin, an uncomfortable reminder that something was off. He didn’t know why, and he also didn’t know why he was so concerned for Wind. Sure he always was, the kid was a talented fighter and a hell of a force to be reckoned with, but he was still a kid that Warriors appointed himself to look after. He needed to protect all of his brothers-in-arms. He needed to make sure they all made it back to their Hyrules, their homes, even if some didn’t have a home, they still needed to make it back to their Hyrules.

But there was something about this place that made Warriors stay as close to Wind as possible without raising too many questions. Wind knew something was going on, and would most likely ask for an explanation later. Too bad Warriors didn’t have one.

“Monsters!” Warriors heard a sharp call from Twilight. How had he not heard or seen anything!? Hylia this place was messing with his head. Warriors unsheathed his sword just as hulking creatures rushed in from the trees. Warriors kept a cautious eye on Wind as he rolled under the first to reach him, springing up and cutting his sword through the monster's back. These monsters were different, warped and shifting almost constantly.

Warriors kept himself near Wind as much as possible. Something was wrong and it involved Wind. Warriors didn’t have time to question his instincts, he had learned that the hard way. The kid was doing fine on his own, but Warriors kept his eye on him while slashing through the pack that had decided to attack.

“Hyrule!” Legend yelled, dashing towards the boy who had been disarmed. Just like that, it all came crashing down. This was familiar, this had happened. Warriors couldn’t breathe, what was going on? He failed, but he hadn’t failed yet. Why did he feel like he failed? His vision went black, the last sight he saw this time was Hyrule’s flickering magic. Wait… this time?

Another day another brawl with… oh shit. Warriors hated that odd feeling of remembrance that seemed to hit Hylians at odd times. No, it wasn’t just a feeling. This had happened? Warriors glanced around at his fellow Links walking down the road. Hyrule chatting with Legend, the older hiding a small smile at the other coming out of his shell more and more. Wild with Four, the two having a quiet conversation Warriors couldn’t hear. Sky and Time discussing strategy for their current situation. Twilight telling Wind about Epona, the young boy didn’t have horses in his Hyrule and Twilight was always happy to discuss animals.

Everything seemed fine with them, besides the creepy Hyrule they were in. But Warriors knew something was wrong. What was wrong?

“Monsters!” It was Sky who noticed this time. This time? The group all prepared their weapons, the trees shook as monsters came from the gaps. Warriors could only describe their faces as distorted. Where had he seen that before? There weren’t monsters like that in his Hyrule. Warriors charged forward, slashing across what he assumed to be the lead monster’s chest. Glancing over it seemed there were eight more monsters, one for each hero. A coincidence? Or something more sinister. A yelp rang through the battle and Warriors whipped around from above the monster’s corpse. There was Legend, a warped monster standing tall above him, sword raised.

“Legend!” Warriors yelled.

“What?” Legend snarked. Warriors stumbled back, surrounded by the misty forest, and eight worried Links.

“I-what? The monsters?” Warriors stuttered out.

“What? Monsters? Where?” Wind asked looking around, and a flash of big blue eyes looking above him in fear. Oh, Hylia! Wind had been cornered! And Hyrule!

“Wind! Hyrule! Are you guys okay?” Warriors asked frantically.

“What? I’m fine?” Wind reassured, Hyrule nodding along with him, Wind didn’t look defensive, he looked concerned. They all did, they were all concerned. Warriors was surrounded by worry and it was absolutely suffocating him. He shouldn’t worry them, he was a captain it was his job to take care of them!

“Warriors? What’s wrong?” Wild asked softly. Warriors sort of looked like him after a memory.

“I don’t know!” Warriors shouted, not at Wild but at himself.

“Let’s take a break.” Time placated.

“No! They’ll get to us!” Warriors’ wide eyes turned to Time, and the Old Man could see how tormented Warriors was in that moment. Time had his back turned for a minute, what had happened?

“Who War?” Legend asked, concerned.

“Monsters! They keep coming.” Warriors tried to explain but nothing solid was coming out. How could he? Would the other Links even believe him? Just as the group tried to continue questioning Warriors, a stick snapped. “They’re here!” Warriors called, unsheathing his sword, the others raced to follow his lead. But apparently, this battle was only the beginning. This time, it was Time, somehow his Biggoron sword had been launched across the clearing.

Next it was Twilight, throwing himself in front of Time. That would have been the second round of Time dy- of Time being defeated if Twilight hadn’t stepped in. It killed Warriors to see the shock and horror on Time’s face.

Next it was Four, his bright eyes shifting through colors as the monster’s steel came down upon him. Whatever was dragging Warriors around through time like a ragdoll never let him stick around enough to let him actually see them die, or to even try and defend them. It just yanked him away, each time with more memories to use to try and protect his brothers the next time. Warriors stopped questioning it, he just wanted it to be over.

The next time it was Hyrule again, he had healed Legend and had been too tired to completely defend himself.

After that was Wild, the boy had been surrounded by four monsters in one blink of an eye.

Next was Sky, not even his expert swordsmanship could save him when he was surrounded by those things.

Four again.

Twilight again.

Sky again.

Then it was Warriors’ turn. A million thoughts raced through his head in the moment he felt a dark presence behind him. Would this finally be over now that it wasn’t the others who were about to perish? Did Hyia not care enough for him? Warriors didn’t want to die, not here, not after all this. But it was better him than the others. They needed to make it back. The monster screamed and Warriors tensed, but felt nothing. Turning around just in time to see the monster vanish in a puff of smoke, whipping around Warriors eyes met Time’s. And for the first time since this whole thing began, Warriors saw complete understanding in Time’s eyes.

“I know. It’s over now.” Time reassured, placing a hand on Warriors’ shoulder. Time wasn’t just talking about the battle, Time somehow knew something of what Warriors had been through. The man just seemed to get more mysterious everyday, but right now Warriors didn’t even question it. He was just relieved. He desperately hoped it was truly over. Warriors ignored the others calling his name and asking if he was alright, he just looked at Time.

“Why? Why did it happen?” Warriors held back tears, the looks of desperation and fear on his brother’s faces wouldn’t stop flashing in his mind.

“I don’t know.” It was the first time Warriors had ever heard time sound so lost.

33 notes · View notes

datawyrms · 4 years

Text

Reverse

Dannymay 2020 Day 21: Ooze (A continuation of Horror) Whatever that awful shattering sound had been, it felt like it had smashed right over his skull. He let out a groan, moving a hand to rub at his head. He didn’t quite make it that far, the world twisting as he fell from-the wall?

Why had he-where- his breath caught in his throat as he desperately tried to remember what he’d been doing but only came up with a disorienting fog. Focus, Fenton. Worry about what happened after you’ve figured out what was happening now. Something bad, judging by the ectoplasm smeared in the hallway. Red mixed in too. He didn’t feel hurt though. Just an uncomfortable itch in his legs, nothing worrisome. Other than feeling like his brain was trying to ooze out of his skull, he was fine.

