#but that’s gonna take a while since again I have like ten different ways of analyzing something now

[mysticalskunk]

The worst part about writing this Rockoon and Doubling analyze is that I have no idea where to start because I have a LOT of thoughts since their relationship is so complex and they are both incredibly complex people and I have activated my outside the box thinking with them so hard this time that I’m just wow! No wonder I didn’t roleplay either of them well in the past!!

Not judging from my own perspective anymore and being a lot less biased is so FUN

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.���

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Nineteen

TW - I cannot stress this enough; Eddie's junk is not of this world

“You want hot chocolate?”

“Hot cho-co-late,” Eddie repeats carefully.

“I’m having one,” and since it’s Christmas, Steve gets out a small pot to make it properly on the stove top.

Steve’s stirring the slowly heating milk when he hears back back door open, and turns to see Eddie looking out, “Stee. Snowing.”

“Is it?” Steve comes out to look, “oh yeah. That’s nice right?”

“Pretty,” Eddie says, sticking his hand out and letting one of the big fat flakes settle on his fingers. Steve has a vivid memory of the last time they were in this doorway, watching the snow together, and just how different things are right now hits him all over again. Eddie sniffs the snowflake before shoving it in his mouth, “cold water.”

“You got it baby, come on, lets have hot chocolates and watch the snow.”

When Steve tells Eddie he can’t wear his hat to bed, Eddie pouts, but he does arrange it carefully on the desk, next to Steve’s flower crown. Steve has to blink back more stupid tears at the sight, and forces himself to take a deep breath and get into bed.

“Eybrows,” Eddie says, tracing them carefully with the point of his claw, “nose,” and then he veers off a little bit, “one mole. Two mole. Three mole.” Steve shivers where Eddie’s claw drags over his throat and then back up, shifting a little in bed, “mouth.”

“What are you doing baby?”

“Gro-seree list. All the things Eddidie likes.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters to himself, “how the hell are you so smooth?” He can feel himself blushing a little, which is just ridiculous.

“Not like,” Eddie rubs a knuckle through Steve’s scraggly stubble. He really does need to shave that off; he’s not drowning in a pit of despair any more, there’s no real excuse for the sad facial hair.

“No?”

Eddie shakes his head, rubbing fingertips across the smooth apple of Steve’s cheek, “good,” and then into the stubble, “bad.”

“This is smooth,” Steve tells Eddie, running his fingertips along Eddie’s arm, “this is rough,” he rubs at the stubble on Eddie’s head to demonstrate.

“Rough bad.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll get rid of it in the morning, okay?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Breakfast morning lunch afternoon dinner night bed.”

Steve has to cogitate on that for a second, “yeah, yeah that’s right. Morning is after breakfast and before lunch. Afternoon is after lunch but before dinner.”

Eddie hums, settling down next to Steve in bed, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder, “before Hawkins Indiana, Eddidie in The Upside down.”

“That’s right baby, you got it.”

“After Monday Tuesday.”

“Yup, that’s right,” Steve yawns, “you have a good Christmas?”

“Many good. Christmas Tomorrow?”

Steve chuckles, “Christmas isn’t for a whole year. You remember what a year is?”

“January February March April...”

When Steve wakes up, it’s to the sight of Eddie’s feet right in the air. He’s lying on his back next to Steve, legs held straight up. He’s curling his toes. Sometimes all of them, sometimes just the big ones. His sleep pants have fallen down past his knees, and Steve lies there a while, just watching.

Eddie’s speaking, and Steve thinks it may have woken him despite Eddie’s obvious attempts to be very very quiet; he’s currently counting to ten. And then he says the days of the week, the months, the alphabet. He spells his name. He waves his feet around a little, and then bends his knobbly knees in turn, making circles like he’s riding an imaginary bicycle. He’s singing something to himself. ABBA, Steve finally makes out, it’s a bit mangled, ‘soopa troopa,’ the way Eddie sings it. Just the one line, over and over, ‘light’s are gonna’ blind me, shining like the sun,’ Eddie must have picked it up off the TV or the radio.

Steve must shift, or make a sound, and he gives himself away eventually, Eddie realizing he’s awake, “Stee. Morning. Breakfast food?”

“Morning baby.”

“Stee?”

“Yeah?”

“Eddidie baby, then Stee..?”

“Oh. You want a- hmmm.” Steve thinks, “how about sweetheart?”

Eddie looks terribly affronted, “Stee not food.”

Steve lifts his own leg out from under the covers, wriggling three toes at Eddie, “kind of am.”

Eddie actually makes a noise, so shocked a little puff of air escapes him as he splutters, “no!”

Steve can’t help his laughter, “too soon?”

“All tomorrows too soon!”

“Okay, okay. I won’t joke about it.” Steve thinks again, but most things he comes up with are kind of food adjacent. Joyce has kind of cornered the market on ‘honey.’ “How about love?”

“I love you.”

“I know baby, I love you too. But that’s what you could call me. Love.”

“Stee love.”

They brush their teeth together, elbow to elbow, “we really should shower.” They haven’t washed up since Christmas eve, when Steve dragged Eddie out of the pool. Steve inspects the tub; it’s streaked with disgusting gritty filth on the bottom, and the dirty blanket and clothes are still shoved into the corner of the bathroom where Steve left them.

They might be salvageable on a long enough wash, but Steve wants to get a trash bag rather than put them in his basket, they are really gross. He also hasn’t really done any meaningful amount of cleaning or tidying since the night Eddie bit his toes off...which between the injury and the moping, he felt he had a valid excuse to ignore the state of the house.

Not really now though, “I tell you what, lets have breakfast, and then do a little cleaning and some laundry, and then we shower, sound good?”

“Breakfast good.”

“Okay, I’ll just deal with this a minute,” and Eddie sits on the lid of the toilet, watching avidly as Steve shaves.

“Okay, so this goes in here,” Steve loads the washer, leaving the trash sack of really gross stuff for a separate wash later, “and then we measure the detergent like this.”

“Eddidie can?”

“Sure baby,” Steve tips the power back into the box, giving the scoop to Eddie so he can do it. Eddie carefully pours where Steve points. “Now, this is clothes, so we press this,” he points to the dial, and then the button, “so that gets rid of the dirt, and our clothes will be nice and clean.”

Eddie does it, and then grins big when the machine starts up, “done.”

“Good job, okay, so we give it a while, then we come back and set it drying, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie waves at the machine, “bye bye dirt.”

“Help?”

“That’s real nice baby yeah, like this,” and Steve demonstrates as he moves along the book cases, around the TV, carefully dusting his mothers ornaments and picture frames, “you got it?”

“Got it.”

Steve leaves him to it, and goes and cleans the kitchen. Jon and Hopper did a great job yesterday, and Steve’s really grateful considering the amount of people who ate here, but there’s still an amount of post Christmas carnage to clear up. He takes the trash bag out since it’s filled with wrapping paper, then comes back and starts emptying the drying rack, getting the kitchen clean.

When he goes back into the lounge, Eddie’s done dusting, and he’s carefully arranging all his new things; he puts his new VHS next to the TV, ready for later.

“You want to vacuum?” Steve asks him.

“Vacuum?”

Steve retrieves it from the utility, plugging it in for Eddie and showing him how it works. “Dry?” Eddie shouts over the noise.

“No,” Steve calls back, immediately understanding the link between the hoover and the hairdryer, “clean!”

Eddie takes the hoover, and once Steve shows him how to move the plug from socket to socket, he does the whole downstairs of the house. After, they sit on the couch for a bit, Eddie’s new legs a little shaky with exertion, “you want to try a coffee?”

“Try a coffee. Want. Please.”

“Okay,” Steve makes them both a mug of coffee, making Eddie’s a little sweeter and milkier then his own, and Eddie drinks the whole thing happily. Steve figures if a beer doesn’t hurt, then a little coffee won’t either.

It turns out twenty minutes later that a bit of coffee can have side effects; they find themselves dealing with Eddie’s first poop.

“Cross the bridge,” Eddie had declared hilariously, after producing what was possibly the most heinous fart Steve had ever heard. Steve scrubs the tub while Eddie sits on the toilet, staying present but trying to give Eddie the illusion of privacy.

“Pee more bad then poop,” Eddie tells him.

“Well, at least this one doesn’t hurt, huh baby?”

“Not hurt. No ow.”

“Pee doesn’t hurt now though, does it? Just that first one?” Steve checks.

“No. No ow pee. Called first?”

“Good. That’s good.” Steve gets the shower head down to rinse away the last of the cleaning product, leaving a shiny white tub behind, “uhm...first is. One. That comes first. Monday comes first, January.”

Eddie hums, frowning like he does when he hasn’t quite grasped it yet. To be fair, Steve knows he can’t always give the best explanation for these things. “Not ow,” Eddie tells him, back onto safer ground.

“So if its not ow, we say it doesn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie parrots back, “no ow. It doesn’t hurt. Okay.”

“That’s right baby.”

Eddie awkwardly wipes and then flushes while Steve gets the water hot for his shower, he waves at the toilet, and says, “bye bye poop,” Steve covering his face with his hand to try and muffle his snort of laughter. Eddie strips off, putting all his things in the hamper, “Stee love in tub?”

“You go first.”

Eddie frowns, “no, together.”

“I…” and Steve can’t, actually, think of a real reason why not, so he gets undressed too.

Steve shampoos and then conditions his hair while Eddie stands under the water, doing little swaps back and forth when Steve needs to rinse. Eddie’s doing a half hearted job, he keeps getting distracted by the feel of the splashing water, watching fascinated as it drips from his fingers, so Steve eventually intervenes. Steve carefully scrubbing Eddie down with the wash cloth; he’s so thin, Steve can almost make out his thigh-bones. His knees, ankles and elbows protrude and Steve could fit his fingers between Eddie’s ribs.

“You hungry? I think there’s left over cobbler in the fridge.”

Eddie nods, “cobbler. Sorry canned filling. Idge cold. Make hot?”

“Yeah I can warm it up for you.”

Once Steve’s done, Eddie limpets himself to Steve. The stubble on his head is starting to turn dark, like Eddie has a five o’clock shadow on his head, and it’s rough on Steve’s shoulder, prickling him. Steve doesn’t mind though. Steve rubs his back, following the knobs of his spine.

“We should get out,” Steve says absently.

“Maybe,” Eddie replies, making Steve snort a laugh, kissing the top of Eddie’s prickly head.

Eddie responds by leaning up to kiss Steve properly, slow and soft, “first?” He asks after.

“First what baby?”

“First kiss today?”

Steve thinks about it, “yeah. Yeap you’re right. First kiss of the day, right there.”

Eddie grins, “first kiss of the day tomorrow?”

“We can do that.”

Eddie suddenly lights up, “license first! Eddidie car after!”

“That’s it baby, exactly right,” Steve tells him, Eddie clearly finally grasping the concept.

“Called before sleep kiss?”

“That would be last. Last kiss of the day.”

“December last? Sunday?”

“Yeah, yeah baby, you got it.”

Eddie nods like there was never any doubt, leaning in to kiss Steve again. Still slow and sweet, a soft touch of lips, Eddie’s arms wrapped around Steve’s middle, holding them close. It takes a minute to register the movement, something pressing against the crease of Steve’s thigh. He leans back a little to look down.

The top of Eddie’s slit has parted; the opening wide enough to permit the...Steve doesn’t even know. It’s worming against Steve’s skin, the flesh the same color as Eddie at the base, but darkening to near black at the rounded head.

It moves freely, probably roughly the same thickness as Steve’s own cock when he’s hard. Steve watches as it moves...like it’s looking for something. It moves like a snake. Like an octopus tentacle. Nudging and casting about across the skin of Steve’s hip; when it wriggles back the other way, finding Steve’s pubic hair, it nuzzles in against it.

“Eddie,” Steve swallows thickly, stunned into a frozen state of fascination, he's pretty sure he hasn't blinked in a minute, his heart thudding loud in his ears, “what-I mean. What is that?”

“Eddidie?” Eddie says, gently reaching between them to touch Steve’s own soft cock.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve breathes.

Eddie’s hand slides across, touching...himself? Steve guesses?...with his fingers. The...thing seems to wake up again, tangling itself with Eddie’s fingers easily. It’s very...twisty. And bendy. The thing looks like it has a, a kind of grip on Eddie’s fingers, almost.

And then the end starts to open, six petals that slowly start to peel apart, and Steve panics, jerking away, pushing Eddie’s hips away with both hands and holding him there at arms length.

Eddie’s...dick? Seems to startle, zipping back inside him like it was never there. “Holy shit. Holy shit,” Steve breathes, drawing in only slightly panicked breaths. He can feel his heart banging away in his chest, “pants.” He croaks out, desperately, “we should both put on pants.”

Part Twenty One

[embbarnes]

Logan being a brat tamer scratches my brain just right.

18+ MDNI | Dom/sub themes. 'P/t' is used for preferred title.

Logan is not exactly known for his patience, or to be pushed around.

He would absolutely put you in your damn place if he needed to. You think you can get away with being bratty? I don't think so.

If you so much as say 'no' or disobey him when he tells you to do something, you are over his knee and his hand is smacking your ass at least ten times. You don't realize how effective this method of punishment is until you realize his adamantium skeleton makes his spanks hurt a lot. You're brought to tears every time, and he rubs over your ass when he's done. "Are finished being a brat, hm?" his hand continued to rub soothingly over your red hot backside, handprints imbedded in your skin by now.

"Uh-huh..." you manage, making him smirk slightly as he pulls you up into him. "Such a naughty thing. Why can't you just behave for once?" he asks with a light scold to his voice, but it's mostly calm by now. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?" he sounds a bit amused now, still holding you after and rubs your exposed thigh.

I think a lot of people assume he wouldn't be into toys because he sort of has that 'I'm all you need' vibe, but come on. He has things for you. He's not insecure about it either. And he certainly doesn't get jealous over silicone.

Sometimes he will make you sit on a dildo while you suck him off, knowing it drives you crazy not to have his cock in you. You want him, not silicone. But he doesn't give in if you've been naughty. "You're a lucky girl/boy, at least I let you have something put in that greedy hole of yours." Logan grunts out, watching you struggle to take his dick down your throat, "You've been so unruly today, now you have to deal with your punishment. My cock won't be going in your sweet honey hole, so sit there like a good girl/boy and take your punishment."

Even if you're a brat from Hell, he will tame you down. A single glance and you stiffen and instantly rethink your attitude. "Talk to me like that again, and I will show everyone here why you always scream my name."

He's a good dom though. He knows how to take care of you. Maybe you act like a brat as a way to cope with something that happened in your life, and you need the stability of a dom like that. Logan's had his fair share of traumatized buddies, he is traumatized himself ffs. He can read you easily and identify exactly what's wrong or where your behavior stems from. He can differentiate when your brattiness is on purpose and playful, or when you're struggling mentally. And he will approach it properly.

Sometimes you don't need to be spanked or forced to cum until you're crying for forgiveness and he wipes those tears away. Sometimes you need a sit down and to just talk. Sometimes a verbal scolding with firm yet gentle authority does the trick, or you need to cry and he sits with you so you're not alone.

Not all of it is about sex.

Logan is good with whatever you may need. He's there for you, which is the most important thing. "Come on pup...what's the matter today? You're being a brat for no reason. Why are you being so bad, hm...tell your p/t." The way he asks in a different tone than normal can make you crumble, and sometimes a good cry or needing some grounding helps a lot.

Maybe your brattiness stems from a lack of care in your life, or an absence of a nurturing figure so when Logan shows himself to be a protector, you lash out with bratty behavior.

He obviously notices this, and he is unmoving. You might get frustrated, used to pushing people away and his stern authority frustrates you to lashing out. Logan is smart; he can handle your little tantrum. "You can fight all you want, little one. You're not gonna move me." He says calmly, hypothetically since he's not actually cornering you in any way. He watches you get mad but eventually his persistence pays off and you realize he's not going to hurt you like others may have done in the past.

Logan is the protective figure you needed. He keeps you in line, but he also tends to your needs. Sexually, emotionally, physically, mentally. He's a good dom, able to handle your behavior with ease and keep hold of you when necessary as he fucks you to climax.

That’s all I got.

[afictionaladventure16]

A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!Teen!Reader)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 4,162

Warnings: Mentions Sexual assault and abuse.

Authors Note: Requests for this fic and The rookie are open!

You woke up to the sound of birds chirping, and your heart leaped into your throat. 

“Oh no,” you jolted out of bed and quickly got dressed. “Fuuuck!” you muttered as you rushed to put your shoes on. Somehow the bed was too comfortable and you slept through both alarms, meaning you now only had five minutes to get to school. Five minutes to do your twenty-minute walk, which is now probably longer since you are further away. 