Sam and Tucker looked okay. “Guys?” he paused. Not just them, Valerie too...who was too far away from his friends for him to be looking at her? What? That didn’t even make sense.

“I knew it was him when he fell down.” For all his confidence, it certainly looked like he’d let out an anxiously held breath.

“What did I even fall off-” he stopped mid sentence, noticing something very wrong with his arms as he tried to sit up. Or had his arms noticed what was wrong with his face? Both? He must have started screaming at some point, considering how quickly his friends moved.

“People might come check if they hear you” Sam hissed, blocking the worst of the weird green eyed arm from view. “You’re okay, focus on us.”

“Well, more okay than a few minutes ago.”

“Tucker!”

“What? It’s true!”

Their playful bantering helped a little, a distraction he desperately needed from whatever was going on. His skin hadn’t been the right colour to be his jumpsuit, but the eyes were green, so shouldn’t he be in ghost form? Just a really weird one? But no he’d seen blue eyes- “Okay someone needs to start talking before I start screaming again.”

Sam thankfully was happy to oblige. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Well that was probably the worst question to ask. “Err.” he closed his eyes-but could still see from his arms what the-focus. “In general or clearly? Everything’s kind of foggy.”

“Weeeell.” Tucker glanced down at his PDA, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “You might have been a bit mind controlled?”

His insides froze, already terrified about hearing more. Being Freakshow’s plaything had been disgusting, knowing he’d been used so easily and only barely managed brief moments of clarity had always been a sickening memory. He’d sworn he’d notice if it happened again, but clearly he’d had even less will to break free this time. “A bit.” It was more of a croak than a proper question.

“For the last three weeks?”

Danny stared at his friend, waiting for a just kidding, or a laugh, or anything. When one didn’t come he slumped back on to the floor. “Okay you can just shoot me now, I’m done. Nope.” Three WEEKS?

“You didn’t really do anything, if that helps?”

“It does not” Three weeks worth of hazily recalled memories that would probably ambush him in his sleep. What fun. That, and Sam and Tucker would probably downplay whatever he’d been up to. Like how they’d mentioned he’d robbed places but helpfully left out where he shot a police car out. “Please tell me the mess here wasn’t me”

“We’ll talk about it after. Can you get yourself looking normal again?”

So it absolutely had been him, with how Sam dodged around the question with practiced ease. She was right though, not looking like some sort of monster would make things a little bit better. The problem was he wasn’t sure where on the human vs ghost scale he was sitting on. Trying to just focus on his ghost form didn’t work, ditto for thinking human. “Normal way isn’t working. Did something hit me?”

“Nope. This is all you man.” Tucker’s unspoken apology really wasn’t reassuring at the moment.

He scowled at his clawed hands. They definitely seemed more on the ghostly side, as if someone had taken his jumpsuit and thrown it in a blender with ectoplasm. Maybe he just had to shift manually instead of all at once? Being partially dead really should have come with an instruction manual.

“Danny? You’re kinda melting.”

“No really, I hadn’t noticed!” he tried to smile, he really did, but watching his body decide ‘more like a ghost’ meant his arms should have the general structure and consistency of slime was a bit on the ‘I’m freaking out’ side. They snapped back to the freakish clawed hands easily enough, but he still felt weird and slimy for even the attempt. “I love giving myself more nightmares, it’s great.” This one was absolutely going to combine with the recurring nightmare of watching the clone melt to nothing, and it was going to suck. Though… “You guys have a thermos?”

“Never leave home without one, why?” Sam was already fishing it out.

“It’s not like I know how to look normal after getting out of there, I just do, so maybe it can fix this?” he shrugged. Sure, he hated being compressed down to almost nothing and being left in a dark void until released, but it was probably better than this.

“It’s worth a shot.”

He tensed, waiting for the discomforting sensation, but it didn’t come. Well, there was a faint pull, but beyond that, nothing. “The one time I want to get crammed in that stupid thing and it doesn’t WORK?”

“I guess you aren’t ghostly enough right now?”

“Because this is totally a human look!” Don’t panic, oh wait too late he’s already there. “I don’t know what to do!” That, and he hadn’t even considered why Valerie was there, and after all this she absolutely had to know he was mess and great he was oozing and sticking to the floor again-

“Frostbite might be able to help, just try to stay calm.”

“Valerie doesn’t get to shoot me by the way. Only you guys, since you only half managed it the first time.” he knew the anxious laugh sounded weird. “Should get the honour of finishing me off.”

“Very funny Danny, come on.” Sam was forcibly dragging him up, ignoring how the tar like ooze from his arm leaked on to her skin, or how the eyes shifted to not touch her directly. “We’ll get somewhere quiet and figure this out.”

“That’s my skin on the floor isn’t it”

“Don’t focus on that.”

“Well it’s that or the melting or the mind control and all of them are pretty bad!” He was practically just talking for the sake of it now, heart feeling like it was trying to jump out of his ribcage. How could he calm down if he was like this?

“Hey Val, you didn’t see anything like this. Right?” Tucker glanced back at the ghost hunter, who seemed torn between the want to speak or simply throw up.

“Danny wasn’t here.” she managed, staring down at the shattered red fragments.

“Great!” he moved to rejoin his friends, knowing anything that could be said about the whole mess would have to wait.

“Wait did I do something to Valerie?”

“You have enough to worry about, shut up and keep walking.”

He did.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #sam manson #my stuff #short on time today #tumblr likes eating my posts today #but i like weird half mess so #you get more of it #but srsly tumblr how do u even work #was in the tag for like five seconds |D

42 notes · View notes

pocket-clown · 5 years

Text

Smile | Arthur Fleck x reader

// AN: I’m going to be entirely honest: I’m very shy about sharing this. This was actually the first thing that I ever wrote for Arthur, and I had posted it awhile back but deleted it within a few hours because I felt (and still kind of do) very... insecure about it, especially since I was, and still am, trying to get the hang of writing for Arthur and I worry that I write him too ooc.

My mental health has been kinda down in the dumps for the last few months (which brings me into thanking the few people that I’ve been DM’ing with on here and how patient with me they’ve been); a lot of stuff that I thought was calming down ended up suddenly flaring up really badly again, and so I wrote this in the span of about three days because I was feeling too bad to sleep those nights, and I needed some way to comfort myself.

Summary: Reader recalls the recent, first meeting she had with a certain neighbor of hers and hopes that it’ll bring about some sort of positive change to her life. Both reader and Arthur are, essentially, total strangers in this - something they both, secretly, hope will change.

Continuation can be found here

Words: 3,064

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

Very few feelings carried the same weight that emptiness did, and the heaviness that was settled in the bottom of your stomach made your entire body almost ache with physical pain. You’d been able to stave it off for most of the day, but once you were home and left to your own company did it grow in size, and no longer were you able to just ignore it. It permeated your entire being, soaking into every bit of your conscience much like how the dampness of the freezing rain that was pouring down outside would’ve soaked into your sweater if you’d gone out without an umbrella, the thought of which making you curl further into the blanket you had wrapped around yourself as you lay in bed.