You ran out of the room and ran into the living room, “Whoa! Good morning to you too! Where are you going in such a rush?” Tim asked as he placed his coffee mug on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. Kojo quickly got up from his spot on his bed and began following you. 

“I’m going to be late for school!” You exclaimed. 

“Y/N” 

“Officer Bradford, I don’t have time for this, I gotta find my backpack and go to school. I have midterms com-” 

“Y/N, just hold on a minute.” Tim followed you as you walked back over to your room, Kojo trailing behind you, you looked around for your backpack. 

“I don’t have a minute,” you groaned in annoyance, “did I leave a backpack in your car?” 

Tim sighed, “Y/N, your backpack is in the car, I’m driving you to school and breakfast is ready. Now, go brush your hair and put on shoes that match and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

“I-I can walk.” 

“I’m not letting you walk to school, especially when it’s ten miles away. You’re going to have a proper breakfast and I’ll drive you to school afterward.” Tim began leading you to the bathroom, where you could properly get ready for the day. “But don’t take too long because classes start within an hour.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t take long.” 

Tim chuckled and walked back to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but laugh at the scene you had just caused, the way Kojo followed you around like a lost puppy. He was loving it, loving the noise inside his home and the way things lit up. There was life and somehow he found himself being okay with this being a norm. 

Tim didn’t sleep much the night prior, he spent most of his time tossing and turning, weighing out his options. There was one in particular that was heavy on his mind, one that he felt like it was the best for not just you, but him as well. He wasn’t even sure where to start, but he knew that when he spoke to Sasha today he would find out more. 

His mind wondered if it could be possible to make you stay at his place for a little longer, Maybe something long-term, something safer and reliable until you went to college. 

He wasn’t sure how you would feel about the idea, but he knew he did not want to bring it up until he had spoken to Sasha. Once he was sure it would be possible then he would bring up the idea to you. For now, he had to remain quiet. 

Five minutes later you came back out to the kitchen, your hair a little more tame and your shoes now matched. “Toast?” Tim asked as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you. 

“Please,” you said as you began to eat the food in front of you. 

Tim placed a piece of toast on your plate. He leaned against the counter as he drank his coffee. 

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you commented. 

“I’m gonna be picking you up after school, you can leave your things here while you’re at school.” You gave him a nod, “I’ll give Sasha a call and see what we can do for you, alright?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” you sighed. “She’ll just be sending me to another home and we’ll be doing the same thing over and over again.” You began, pushing around the food on your plate with your fork. 

“Who knows, maybe this time it’ll be different.” 

“Didn’t take you as an optimist,” you retorted. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “we should get going if you don’t want to be late.” 

“You’re right,” you got up from your spot and followed Tim out to the car. 

Throughout the drive to school, you rummaged through your backpack, panic was beginning to settle in when you couldn’t see the essay you had worked on the day before within your folder. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked. 

“I Uh-” You sighed in defeat, as you zipped your backpack up, “I lost my paper that I’m supposed to turn in today during fourth period.” 

“Where’d you last see it?” 

You remained silent, trying your best to think back on when you last saw it. You remembered placing it in your duffel before moving spots, you had been working on it when you decided on moving spots. That was when Tim saw you. “Fuck,” you groaned, “it’s back inside my duffel.” 

“Wanna go back and grab it?” Tim offered. 

“No, I can’t be late to my first period, we have a test and if I’m even late by a second I get docked by five points.” 

“It’s just five points,” Tim commented. 

“And if I miss a question it’s another five points, I can’t take those chances.” 

Tim couldn’t help but notice how you were being so hard on yourself, especially when it came to your schoolwork. On one hand, he was impressed with how serious you were on your school work given what you were going through, but on the other, it felt like you were being too hard on yourself. 

“It’s fine, I’ll have to take the L.” 

“Take the L?” 

“Take the loss?” you looked at him in disbelief, “You’ve never heard of that term?” 

“I don’t know if it’s obvious but I don’t spend my time learning all the new terms you kids make up almost every single day.” 

“The grey hairs make it a little bit obvious,” you muttered to yourself. 

“I do not have grey hairs!” Tim glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. 

You smirked, “Made you look.” 

Tim rolled his eyes, and he pulled into the school drop-off lot, “Alright, I’ll be here at three to pick you up.” 

“You know you don’t have to,” you said as you got out of the car. 

“And I said I would make sure to keep you safe. So, meet me here at three, alright?” 

You gave him a nod before closing the car door and making your way inside. Tim made sure you made it inside, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was more so that it was a habit of his. To wait until the person that he dropped off got safe inside. 

Once Tim made it home, he got ready for his daily run with Kojo. It was like clockwork, but this time he started it late since he had to drop you off. He wasn’t complaining, it was just something he had to adjust to. Today he decided to walk back home instead, but when they were almost home, Kojo decided he had enough. 

“Get up, Boot! “Quit” is a four-letter word. Do you hear me? Failure is not an option,” Tim yelled at Kojo, but the dog just stared at him. Part of Tim missed having Lucy as a boot, but he’d deny it if someone asked. Tim sighed, “Oh, come on, man. We’re almost home.” Tim felt his phone buzz, and he quickly took it out to find a message from Angela. He smirked to himself, she was just the person he was about to call. 

“Let’s go,” Kojo was quick to get up. 

Back at the house, Tim walked into the spare bedroom. “It feels wrong doing this,” he whispered to himself as he looked around. He didn’t have to look for long because the papers you had been looking for were on top of your duffle bag. He grabbed the papers and made his way out of the house. He texted Angela that he was on his way, but had to make a quick pit stop. 

He was thankful that the school was on the way to where Angela was, He walked into the front office of the school. 

“Hello, can I help you with something?” An older lady behind the counter said with a wide smile. 

“Yes, I am here to drop off something for Y/N L/N.” 

“Sure, let me just see what class she is in, right now. Give me one second, hon.” 

Tim waited as the receptionist searched through her computer. “Looks like she’s in biology right now, I’ll just call the classroom and have Mr. Gomez send her up.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Tim walks over to sit down on one of the chairs nearby. He waited for a while until he heard footsteps nearing. 

“Morning, Ms. June,” He heard your voice. “I was told to come see you?” 

“Good morning, Darling. Yes, there is a handsome gentleman here to see you.” She gestured to the direction in which Tim was sitting. 

You quickly turned to the direction she had gestured at, confused to see Tim sitting there. Your heart began to race, and your mind started jumping to conclusions. Was this it? Was this the moment that someone told you that your mom was dead? “What happened?” you asked. 

“Nothing happened, I only came back here to give you this,” he handed you a few pieces of paper. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “my paper!” you exclaimed. “T-Thank you!” You looked at him in disbelief, “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” 

` “Just promise me this paper is at least B-worthy.” 

“Given that I spent 10 hours over the weekend just editing it, I’m hoping it is A worthy.” 

“10 Hours?” you shrugged, “Alright, well, get back to class, would hate to have you miss anything important, Nerd.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks, Officer Bradford.” 

Tim sighed, “How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Tim?” You rolled your eyes and walked back to class. You could recall the first time Tim had asked you to stop calling you Officer Bradford, it was one of the first times he had done a wellness check shortly after Rachel had left. If you were honest, you thought once Rachel left that he would have forgotten about you. So, you were surprised to see him at the door that evening. 

– Then –

It had been a week since Rachel left, and her goodbye was bittersweet. Part of you wanted to beg her to stay or to even take you with her, but you withheld your tongue. Thankful for all the things she had done for you and hopeful that she could do the same for other kids in New York. 

Now as you sat on the bed in your bedroom, which was also a laundry room, you began to wonder if anyone would ever care for you the way Rachel did. 

You could hear muffled voices coming from outside, you walked over to the window to get a glance outside. You could see a cop car parked on the side of the street, something within you knew that you had to go see who was outside. 

Tim walked up the steps, although his heart was still aching about Rachel leaving, he couldn’t get rid of this feeling that he needed a check-up on Y/N. He had been informed that she had been taken to a new foster home only a week ago and he hoped this home was better than the last. 

He knocked on the door only to be greeted seconds later by an older-looking man with a beer in his hand. “Can I help you?” 

“Good afternoon, I’m just doing a welfare check on Y/N.” 

“Well, She’s fine, thanks for checking,” the man began to close the door. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m gonna have to hear it from her that’s fine,” Tim insisted as he placed his foot in between the door to stop it from closing. 

The man rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “She’s not home,” he shrugged.

Tim smirked as he spotted Y/N peaking around the corner from behind the man, “Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Officer Bradford!” The man quickly turned around, glaring at the young girl behind her. Tim was quick to see the fear appear in her eyes, he knew right then and there that he had to get her out of this house. “Mind if we talk for a bit outside?” 

The man stepped aside giving Y/N the space she needed to walk outside. The door was quickly closed behind her, “How are you?” 

“Peachy,” you stated as you sat down on the steps. Tim followed your lead but decided standing would be best. 

He scanned your body, noticing newly formed bruises on your neck and arms. He knew the ones of your arms were from defending yourself. He clenched his jaw in anger, letting out a deep sigh, “How long have they been hurting you?” 

You crossed your arms, trying to hide the bruises. “At this point, I think I deserve it. Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut up.” 

“No one deserves it, especially a kid.” 

“It started yesterday,” you began, “It was just once, otherwise they’ve been really ki-” 

“Don’t defend them, especially when the man himself didn’t even want to call you to the door for a welfare check. I’m getting you out of here,” Tim stated. 

“To go where? Another home with the same result?” You shook your head, “I’m better off here.” 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but one night in the shelter won’t be too bad.”

You scoffed, “Then I’ll have all my things taken from me.”

“If that’s what you are worried about then you can leave your things with me and take what is essential,” Tim offered. He hated that this was his only option for you, but it was better than staying another night in this home. He wanted to prevent something from happening to you again. 

You let out a defeated sigh, “you’d do that?” 

“I’ll even pick you up from the shelter in the morning and take you to school,” Tim could see that you were thinking it over. He stood there hoping that you would take the offer. 

“Fine.” Tim gave you a soft smile before ordering you to go get your things. He had called in his findings and asked for a backup. Nolan had arrived minutes later, arresting your foster dad for child abuse.

You watched as Nolan put your foster dad in the back of the shop, “is that everything?” Tim asked. 

You had felt like you were forgetting something, “Um,” you began as you quickly rummaged through your duffel. “Fuck!” you dropped the duffel and ran back inside the home. You ran inside the room you had been staying in, quickly spotting the tan-colored leg, of a stuffed animal, under the bed. You grabbed it and ran back outside, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim, “I need you to keep him safe,” you stated as you handed him to Tim. 

“A stuffed Bunny?” Tim questioned as he took the bunny from you. You gave him a pleading look and Tim quickly understood, “I’ll keep him safe.” Tim gestured for you to follow him to his truck, Tim had contacted your caseworker, while you were packing, who, in turn, asked Tim to take you to the shelter. In other circumstances, Tim would have probably said no, that he had other things to do but that wasn’t the case this time. Tim wanted to take you to the shelter. He needed to make sure you were safe and from there on, he did. 

– Now – 

“This is the kid you’ve been checking up the past couple of months, right?” Angela asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Tim had come over to the bridal shop to help Angela pick a dress and frankly, he needed advice right now. 

“Yeah, and I’m waiting on a call from her caseworker and… I think I want to foster her. Like, is it crazy to want to foster her?” 

Angela shrugged, “Maybe, but maybe it’s because you think you should’ve had a kid by now so you’re in this mindset of wanting to be some type of father figure to something.” Tim looked at Angela dumbfounded, “or maybe it’s just crazy,” she added with a smile.

“So, should I do it?” Tim asked. 

Angela sat down beside Tim, “You want my honest opinion?” he nodded, “I think you should. I feel like this will be good for you and who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” 

Tim smiled, “Thanks, Angela.” 

Angela smiled, “Now be honest, you sure this dress doesn’t make my belly look big?” Tim rolled his eyes and laughed. 

It didn’t take long after for Angela to find a dress she liked and once she did they were out of there. She insisted on bringing over cake samples later for him to help her decide, part of Tim thinks she used it as an excuse to just meet you and get to know you a little better. Yet, Tim didn’t say no, because the other part of him wouldn’t turn down cake if it was offered. 

Once Tim had left the Bridal shop, he decided to give your caseworker a call, tired of waiting on her. 

The phone rang a few times before she picked up, “Hello?” 

“Hey, Sasha, it’s Tim!” 

“Oh, Tim! Hey! I am so sorry, I meant to call you back right away I just got caught up on some stuff” 

“It’s alright, don’t have to explain. I understand how hectic it can be.” 

Sasha smiled through the phone, “What can I help you with?” 

“Well, like I said in the message, I found Y/N last night and she’d been living under a bridge the past week. So, I took her in for the night and now I’m wondering if I can foster her. I know there's probably a lot of paperwork that needs to be done an-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasha interrupted, “I think it’s best if she stays with you, I’ll talk to a judge and see if we can get you emergency custody until I can get started on the paperwork. At this point, I have no other place for her to go.” 

Tim let out a relieved sigh, there was hope, “Anyway I can get the rest of her stuff from her previous foster parents? I know she carries around this stuffed bunny and… well it’s probably not important.” 

Sasha had never noticed the bunny, but then, she never thought to notice. “Y-yeah, I can send you the address and notify them that you’ll be there soon to pick up her things.” 

“Another thing, Um- Y/N mentioned that her foster father he um- he watched her shower a few times.” 

Sasha took in a deep breath, “that’s heavy.” 

“Yeah, look, if it were up to me this man would be behind bars.” 

“I’ll call it in, get him off the foster list, and see if we can get him convicted.” 

Tim sighed, “Alright,” if it were up to him, the man would be six feet underground by now. But it wasn’t up to him. 

“I’ll text you the address right now, and maybe it’s best if you have someone else with you when you go.” 

Tim chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m angry but not stupid, Sasha.”  Sasha said her goodbyes. It was only a minute after when Tim got an address sent to his phone. 

It didn’t take Tim long to get to your foster parent’s home. Once he had gotten out of his truck a man waited on the porch for him, “Hey,” Tim said coldly. 

“I assume you’re Tim,” the man said in a rough voice, Tim gave him a nod. “All her shit is in this bag,” the man said as he gestured to the garbage bag that was leaning against the wall of the house. 

Tim walked over to the bag and began rummaging through it, “um, there’s this stuffed bunny-” 

“I threw it out, she’s too old to be holding on to shit like that,” he scoffed. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “Come on, man. It’s more than that to her.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it, it’s in the trash up front.” The man gestured to the pile of trash that was waiting to be picked up. Tim felt his blood boil, but he had to control his anger. The last thing he needed was to lose his cool, not only would he potentially lose his job, but he could lose the opportunity to give you a safe home. 

Tim gave the man a nod, “Thanks,” he picked up the bag, he then walked over to his truck, and placed the bag in the backseat before walking over to the trash to search for the bunny. 

“Alright, Mr. Hops,” he muttered to himself, “if you could hop on out that would save me a whole lot of time.” After pushing aside a bag or two, he spotted Mr. Hops with ease. “Ah-ha!” Tim smiled to himself as he grabbed the bunny and walked over to his truck. 

Tim drove back home to put your things in your room. Well, the guest room, which is now your room. Tim couldn’t believe it when he thought, that his guest room was no longer a guest room, but your room. Tim found himself excited for what was to come, hopeful that you would be excited too. Yet, he had this fear within him that you wouldn’t be excited.

He glanced at his watch, “fuck!” he muttered as he realized the time. Running out of the house and to his truck, he was going to be late to pick you up and he didn’t want to risk you leaving, thinking that he would never show. Tim parked in the pick-up area at the high school, watching as kids walked out of the gates. He spotted you quickly, smiling as you were already making your way to the truck. 

“Hey!” Tim exclaimed as you hopped into the truck, quickly putting on your seatbelt. “How was school?” 

You shrugged, “‘s alright, I guess.” you sighed, “Any luck with Sasha?” You had been anxious about it all day, just wanting to get it over with, were you going to spend the night at the shelter or another shitty foster home? 

Tim nodded as he drove away from the school, “I did actually. We uh- found you a foster home and they’re really excited to take you in.” 

“Same old story,” you rolled your eyes. 

“They actually requested for me to take your things straight over so you could go straight to their house right after school,” Tim stated, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. 

“Jesus, they sound… controlling.” 

Tim shrugged, “who knows, maybe they won’t be that bad.” 

“What about my things from my other fos-” 

“I already picked up your things from there,” Tim interrupted. 

“Oh,” you whispered. You didn’t know why you felt sad that Tim was so quick with his responses, so quick to find you a new foster home. Part of you liked staying with Tim, even if it had been one night, it had been the safest you felt in months, maybe even years. 

“Here we go,” Tim stated, you felt the truck go up a driveway, and you looked out to see where he had taken you. You quickly looked over at Tim with a confused expression. 

“W-wait, I’m confused, I thought you said you were taking me to-” 

“I did,” Tim interrupted. 

“But this is your house,” you stated. 

Tim nodded, “I spoke to Sasha and I told her that I think it’s best if you stayed with me for the time being and she agreed.” Tim couldn’t help but smile as your face lit up. 

“You’re going to foster me?” 

“Yes, if that’s okay with you, of course, if not I can call-” 

“No! I mean, yes! This is perfectly fine with me!” You smiled from ear to ear, “thank you, Tim.” 

Tim smiled, “Of course,” he cleared his throat, ”Now how about we get inside so you can unpack and I’m thinking pizza tonight?” You weren’t going to argue with his ideas, you followed him inside and went straight to your room. Staying with Tim was probably the last thing you thought would happen, but you were happy that you were, but somehow you felt like this was only the beginning of something. 

Taglist: @reignsboy19 @halsteadstyles @daffodil0darling

[luveline]

if you felt comfortable would you write the KBU au with steve and reader during/just after the birth of avery? 🥺

kisses before dinner —you and steve have a baby. mom!reader, 1.1k

Just like that, Steve's a dad. 

He wonders if he's supposed to feel different, and he does in little ways. Exhausted, worried, and unbearably happy —the kind of happiness to make your ribs hurt— Steve is feeling a hundred layers of emotion right now, but it isn't his emotion that takes centre stage, it's yours. 

You've been stiff with panic since your contractions started, and while that panic turned to happy tears the moment they laid her on your chest, you're looking at the baby like you're terrified of her, stiffness returned. Genuine fear. 

"Come on," he says softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "She's not half as ugly as we worried."

She's beautiful. Steve's legs hurt after all these hours of standing by your side, and he can't bear to look away from the baby's face, her face, and it doesn't matter. You're his priority. He juggles these two things as he assumes he'll be juggling them for the rest of his life, happily if clumsily. 

"Please smile, honey," he says. 

You relax almost imperceptibly with his murmuring. "I am smiling." 

"You're grimacing. Ten dollar word." He crouches and steps back enough for you to see his face clearly. "Are you happy? Like, truthfully?" he asks, knowing 'truthfully' isn't a word he says. Accusing the new mother of his child of lying feels a bit dick-ish, though.

"Of course I'm happy." 

"It's okay if you're not happy. I'm not happy if you're not happy, I'm–" 

"Steve." Your smile is sad in a way, but your eyes aren't half as scared as they were. "I am happy, I'm just worried. No more trial run… I'm a mom." 

"You're a mom." He doesn't mean to say it with the world's cheesiest smile. "I didn't know they made 'em like you, I would've started chasing moms years ago." 

You laugh. He's always loved your laugh because it's yours, and it couldn't come at a better time, not even when you were pushing. None of them sounded as happy as this one. "I'm a mom," you say, still laughing. 

"I know." He leans in to dash a kiss against your cheek. You perk up at the attention, so he does it twice more. 

“This is gonna be so fun,” you say. 

His heart rears to explode. Steve puts one hand on yours under the weight of the baby and the other behind your shoulder. “Just don't let me drop her,” you say.

“My hand’s already there.” 

“Okay. I love you. Are you sure?” 

“Don't freak out.” He thinks so many things in that moment but the loudest is, aw, my girl. “You're good, babe, I love you. This is gonna be fun, just like you said. We're gonna love it.” 

Steve sits on the side of the bed and holds you like that for a while. You relax at the support and watch the baby's little face in sleep. She has the most dainty face Steve has ever seen in person. She's so, so small. He kinda thought she'd be bigger considering the whole nine month gestation period and all your aches and pains, but she's perfect. He could fit her in two hands. 

“Avery,” you say. 

You picked it out together ages ago. Seeing her now cements it. “Avery,” he repeats happily, failing to resist the urge to touch her face again. 

You need time to recover and thankfully, the nurses and doctors haven't rushed the process. You're clean but in pain, and Steve gets to hold the baby by himself while you change. 

“Can I help?” he asks, watching you wince. You barely want to stand. 

“No, just hold her.” 

“She won't break if we put her down. She's safer in the bassinet anyways,” he says. 

Your eyes spark with panic as he goes to stand, so he sits, and he chews his cheek raw while you struggle into fresh clothes. 

A knock on the door startles you both. “Hello? Y/N? Steve?” Robin's scratchy voice echoes through the door. Her excitement is unmissable. 

“Yeah, Rob!” 

She opens the door carefully but enters the room less so. There's so much stuff hanging from the crooks of her elbows she can hardly carry it. “Hey! Oh my god, hey! Is that her? Of course it's her. Is she okay? She's okay, are you okay?” She turns her gaze on you. “Holy shit, do you need help?” 

You've only got a couple of buttons to do and the waistband of your pants to cinch, but Robin immediately drops all of her things to help you finish. 

Steve shares his first private smile with his very first daughter. “She's not always like this,” he murmurs. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin asks. She sounds treacherously concerned and overwhelmingly happy. 

“Maybe she is,” he adds. 

“I'm okay, Robin,” you say, reaching for her hand. “It hurts worse than people say. But it's over now.” 

“Thank Jesus!” Robin finishes her buttoning and ties a deft bow with your drawstrings. “Come on, mom, let's get you back to bed. Jesus, Steve, you couldn't have helped her?” She's mostly kidding. 

Steve lifts Avery. “She put me on baby duty.” 

Robin almost trips over her bags trying to get to him. “Steve,” she says, as though this one word should be enough for him, planting herself by his side. It's been a long time since he bothered trying to put boundaries between them, he doesn't even want them, he's proud as he can be as he lowers the baby to give his best friend ample view of her. While she looks, he lifts his gaze to you where you limp back to the bed. 

“Oh,” he says, “Rob, are you ready to hold her? Meet your niece. Arms out.” 

Robin stammers but holds her arms out. Steve transfers Avery in her swaddle carefully as careful can be. “Hold her head, okay? Lean back.” 

“Wait, you made this look easy. Steve–” 

Your eyes are wide as he stands and turns away from the bed. “Steve,” you say. 

“No more saying my name in this room, it's banned,” he says, putting his hands under your arms to make sure you're steady where you stand. You stop walking, pain in the line of your mouth. “Come on, honey. Let's get you back to bed.” 

Your eyes shine with tears, but you don't cry. You use his arms to push back up onto the bed and shuffle slowly into position before you put your arms out. He leans in for a hug. 

“Oh, Steve,” you say with a laugh, all soft and warm, having found the only exception to his new rule, “I wanted the baby back, honey.” 

“I know,” he sighs. 

[leavemurph]

sometimes i get so upset thinking what if hotch wants to come back cuz like jack’s in college and he’s home all the time, he’d need something to do?? and the fact that the writers still didn’t use this one excuse to bring him back to emily is just… ugh.

a few comments here and there about his life while he was gone, laughing with old friends who are still friends no matter what, teasing him cuz he tries to call his son and gets constantly ignored with the “dad, please, i’m busy”. then jj’s like, oh yeah, i get it, teenagers gonna be teenagers, and emily’s kinda feeling left out? but it’s cool. it’s just that time’s passing and she doesn’t have that for herself, which is strange, since she always thought she would. but then again, time sucks, this job takes so much, and yeah, maybe it’s too late.

no kids, nope, well, she’s busy. really busy. this thought keeps looping in her head, and a few situations end up making her rethink it, over and over—did i do this on purpose? did i avoid making any decisions that could’ve taken me down that path because, deep down, i felt like i didn’t deserve it?

hotch finds her in her office, asks if she’s okay because she seems so distracted all the time. of course, she doesn’t say anything, she’s not big on venting, but she does ask him if he ever thought about what it’d be like if they’d made it differently all those years ago.

he’s… confused at first, mostly because he’s not sure if this is her way of allowing them to talk about all the stuff they never said, couldn’t say, or were too scared to. so he asks, what do you mean? emily’s tired of dancing around it, they’re older now, more mature, there’s not much left to lose, so she just says, “you knew how i felt about you. that’s fine. i know how you felt about me.” hotch gives her a small smile, and she gets it. she really gets it. “i can’t believe i even considered going with you. like, a part of me really wanted to, so badly. i talked to you about work every day, told you things you didn’t even want to hear, didn’t care. and i kept hoping, hoping that one day you’d ask me to, or even just… i don’t know, say you missed me. my god, i would’ve dropped everything, run off into witness protection. with you. with jack.”

“emily.” hotch looks genuinely surprised, and maybe it’s because she’s holding back tears. “you had all these things here, things you built for yourself. look at you now.”

“right,” she mutters, waving it off with a comment about their previous case, because why get into that now? it’s a waste of time.

aaand…

they kiss for the first time on new year’s, in their natural habitat—at work, of course. everyone but emily is ready to party, but at midnight, hotch brings her a glass of champagne while she’s scribbling reports. she looks up and says, “are you guys going out? i’m gonna have to pass this time, i’m so busy,”

and he laughs because, “you sound like me ten years ago,” while gently coaxing her out of her chair. she tries not to freak out, laughing nervously, rolling her neck to release the tension from hours of sitting and staring at fine print. hotch brushes her hair back, studying her face, and she lets out a deep sigh, touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth. “a little nervous?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips. “still the same tell, huh? some things never change.”

“i really can’t go with you guys,” she insists, eying his lips, almost on the edge of feeling butterflies for the first time in over a decade.

“heard you the first time. so i’ll be your first new year’s kiss, and then i’ll get out of your hair.” okay, butterflies all the way down to her toes. she barely nods, just a slight movement, before he leans in and kisses her. it’s the best kiss she’s ever had, hands down. my god, she can’t stop thinking about it.

he literally left her to do her job and went out partying with the others. he’s learned to live more than she has over these years, and honestly, it’s not bad. it’s not terrible. it’s nice.

their relationship grows through little moments scattered throughout the season—tender touches, good morning kisses, emily jumping out of bed late, the looks they share. they talk about the moments they’ve lived, the times they wanted to say something and didn’t, or do something and held back. “do you remember that time we…?”

the first time emily faces any life-threatening situation, hotch’s immediate reaction when he sees her getting her cheek stitched up is: “that was really brave of you to do.”

“hotch,” she winces, frowning through the pain as the stitch hurts. “really?”

“okay, what, are you out of your mind? didn’t you wait for backup?”

“that’s much better, thank you. and, no, it’d be too late.”

“almost died,” he crosses his arms, and emily is doing everything she can not to bite her nails. “i’m gonna need you to marry me. is that okay with you?”

and emily’s like, “what?”

“you heard me right. i want you, and i want to do this, all of it. you’ve always wanted kids, and you’ve been thinking about it, don’t lie to me, and it’s not too late. and we’re gonna do it, you and i. there’s surrogacy, adoption… we can—”

yeahh…. so.

gimme gimme.

bye.

[svt-kiki]

　✶　DROWN TO DEPTH　｡｡　𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌

　💿 ⌇ 𝖠𝗇 𝖮𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗋𝖺.　

2020.　세븐틴 × kiki ( fem!oc )　wc.　4.9k　𝗋𝖾𝗊 !

cw.　mentions of depression / anxiety / seungcheol & jeonghan’s hiatus and other members unwell, kiki basically neglecting her mental health, implies slight memory impairment cause of stress

an.　i’ve got scenario reqs for kiki’s hiatus and sickfic ages ago so just combined them both, sorry to take so long :’) + tried to do with all members but run out energy 😔 hope u enjoy !

REBLOG & FEEDBACK are always welcomed 🪽 ͗ ͗

kiki hasn’t been remembering the last time she slept and woke up without any worries. 

it had to be refreshing morning. despite the keen and crisp air, clean linens — white sheets and pillows trying to swallow her mind and motivation. 

kiki kept staring at the ceiling of the hotel room for a while. she hardly could gather the thoughts. what i should do today? rehearsal, of course. re-check the formation and share the changes with staffs and members. everyone already got used to the 12 or 13 members version since seungcheol and jeonghan’s hiatus, but even that fact made her stomach heavier. besides, they all needed to make sure which formation depended on the members’ condition each day. of course, kiki never mind the change itself. but she hates how they need to think about “are boys gonna be okay today? or someone became sick and couldn’t attend the stage, again?” every time before the stage these days. kiki never thought the tour can be this harsh — or, more precisely, cruel. 

she hates the boys’ suffer way more than the burden of herself. she hates how more than half of them need to go through illness at least once during this tour. the schedule is killing them, she thought. they experienced something like this before on their early career days, murder-ish busyness. but this time it’s different, somehow. 

she doesn’t feel well. 

“kiki?” seungcheol called her name when he saw the girl came out from the hotel room as if she’s crawling out. “good mor- are you okay?”

her eyes. the light in her eyes, it’s just so dull and blurred now. she slowly stared at him, looked like forgot how to say “good morning,” and it made seungcheol terrified. 

“cheol,” she mumbled. “hi, i just… i need to go to the meeting.”

“what meeting?”

“today’s concert, of course.”

“…we don’t have a concert today.”

at that moment — he knew. this is so fucking wrong. like everyone kinda notice something is off with her recently, or this past months. but it was unclear, her situation was vague, got lost in the ongoing schedules like a broken machine. 

“what do you mean we don’t have?” she was genuinely confused. “wait, today’s... 23rd, right?”

“no,” seungcheol felt dizzy, noticing that sounded more like her symptoms. “today is 24th of january. you don’t remember we finished north america tour yesterday?”

“i-“ she frowned the eyebrows. “wait, really? oh i... i must’ve mistaken. sorry,” then kiki finally noticed what his face looked like. “don’t worry. i’m just a bit, tired, you know...” she waved his gaze away from her. “so it means i still can sleep?”

“uh, yeah, i think so. about couple hours... hyelim nim said we’ll set off at 11 or something yesterday.”

she just nodded and head back to the room. “see you later.”

seungcheol just kept staring at the door for a second, tried to find clue to this situation on there, which was never founded. 

DAY 1 - 8:11 AM

fuck, she thought. 

kiki gazed down at the lockscreen. january 24th, 8:11 am. she literally overlooked. her body was absorbed to the bed, once again. 

the thing — her memory being fucked up, happening time to time these days. mostly it was only couple minutes or little more. her mind suddenly went blank and couldn’t remember what she was doing last minutes. 

the gravity is like ten times stronger then usual. feels like someone trying to glue herself onto the ground.

knock knock, the door made small sounds. seungcheol popped out his head from the crack. “may i come in?”

kiki didn’t answered but he already slided himself into the room. the curtain was almost closed and the slit of the light was silently thrown on the floor to the bed. 

“you feel tired?”

“yes... a little,”

he then frowned his eyebrows, hovered over her. “you look... so pale.” his thumb caressed her cheek down to the jaw. kiki was just blinking slowly, her eyes didn’t follow his movements, just staring at his tip of nose with a fainted gaze. her cheek got all thin, the rosy hue something reminded the soft shade of sunsets that usually stayed there was now covered with frosty snow color. “i’m fine.” she repeated the words like the broken records. 

at this point, it was his feelings that had a fever. she had always been like this. always pushed herself too much. usually kiki knew how to hang in there, tip toeing around the last borderline but never across because that would lead to the exact outcome she didn’t want to be. she knew how to take care herself and control the condition. 

but not this time. everyone sensed something was going wrong. she was like a ghost in outside of the stage these days. her presence was pretty much stale and the face sagged. so unlike her. the cloud of fatigue took the ray of sunshine away. “do you sleep properly these days?”

“not much, like everyone else. all the kids had poor health during this tour. i’m no special, you know it.”

“kiki,” seungcheol couldn’t help but started to feel irritate. “you should stop thinking like that. you are no special, that’s why you also feel unwell if you couldn’t rest properly. that’s natural, nothing strange. you need to take rest.”

“that’s why i’m lying on the bed. can’t you see?”

“kyoka.” she pressed her lips tightly. the way he called, how the tone of his voice echoed through her head, this was the way seungcheol used when he need to point out something to her seriously. kiki also knew she should do something with current situation. but the nonstop cycle of transfers, meetings, adjustments and performances just cornered her until she loose her mind underwater. of course she poured her soul into each lives. yet the pillar of her heart snapped as soon as she got off from the stage these days. the mind started to become numb. the bones and nerves signaled pain but ignored it.

he laid down on her next. the body started losing the tension after seungcheol tried to hug and rub her upper body softly. kiki felt asleep shortly after. seungcheol kept staring at her face for a while before woke up and silently left her room. 

he then knocked the room which was not kiki’s, or even his. park minji, the manager who is close to kiki appeared from behind the door. 