Regardless of how hard you tried to force yourself to think of other things, like the good instead of the bad, or whatever was playing on your small television, you just couldn’t stop your mind from eventually wandering back to the thoughts that did nothing but remind you of how absolutely lonely you were - how utterly meaningless your life felt. It was nothing new - quite the opposite, in fact - but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with, especially since you were in a new environment where you were unfamiliar with pretty much everything that surrounded you, apart from the small amount of your personal belongings that filled your cramped apartment.

Though they varied in intensity, the feelings of loneliness and isolation never actually left you completely; they’d loom over you, day and night, sometimes only a light breeze that tickled the back of your conscience and other times a pest that gnawed a hole into it, and their presence alone made you dread your inevitable return to your small apartment in the evenings where you’d be left with nothing but yourself, your thoughts, and whatever program you could find on TV in a fruitless attempt at distracting yourself. You were just so unbelievably fed up with everything; fed up with feeling so stuck, fed up with feeling so miserable - fed up with just being. Even amongst your coworkers and the crowds of strangers that filled the grocery stores and the seats around you on the subway did you feel so far out of reach, so far out of touch with everyone, that sometimes you felt that you could stand in place and start screaming at the top of your lungs and not a single person would even so much as bat an eye at the outburst. At times you had a hard time even fathoming the fact that you existed alongside them, and you found it an increasingly hard feeling to cope with as time went on and you realized you weren’t really feeling any better like you thought you would’ve. You were beginning to completely isolate yourself; social affairs and being in public had little appeal when compared to the safety of your apartment, and leaving for work was really the only thing you could psych yourself up enough to actually do.

Why you’d even decided to move to Gotham of all places boggled your mind, but deep down you knew it was a pathetic attempt at trying to surround yourself with more. Deep down, you craved more; more people, more places, more opportunities - because despite your general lack of interest in socialization, part of you actually desired some sort of connection that would give your small existence even a smidgen of something close to true life - something which you were beginning to feel was impossible to find. You’d hoped that moving to a highly populated place with cramped streets and the hustle and bustle of city streets and plazas would’ve encouraged you to come out of your shell, but it was beginning to feel like that was never going to happen, regardless of how much you tried to convince yourself that it eventually would.

That was, until, you actually made the move and found yourself your very own apartment in one of the many neglected complexes that the city had to offer. It was nearly vacant with only a handful of other tenants occupying it, but given your small savings and what little you made from your job it was all you could really afford. Though your hours were close to the normal 9 to 5, overtime for a meager addition to your pay wasn’t uncommon and you found yourself frequently returning home a few hours later - usually around 7, occasionally closer to 8.

At first, you absolutely hated returning home so late - days at work tended to leave you completely drained of energy and the extra hours left you with little time to take care of non-work related responsibilities - but as the days went on, you realized that if it weren’t for the extra hours that you initially regret picking up, then you wouldn’t have met Arthur like you had.

Arthur - your socially awkward, almost-neighbor; the same guy you were actually warned to stay away from by another tenant when you first moved in. He’d told you something about how Arthur was unstable, something about him being weird and making everyone uncomfortable - but if you were going to be entirely honest, you really didn’t listen. You had always tried to keep yourself from judging someone on a superficial level, especially when you knew next to nothing about them and what little you did know came from the mouth of someone who didn’t even bother telling you their own name. Despite your disincline to believe what you were told about Arthur, though, you really didn’t feel the need to seek him out for any reason or another. He was another guy that lived in your building that you’d probably cross paths with on occasion, and that would be that.

Or at least, you felt that way up until the day you actually met him.

-----

Purse in hand, you’d stepped out of your apartment without even a glance up as you rummaged through your bag. Plagued with some of the worst brain fog you’d ever had, you were beginning to develop a terrible habit of forgetting things and not realizing that you were missing something until you were well away from your apartment, and considering how absolutely atrocious your day had already been the absolute last thing you needed was for you to get to the market and realize that you’d forgotten your wallet, keys, or something else equally as important. It was late, nearly 8:30 in the evening, but an impromptu trip to the market was called for as you’d been putting one off for nearly a month and you were starting to run low on quite a few necessities as a result.

Mind far too preoccupied with both making sure you had everything you needed as well as attempting to make sense of the messy mental shopping list you’d made, you were so lost in thought that you failed to notice the presence of someone else in the hallway, and thanks to your complete lack of awareness you collided right into them - the two of you slamming together hard enough that your purse fell to the floor, sending what little contents it had in it scattering, and the other person stumbling backwards and onto the floor with a soft oof.

That other person had actually been Arthur, which you learned eventually, but at that moment you had no clue who the person you’d run into was, and that almost made you feel even worse about knocking them over. You were still new around, and you really didn’t need the others in the building to think you were both careless and rude.

“- Jesus, I’m sorry!” You blurted out, completely pulled back to reality as you regained your balance and looked down to see who it was you’d run into. “Christ!, I wasn’t even paying attention - I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

Your eyes met the soft green ones of the particularly tired looking man on the floor in front of you, and for a brief moment you’d forgotten that you’d just knocked him right over as the two of you just stared at each other. He seemed much more caught off guard by the interaction than you were (though you couldn’t really blame him since you doubt he really planned on getting shoved over), and you could feel your face redden with the heat of embarrassment once you realized that aside from your initial apology almost half a minute ago, neither of you had spoken a word or moved from your spots.

As you stepped forward, prepared to stoop down and offer your hand to help him up, he stopped you before you could by pulling himself up, sweeping his hands behind himself to lightly brush the back of his pants off as he stuttered out a quiet apology.

“Are you alright?” You’d asked him, a bit bemusedly considering the fact that he had apologized to you when you were the one at fault. You kept your attention on his face, looking for any signs of discomfort or irritation; God knew that with the majority of Gotham’s citizens, most would’ve blown up at you for knocking them right on their ass like you had and so you’d braced yourself for the impending blow up - but when it never came and his response was much calmer than you had expected it to be, you couldn’t help but actually smile a bit out of pure disbelief.

“Yeah - I’m alright. I’m fine.” His voice, his deep but soft voice, sounded strained as he spoke, almost as if he were trying to keep himself calm. He probably didn’t want to be in this situation anymore than you did.

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard there.”

“It was my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going -”

“Oh, no! Not at all, it was my fault - I was too busy messing with my… bag.” You cut him off, voice trialing off as you gestured loosely to the items scattered on the floor. “I should’ve been paying better attention.”

Silence fell over the two of you, neither knowing quite what to say, and you couldn’t help but shift awkwardly in your spot. You debated on apologizing again or maybe even introducing yourself to him, but you figured that if he wanted to know, then he would’ve asked.

I really need to get going.

With a quick glance at him, you knelt down so you could collect the scant amount of items your purse had spilled, trying your damnedest to not be any more clumsy than you already had been by dropping them again, a task that proved difficult as you were so flustered that you were trembling. He seemed to hesitate in front of you for a second, as if he were trying to figure out if he should just leave you to your mess or help, and after taking a moment of what you assumed was contemplation he surprised you by joining you on the floor and handing you your runaway chapstick, an action you earnestly thanked him for.

The two of you were silent as you collected everything, and once you had the last item it in your hand, you realized that you didn’t actually recognize it - a white, kraft paper bag that was rolled up to keep its contents from spilling out. It felt light in your hand, and when you turned it over to get a better look at it you were able to read the name FLECK, ARTHUR that was printed in bold, small letters along the top of the label that was stapled onto it.

Oh.

This was Arthur.

This was Arthur - this was the guy you were warned to stay away from? The guy who was helping you pick up the stuff that you spilled, the guy who apologized to you when you were the one who’d knocked him over? It made no sense.

“Huh - I think this is yours. Arthur, right?” You couldn’t help but pray that he didn’t think you were trying to be nosy. You almost regret saying his name; he hadn’t even told you it yet so one could only assume that you’d figured it out by reading the bag, which rattled slightly as you handed it over to him. “I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I just wasn’t sure what it was -”

“Oh, it’s okay. I didn’t think that you were.” He took the bag from you and smiled; it was such a gentle, albeit a bit unsure, smile that you couldn’t help but mirror as something about it was so incredibly contagious. “And, yeah. Arthur - My name is Arthur.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Arthur!” Your voice wavered ever so slightly, despite your best attempt at keeping it as cheery as you could. It was nice to meet him, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable - though not with him. You really weren’t expecting to speak with anyone else aside from the cashier at the market, and actually having to push yourself to interact with someone on a more personal level wasn’t exactly what you had prepared for. Arthur was kind, from what you could tell, and so you hoped that he wasn’t judging you for how you were probably making the situation much more awkward than it needed to be.

The soft expression on his face seemed to falter ever so slightly, and you realized that the way you had said “...to finally meet you” carried some sort of connotation; it told Arthur that you had already heard about him, and considering how he was spoken about to you it didn’t exactly take a genius to know that Arthur could only assume that what you had heard about him hadn’t been the best.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything,” You tried to dismiss any concern he had as you motioned towards the other apartments down the hallway. “Someone just kinda gave me a run down of everyone else living here - mentioned some names, told me who was around. You were the only one I hadn’t met, yet.” Which was a lie, but Arthur didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that you were so socially inept that you had been putting off meeting your damn neighbors, and he especially didn’t need to know how he was spoken about.

Before the conversation could continue any further though, the weight of your purse in your hand reminded you of why you’d even left your apartment in the first place.

“Hey - I’d love to talk more, but I gotta run. The store’s closing soon, and I gotta pick up a few things. You sure you’re alright?” You took a step backwards towards the elevator, but kept your eyes on Arthur. You really did feel bad about knocking him over, though something told you he wasn’t that unused to that sort of thing.

“I already said that I was, didn’t I?” His voice was soft, his question rhetorical. You couldn’t help but smile, and you took a second to really look at him; even under the hallway’s incredibly unflattering, shabby lighting you could see that he wasn’t bad looking in the slightest, though he did look a bit tired - he looked like he needed a good nap, or three. He was, obviously, older than you were, but if anything it just added to his charm, as did that slightly too small yellow hoodie that he wore over top of his brown button up sweater. He looked soft, if you were being honest with yourself, and softness was something you learned was becoming incredibly scarce in the world.

“...So I won’t keep you any longer,”

Wait - had he been talking this entire time?

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” His voice was tinged with hopefulness, and you found yourself nodding eagerly in response. He didn’t seem to notice how you completely spaced out there for a second, or if he did, he really didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah - of course! I’m right there,” You pointed to your apartment door, “So, yeah, I’ll see you around. Sorry, again, for knocking you over - have a good night!”

And with a skip in your step, you pivoted around and walked towards the elevator, pressing the call button about four times as you listened to Arthur’s departing footsteps and the rustling of the Rx bag in his hand as he walked in the opposite direction.

In its usual fashion, the elevator took a good minute to open its door, but there was little time to be annoyed as your attention was pulled from it by Arthur’s sudden “Hey!” from down the hallway, and you stuck your head back out into the hall, arm propped against the door to keep it from closing as you looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“You - You have a really nice smile. You should smile more often.”

Though his voice was a bit uneasy - shy, almost - he sounded so sure in what he was saying that you did little to fend off the smile that bloomed on your face in response.

“I can try to, but only ‘cause you said so.”

Though you said it with much more panache than you really meant to, you did mean it. If there was one way to get you to do something more often it was complimenting you for it, and something about the fact that it was Arthur who said it gave you butterflies.

With a quick wave of goodbye you ducked back into the elevator, letting the door slide shut behind you as you tipped your head back and gazed up at the flickering light on the ceiling. Now alone, you let the smile on your face grow as you let Arthur’s words sink in, and you bid him a mental goodnight as the elevator began its rickety descent.

Exiting the elevator and heading out the front door of the building, so long gone from the eighth floor where you previously were that you didn’t see how Arthur lingered in his spot for a moment, eyes fixed on the door of the elevator where you’d disappeared into before he turned and continued down the hallway, the smile you had become so fond of in your short meeting with him settled on his face.

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

taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp @tsukiakarinobara (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker 2019 x you #joker 2019 x reader #arthur fleck imagine #joker 2019 imagine #joker imagine #mine

156 notes · View notes

kessielrg · 4 years

Text

[DA + KH] Hurricane and Venus

Summary: In which Ventus is distracted by an Orlesian bard. Inspired by, but not directly related to @chibi-mushroom's Dragon Age AU for Kingdom Hearts, because I needed an excuse to write about Sabrina and Ventus again. It’s been over a year, and that’s too long.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,448

She had been following the trio for three solid days now. If the older two had noticed, they certainly didn't let it show easily. Not that she actually had plans on intercepting them at any point. By now, rumors and legends could easily identify the blue haired woman in that trio; the Gray Warden, the Hero of Ferelden, Aqua Amell. Traveling with her were two male companions, one about the same age and one younger. The one close in age to Aqua was another Gray Warden; Terra. The younger one, the one she was slowly growing an odd fondness for as she watched the trio travel, was actually the son of a Ferelden arl; Ventus.

The trio were on a mission, given to them by a friend, and it was one that she could have been a part of. But seeing the trio now? From just watching them deal with wildlife, and bandits, and those dumb enough to make known that they were hunting the trio down, she realized that she had made the smarter move here. Old habits wouldn't let her stop watching them, however. She simply wasn't trained to remain idle when people of interest came along.

And Ventus? He was very much a person of interest to her.

She just needed to get a little bit closer…

. . .

At first, Ventus thought he was going insane, hearing flute music come from somewhere deeper in the woods. Terra didn't seem to notice it, and Aqua had already gone out to scout the area. He didn't really tell Terra that he was going -more of an over the shoulder 'I'll be back' kinda deal- but he didn't expect that flute to be so far into Ferelden's dense forests either. The idea that he shouldn't have come alone didn't even hit him until the music suddenly stopped. Dead silence rang in the young man's ears. He considered tracing back to their campsite before he heard someone say;

“You must be some kind of idiot- following strange music in the woods like this.”