“coups? good morning... what’s wrong?”

“kiki,” he said in rush, continued before minji tilted her head in confusion. “i think she needs to take a rest, a day or maybe more before get on the plane.” for a moment, he thought she might throw a confusing look as if trying to say “what are you talking about?” but unlike his bitter imagination, minji’s eyes took on the seriousness immediately. “is she alright?” 

“kinda, only for now in my opinion.”

seems like the woman gathering the thoughts quickly before leaning towards the door frame. she said, “you think so? she wore me down few days ago to accomplish this tour instead she’ll cut off some tasks and get some rest after we back to korea, i didn’t have a choice but agree since she insisted so firmly,” minji bit her lip out of regrets, thinking she shouldn’t listen to her for this time. 

“she was just trying to head for the meetings, thought today is 23rd. her mind seemed so woolly, it doesn’t look like she’s okay at all, noona.” seungcheol then added shortly after, “also i think she will get a fever within a day. i kinda aware about these things, hers.”

she then opened the door wider to let him in before make a phone calls. “hi, sorry if i wake you up. no, not that... actually it’s about kiki — yes, i was thinking, maybe we can delay her flight? like couple days, hopefully… no, not yet for now but... yes, likely. uh huh, yes, of course. thank you… oh i can do that, yeah. no problem. okay, later.”

she held the gaze of him. “i just called the chief, they will search the flight and book some doctor’s appointments. i will contact to other members.”

“let’s call them in here. i think they want to discuss what we will do.”

“what you mean discuss?” she replied with a searching tone this time around.

“you’ll see.” he quietly said. “trust me for this, noona.”

after about ten minutes, all other band members gathered in minji’s room. most of them had been half asleep, closing their eyes or rubbing their faces trying to rid off the drowsiness until they heard it’s a serious matter of kiki. 

“what’s wrong with her?” mingyu broke the ice while bending his brows. “is everything okay?”

“she seems bit unwell, actually.” minji replied with a perfectly controlled voice tone. “we discussed maybe it’s better for her to take some rests before gets on a plane to korea.”

“okay,” seungkwan nodded with a concerned face. “are there some schedules for her this week? right after the supposed return to korea?”

“not that much. i will adjust that so it won’t affect others schedules or anything, so don’t worry.”

“i’m not worrying about ours... i thought she will feel responsible more then she should if such things happened,” he said in a bit of defense.

“i know seungkwanna,” jeonghan said with a soften voice. “how’s she doing?”

“she woke up an hour ago then fell back asleep now,” seungcheol answered.

“we also talked that it’s better for her to get doctor’s visit. i would keep in touch and update the info if there’s anything to let you know.”

“i think it’s a good idea,” minghao stated while playing with his sleeves. his face was almost covered fully by the hoodie but the tranquil voice somehow reached well to everyone’s ears. “she seemed so tired these days. i think we all bit frustrated because she obviously need some rests if you see her on outside of the stage, yet she do the concert perfectly every time, so we can’t find the excuse to persuade her to get some rest.”

“yeah,” jun nodded. “this tour is hard for all, and some of us couldn’t attend the stage almost each nights by turns. but it doesn’t mean the one who gets on the stage isn’t exhausted.”

jun and minghao, add joshua, the foreigner line — their bond and connections are always special. they shared the obstacle and struggles only they can share with each other. usually they weren’t the most copious talker among the group, but when it comes to kiki, the case would be different. 

“it’s always the hardest thing to tell her to back off from the job,” chan lower his gaze while scratching the back of his neck. “no doubt,” vernon let out the slightest chuckle.

“right? like, she kinda pushing workaholic agenda too much!” chan responded and everyone couldn’t hold their laugh that he sounded like so overwhelmed from bottom of his heart.

“alright, alright,” soonyoung gestured to calm everyone while trying to stop smiling since its a serious discussion. “now, what we gonna do?”

“you guys will back to korea following the original schedule,” minji answered, shooting a questioning look to the boys. “what do you even mean by that?”

“you mean... leave kiki in here? alone?” joshua asked quietly. minji tried to say yes — then realized. her gaze went back to seungcheol. he was just staring back at her, telling “i told you.” without using words. 

“but that’s... she’s sick, right?” mingyu tilted his head with confusion. “we can’t leave her.”

“of course it’s not entirely alone,” minji couldn’t help but let out the tiny sigh, brushing her hair back. “some of staffs including me will stay with her, make sure she will be okay.” 

a few moments of silent. the boys exchanged gaze with each other. they ain’t say a thing but the lack of words were speaking their claims more than anything. at that moment, the boy with a glass, who had been remained silent since he entered this room opened his mouth. “we don’t have schedules for few days after we head back to korea.” wonwoo said while turning off his phone, finished checking the group’s schedules. “we can stay with her.”

minji was both stressed and felt in her heart at the same time. the way these kids care and love each other — no matter how many years has passed, their bond grow stronger day by day. they are so sincere. however, if this was all about the ask that didn’t sound like reasonable at all, it’s a different story. 

“kids,” she gave up to hide the distress at this point. “i get you guys care about kiki so deeply, but think straight. we can’t just delay everyone’s flights for this. it’s unrealistic and preposterous. you know that, right?”

“the staffs and everyone can back to korea on schedule. just we will go back with kiki and the staffs, noona, the people who will stay with her. it’s not that crazy.” mingyu insisted, before jeonghan supported his opinion as “that’s right. we can’t take care of ourself. it will make us sick if we leave her alone while she’s in suffer.”

minji almost had done the face palm. it’s hard to say no when mingyu and jeonghan team up like this. they were both clever and smartest in seventeen. if the opponent was cold hearted cunning topsiders, it would be different. but minji also loves them after all. it’s hard for her when she can be in their shoes. besides — minji’s eyes went back to seungcheol again. he’s not even coming out yet. 

she let out a not-so-small-sigh as if waving the white flag. “alright, i’ll discuss with the chief first. but you guys better start packing the luggage since this isn’t the final decision yet, understand?”

“of course noona,” seungcheol grinned that looked like a smirk. “we will be a good boy...”

DAY 1 - 10:56 AM

she woke up from a cold chill. kiki tried to shook her head and wave off a bad feeling before groped the phone and check what time is it.  

“you awake?”

she slowly tuned at the someone’s voice from the behind. 

“jihoona...?” her voice was cracking, raspy. “what time is it? what about the flight?” jihoon put a restraining hand to her. “there’s a delay on the flight. we will stay here two more days, so don’t worry.” 

she then loosen the tension of her body, but the eyes still shooting him with a questioning look. “really? the weather looks fine tho,” he just shrugged as if didn’t matter. “i don’t know the details. maybe there has some trouble on the plane or something, i don’t know.”

“if that’s so...” her body sunk down to the mattress. “did you eat anything today?”

“not yet. some of them went down to the restaurant a while ago but i wasn’t hungry so i thought wait for you then share some meals.”

“i don’t feel to eat anything right now, you should eat something.”

“then i’ll eat here. is that okay?”

kiki blinked slowly, bit puzzled at the same time. he was kinda independent personality among the boys, had no problem with eat alone or spending time by himself in general. the way he asked for permission carefully like this was tend to irregular, whereas it’s not that strange to have the meals together. 

“sure, be my company.” she slowly gets up on the bed. she was listening absently to he ordering the room service over the phone. after hang up the call, jihoon looked back her and said, “could you stay up until 12 AM? minji noona said they booked the doctor’s appointment at that time.”

“i think so,” she felt half drowsy but nodded at his words. they heard the door chime shortly after, jihoon let the staff in and placed the table near by the bed. 

“there’s tomato soup in the menu so i ordered with some breads alongside the dishes for mine.” jihoon said as glancing up at her. “still not hungry?”

no, she’s not hungry yet, even after smelled the dishes in the air. but her brain started working finally, lead her to sit on the edge of the bed to eat, thought she should eat to take some nourishment since she barely eating anything from last night. 

“thanks. i’ll eat some,”

“good. you can have a bite from mine if you want.”

shortly after she started to take a sip from the spoon, someone knocked the door and vernon poked his head out from the door. 

“hey noona,” the younger boy slipped himself into the room. “how you feeling?

at this point, she finally realized her condition was a bit serious than she thought, in a bad way. the contrast of both jihoon and vernon made into actions about their worrying like this is far more than usual — not that they’re cold hearted person or anything, it’s about how different the way they cared about her. 

“i’m fine.”

but vernon walked straight up to her as if he didn’t heard the words. he gently placed a hand on her forehead and said, “bit feverish.”

“no i don’t.”

“noona, come on now.” the boy with a bit messy brown hair clearly trying to soothe her now. “you are not dumb enough to be unaware for your own conditions. just gave up and admit you don’t feel well. let us spoil you for once.”

“but you guys are tired too, why only i can stay still in bed like this,”

“we will also stay in bed and rest as much as we want, we don’t miss the opportunity. don’t worry about that.”

he smirked with a small hint of concern. 

“...okay.”

they all knew she wasn’t fully convinced. but for now this is the small victory. 

“just stop thinking about the job, okay?”

“i’ll try.”

“fine.”

he then turned his face to jihoon. “can we talk later about the track?”

“yeah, sure.”

DAY 1 - 1:06 PM

after the doctor’s examination, she was diagnosed as poor physical condition due to overwork and overuse of the autonomic nervous system. they strictly told them to get some proper rest, hopefully a week long.

“no,” kiki opposed weakly after received an i.v. “there’s so many things to do after i back to korea. we need to discuss the final design for the physical album package and edit new music video, also —”

“yes.” minji retorted decidedly, almost scolding her. “i’ll contract the team and adjust the work plan. they’ll understand. this is nonnegotiable.”

kiki didn’t said back anything, but that made joshua a bit anxious. he was there for the whole process with her. he could sense she felt a slight despair, thought she let others down, useless. 

“would you stay with her for a while?”

“yeah, no problem.”

the doctor also warned, she might have some fever tonight since i.v. won’t help to reduce the psychological stress. “i’m sick of this,” she murmured in the room minji left. they both got a whiff of her cologne in arid air of hotel. 

“you blaming yourself without any good reasons,” joshua tried to make a serious pitch. “it’s hard to see like you — not about the physical conditions, but the way you punish yourself like this. don’t you get how it hurts us? it’s a bit too much, kit-kat,” 

joshua’s voice, mixture of breaths — she covered her face with palms. “i know, i know i need to stop — but it’s hard. it’s getting harder day by day recently. why i can’t stop this? this — fucked up cycles?”

“you really do need a rest,” he caressed her bangs as she bit own lips in bitter feelings. 

“maybe i do.”

DAY 1 - 3:27 PM

“how’s noona?” soonyoung asked mingyu in the hallway. he was just getting out from her room. “it’s still low grade... but i think it’ll get more higher.”

“right... does she sleeping?”

“kinda? i mean, she just fell into. we need to cool her body and... keep hydrated if she woke again.”

“uh huh,” he nodded to mingyu but his mind was flying around her, and mingyu got that too. 

“it reminds the old days, isn’t it?” mingyu turned a bitter smile to the main dancer. his physique was nothing but masculine, strong and sturdy, but it was all facade now. almost had a vision of the dog ears hanging down on his head in soonyoung’s eyes. “if you think about, noona was always the one being cared for, not the one being taken care of, you know? it was pretty rare to see she being sick... how can that happen? everyone can get sick, that’s normal.”

“she’s very stoic... must’ve controlling her condition pretty carefully,” soonyoung leaned on the wall. 

“she won’t be like this at first place if she’s not this exhausted. she’ll let herself be sick so that she can get better. it’s... different, you know,” mini nodded, bites his lips. “i can’t get off the idea that we... might let be too late this time, she’s way beyond her limits.”

although the whole situation’s like the runaway train with a broken brake — no one knows how to stop it, able to do nothing but just watching it falls out from the cliff. all the boys felt bitter and responsible for let this happen, even it has nothing to do with them. 

DAY 1 - 6:07 PM

“kiki?” jeonghan’s voice tickles her ears. “you awake?” she still closing her eyes, unable to respond because not awake that much, but she can feel he bends over to check her expression because of the flickering of lights that she can sense through her eyelids. 

“how’s she?” it was minghao’s voice. then she finds out some coldness is on her forehead. “hao...?” kiki coughs but tries to voicing out her mind as much as possible. “hanni? is that you?” 

“yes kyo,” jeonghan’s sweet voice really works to calm her heart. limbs growing heavy. the whole vines and bones aching. the head is pounding. her whole body feels like burning, but kiki somehow felt peace. perhaps she finally accepts that she’s not well, not at all. “how you feeling?”

“cold...” she barely thought, so even herself surprised that she actually felt that way as she uttered. it feels like freezing. “i’m so cold.” she opened up her eyes. minghao wipes sweats out from her neck. “but it’s so hot,”

“i know noona. come on, drink some water,” he carefully hands the opened bottle. “you sweating a lot.”

it feels like a thousand years ago since last time she drink the water. the cold liquid flows down to her body through the throat, feels so nice. “i know you don’t feel well, but you need to eat something to take the pill. we bought fruit jelly, pudding, instant noodle, soup and popsicle.” 

“that’s many,” she laughed weakly. her cheeks are like a tomato to boys’ eyes. she must feels terrible, but somehow it also looked like kiki relieves at the same time. “maybe... maybe the soup, or jelly.”

“got it, i’ll bring to you.” minghao left from her sight. she slowly turned to jeonghan, who checking the cooling gel sheet mingyu miraculously found on the drugstore in neighbor is still cold enough. “you are sweating. maybe it’s good for you to wipe with clean towel and change some clothes now, so that back to sleep comfortable. you think you can do it?” 

“maybe,” she said before jeonghan nodded as “good.” 

minghao went back to her shortly after. jeonghan helped her to wake up her upper body, lean on the head board. she didn’t understand that much taste of consommé, but just eat something felt like a most exhausting labor. after she ate half of the orange jelly, minghao carefully observed she swallows every pills. 

“oh, and don’t forget to take a temperature.” jeonghan suddenly realized both completely forgot about that, said with a surprise how dumb they could be. “huh, 38.9 degree... it seems like not the highest.”

“yeah, maybe it’ll get more higher.” kiki nodded, said, “but once hit the highest, then it will go down eventually. just need a bit more patience.” minghao bites his lower lip. why she doesn’t stop to sooth us even like this time? are we that unreliable? 

“myeongho ya.” jeonghan gently calls the dancer boy. “it’s her body, she knows well about it. i was thinking maybe she can clean her body and change, you know?” minghao then realized it’s his consideration. “ah, yes... i’ll tell noona’s conditions to others.” 

“...i felt i did something wrong,” kiki murmured after he left the room. her speak was fuzzy, but the senses still sharp. jeonghan giggled about that, answered, “it’s okay, you are just being noona. now stop thinking and start changing, idiot.”

DAY 2 - 01:27 AM

something nice woke up kiki’s mind, brought it to the surface. something calm, soothing, make her feel like a home.

it’s a smell of the lavender. 

her world is dark, almost unable to see what’s in the room. she fumbled for her phone. it tells the date had changed already. after almost 7 hours of sleep, she feels somewhat better. there’s still dull weights on her core, but feels a step ahead to okay. then kiki saw the steam was billowing out of the white machine, found out that was what the nice aroma was all about. 

the door had opened with small noises. it was jun. “oh, sorry. did i wake you up?” 

“no, i just got awake. nice smell,” she waved her hand toward the humidifier. “is that you?”

“kinda. it was vernon who made a call to the reception.” he shrugged as if someone found the prank he had planned. jun reached kiki’s forehead, found out her gel sheet is clearly not cool enough and the tips are all dry. “i’ll grab another one. you want something?”

“uhm, something hot drink would be nice, if you have some,”

“okay, i’ll find something.”

it was a chamomile tea he brought to her shortly after, but the scent was more sweet than just tea. “i called my mom after the dinner, asked her how to make honey tea she usually made for me or my brother when we got sick. i couldn’t recreate perfectly tho — like it’s a teabag but, yeah.”

“wow... thank you. smells so nice,” she could let out a small smile like a sigh. the aroma of herb and honey permeated into her exhausted spine. the moment like this, it felt ages ago that she last spent time with them like this outside of schedules. just sits down and talking, no any stress or extra. 

it hits different. 

the taste of the honey melted on her tongue. it nothing but helped to ease the ick in her throat which was sitting through the entire day since the morning. kiki feels like she’s in the bottom of deep, deep hole. all black and the dark clings all the way to her shoulders to limbs. feels helpless. 