Surprised, Ventus turned around and found himself almost face to face with someone new. This person was a young woman, her shoulder length raven hair tightly curled and gently resting on her left shoulder. An ornate mask, designed in the shape of a rabbit head, covered her face- preventing him from knowing what her eye color was.

Ventus knew that, because she wore a mask, it meant that she had come from Orlais. He wouldn't have assumed that at first, though. Her voice barely contained the familiar Orlesian accent- only coming through with the way she'd lengthen her 'A's and 'S's. He wondered if it meant she was Ferelden, then taken in by an Orlesian family. Or perhaps it was the other way around, and she was losing the accent? Was that even a thing?

“W-who are you?” Ventus questioned. “And why are you-” he didn't finish his sentence, because his mouth almost betrayed him by saying 'so pretty.' And that was ridiculous. He didn't even know her; for all he knew, she was another one of Luxu's guards sent to kill them. Besides, how could he find her pretty when there was so little of her to be seen? The mask covered most of her face, and her clothing hid even the tiniest bit of skin from showing.

The woman straightened up a little at him. She walked toward him, offering her hand out in peace.

“The name's Sabrina. Means 'princess.'”

“You should be.” Ven sighed before he could stop himself. When he realized what he said, he flinched and quickly started to babble, “I-I-I mean, you… you should be going! Y-yeah! Going! I'm a lot more dangerous than I look! Oh yes, you haven't seen nothing yet. Absolutely nothing.”

“Just shake my hand, you idiot.”

Ventus suppressed the urge to say 'Yes ma'am' before quickly taking her hand. Her hand was much smaller than his- with a jolt he wondered if it meant that she was younger than him too. He had been so focused on how small her hand was that he nearly jumped out of his skin when she asked; “And what's your name?”

“Ventus.” he replied, almost too quick and with a high squeak. “Ven. Ventus.”

“Well, which one is it?”

“My friends usually call me Ven.”

“So what am I to you?”

“I… I don't know yet.” he admitted. “We just met.”

Sabrina's mouth curled as she thought this over. She eventually started to bob her head in agreement. “Not a bad answer.” the young woman decided. Ven momentarily froze. Had there been a wrong answer? What if he did give bad answer? Of course, he wasn't completely defenseless, but if this was just an elaborate ambush…

“I've been watching you and your friends for awhile.” Sabrina then decided to tell him. “If I wanted to kill you, I would be dead just like the other morons that tried to intercept you three.”

Well, that answered that question.

“Then why are you here?” Ventus wondered. “If you're not here to kill us, and you've been watching us for this long, then why make yourself known now?”

For this, Sabrina offered a small roll of her shoulder. “I guess...” she mused, “I guess I wanted to see you.”

Ven's face suddenly became a deep scarlet in surprise. “Me?”

The young woman nodded her head, folding her arms in thought before looking back up at him.

“How long have you been away from home?” she softly inquired. “A week? A month?”

“Well, it's been… uh… um...”

Sabrina took a rather large step toward him. They weren't close enough to actually touch each other, but Ven could almost feel the heat come off of her. He could definitely feel the intensity of her eyes from behind that mask, though. It was an odd feeling- simultaneously making his heart race and his stomach queasy.

“You're just so… green.” she continued to observe. “And I don't mean by how obviously nauseated you are to be in my presence. No, there's this innocence to you. Like your whole body radiates in a warm light...”

Another step forward and Ven was sure she could hear his ragged breathing. He could definitely hear her softly exhale as she looked over him. Ventus tilted his head, slightly, at her. He couldn't describe it. He just wanted… something. Something he was sure Sabrina could give if they were just a little bit closer.

Likewise, Sabrina was trying very hard to fight the thoughts she was having. Ventus wasn't the first she'd been this curious about. Her training as a bard dictated that she was to never get attached to anyone. Too bad that they were close enough now that if she didn't stare into his deep blue eyes, then she'd be looking at his lips. She was sure they were very inexperienced. Inexperienced boys were the absolute worst- but they were more susceptible to distraction..

“Ventus,” Sabrina carefully said in a low voice, “Have you ever given someone a thimble?”

“A thimble?” he repeated, his voice reduced to a husking rasp. He was drifting closer to her now. He could almost see that the eyes of her mask were covered in some kind of mesh- half lidded dark brown eyes were hidden under them.

“A thimble is a precious thing.” she informed him, mirroring his movements. “You should never give them out lightly.”

“Never?”

Sabrina let out a soft laughter. “Well, I guess one misplaced thimble wouldn't hurt...”

Ven didn't know who was the first to kiss the other, but at that point it took him a moment to realize that they even were. His brain ran off into autopilot as his heart pounded in his ears. He could barely notice that Sabrina had made a small movement before deepening their embrace. The young woman was the one to break the kiss. It was with a surprised gasp as she pushed Ven a small distance away. Ventus could only stumble backward a bit- his mind was reeling from what had just happened.

“Drop the knife.” a voice resembling Terra's carefully demanded.

Ventus's mind was still in a fog. Knife? He didn't have a…

“Urg, fine.” Sabrina grumbled. The sound of something heavy hit the dirt ground with a thud. Ventus's eyes trained numbly to the ground. Sure enough, there was a knife laying there. A very ornate one too, with hand pressed curls on the handle and a very sharp blade.

Ventus looked up at Sabrina to find her mouth in a thin line. He noticed something shining behind her- his heart jolted in shock to find that it was Terra's sword. Commanding the sword was Terra himself, his face red with anger and looking hard enough to kill. That was when Ven woke from his stupor and moved quite a bit away from Sabrian.

“Terra, don't!” he started to plead, waving his hands in defense. “She was just…!”

“She was just about to kill you, Ven.” came the blunt interruption. To Sabrina he said, “And just give me one good reason why I shouldn't run you through with my sword. No one assaults my friends. No one.”

“Assault?” Sabrina repeated- a small, bemused chuckle crossing her lips. “I hardly consider it assault when he was the one leading.”

Terra growled before pressing his sword further into Sabrina's back. The young woman let out a small sound of surprise in response.

“Stop Terra!” Ventus cried. “This isn't like what happened with Aqua! Let her go!”

“I'm gonna tell you what I told him,” Sabrina said to Terra from over her shoulder, “If I really wanted to kill you, I'd already be dead. I'm practically a foot in the grave now and I've barely done a thing!”

“Please Terra,” Ven once more tried to plead. “Just put the sword down.”

The look on Terra's face indicated that he did not plan on standing down. It was with a lot of reluctance that he moved the sword from Sabrina's back- pointing it to the ground, but not placing it back in its sheath. Freed from the spot, Sabrina bent down to retrieve her knife, but was quickly stopped by Terra placing his blade right in her eyesight.

“You can leave that there for a little longer.”

The side glare the bard gave him was a dark one, but she didn't argue against it. She came back up to cross her arms in defiance.

“You're being so unfair.” the bard pouted. “Poisoned Apple didn't even have poison in it today.”

“Poisoned Apple?” questioned Terra, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“The knife.” she explained, even giving a small gesture to the object. “That's what I've called it. There's a hidden compartment in the handle that holds poison. When it cuts, it releases the poison. The knife has been in the deIsigny family for generations.”

“deIsigny?”

“A fallen noble house from Orlais. You may be more familiar with the derogatory name 'Disney.'”

“Well that explains the mask...” Terra mumbled over his shoulder.

“As if it were ever in doubt?” Sabrina teasingly mused.

“I thought the symbol of the deIsgny family was a mouse?” Ventus then interjected. “If you're from the deIsgny family, then why are you wearing a rabbit mask?”

“You really are kinda innocent, aren't you?” the bard laughed. Not unkindly, but it wasn't intended to be pleasant either. “Heraldry of a noble house can change for many reasons; their main source of income switches, sometimes the old one was just plain ugly to look at, or -in the case of deIsgny- their golden child gets snatched up by the Circle and is never heard from again.”

“You know quite a bit about nobility.” Terra noted. To this, Sabrina merely shrugged.

“What can I say? I enjoy The Game.”

Terra's body tensed upon hearing this. His grip on his sword tightened as it took it with both hands. “Ven has absolutely nothing to do with Orlesian politics.” he told her.

If they had seen it, both boys would have seen Sabrina cock an eyebrow at him. “No?” she mused. “I heard he was Orlesian by blood. That makes him a player by proxy.”

“Ven has nothing to do with Orelsian politics.” Terra repeated, this time much darker. This led him to finally ask, “Who sent you? And why are they after Ven?”

“Well, someone tried to buy me to kill all three of you off. But I declined.”

“Why?”

“Because you three aren't truly part of The Game, that's why.” There was a small huff before the prudent addition of, “But I'm a curious girl. Goldilocks over there was a lot cuter close up than I thought.”

Ventus's cheeks flared a deep scarlet, but Terra still wasn't budging.

“Who tried to hire you?” Terra questioned. “Who?”

“Terra? Ven? What's going on?”

The two young men and the bard turned their attention to the newcomer. The bard held her breath in realizing that it was the Hero of Ferelden herself. If there was anyone who could easily kill her for kissing a naive moron, Aqua Amell was the one Sabrina was sure would do it. At least, that's how the rumors went. Seeing the Hero of Ferelden now was soon proving at least two thirds of those rumors false.

“It's nothing, Aqua,” Terra tried to quickly dismiss, “We were just...”

“I was just leaving.”

All attention turned to Sabrina now. A devious smile traced itself on her lips- this was her favorite position, with all eyes on her. In a single motion, she bent down at the hip to neatly scoop up her knife, placing it in a holder attached to her upper leg. Her head was held particularly high as she started to leave. Sabrina stopped next to Ventus- their shoulders brushing slightly.

“If you ever find yourself in Orlais,” Sabrina started to muse before moving a bit closer to his ear, “Come find me.”

Sabrina's fingers gently grazed against his own, causing a small shiver to run up Ven's spine- his lips parting slightly to let out a breath he didn't know he was holding until then. The bard could not hide the satisfied smirk on her lips as she departed. Even moments after she was out of eye range, her presence was still felt between Terra, Aqua, and Ventus.

“Ven,” Aqua eventually spoke up, breaking the silence, “Are you alright?”

For a moment, the younger between the three of them didn't react. Slowly, Ven started to look up at his friends with a wide smile.

“I'm fine.” he assured them. “But I think I just gave away my first thimble.”

1 note · View note

badcowboy69 · 5 years

Text

Homeward Bound part 4

Yeesh...long time no write on the continuation to this saga. The story continues on Travis’ trip back to his parents’ ranch in Arizona where he tries to find any lost memories and most importantly tries to reconnect with his family.

@fuzzyelves it’s about time, huh? lol Hopefully part 5 won’t take as long. Previous chapters can be found in my #writings section. Enjoy!

Placed under the cut due to length.

“Here’s to the rest of this visit going easier,” Travis muttered with a pessimistic tone in his voice while pouring a small portion of moonshine. He toasted no one in particular then downed the liquor in one gulp. With the very condensed tale of the past years over with, Travis felt slightly at ease. Slightly. He even dared to admit that he was starting to feel curious about what stories his parents had to share about his forgotten past. Setting the jar down on the coffee table, Travis gave Riley a nod indicating to follow him and together they headed towards the bathroom.

After both men washed the day’s sweat and desert dust off their faces, necks, and arms, they proceeded back down the hall to the door that Mrs. Blackfox indicated was to Travis’ room. However, instead of charging right in, Travis simply stood in front of the door, his hand hovering scant inches away from the worn, brass door knob.

“Are you ok?” Riley asked. “I’m sure this is going to be overwhelming. Just take your time and…”

“Ain’t that. Lookit this,” Travis grunted, pointing at a bouquet of dried sunflowers tacked to the door. “Thought she said this is supposed to be my room, but what’s with the flowers? I might not remember much of anything on my past, but I know hanging flowers on my door ain’t something I’d ever do.”

Riley frowned deeply and uncomfortably ran his fingers through his red hair. “Well,” he started slowly, trying to carefully choose his words. “I’m not sure what traditions or cultures are out here, let alone fully in the wasteland these days, but back in my time something like this meant the person had...ummm...passed away. It’s a memorial of sorts.”

“Buncha shit,” Travis snorted and smacked the door making Riley quirk an eyebrow. However, Travis didn’t explain his remark. In the back of his mind he knew all the years of torture his parents must have went through thinking he was dead was his own fault. He knew all he had to do was ask Mister House for help or even simply get on his motorcycle drive to Hackberry, but fear of rejection always held him back. Regardless of his memories being lost or not, the last thing he wanted to do was try to connect to where he might not be welcome or wanted.

Riley sighed heavily and felt his shoulders slump seeing that Travis’ dour mood was starting to return. He hated seeing him like this and hoped that Travis would relax and cheer up or, even better, find a forgotten memory soon. There was nothing he could say or do at this moment to help as this was something Travis had to overcome on his own. Taking a quick look around, Riley spotted a few frames on the wall near the door. Hoping to break the tension and distract Travis from the flowers, Riley offered, “Check out these photos, Travis. Do any of these spark anything for you?”

Without even turning to look at the pictures, Travis replied with disinterest, “Ain’t got the foggiest.”

The response was almost what Riley anticipated, but he still tried. “Your folks seem to really like photographs. Maybe during this reunion they can add some new pictures to their collection. I’m also willing to bet they’d love to see those pictures you have back in the Lucky 38 showcasing your adventures through the years. I’m sure they’d especially love the ones of you performing on stage at the Tops. I know those are my personal favorites.”

“Maybe.” Travis stared intently at the dried flowers on his door and twitched his moustache in annoyance. He reached to remove them as he wasn’t “dead” anymore, but immediately changed his mind. Although this was his room and he could probably do whatever he wished, Travis felt the removal of the flowers should be decided by his folks. This may be his home, but being absent for so many years he felt he had to earn his place again. Taking a deep breath and twisting the knob, Travis exclaimed, “Here goes nothing!”