“still awake?” she asks jun, tries to hide the sniffle and teary eyes. “well, yep. the game i recently found — it’s really fun,” he rambles as scratching the back of head, knowing kiki isn’t always happy about her stay awake in late night because of the game. she never directly pointed out tho — because both knew it was kinda too much for the adult young man who is completely responsible for his own actions — but they also knew, sometimes caring and love could be a bit annoying. 

however, unlike his prediction, she just hummed with a smile at his guilty pleasure. he added in haste, “i know. i’ll make sure i won’t be too late.” then kiki shook her head slowly. “i am not some strict teacher, junnie. today is also off, right? you can stay late and oversleep sometimes. it’s fine.” 

jun nodded, but with a slight taste of awkwardness, not gonna lie. he tucked her hair behind the ears, stared at a chin, which looked like little too tighten. “you really should eat a lot after you get better... look boney, not good.”

“i miss your tomato and egg. would you make for me? after we back to korea?”

“anytime.”

he took the empty cup from her with himself. the nice warm tea started to make a nice effect on kiki’s body. her spine feels toasty, the mind starts melting on the pillow. she crawls herself between the sheets before let a small yawn escape from her. but when she starts dozing off, someone slips in oneself through the door — joshua brought the card key of her room and handed to boys in the morning. 

“junnie…?” she murmured under the sleepiness. “it’s me, noona.” soft, low voice whispered into her ear. “can i cuddle with you?”

“sure,” kiki lifted the sheets for him. “come in, wonwoo.”

he slid himself next to her. it feels secure when wonwoo buries his nose on her neck, limbs entangles her. his temperature was usually not that high, so it was nice to have his hand — not cold but not too hot that made her sweat neither — on her hand, holding loose, caressed back of her hand.  

“good night, wonwoo.” she whispered softly before she fell asleep. 

“good night, noona.” wonwoo hummed. “have a nice dream.”

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

(    tag list    )   :   @smh-anon @jennwonwoo @angie-x3 @scarlet789

[writers-hes]

Eye of the Storm

SERIES SUMMARY: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

Chapter summary: Everything unfolds and you were the eye of the storm.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

LONDON, 1919

Something clicked in Simon after Johnny’s funeral. He restricted you more than he did before. He was more forceful sometimes. You knew, because you braced yourself to face it everyday. 1…2…3…4…5… You had to count to ten every time he got mad. How many seconds will it take for him to lay his hand on you again? 

“From now on, you can’t come to the garden without asking for my permission.” When he saw your mouth open to protest, he added, “Don’t push it. You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to go.”

“O-of course, Simon,” you tearfully obliged. “I— “

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Good. Now, come here, darling. You know I can’t stand when you’re mad at me,” he coos and you oblige, finding yourself perched on his lap. You hated this; hated how he was treating you. Hated how his arms immediately wrapped around you. “I know that you’re mad at me,” he starts. “Especially with everything that’s been going on but I’m only worried that Tommy Shelby’s gonna take you.” 

“He’s not…you don’t have to worry about him, Simon,” you whispered. “I didn’t know that he was alive,”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But do you know where that puts me? You’ve been his friend since before the war and I’m not anything like him. It’s not you I don’t trust…it’s him. He’s a Birmingham rat with no respect. I want you safe. I want you here. If you behave yourself, then I’d slowly give you everything back. Hm?” he asked. 

You nodded, the small smile on your face could never convey how cold you felt.

Simon knows that what he’s doing is wrong but what else can be done? Tommy Shelby was back and there was no way he’s giving you up to some Birmingham gangster. It was just impossible to do so. It would hurt him and his ego. He’s never been declined of something before as an only child of two rich parents. If he’d be declined of your love and affection, he will burn the world and everything in it. You were the only thing he truly wanted and if it came to you, he’d do everything to never let you out of his grasp.

When he first seeked you out, you were eighteen. He was already enamoured, watching you from afar. You laughed with the girls and stayed with Big Johnny most nights. You were innocent, a fragile little thing that he wanted—needed. You listened to him and even treated him as a friend. It was different from how the girls treated him there. The girls would ask for gifts, and he bought them but you…you dressed up immediately after every visit. You’d smile at him before leaving, going to Johnny for your nightly lessons. He sometimes went to visit you just to talk. You were the most intelligent girl there and he always looked forward to seeing you again. If you slip away from his grasp, he wouldn’t know what to do. It’s why he bought you that house; why he gave you jewellery even before you were married. He wanted you to be reminded of him everywhere you went. It was dangerous dealing with your past—he knew that; but danger was something he’d walk on if it came to having you.  

“Darling, I was thinking…it’s been a while since we last went on a holiday. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. Reports of Tommy Shelby in London reached him. There was no way he’d let you meet again.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Can we go to New York?” you asked. “I’ve been wanting to go to Manhattan this time of year.”

“Yeah?” he asked. The farther you were from Tommy, the better. “Then, I’ll have things arranged and I’ll let you know, okay?” he kisses your temple as he passes by.

“Of course,” you replied. Your face seems so unreadable these days, but it always was. Can Tommy Shelby decipher the emotions written on your face or does he have to guess too? He knows that you were still keeping things away from him…knows that you’re not being fully honest with how you feel and who Tommy Shelby was in your life. He was fine not knowing as long as you were his. 

Irrevocably and utterly his. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

“You know, Tommy,” you said. “When I was young, my mother told me that there were other lands outside England…outside Birmingham that isn’t London,” you said. Your savings could take you to London, but you could never seem to find the time. Simon has been visiting you more and the owner of the brothel ordered you to always be available for him because of how much he spends on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to go to London at least once. Before I die, I want to go to London,” 

“I’ll take you to London,” he says, voice gruff from the cigarettes. “I’ll take you to London and I’ll take you to the whole world,” 

“You will?” you asked. You were always told by your customers that they’ll take you here and there…but with Tommy, you knew that what he was saying was true. He never liked to break his promises. “If you’ll take me there, I better save up money because there’s no way I’m letting you spend a fortune on me.”

“I’ll take you to New York, Paris, and all the major cities. We’ll see them for the first time together,” he promises.

“Together?”

“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”

“Of course, we will. Together,”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

Grace has long been gone since Polly revealed the truth to her. Was it mad that Tommy didn’t feel any morsel of anything? He didn’t care if she betrayed him; didn’t care if she loved him…if anything, she was better off gone. It just…unsettled him. Was that the right word? He never liked Grace, but she was a good enough replacement for you in the meantime. She was good enough, but she wasn’t you, no matter how much Tommy forced himself to convince everyone that she was good enough. 

He didn’t even think of lighting a cigarette for her departure. These guns, Billy Kimber…his ambitions of wealth, power, and control were too consuming for him to think of anything else. Too consuming that he knew that all ambition all boiled down to you, that mansion, horses, and a garden. He looks at the toy horses you’ve given him as children. It’s been showing signs of wear; time has the power to tear the edges of something precious so easily. Tommy liked thumbing the wooden toy to keep him afloat sometimes. It reminded him of peace, of home, of you. 

“Tommy,” Polly called. Her conscience has been nagging her, steaming out of pores ever since Tommy showed her how much you meant to him. It was never easy remembering Tommy on the floor, so weak; so defeated. It was never easy to remember that she was the reason why Tommy was miserable. She took you away from him. She decided then, that she’d do everything in her power to help her grieving nephew. If your presence could show her any semblance of Tommy before the war, she’d take it. Maybe she should feel bad for burdening you with that weight on your shoulders, but she knew that you did it so naturally…so genuinely. She relieves herself of thinking that you and Tommy needed each other; so much so that the world she knows now will simply reintegrate. You were the glue that binds Tommy; the melted gold that holds the pieces back together. Without you, Tommy was broken—alone. She’d never want that for him. She’ll never want to see him like that again. 

NEW YORK, 1920

When you told Simon that you wanted to go to New York, you didn’t know that you’ll be staying there indefinitely. You just said that to appease him, really. He made sure that all of your belongings were kept and taken to America. What didn’t fit, you’d buy. He was more lenient here. He’d let you go, and he was back to the Simon you’ve always known. 

“You’ve been married for years,” his attorney’s wife recalls. “Where are the little Simons running around?”

“Oh-“ you looked at Simon to help you out, but he was too engrossed in his conversation with the lawyer to notice. “We’re still enjoying our marriage. Just the two of us,” you lied. “We like to travel and we’ll feel bad if we just…leave the child back home,”

“But you’re in New York,” she says, like it mattered. “Surely, you’ve been trying?”

“No, not really. Simon wants our child to be born in England.” you said.

“You’re not getting any younger, dear,” she says. “When I was around your age, I already had two children. I say, it’s better to start a family early,”

That night, when you were removing your jewellery, Simon laid his hand on your shoulder. He’s gentle in New York. Your shoulder used to feel heavy in London. He started kissing your neck and you allowed him.

“An heir wouldn’t be so bad,” he rasps, nibbling on your ear. “Maybe soon…I want to have you all to myself first. Don’t want you to love me any less because of a child,”

“I wouldn’t love you any less, Simon.” you smiled at him. You didn’t want to bear his heir but if he was convinced that you’ll love him less because of a child, you’ll string him along. 

“I know but then, you’d dote on him and be all…” he drones on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone else. It can just be the two of us forever.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“Tommy!” you called, walking through the muddy soil of the stables that he worked in. He took care of horses sometimes, to earn some extra money. It paid well and he was surrounded with the calmness of the horses that he took care of. He vowed to have his own stables filled with his own horses in the future. Maybe it was pathetic but Tommy was envious seeing things that he wanted being taken advantage of. He knew how to take care of horses but he never owned them. His dreams were so close yet so far. He was brushing the coat of one of the horses when you came barrelling towards him.

“Tommy!” you called again. “I’m free now. Let’s go!”

“Wait, wait,” he laughs, making sure that the horse—he secretly named him Hayday because the horse had a coat in the color of hay. He only told you that though. “Alright, Hayday. Let’s get you back to your stable,” he tells the horse, petting its snout. You smiled at his softness, following them quietly. You let Tommy do his job maintaining Hayday for a while, smiling widely when you saw him coming towards you. He was rubbing his face with water to get rid of today. 

“I smell.” he frowned, looking through his ragged satchel for a towel or an extra shirt. “Let me just…” he says, taking the shirt from the bag and then giving the bag to you. He turns around to remove his dirty shirt, tucking it between his legs and then changing into the cleaner shirt. You watched the way his back muscles flexed—working as a mechanic and carrying whatever he does was paying off. The clean shirt clung onto his figure nicely…you looked away before he could catch you staring though. “Thanks for keeping my bag,” he says, taking his bag from you. He hangs it on his shoulder and then links his arm with yours. You couldn't see the smirk that played in his lips.  “Where are we going again?”

“Remember, I told you to come with me to the market to buy something?” you asked him. He nods, letting you lead the way to the market. “Well, I’m free now. Let’s go.”

Tommy tells you all about his day on the way to the market, not knowing anything of what you had planned. It was his birthday last month, but you weren’t able to save up enough money for his gift because of a repair in your home. You drag him all the way to where the more expensive shops were, Tommy’s brows furrowing. 

“Here,” you said, stopping at a jeweller. You take him inside and he lets you. 

“What are we doing here— “

“Look!” you said, pointing at the gold signet ring on display. You leave Tommy to go get the clerk. You’ve been paying for the ring for a year now; little by little until you were able to fully pay for it. It was a gift for Tommy’s 21st birthday. You were talking to the clerk for a pick up when Tommy walks to you. The clerk gives you the red velvet box and you turn to Tommy, a wide smile on your face. 

“Who is this for?” he asked, frowning. Was this for that Rich Bastard? “You know I can’t afford that,”

“But I can. It’s for you,” you told him softly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry it was a month late,” You open the box for him. “Go on, wear it.”

“Y/N…love,”

“You have to accept it. I saved up for that, you know?” He takes the ring from the box and slides it on his ring finger. 

“Thank you…” he rasps, his throat closing up. “For this.”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I’d give you the world if I can but for now, a ring would suffice, don’t you think?”

-

You both settled at an empty grassland by the docks afterwards. Tommy couldn’t stop looking at his ring. 

“I still can’t believe you got me a ring,” he says, looking at you. “It must have cost you a fortune, eh?”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I want to give you something more for being a great friend to me.” you tell him. He nods at your words. Friends. Is that all he’ll ever be? 

“I got you this,” he says, showing you the simple, lone daisy that he picked on the way here. “I…” he says, tucking it behind your ear. I wish I could give you more. You stopped breathing, the proximity was too much to bear. You could see the blueness of his eyes, the freckles that kissed his nose and his cheeks. You could see every eyelash. It seemed like he didn’t mind it either. He was looking at you intently, trying to memorize every detail of your face. A face that could start a war, he was almost positive of it. You both unintentionally lean into each other, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to your lips, breath hitching. 

“Tommy!” you jump away from each other, looking away. Fuck. He sighs in annoyance, looking at one of the guys he knew from work. 

Maybe next time.

CAMDEN TOWN, 1921

“Put him down, Ollie!” he shouts. “Put him down, mate. He is only little.”

“You on your own?” He asked Tommy.

Tommy glances around. 

“Seems so,”

Alfie Solomons always liked to play the best games. He had wide shoulders that matched how dominant and domineering he seemed. He was unpredictable, abandoning all sorts of things just to make sure that in the end, he gets the best deal. Tommy wondered what kind of deal he could put up with the Jewish gangster to double cross Simon Coventry, his biggest payer.

“Well, you’re a brave lad, ain't you?” he asked. “Want to take a look around my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it?” 

Tommy listens to him drone on about bread. He asked for brown bread and was served one. 

“Come look,” Alfie says, leading Tommy to his office. 

-

“Well, I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You’re gipsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”

“I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy coughs. 

“Well, rum is for fun and fucking. So, whiskey, now that is for business,” he says, putting his bottle of whiskey for Tommy Shelby.

“Let’s talk first, eh?” 

“Suit yourself,” Alfie shrugs. 

“Heard you were dealing with billionaires,” Tommy brought up, trying to gauge the situation. He was sitting right in front of Alfie’s desk, noticing the latter reach for the drawer in his right. 

“You heard correct. What about it?” he asked nonchalantly. 

“Simon Coventry.” Tommy said. “He pays well?”

“Very well, mate.” Alfie replied, sipping on his whiskey. “Seeked for our protection services, invested…paid to kill for him. Has a wife, you know? Have you heard about her?”

“No,” Tommy shrugged, his voice monotonous, eyes bored. Alfie licks his lips. 

“Never met her…lovely wife, they say, yeah. A very lovely wife…but this lovely wife of his needs to be guarded. Don’t believe in all that…I don’t do that to women, but this lovely wife of his is…huh, well, told me to kill anyone who comes near her, yeah? And guess what, mate? You’ve a big fucking bounty written on your fucking forehead,” Alfie revealed. “Now,” he pauses, leaning on the table. “What is this business you’re looking for?”

“We join forces,”

“Fuck off. No! Categorical. Fucking ridiculous,” he leans back, scoffing. Tommy leans forward, clasping his hand over the table. 

“Mr. Solomons. Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent and the rest; you make from the tracks.”

Alfie fumbles with the handle but Tommy speaks.

“I know you keep a gun in the drawer beside the whiskey. I know you offer a deal or death. I know what I’m saying makes you angry but I’m offering you a deal. People don’t trust your protection anymore. What makes you think that Simon Coventry will continue to trust you?” he asked. 

“Well, you shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That’s you. You fucking betrayed him, mate. So, it’ll be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to you right now.”

“I can offer you a hundred good men all with weapons and a new relationship with the police.” 

“Intelligence,” Alfie says. “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend? And usually…it comes far too fucking late,” he reaches for the drawer on his left, pointing the gun at Tommy. He cocks the gun and Tommy sits there, unblinking. “Let’s say I shot you already, right? In the fucking face. And then the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there. Which is a shame.”

Tommy just sits there, his face devoid of any emotion. If he gets killed now, he doesn't care. He had no fear of death anymore.

“It’s fucking simple, mate,”

Blood trails down from Tommy’s nose and Alfie talks about some fucking cabinet behind him. He throws Tommy his handkerchief, but he doesn’t take it. Fucking cabinets and fucking asking him if Tommy wanted to go to Timbuktu. 

“I’m sorry, go on,” Alfie concedes after telling Tommy that he always thought he’d have a big gold ring on his finger. It was only a small signet ring that Tommy was unconsciously playing with under the table. “Tell us your plan.” 

NEW YORK, 1921

“I just got off the phone with the secretary. We’re invited to some Charity Gala in London that we have to go to,” Simon says. Simon says…seems like all you do is follow what Simon says. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go.”

“When is this?”

“In a week mostly,” he shrugged. “It would be great to have you there. It’s not grand or anything; it’s just a few of my partners having an event for some charity or foundation.”

“Oh,” you nodded. You wanted to be away from Simon, but you also wanted to go back to London. How were the Shelbys? How was Beth? “Yeah…yeah, I’ll go,”

“Perfect,” he says. “Your dress? You need a new one. I’ll arrange a trip for you with my assistant to help you look for what to wear. You have to be the most beautiful woman there. For reference, I prefer blue on you.”

“Okay, Simon. I’ll make sure to get a blue dress for you.” He smiles at you before turning the page on his newspaper. You were glad that things were back to how they were before Tommy arrived in Birmingham. You didn’t blame him—Tommy—Simon’s actions were your own fault. Who in the right mind would let their wife love another man? It’s not like Simon knew of your love but the fact that you hid who Tommy was from him still remains. Letting go of Tommy that night was…painful.

You couldn’t erase how crest-fallen he looked; that you were the cause for his anguish. He didn’t follow you; you told him not to. You didn’t want him to see you sit outside the Garrison with your head buried in your hands. You didn’t want him to see you howl in pain because you’ll never see him again. You didn’t want him to see how it hurt you to say goodbye to him.

You didn’t want him to see you but someone else did. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You looked up from your cowering position, eyelashes clumped. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I just…I just left your brother,” you whispered, trying to even out the sob that threatens to get out of your body. Arthur frowns, crouching down in front of you.  He tries to remove your shaky hands only to be met with your bruising jaw. 

“Did Tommy— “

“No,” you shook your head. “He didn’t hit me.”

He nods. Arthur didn’t know who Tommy was these days. He’s closed off, aloof, cold, detached…he sometimes wonders if a time comes and he’ll just snap. Arthur’s coping mechanism was violence. He knows that he’s good…his hands or only bloody but Tommy…Tommy wasn’t good anymore. He felt conflicted; everyone seems to put all the burden on you to make Tommy come back…to make him good again. He heard Polly talk about it; how Tommy needed you…but if Tommy was the reason why you’re miserable, is he still worth coming back to?

“I told Tommy to never see me again,” you managed through your cries. “I feel…I feel so lost, Arthur. I didn’t want to do that—to say that to him when-when he’s here now but I have no other choice…he’ll get-he’ll—“

“What about you?” he asked, tracing big circles on your back.

“What do you mean?” you asked, hiccuping. 

“I mean…you talk about Tommy and-and making sure that we’re all doing great but what about you, eh?” There was a small frown on his face, it was so different from the ‘Mad Dog’ that people know him as. 

“I don’t need that,” you chuckled. “I’m married to-to—“

“Simon Coventry, I know. But who do you have other than him? I know you love Tommy—don’t even fucking deny it. It’s why you’re doing all these things, I know but Tommy has us; he has Birmingham, and you don’t,” he adds, tearing your heart into pieces. The realisation of isolation dawns on you and it is wicked; consuming your heart with grief because you had no one. Not Tommy. Not anymore. “You make sure that all of us are being taken care of…but no one’s taking care of you. This whole thing-this thing with Tommy, is it worth it if you can’t even come home to Simon because you’re fucking crying in front of The Garrison?”

“I don’t know what to do,” you shrugged. “I…I just can’t seem to stay away from you lot,”

“Oh, love,” he sighs. He’ll never tell anyone that he saw you crying in front of the Garrison. “Why did you marry him?”

“Because…I wasn’t sure if Tommy’s coming back,” you whispered softly. You wiped away the tears from your face, trying to regain composure. “I sent…sent letters but he never wrote back. When Simon proposed the idea of marriage and Tommy wasn’t-wasn’t writing to me, I just took the chance. It was a chance to get out of that fucking hellhole. Tommy hates me for it,” you whimpered. “I know he hates me for it because I always told him that I’ll wait but-but he didn’t write back. I didn’t wait for him.”

Arthur frowns, confused. 

“He wrote to you but you never wrote to him,” he said.

“What?” 

“He did, love. Wrote to you multiple times and-and he’d always be the first one to show up when there were letters from home. Always-always looking for your letter,” he reminisces. Deep in your heart, you knew that he was telling you the truth because there was some sort of empty longing that crossed his eyes. “He waited for your letters every day for four years.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, looking at you more intently. “None of us knew you got married,” he added. 

“Arthur—“ You were heaving, this changes things. Your resentment towards Tommy was all in vain if he sent you letters but where were those letters? Where could they be? Seeing you in distress, Arthur flings his arm around your shoulder. “I hated him for it…I hated him for four years…” you weeped. “Arthur, how could I haveever hated him?” You felt like cold water was splashed on your face. Of course, Tommy would have never done that to you. But who did?

“It’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.”

-

LONDON, 1921

It’s been long since you last stepped foot in London. A year wasn’t a long time but a year teetering on the edge waiting for the next blow was a year too long. It’s not that you were expecting anything, but now that you’re in London…so close to Tommy, you know that everything will be different again. He’ll be forceful under the pretext of loving you, some bullshitt about it being for the better…you knew it was wrong. You knew that it wasn’t right. You hated your predicament, but you hated yourself more for never seeming to have the ability to hate him. 

You never questioned his love for you; you were sure about that but sometimes…you found yourself questioning if he loved you too much. You’ve never experienced love like that before. Too much love. Growing up, you always had just enough. What you couldn’t find from your mum, you found in Johnny. What you couldn’t find in your customers, you found in the Shelbys. What you couldn’t find from yourself, you found in Tommy. What you couldn’t find in Tommy, you tried to look for in Simon. 

Everything was just right. To have too much was too much. 

“You’ve been quiet since we got here, darling,” Simon says, his hand on your knee as you rode the Bentley back home. 

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “I just miss London. It’s different to be back home,”

“I know,” he says. “But we’re here now. Where do you prefer?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing with his fingers. You thumbed the rings on his fingers, your wedding band the most important one. 

“I’m asking…where do you want to build our family?” he asked. “I know I said that I didn’t want to have children yet but we aren’t getting any younger. We’d make the most beautiful children. They’ll get your beauty and intelligence. They’ll inherit whatever they want to inherit from me,”

Your fingers stilled. 

“Hmm,” you pretended to think, trying to playt the cards right. “I’d want our children to grow up in London.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his head falling on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I want them to grow up here but also experience different things from travelling. Maybe we could find a summer house in Italy?” you asked. He kisses your neck and you sit there cold, unmoving. 

“Yes, let’s buy a house in Italy…” he murmurs, drunk on your scent. “How many houses do you want, hm? Let’s buy whatever my wife wants…whatever she needs, hm?” 

“You spoil me too much, Simon,” you force out a giggle. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Only for the best. You’re going to be the mother of my children,” 

-

You arrived home and you heaved a sigh. You went inside your bedroom, ready to unpack some of the items you bought from New York when your eyes landed on the frame of pressed flowers that Tommy gave you on your birthday. Simon has been telling you to get rid of it—it was tacky, he said but you told him that the flowers were from a day of picnicking with your mother when you were a child. You felt your lips twitch at the memory of Tommy giving it to you sheepishly. If only you could have him back now. If only he’s there with you. 

You breathed deeply, trying to purge yourself of the sadness that lingered. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen him. He’s staying true to his word, you knew. He’s protecting you and you’re protecting him. You hated the situation you were in. Why did you need protection in the first place? You were the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the whole world. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. You could have everything but why do you feel so alone? Why do you feel like there’s still something missing? Why do you feel like, no matter what you did—no matter how you tried, Tommy’s still the one you love? You reached for the pendant but you remembered that it wasn’t there.

Was it selfish to wish for him to never marry someone else? To never love anyone? Was it selfish to wish for him to finally love you the way you do all these years? 

Or was he only protecting you because he’s bound by his words and not the feeling of unbridled love that he has for you? 

Polly told you that you could have everything…you felt like you had nothing. 

You had more when you were working as a prostitute. 

Now, you just have Simon. 

-

Simon has been feeling your detachment ever since you arrived in New York. He knew that it was his fault; laying his hand on you like that but could anyone really blame him? You were his love; the object of all of his desires. You needed protecting, you needed safety and you needed him to give you the world. 

He was in his office, sorting through the files that he left for a year. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He wanted you all for himself. He was hungry for you; hunger for your affection, your flesh, your gaze. He’ll do everything to preserve the attention that you were giving him but now that he feels you slipping away, he’s becoming more desperate. It was all Tommy Shelby’s fault and he needed to be dealt with. 

“I sent you the money for the murder of Johnny Wilson,” he speaks into the telephone. “I need you to do gsomething for me again.”

“Hm?” 

Simon speaks into the phone authoritatively. Details of his plan were spoken. He was meticulous and specific with what he wanted.

“Even…even the children?”

“Even the children,” he confirms. He senses the hesitation of the speaker from the other side. “If you do it in less than a year, I’ll add another twenty thousand to the total. I’ll make sure you never have to work a day in your fucking life. Call me when it’s done,” he spits, ending the call and looking at a photo of you on the table; not knowing that on the other side, an intruder was hearing everything that just transpired. 

Who was Simon Coventry? 

-

Cameras flashed as you enter the venue for the charity ball. You were dressed in a blue gown like promised. Simon’s hand was on your waist, smiling tightly at the cameras. He always hated the attention of the media and in your own way, you wanted to calm him down. You touch the hand that was on your waist to remind him that you were there. You smile at him softly and he smiles back. If only he was as soft as he presents himself to be in the media. 

He leads you into the venue without so much a glance offered to the media and you follow. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you smiled up at him. 

“You can go ahead and sit,” he says. “I’ll just be greeting some of my partners.” You nod and you allow him to kiss you on the cheek before you part ways. You didn’t know why—but you felt like something was wrong. Something was going to happen tonight. 

A waiter comes to your table and offers you a drink. He was young—probably way younger than you.

“Champagne, please,” you told him. “You’re too young to be working,”

“I-I’m nineteen, ma’am,” he tells you while pouring you a glass.

“Ah, maybe not that young then,” you replied. “Is this your first day?”

“Yes, ma’am. My first day on the job,” he says. “I’m quite nervous to be surrounded by the rich but I need the money…”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” you replied, offering him a friendly smile. “Here,” you said, opening your clutch and handing him a few pounds. “Think of it as a tip for serving me champagne and for talking to me.”

“This is too much, ma’am,” he refuses but you shove the notes in his hand. You remembered how tips from the brothel helped you so much; it allowed you to buy necessities. It allowed you to get Tommy the signet ring that you got him for his 21st birthday. You were busy talking to the young man that you didn’t notice your husband walking towards you with a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, you,” he sarcastically greets the server, snapping his fingers rudely.. “Refill my glass,”

“Simon— “

“Thank you,” he says, disregarding you completely. The boy turns to leave but Simon stops him. “No, stay. I need you to refill my fucking drink every time.”

“Simon—“

“You think my wife is beautiful?” he asked. The boy looks at you and you attempt to shake your head; telling him to walk away before anything else happens. “I’d be offended if you told me that she wasn’t.”

“Simon— “

He takes a swig of his drink before extending the same empty glass.

“What’s your name?” Simon asked, watching the boy shakily refill the champagne flute. “Don’t spill anything on my wife,” he threatens darkly. The boy swallows. 

“William, sir,”

“William…do you think my wife is pretty?” he asked again. You look around the room to see that everyone was trying to discreetly watch the commotion. You tried standing up but Simon pushed you back down.

“Y-yes, sir,”

Simon nods, pleased with William’s answer.

“You may go, William,” you calmly told him.

“You may not,” Simon says. William’s feet were stuck planted on the ground. He was shaking and you tried to plead with Simon, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Actually, let’s take this outside, hm? Everyone seems to be enjoying this fucking commotion. Come with us, Y/N,”

“Simon, please,”

“Come on, darling,” he says, pulling you away forcefully from the table. You stumble after him, heart racing wildly inside your chest. Fuck. Your shoulders were shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The three of you arrive in the wine cellar, an empty room where you were sure no one heard you. 

“Stand there,” Simon says. “Y/N, stay beside me.”

William stands in front of Simon, his steps hesitant.

“I’ll give you a deal, William. Do you want a thousand pounds? You’ll never find that anywhere else,” he taunts. You shake your head discreetly, but William wasn't looking at you. He was pale, his breathing shallow. “I’ll give it to you right now. Cash,”

“Y-yes, sir,” he replies. 

“Say please,”

“Simon—“

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Please, sir,”

“Kneel and beg.”

“Simon, it’s not right! Please, let’s just go home,” 

William kneels in front of Simon, and you could see the sinister smile that played on his lips. He fishes for something in his pocket—a gun. 

“S-sir,”

“You want a thousand pounds, yeah?” he asked, waving his gun in the air. 

“Simon—“

“I don’t want another word from you, Y/N. Or else, I swear, I will fucking shoot you.” he threatens. You were trying your best to stop being so hysterical but you couldn’t. You were sobbing, hands shaking when Simon pointed the gun at the poor boy. You tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out; tried to wonder what a monster Simon becamez

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you choked, crouching down on the floor to comfort yourself. “I’m sorry, William…”

BANG! BANG!

The sounds of a gun going off rings inside the cellar and you flinch. Simon has just shot William twice; one on his stomach, one on his shoulder. It was sloppy; you knew he was aiming for his heart. William lays on the floor with a pool of his own blood, crying in pain. Simon just walks towards him, throwing him a thousand pounds and then spitting on William’s face. 

“Don’t ever look at my fucking wife again. Fix yourself Y/N. We’re going back to the party,”

“Simon, he’s just a kid! Get him to a fucking hospital!”

“I said, fix yourself!” he roared, and you closed your mouth. You stepped away from him, afraid of what he might do.

“Now you know what happens if you ever try to leave me. It’s time for me to show you what I will do to protect you, okay darling?” he asked, crouching down to your level and pulling you in an embrace. He kisses your temples to comfort you for the damage that he has done. “Don’t ever leave me,”

The two of you left William’s body and went back to the party. You were shaken, aloof the whole night. You couldn’t believe what just transpired. Simon’s cruelty—his disregard for himan life for a thousand pounds… You were trying to catch the attention of other servers but were ignored. You just wanted someone to check on William, that poor boy. You and your husband continued to sit beside each other acting like the happy couple, never noticing the pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into you. 

-

Simon killed Johnny. 

Your hands shook as you read the handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper over and over again. You found it in the clutch that you left in your seat when Simon shot William in the cellar. Turning the paper over, you sobbed; unable to control the emotions that begged for your attention—anger, fear, disgust, sadness…everything seemed to crash into you. You run towards the bathroom to vomit on the toilet. Your whole body tembled, and you cradled yourself on the bathroom floor. You didn’t care if the dress was wet and crumpled…how…why…what did you do in your past life to be punished like this? 

-

You haven’t been the same since you received that note. Simon found you in bed; unmoving and unresponsive. The shock must have been too much to bear but he had to show you—he had to put on a display of what he would do to keep you safe and away from the Shelbys. He didn’t regret anything except for the way your eyes glistened when he threatened to shoot you. That was a sin he’d pay for but for now, maybe silence is enough to soothe you. 

He lays in bed, an inch too far away from you and he couldn’t bear it. He could hear the way your sobs shook the bed; how hard you tried to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“Darling…” he coos but you only cried harder. 

“Not tonight, Simon. Please,” you whispered, desperation kicking in. “I’m…I’m— “

He nods to himself, a wounded puppy. 

“I have…I have to leave you tomorrow to meet with Alfie Solomons,” he tells you. “Use that time to go out or, or get out of this place. I wouldn’t mind if you went alone as long as you have at least one of Alfie’s men to guard you,” 

You wanted to laugh. He was holding your liberty as hostage; taunting you with it whenever he did something wrong but in reality, no matter how much freedom he grants you, his hand will always be on your neck to keep you from leaving. 

“I’m sorry for threatening you,”

“Not tonight, Simon,”

He nods but it actually angers him for you to refuse him so easily. He has given you anything and everything. Hell, he bought you that summer house in Italy already, but you still couldn’t give him the satisfaction of holding you for the night. Did Tommy Shelby hold you while you slept? Would you have let him?

-

You felt Simon kiss your head before he left. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of all the ways to tell Tommy or at least anyone about Simon’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was sincere when he told you that you can go out today but you were taking that chance. You knew that Arthur wanted you to protect yourself but maybe this could be the last time. Just this once and then, never again. 