The door opened with a soft whine to an average sized room. The room was dim, but the afternoon sun managed to peek through the sides and small holes of a worn, red drape covering the single window. Travis slowly made his way to it across the wooden floor which gave the occasional creek under his boot heels. Leaning over a desk and carefully taking the drape, he pushed it aside allowing the sunlight to enter. He blinked his eyes from the sudden brightness and once adjusted, Travis saw that the room faced a large corral. He frowned seeing it was empty and briefly wondered where all the livestock could be. Furrowing his brow, he continued to gaze at the vast property that made up the ranch while an odd sensation of longing slowly spread through him. He wasn’t sure if it was his broken brain trying to connect back to his forgotten past or something else. Either way, he felt an unfamiliar calm and the ends of his moustache slowly lifted into a wistful smile.

On the right past the corral, he spotted his father and two men out in the distance rolling what appeared to be wooden barrels towards the barn. All three men seemed to be laboring hard over their work indicating that whatever was inside of the barrels was very heavy. Travis wondered if it was alcohol of some sort in the barrels and that momentary distraction suddenly pulled him out of the previous longing. He returned back to the present with a disappointed sigh. I sure could use a drink about now.

Seeing Travis had come out of his momentary fog, Riley smiled and gestured towards the small, makeshift bookcase he was standing in front of. An assortment of different Nuka Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla, and other types of bottles were arranged neatly on it. Aside from a light covering of dust, they were all in decent condition. “Look, Travis, it seems like you were a collector of bottles like you are now,” Riley commented, hoping that finding a small connection like this would help trigger something for his man’s destroyed memories.

Travis stepped to Riley’s side and looked over the bottles with mild interest. “Dang, some of these I don’t even have back in Vegas. Pretty cool.”

Unfortunately, the spark Travis seemed to have got from seeing the bottle collection was temporary and it vanished as quickly as it came. He flicked his fingers against a glowing Nuka Cola Quantum before turning away and drifting towards the center of the room. Hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans, Travis slowly turned in a full circle as if trying to take in everything all at once in hopes he would find something familiar to him. However, as he expected, he recognized absolutely nothing. Still, he was slightly determined to find something and figured the best place to start would be his bed. After all, there’s nothing more personal than that little bit of space.

The neatly made, full sized bed was in the corner against the wall. It had faded, red patterned sheets and a folded patchwork quilt rested at the foot. A rag doll of an animal that seemed to resemble a pre-war bison was laying against the pillows. Over the headboard hung a dreamcatcher made from dried vines and adorned with feathers and colorful beads. Next to the bed was a nightstand with an oil lamp, harmonica, a book about Native Americans that has seen better days, and a small frame with a photo inside of a teenage Travis and his father holding up two large fish, obviously proud of their catches.

Travis sat on the bed, snatched up the frame and stared at the photo, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Reckon we ate good that night,” he said glumly as nothing in the photograph triggered any bit of memory. As he set the frame back on the nightstand, his eyes caught sight of a guitar wedged between the bed and the wall. Reaching over the bed, Travis grabbed hold of the instrument’s neck and freed it. He held it against him and gave a few strums, wincing at how out of tune it was. “Shit, gonna have to fix that later if we stick around,” he mumbled more to himself than anything.

Setting the guitar against the nightstand, Travis stood and chose the desk that was directly in front of the window as his next focal point. The desk was made of wood and both it and its chair had seen better days. The desk was far from organized and it made Riley smirk seeing that not much has changed with Travis in that aspect. The desks back at the Lucky 38 were neat for the most part, but every now and then they could be found with stacks of papers and jalapeno stems scattered about. Here, instead of papers and peppers, was a thick homemade journal open to a random page and a tipped over soup can with its contents of pencils strewn about.

Reaching for the chair, Travis noticed there was a gun belt and holster draped over it, but no gun. Taking a quick look around he found the pistol in question, half-buried under the papers on the desk. He carefully brushed them aside to discover a .375 revolver and gun cleaning kit. Disinterested, Travis placed the papers back over the gun then turned his attention to a crude wood carving of a yao guai. Arching a curious eyebrow, he examined it with mild interest noticing the few chips and gouges in the wood betraying the creator’s inexperience. “Wonder if I made these? I mean, it sorta looks like my carving style, but ain’t as good...kinda rough and not too detailed.”

“It’s still very nice and maybe they have been recently learning how to carve. Certainly much better than anything I could ever do.” Riley took the yao guai from Travis and looked it over for any identification of the artist like initials or a date. “Maybe whoever made this was your inspiration of sorts for you to do your own creations?”

Travis took the figure from Riley’s outstretched hand while his shoulders suddenly slumped. “I reckon,” he responded softly. He set the figure down and noticed the initials TB that were carved deeply into the wood of the desktop. He smiled wistfully and traced over the letters with his finger. “I mean I wish I could remember at least one damn thing around here. Bad enough my folks are off the list, but if I could find only one thing I can remember growing up in this place…just one...”

“I understand, but the day is still young. Don’t be discouraged. Something might crop up when you least expect it and if not, that’s ok too,” Riley said gently while reaching for the worn book on the nightstand and carefully flipping through its pages.

“I reckon,” Travis repeated and slowly made his way to the closet on the opposite side of the room. He stood in front of the door and looked over the variety of cowboy pictures that were tacked all over it. The pictures were from pre-war magazines or books and showcased cowboys in all sorts of situations and scenes either in shootouts, riding the range, or participating in a rodeo. Some were even from advertisements promoting clothing and farming equipment. However, the vast majority of cutouts were of shirtless cowboys striking seductive, sultry poses. Travis smirked, “Man, if my folks don’t know I’m a confirmed bachelor, they’re really clueless.”

Riley looked up and saw the pictures Travis was directing the comment about. “Not necessarily. Some people can be very well aware of that fact, just...might not like to acknowledge it, unfortunately.”

Travis frowned and rolled his eyes. “Well, gee, that’s encouraging.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, Riles. I get what ‘cha mean.” Travis did his best to flash his partner a smile then opened the closet door. As expected it was filled with a variety of plaid and solid colored shirts as well as plenty of jeans. Resting on the floor were a few pairs of worn and dusty cowboy boots as well as random leather gloves and a few coiled ropes. Travis pulled out a blue shirt and placed it against himself as if checking the size before returning it. He continued to sift through the clothes, but like everything else, nothing seemed familiar to him. Besides the bed, clothing would be the most intimate connection a person might have with something, but none of the articles sparked any recollection. This is getting ridiculous, he glumly thought while shutting the door with a frustrated sigh.

Glancing around the room to see if there was anything he might have overlooked, Travis spotted a shelf he hasn’t yet examined. It was adorned with an assortment of neatly arranged trinkets, but what really caught his attention was hanging above it. The item in question was a long spear made out of a tree branch. It was adorned with feathers and beads and its pointed rock tip was attached with leather straps and a strip of gray fur. He stared at it for long moments wondering what the story was behind it. He saw plenty of spears used by Tribals in parts of Utah and this one looked similar to them. It got him thinking if he was truly a descendant of Tribals or even pre-war Native Americans. He had his suspicions and hopes, but nothing was ever validated.