You dressed up, the brown coat covering your figure and giving you shelter from the cruelty of the world that Simon built for the two of you. You ordered one of the servants to fetch you one of Solomons’ men that could drive. You needed to talk to Polly or anyone from Birmingham and the only way to do it was through the telephone. It was too dangerous at home; Simon had eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Mrs. Coventry,” the driver greets you, opening the door to let you in. You settle yourself inside, opening your clutch for a deal he couldn’t resist. 

“Other than driving me around, what else do you do?” you asked him. 

“I’m told to obey all of your orders as long as it complies with what Mr. Coventry asks us,” he replied. “Where are we going today, ma’am?” 

“Just…go to the city,” you replied. “Do you think…do you think you could do something for me? I’ll make sure you’re paid and that you won’t be blamed for anything that comes out of it,”

“Ma’am, I am under strict orders of Mr. Solomons to— “

“Five hundred pounds,” you interrupted, you needed him to understand the urgency of the situation. Your nail beds have bled through the night and were red and swollen. “I can give it to you in cash right now. Just tell me if you know where I could reach the Shelbys the fastest,” You sounded like Simon like now, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care anymore. 

“There…there are Blinders right outside a flat in London. Ada Shelby is rumoured to live there,” he says lowly. 

“Take me there. Make sure you’re discreet and make sure we’re not being followed. I’ll make sure that you’re safe,” you promised him. “Just…just go there as fast as you can,” 

It’s hard to be discreet when you’re driving one of the most expensive cars in the world, but he drove you to Ada Shelby’s house anyway. Five hundred pounds was more than what he could ever make working under Alfie Solomons. 

A storm was brewing, and you were at the centre of all of it. 

-

Ada lives in a building in the centre of London. On the way, your driver told you about how Tommy bought the whole building for her. You smiled softly; Tommy was finally realising his dreams, but he was realising them without you. 

You exited the car, covered from head to toe. You made sure no one recognized you; the lush, brown coat and your hat covered your face entirely. You told him to leave you alone and come back in three hours. He zoomed off, afraid to be seen by one of Simon’s men.

Your breathing was uneven and the steps that you took were shaky. You blamed it on the uneven ground. Knocking on the door, you prayed silently for Ada to hear you. The more time you spend outside, the higher the risk of being recognized. You waited with bated breath, but the door soon opened, revealing none other than the man who occupied every corner of your brain. You rushed inside before he could even speak and he let you, locking the door behind him as he followed you into the drawing room. He stands in front of you, removing the coat from your shoulders gently. You were shivering but not from the cold. How were you more beautiful than the last time he saw you?

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” you said over and over again, like you were making sure that he was there. Your resolve was dissolving, and you were near hysterical. He crouches down in front of you to take a good look for your face. He missed it; he missed your touch…he missed you. His fingers on your waist seem to snap you back to reality and you take a deep breath. “Simon killed Johnny. He’s going to—he’s going to kill all of you,”

-

A/N: Thank you very much for making this far! We’re getting closer to the end of this series but please don’t forget to reblog and comment if you liked it / loved it / hated this chapter, etc! I love discussing and replying to your comments and reblogs.

ALSO: A quick character study on Simon is that he is filty rich. The value of money is immaterial to him. In his eyes, money is a way for him to get anything and everything he wants. It’s what makes people kill and die for each other. If it benefits him, then he’d gladly throw money at whatever it is about.

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme

(I’ll be removing people from my taglist on the next chapter if conditions aren’t met! I’m sorry but that’s the rule….)

[rotten-pomegranate]

Good morning 🌞, since requests are open, can I please get head cannon ask for how the adult trio with feitan, shalnark and phinks would react if reader successfully escaped them for years. Please I want reader to win just once 😭🙏🏾

Yes you can 💪🏻

I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to catch you in the end but I made like that

Warnings: mentions of torture, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Feitan

Feitans gonna be pissed and offended that you have so little respect for him you escaped and when he finds you it’s hell

you should have killed yourself when you got away because the things he’s gonna do to you and Any friends you made along the way will make death seem like the better option by a lot

You don’t get any privileges your always chained up and you only get enough food and water to survive

He was being nice before, holding himself back, but not anymore now he does anything and everything he wants

Shalnark

He’s gonna be sad he knows he wasn’t the best but was he that bad?

He’s gonna track you down eventually, probably one of the quickest to find you, I’m talking three years or so

When he finds you he just mocks you, like you really thought he wouldn’t find you how cute

He’s gonna stick you with antenna a lot more often to make you do stuff you would never willingly do and he’s gonna make sure you remember every bit of it

Phinks

He’s heartbroken, you didn’t love him? Sure he kidnapped you but he was so nice, he got you gifts, fed you, never forced you to do anything and he let you do whatever you wanted in the fairly big house (he’s a but Delusional)

He’s a close second to shalnark when it comes to finding you in sense of time give or take about three and a half years

When he does find you he’s not gonna be as nice as he was before, your not gonna get sweet little gifts or the privilege to go around the house freely and he’s not gonna brush off your attitude anymore, from now on your getting locked away when you give him any sass

Chrollo

even though he tried his hardest to prevent it He knew it would happen eventually, he let his guard slip gave you to much freedom

It’s gonna take him about five years to find you because he has to focus on other stuff such as the troupe

When he gets you back your never gonna see the light of day again, your locked I and chained In his basement from now on and while it’s a nice basement with carpeted floors, a nice bathroom and a big bed with lots of fluffy blankets that he often joins you in your only there for his pleasure now

He regularly pins you down and forces you to do stuff that he didn’t make you do before whispering how it Could be different the whole time

Illumi

Illumi is savage, has every person in the zoldyck manor out looking for you and that intensity doesn’t go down if anything it gets worse the longer it takes to find you

It’ll take him about four years to find you and when he does your in for it

First he’s gonna beat you black and blue, he’s gonna break both you legs in the process and that’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to see a doctor about

He’s gonna try and get you pregnant as soon as he can and if you where kicking and screaming before he would have stopped but not anymore now your getting tied to the bed frame and having a gag in your mouth

Hisoka

He’s the calmest out of all of them, he knew it would happen, he’s not happy about it but he’s not a total mess like some of these guys

It’s not his top priority to find you but it is up there, so it’s gonna take him about seven years to find you

When he finds you your getting the beating of a life time, I’m talking broken ribs, and kicked out teeth, he will pay machi to come fix you up but he might do it again if you annoy him

He didn’t hit you before but he does now, oh you dropped a glass worth ten bucks? Your getting smacked up side the head

And lastly from now on when you sleep it’s on the cold ground with a chain leash attached to his bed frame around your neck no more comfortable pillows

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[jo-speaks]

talk too much

in which…

Trevor realizes fem! reader is just like him.

Trevor and Quinn were in the living room of the infamous Michigan lake house. Quinn had unfortunately gotten there the same day Trevor did, and was now victim to one of Trevor’s rants.

“So when is Jack getting here with his girl?” Trevor asked, finally ending his hour-long rant about the flight to the lake house. 

Quinn rubbed his eyes, “They should be here any minute now. And also, she’s not his girlfriend.” Trevor gave Quinn a confused look, “Really?” “Trevor. We’ve all known her for ten years. If they were gonna date, they would’ve done so by now.” “I guess you’re right.” “Also, if she were to date any one of us, it would probably be you.” The boy raised his eyebrows, “Why do you say that?” “Because you both talk too damn much.” Quinn said, taking a sip of his water. 

The timing of his words couldn’t have been more perfect. The boys heard footsteps and the familiar sound of your voice was getting closer and closer to the door. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, getting up to open the door for you and Jack. 

As soon as Jack stepped foot in the house, he dropped his bags and ran straight for the living room. He planted face down onto the couch and let out a long groan, causing Trevor to laugh. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked. 

Jack turned his head to look at Trevor, “She’s just like you, bro. I love her, but holy shit.”

The boys knew you loved to talk, it was one of the things they loved about you and what drew them to become friends with you all those years ago. But sometimes, you didn’t know when to stop. 

They were never really annoyed with it, always ready to listen to whatever was on your mind at that moment, but sometimes their brains needed a little rest before they were able to process anything you said. 

Trevor was the only one who hadn’t realized this about you, probably because he was the exact same way. He thought you talked just the right amount and was surprised when you were able to sit down through his long hour talks without complaining. 

Quinn had walked into the living room dragging Jack’s bags with him while you followed behind with yours. You had both decided that getting the bags in your rooms was a task you’d deal with later. So for now, you set your bags down and pulled Quinn into a hug. 

“Hey Trevor!” You greeted, pulling away from Quinn to hug the taller boy.

He gladly returned it, “Hi Y/N. Any clue why Jack’s pouting right now?” You laughed at his comment, “I was telling him about my flight. Craziest thing-”

Jack and Quinn both groaned for the same, yet different reasons. Jack had already heard this story, the four hour long drive from the airport giving you plenty of time to talk his ear off, and Quinn had just got done listening to Trevor talk about the exact same thing. 

“How about we go to the boat? Luke said it’s ready to go.” Jack stated, trying to avoid hearing about your flight again. 

A warm feeling rose to your face, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You smiled and nodded, following the boys out towards the boat. 

Trevor pulled you back gently, separating you from the other two. “I’d love to hear about your flight.” “Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. As long as you let me talk about mine.”

~✩~

The four of you spent the rest of the day out on the boat, tired out from all the wakesurfing you did.

Deciding to call it a night, you all headed back inside the house. Since everyone was dry by this point, the boys laid down on the couch, while you headed upstairs to shower. 

Stepping into the bathroom, you already felt relaxed before even stepping under the water. You pulled your hair out of its up-do then pulled your shirt over your head. Not realizing you hadn’t locked the door, the sound of it opening made you jump. 

“Oh! I’m so…” Trevor began, losing his train of thought when he saw you in nothing but a bra. 

Neither one of you moved, too stunned with what was happening. After a few seconds, he blinked rapidly, before apologizing and backing out of the bathroom. 

“Wait!” You called out. 

Trevor stopped in his tracks, focusing his attention on you yet again.

“Thanks for listening to me today. I know I’m a bit… much sometimes.” He let out a soft laugh, “I don’t think you’re too much. I think you’re perfect.” He took a few steps closer to you, “In many ways.”

You cupped his face with your hand, rubbing your thumb gently against his cheek. His eyes fell to your lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss you at that moment. So he did. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, which you instantly returned. 

It became heated quickly, his hands wandering the rest of your body. His hands found the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the sink counter, finding a home between your legs as they wrapped around his waist. 

You pulled away breathlessly, “Join me?”

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM EPIC: THE MUSICAL - THE WISDOM SAGA

LEGENDARY

"It's just me, myself and I."

"I'm stuck with your stories, but no clue who you are."

"Come and give me a sign."

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?"

"I know life and fate are scary, but I wanna be legendary."

"There are strangers in our halls."

"It's not much longer we can stall."

"They're getting impatient. Dangerous, too."

"I would fight them if I was half as strong as you."

"Somebody help me!"

"Come and give me the strength."

"Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?"

"Where is he?"

"Give me a chance. A single opportunity."

"Don't you dare call my mother a tramp!"

"What'cha gonna do about it, champ?"

LITTLE WOLF

"Wanna entertain me?"

"Let's see how you take this."

"You've made your worst mistake here."

"You'll have run out of bones to break when you and I are through."

"I'll teach you all the lessons your daddy never could."

"This cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good."

"Don't you know it's fight or fly?"

"Run away before you die."

"Need some help?"

"What's going on here?"

"I suggest you fight back."

"Uppercut him. Now."

"Woah, that is so sick!"

"Let's try this again."

"I've no respect for bullies."

"Let's teach this dog a lesson in front of all his kind."

"One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined."

"Show them that you've got some bite."

"Don't go down without a fight!"

"...Maybe I pushed you a bit too hard."

"Go back and cry in your corner."

"Tell me why you came to my aid."

WE'LL BE FINE

"I had a friend before, and he was a lot like you."

"Maybe, if I'd made a different call..."

"I don't know who your friend is."

"My time with you's been splendid."

"I got in a fight and I didn't die!"

"I've never felt strong before."

"You're my friend, I couldn't ask for more."

"Maybe it's time that you lend a hand."

"If not his friend, then mine."

"Maybe to fall is to learn one way."

"Maybe it's all gonna turn out great."

"I know we'll be fine."

"I know it's light you'll find."

"You're a good kid."

LOVE IN PARADISE

"Old friend, it's been ten years since I last saw you."

"Let's see where you've been."

"Where did you go?"

"Morning, sleepyhead! You've been resting for a while."

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"I've got all you could want here!"

"Just you and me, my dear."

"Soon into bed we'll climb, and spend our time..."

"I'm not your man."

"I'm what you want."

"From here on out, you're mine."

"Hell no, I could kill you where you stand!"

"Last I checked, goddesses can't die."

"We've got all we could want here."

"No one can come or go."

"I don't belong here!"

"There's something wrong here."

"Time can take a heavy toll."

"All I hear are screams."

"Get away from the ledge."

"You don't know what I've gone through."

"You don't know what I've sacrificed."

"Come back inside, dear."

"Let me close my eyes."

"I'll stay inside your heart."

"Life would be so much worse if you had died."

"Stay in my open arms."

"He needs my help."

GOD GAMES

"Rarely do I ask for favors."

"Divine intervention; is that what you seek?"

"You're playing with thunder for a man full of shame."

"Why not make it a game?"

"Bring it."

"We all know I'm a fan of catchy songs."

"All he did was reimburse them."

"Trust is not given, it's forged."

"Why should I give him my support?"

"If you make the right decision, he can still build a future with those who miss him."

"He was busy fighting."

"Let him feel the pain that his mother felt and rot."

"Please reconsider this!"

"Really, ___, these old tricks?"

"What kind of sick coward holds back his power?"

"Tell your lover that a broken heart can mend!"

"To get back to his homestead, he'll make everybody bleed."

"He's got the mind of a genius."

"I've played your game and won!"

"You dare to defy me?"

"No one beats me."

"Bring her through the wringer."

"Is she dead?"

"Let him go, please!"

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Ten

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“What happened at work, dollface?” He asked me.

“I… I kinda… got fired.” I mumble.

“Why?” He asks as his hand caresses my cheek.

“There was something my editor wanted me to do and I told him I couldn’t and-“

“Did he try to sleep with you?” Matt asks sternly. “I swear to god I’ll-“

“What? No it was an article I didn’t want to do.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to do the article and he said without that article I contribute nothing of substance to the paper so he fired me…”

Matt kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around me. “What was the piece about?” He asks as he nuzzles his face against my hair.

I bite my lip. I can’t tell him the article was about him, he’d think our whole relationship is a lie. “He wanted me to do an exposure piece. I just don’t feel comfortable ruining people for no good reason. I think there’s a difference between exposing actual bad people and just plain outing people’s personal lives.”

Matt kisses my head once again. “I bet you were the best writer they had. That papers gonna go to shit now. No one will read it anymore.”

I laugh softly and cuddle closer to him. “My pieces barely made it into that paper anyways.”

“I’ll find you a better paper to work at, okay babydoll?”

“You don’t need to find me a job Matt, I can do that myself.”

“I’d rather you have a job you can work from home from though, that way I can keep an eye on you.”

“Matt, no offense, but that was creepy.” I turn to him and laugh softly. My smile fades when I see the serious look on Matt’s face.

“I’d just prefer it if I knew where you were and that you were safe.” Matt shrugs and kisses my temple again. “I have some things to take care of here in a bit baby, so I’m gonna order you some lunch.”

“What do you have to take care of?” I ask. I bite my lip as I realize I don’t need to ask these questions for my job anymore. I just want to know him.

Matt sighs. “There’s a shipment coming in from Italy and I need to make sure they brought everything I paid for so that I can distribute it to my consumers.”

I blink. “What’s the shipment of?”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m sorry dollface but that’s need to know.” He kisses my head. “Let’s order you food now.” He pulls out his phone to order food online.

“It’ll be here soon. I have to go babydoll, I have to be at the airport in an hour.” Matt gets up from the couch. “Make sure you eat. And feel free to explore and look around. You’re gonna be here for a little while you might as well get used to the place.” Matt gives me a quick kiss on the lips before leaving.

I sit on the couch for a minute pondering what to do. I hear Matt’s car leave and I shrink back against the couch. It feels so uncomfortable to be alone is his big home. I look around the living room. Behind the couch is one of multiple pool tables in the house, and near the corner of the room is a poker table.

The tv is huge, like one from a theater. It sits above a beautiful mantel that looks like hand chiseled stone. The beautiful creation had carved roses and thorn filled vines that line the edges.