Not wanting to strain his frazzled brain on thoughts about his heritage until he could speak to his parents about it, Travis focused on the items on the shelf instead. Aside from random things such as a few nice rocks and a large pine cone, there was also a carving of a coyote and a two mason jars filled with bottle caps and marbles respectively. However, a framed photo of a teenage Travis holding a baby animal of some kind caught and held his attention. He stared intently at the picture for a long time, more intrigued as to what kind of creature he had rather than if the picture sparked any sort of memory or not. The animal looked similar to the horses he’s seen in pre-war books and magazines or even the toy, Giddyup Buttercup, except this was a real being.

Noticing Travis had found something of apparent interest, Riley looked up from the book. He could see the concentration on his partner’s face and it made him fidget in hopes that maybe Travis finally recognized something. “What has your intense attention, babe?” Riley asked while returning the book to the nightstand then joining Travis at the shelf.

Travis gave him a side glance while nodding towards the photo. “Check it out. What kind of critter is that? I mean, it looks like a pre-war...ummm….horse. At first I thought it was one of those Buttercup toys, but this looks like the real deal.”

When Riley saw the animal in question he couldn’t believe his eyes. He adjusted his glasses and peered closer for a better look at the photo in disbelief. “I’ll be damned. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear that is a horse, but from what I’ve gathered they’re long gone. Well, at least in Boston anyway. Travis, think back during your time at the Big Circle for that brahmin drive. Do you remember anything like this? I mean, you can’t exactly herd cattle on foot...at least I wouldn’t think it’d be too practical. You and the other cowboys had to have a mount of some sort.” Riley felt excitement rising inside of him over the possibility of horses in the Mojave.

Sadly shaking his head no, Travis picked up a carving that was resting against the picture frame. This one resembled the animal in the photograph, but apparently as an adult. Travis stared at it for long moments while tracing over it with his finger, admiring the craftsmanship and details. “The few random things I remember about Big Circle, these critters ain’t one of them,” he said sorrowfully. Suddenly furrowing his brow in frustration, Travis walked back to the bed and dropped heavily on it, still clutching the wooden horse. He rubbed his face with a groan before resting his elbows on his knees. Shifting his gaze up to his partner, Travis twitched his moustache and gave a weak laugh while shaking the carving. “Ya know, had this been any ole room I would be fascinated by all of this stuff...especially the animal in the photo. But knowing this is all my stuff and not having any recollection of it...well...it’s...it’s kinda surreal. Does that even make sense?”

Taking a seat at Travis’ side, Riley put his arm around his shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it does, babe.”

“At least I got some cool stuff,” Travis weakly laughed, leaned against Riley and closed his tired eyes. “All this stuff and especially the photos don’t mean anything to me. Not a damn thing. It’s so weird seeing me doing shit in pictures, but have no memories of it. Ain’t just surreal, it’s downright frustrating.” “Well, like I said, maybe something random will crop up for you when you least expect it. Don’t try to force it.” Riley hoped he sounded encouraging, but deep down he knew he really couldn’t offer much. This was all something Travis had to figure out and discover on his own.

Travis glumly nodded against him and felt Riley press a kiss on top of his head. Pulling back, Travis nuzzled against his neck, placing a few kisses on the freckled skin. “Thanks, Riles. This all feels so hopeless, but I’ll try and not give up.”

Riley heard the tiredness and frustration in his partner’s voice and his heart sank. Had they been anyplace else but here, he would have laid back on the bed pulling Travis against him and would do his best to dole out comfort with his hands and mouth. However, that was not an option at this point and time and instead he put his fingers under the whiskered chin of Travis and tilted his face towards him. “That’s all you can do. Like I’ve said earlier, you aren’t facing this alone,” Riley said gently then pressed his lips against his partner’s. “You have my full support in all of this and I’ll respect and honor any decision you make on how to keep moving forward here.”

“Dang, I love you so much,” Travis smiled gratefully and returned the kiss while wrapping his arms tightly around him. “I really cain’t wait to get outta here later and show you just how much.”

Riley playfully nudged him and chuckled. “There will be plenty of time for that. I only hope there’ll be a nice, clean place in town for us to stay.” “If not, we got the camping gear. That’s good enough for me anyways, you know that.” Travis snickered seeing Riley flinch over the mention of camping. “You know you love it!”

“If I wanted to get hot and sweaty at night, I’d much prefer to do it in our bedroom with you back at the Lucky 38,” Riley scoffed earning a frisky nip on his neck from his partner. “Oh, you’re so lucky we’re not somewhere more private or I’d have to have you put your mouth to better use than that.”

Travis’ moustache lifted to a grin and Riley noticed a small spark of mischief in his crystal blue eyes. Even though he knew Travis was caught up in the moment and the emotions were probably fleeting right now, it was still good seeing him in better spirits than the frustrated, somber mess he’s been since they arrived at the ranch.

As Riley bowed his head down to press a gentle kiss on Travis’ lips, a sharp knock at the door caused both men to jump and instantly scoot away from each other on opposite ends of the bed. Riley found himself blushing fiercely from almost being caught and he immediately turned away, grabbing for the Native American book as a distraction.

Although not as embarrassed, Travis still felt awkward and he cleared his throat to try and compose himself. Grabbing the wood carving, Travis glanced at Riley to make sure he was ready before calling out, “C-come in!”

The door opened and a smiling Mrs. Blackfox stepped in. “Dinner’s about up. It’s your favorite, fried prairie fowl and maize,” she directed at Travis while her eyes caught the wood carving he was clutching. “That right there…” she began, but stopped as she felt a sudden wash of emotions going through her. “Do...do you remember that at all?” Tracy reached for the carving and held it lovingly while her finger traced over the animal’s ears and snout. Travis shook his head no making his mother sigh softly. “This was the last thing you did the night before you left for that New Vegas delivery. You were so proud of this and it was the best one you made since you began learning the craft.” She looked around the room and gave a nod to nowhere in general. “All the figures in here and the few that are out around the house were done by you. Each one you tried harder and harder to perfect, but this one...this was a true labor of love.” Sighing, she handed the figure back to Travis and mustered up a supportive smile. “Reckon that’s a story for later. Now then, come and eat before your father inhales everything.”

Travis sighed as he watched her go then dropped his gaze downwards to the carving. He stared at it for long minutes, suddenly feeling rather sentimental over what his mother said about it being the last thing he did before his fateful journey to New Vegas. He bit his lower lip as he felt tears wanting to build up in his eyes. Furrowing his brow, Travis set the figure on the nightstand and snorted. “Let’s make tracks...I’m gonna pass out from starvation.”

to be continued...

#travis blackfox #courier six #riley white #sole survivor #fallout new vegas #fallout 4 #writings

3 notes · View notes