I must have been admiring the mantel for a long time since I hear the doorbell ring. It catches me off guard and I flinch and my leg slips off the couch.

I get up and head towards the front door. I open it to see a delivery man holding a bag.

“Delivery for Sturniolo?” He says and I nod. He hands me the bag and the receipt before turning around and leaving without a word.

I close the door and go to the dining room to set the bag of food down in the table. The interaction itself was weird, not like any one I’ve had with a delivery man. I look at the receipt to see what Matt had ordered and see the special instruction.

‘Don’t mess with the girl.’

I roll my eyes and set the receipt down on the table.

After eating a bit of the lunch I decided to walk around. I’m mostly curious what I could find. Even though I’m not on the piece about him anymore I’m still interested to know if he really is the Mafia boss or if this is all just misconstrued information.

I walk up the stairs and through the hallway. Most of the doors have been locked, the only one I’m able to get into is Matt’s bedroom. So I start there.

I have already seen most there is to see in Matt’s bedroom. But the door that leads to his office is still unseen by my eyes. I turn the knob, a little surprised it isn’t locked. I open the door just a bit and bite my lip.

Should I be doing this? Would Matt know? I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth from nerves and I enter the office. I turn in the light to see everything, but there’s almost nothing to see. Just a desk and a seat. There’s no papers or a computer, do extra storage drawers, no decorations of any kind. Just a desk and a chair.

The desk and chair looks like the ones you’d think your rich uncle would have. Beautiful maroon wood desk and a matching color leather desk chair.

I go to close the door when something catches my eye. Something under the desk. I walk closer and look under the desk and pick up the small metal key. I look around for a lock of some sort, something that the key must open.

Why would this be in the floor? I look through the drawers of the desk, all of them empty, except when I get to the bottom one. I open it and a gun slides around the drawer from the force of me opening it. I gasp slightly and immediately close the drawer.

I stand up and look around. Where did the key go? And where did it come from? There’s no way he just left it on the floor, is there? And why would he have an empty office with nothing but a gun?

Maybe Emma was right, I was being naive, and I shouldn’t have trusted Matt. Things do add up to him being in the Mafia.

But that’s not how you gather information, you can’t start with your conclusion and work backwards to prove it. No, I need proof of it.

But I don’t need proof anymore. I keep forgetting I stopped with that piece. I turn around and look over the walls. I trace my fingers over the wallpaper until I feel a dent in the wall covered by the wallpaper.

I take a breath. I can’t cut through the paper, Matt will notice and know I snooped. I bite my lip and trace along the dent, just to get an idea of how big the dent it.

I trace it up above my head and then back down to the floor. It seemed to be the outline of a door. Maybe that’s what the key unlocked?

But why would the key be on the floor? And why would the door be covered with the wallpaper? I shake my head. I shouldn’t do this. I set the key back down under the desk where I found it and leave the office, shutting the light off behind me.

I sit on the bed still unsure what to do. After a moment of thinking I walk out of his bedroom and walk along the hallway to where his office wall would be. I go to open a door that should lead to the room next to his office, but it’s locked.

I immediately go back through his bedroom and to his office, grabbing the key and going back out to the door. I take a deep breath before I slip the key into the lock.

I turn the key and the lock click. I turn the knob and open the door. The room is dark so I reach around the wall feeling for a light switch. When I finally find it I flick it on, and gasp at what I see.

I quickly close the door behind me and run down the hall and down the stairs. I rush to the front door and open it, just in time to see a car pull up. My breath hitches and I shut the door, hoping whoever it was didn’t see me.

I go back to the living room but remember how I left the room. I quickly go back up the stairs and go back to the room, shut off the light, then close and lock the door. I run to put the key back under his desk where I found it. By the time I’m leaving Matt’s bedroom I hear the front door open.

From upstairs I can hear the sound of two guys talking to each other, sounding like they’re bickering. My feet stay planted in place in Matt’s bedroom, unable to move.

Neither voice sounds like Matt’s which makes my heart race in my chest. I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth and slowly creep tears the door of the bedroom. I hear the guys make their way up the stairs and I see their faces.

They look just like Matt. Then I remember Matt telling me he was a triplet and lived with his brothers when we were on a date once.

I step backwards and the floor creaks. The guys stop talking and I stand paralyzed in fear. Do they know I’m here? Did Matt tell them anything?

My questions are answered when I hear one of them say “I bet it’s that girl Matt’s been with.” And then the footsteps get closer to the door. I sit down on the bed, now unable to stand as the anxiety builds up inside me. The door opens and I see the two guys fully.

They really do look almost just like Matt. I stare up at them and my heart races. “Matt said you’d be here.” One of them says. “I’m Chris, this is Nick,” he nods his head towards the other guy “we’re Matt’s brothers. You must be y/n then?”

I nod slowly.

“Matt’s told us about you. He said you’re staying here while he has your place checked for- ow!”

Nick interrupts Chris by kicking his leg. “Dude,” Nick motions to me. He mouths something to Chris and Chris seems to have a moment of realization.

“Just make yourself at home and… Nick and I will be in the living room if you need anything.” Chris says before leaving.

I let out a breath and stare at the ground. How am I supposed to leave with those two here? And how am I supposed to stay after what was in that room?

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @xxsadlovexx @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @nickmillersn1gf

[bonny-kookoo]

Hi bonny ninny, ruu here

I like your 'Why not' & 'How so' series.

I feel like oc is tone sensitive. Would you write a drabble where Jungkook uses a tone which hurts & upsets oc. Like they are not even arguing but something about tobe hurts her. How would Jungkook consoles her? They would be so cute in this DDLG theme. 🥺

"At this rate I'm gonna have to sleep back at my place again." Jungkook laughs, as he watches you make your bed, adjusting all the different stuffed animals.

You're not sure what exactly he means by that. Or more so, how serious he is.

You don't want him to sleep back at his place and leave you alone- you've become too attached and fond of his late night cuddling and the way he warms up the bed beneath the blankets, but you also love your stuffed animals too much to give them away, or let them simply sit on a shelf. Is he making you choose?

Do you want to choose?

The entire rest of the early day, you can't stop overanalyzing his words, no matter what. You're suddenly hyper-sensitive to the way he says stuff, the tone of his voice, the words he uses, or his body language accompanying every sentence. Is he really that annoyed by you and your habits? But you thought he liked you the way you really are?

"Let me do that for you." He says as you stir in the pot preparing some warm food for the two of you, hand taking the spoon from you. "Can't have you making a mess again like last time." He chuckles, but something in the way he shakes his head just.. makes you feel oddly guilty.

You're not that good at keeping up attention to one thing only for long. You're not sure why- it's not even that you can't cook, you just start doing ten things at once, and just like last time, a few days prior, things boil over and spill, or stuff almost burns in the pan or the oven almost stays on for too long. You can't help it.

Maybe he's starting to have second thoughts. Just like you feared.

"M' sorry." You mumble when he places the filled up bowl in front of you, hand stuttering a bit as he frowns.

"What're you sorry for?" He wonders, sitting down across from you, watching how you only reluctantly pick up your spoon to swirl it around in your bowl, watching the ingredients dance around in the broth. "Eyes up here, baby." He requests, and you do so- though only for a second.

"I'll.. try and put the plushies away." You explain, looking down again. "And I'll concentrate better when cooking too. And I'll start making sure I'll keep track of my own stuff and-" You rant, but he reaches out to hold your hand, stopping you.

"What's brought that up?" He wonders, confused. "You don't have to get rid of stuff, and neither do you need to do better at anything." He offers.

"But I'm annoying you." You say, meekly. "You said you won't sleep here anymore with all the stuffies in my bed-"

"Oh fuck, baby, no-" He sighs, laughing a bit to himself. "How long has that been bubbling up inside you?" He asks, and you shrug. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was upset at you. I was just picking on you a little- I didn't mean to make you feel like you did something wrong." He reassures.

"But you're right?" You answer, and he shakes his head again.

"Am I?" He chuckles. "You love your stuffed animals. I know you've got a name for each and every one of them, and that's cute. And they don't bother me at all, since you put them on the carpet every night anyways- it just looks funny with how much space they take up during the day." Jungkook explains. "And I also know that you've got a bit of trouble staying focused, so I'm not mad when you get a bit sidetracked while cooking. If anything, I only worry sometimes, which is why I tend to take over sometimes, to make sure you don't get hurt." He moves on. "I really don't mind keeping your doctors appointments or other stuff in mind. I don't mind doing stuff for you, or taking care of you. I really don't." He presses on. "I love you the way you are. I'd be stupid to try and change you."

"I don't know why I thought you meant something bad." You mumble, and he yet again just smiles.

"It was most likely my tone. Let's make an agreement, alright?" He says, and you nod. "I'll be more clear to tell you when I'm only making fun- and you'll tell me if you think I'm being too mean."

You nod at that, glad that it was only a huge misunderstanding-

happy that you were wrong after all.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

hi idk if u take requests, but if u do could u write a Din x Reader where the reader gets really sunburnt and she doesn’t want to be a burden to Din so she doesn’t tell him, and then when he finds out he helps her treat it? I’d love if they admitted their feelings for each other in the end..

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warning: injury, mentions of blood and pain, self doubt and anxiety

Word Count: 1,890

a/n: i changed 'sunburnt' to a different injury and i hope that's okay. i only did that b/c if i wrote the reader as sunburnt i'd have to describe her skin color, and i like to keep my drabbles as inclusive as possible. hope you don't mind!

.

COMMON MISTAKE

"Pylades: I'll take care of you.

Orestes: It's rotten work.

Pylades: Not to me. Not if it's you."

.

Din told you to be careful. Actually, his exact words were, ‘Stop playing with your karking knife’. You, in all your excellent brilliance, had mouthed off a passive acknowledgement before continuing to play with your vibroblade. Although, ‘play’ was a strong word. You just wanted to get good at spinning it in your hand. Before you left Mandalore, you had seen Paz do it and since then you were determined to master that skill.

So, the summary was, Din told you to be careful, you had not been careful, and now you were bleeding. A lot. Dank farrik. In your defense, he had warned you that you were gonna cut your hand, and that was not what happened. You had tripped going up the ramp and accidentally skewered your thigh. Which, when worded that way, was ten thousand times worse. It was a good thing you hadn’t hit an artery because you would’ve bled to death before calling Din to let him know you were dying from an injury born of your own stupidity. 

“This is fine. I’m fine. No problem.” You mumbled to yourself as you wrapped your thigh with some padded gauze. You refused to use bacta on this. The thought of wasting the expensive and important medication on this injury only added guilt to your shame. “Everything is okay.” It looked good now all covered up and out of sight. Your pants were absolutely ruined with a hole in the thigh and blood that stained the entire length of your left leg, but it was fine. “I’m fine.”

If you repeated the word ‘fine’ enough times then it was bound to come true. Science.

You pushed off the cot to stand and nearly crumpled under the weight. Pain, hot and unbearable, rocketed from your hip down to your toes. Your entire left leg was angry and screaming at you. With a sharp breath, you forced yourself to walk and get a new pair of pants. Your communicator chirped a message that Din was on his way back with Grogu and that put a whole new level of panic on the situation. Getting your clothing situated, you chose to stand rather than sit. There was a solid chance if you sat down right now you wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Five minutes passed when Din came around the side of the ship to stand at the end of the ramp. Grogu was playing with an unfamiliar toy in the satchel by his side. The Mandalorian must have caved and bought the kid a new toy again.

“Hey,” Din called out without coming closer, “Are you done with the wiring?”

You had stayed behind to repair some loose wiring. Your sole job on the ship was to keep the damn thing in the air, and Maker did the Razor Crest fight you at every step. You nodded. “Yes. Yupp. All good.”

“Come with me.” Din motioned for you to follow after him. “I want to show you something in the town.”

You let out a quiet whimper as he slid out of view, and with a steadying breath you marched out with the most normal gait you could manage. Honestly, you were impressed with yourself. You’d be more impressed if you hadn’t stabbed yourself in the first place, but considering your situation you’d claim this victory. The town wasn’t far from where Din parked the ship and it was a small, but colorful village nestled in the wilds of Naboo. Somehow the fact that you injured yourself while the three of you were parked on one of the most relaxing and safe worlds out there only made your pride sting that much more. 

There was sweat beading on your forehead that you had to wipe away and your leg was burning in white, hot agony. Din continued to glance your way, you could feel his gaze, until he finally spoke. “You’re awfully quiet today, tranyc’ika.”

“Just… thinking.” You replied. It was a Maker damned miracle your words didn’t fall out with a whimper. Only a few paces ahead was a little shop that sold caf. Tables and chairs littered the outside patio and the second you and Din began to pass them, you drifted to take a seat. “Hey, how⏤ how about some caf, yeah?”

Din paused and just stared at you. You licked your lips and focused on taking slow breaths through your nose. Finally, Din shifted so he faced you dead on and his hands went to his hips. As if recognizing Din’s ‘lecture stance’, Grogu stopped playing to pay attention to what was happening.

“Walk to me.” He near demanded it.

“That’s a weird request.” You replied and made no move to stand. Din tilted his head at you. Dank farrik. Hands on hip and the head tilt. You were royally fucked. “Yeah, alright. Here I come.”

Just as you had guessed in the ship, the act of sitting down had ruined you. If your slow and shaky rise from the chair didn’t give you away, you took three steps before your left leg gave out on you completely. Before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you with ease and you looked up to meet Din’s dark t-shaped visor.

“What did you kriffing do?”

“I, uh,” You offered him a sheepish smile, “I, maybe, stabbed myself. A little.”

You had gotten pretty good at reading Din’s body language which was why it was too easy to notice how his entire body stiffened. Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms, bridal style, and began to carry you back toward the ship. Grogu crawled up his dad’s side and found a home on your abdomen where he babbled at you in worry. The babbles were a fantastic distraction from the rage that seemed to waft off Din. When he got back into the cargo hold he carefully set you down after Grogu hopped off. His hands went back to his hip and you could only imagine he was glaring down at you through his visor. 

“Pants off. Now.” He snapped.

You had always dreamed of him saying that to you, but it always had a very different context than your current reality. With a pained sigh, you undid your belt then carefully shimmied out of your pants before leaning back on the metal crate behind you for balance. Din ripped his gloves off, tossing them down in a fit, but when his hands found your thigh his touch was soft and careful. 

Din peeled away the gauze you had applied and you realized you had nearly bled through more than half of the padding you had put down. The sound of a hiss escaped Din’s helmet when he saw your wound and you couldn’t help but wince as well. 

“Don’t move.” He said. Din’s voice left no room for argument as he drifted away. He returned with the first aid kit and you watched him pull out the bacta. You opened your mouth to argue, but the second a sound squeaked out of you his head snapped up to meet your eyes. You didn’t have to guess if he was glaring this time. You could feel the heat of it cutting through the visor and into your soul.

Moments after he applied the bacta, relief began to seep into your thigh. You couldn’t hold back the soft sigh that tumbled from your lips. Din carefully reapplied a new bandage once he was appeased with the amount of bacta he spread around and into the wound. You had hoped when he was finished he would just walk away and leave you to your misery, but you always had been a dumb, blind optimist and the galaxy loved to disappoint you.

Din set his hands on either side of you, knuckles white with how hard he gripped the edge of the crate, and he shook his head. “What happened?”

“I… I tripped. Fell on my knife.”

He sighed, “Are you out of your kriffing mind?”

“No.” You replied. “It’s not like I did it on purpose! I’m negligent, not insane.”

“You tripped, fell on your knife, stabbed yourself in the thigh, and then hid it from me?” Din’s voice grew louder with each event. His words pushing out in what was basically a growl.

You twisted your lips before nodding once. “That is an accurate description of events, yes.”

“Why⏤”

“Because Din!” You interrupted him. “First off, it’s the dumbest injury a person could possibly sustain so of course I didn’t tell you! Forget the karking wound, I nearly died of embarrassment.” You huffed a sigh and shook your head. “And, secondly, I’m so tired of feeling like a burden. You’re always there, taking care of me, and I just… I don’t want to be so dependent on you all the time.”

Din leaned in and you were surprised when he rested his head against your chest. Instinctively, your hands raised to wrap around his helmet, elbows resting on his shoulders. “Gar draar suvarir, tranyc’ika.” He mumbled and you only recognized your nickname. Din lightly shook his head against you. “I want to take care of you. I need to.”

“Why, Din? Why⏤”

“I don’t⏤” Din cut himself off with a grumble. Slowly, he lifted his head back up and your hands fell to his shoulders. “I’ve never been good at expressing myself with⏤ with words. But, I can take care of you. I can show you.”

“Oh.” You replied. Was he…? Did he…? You wondered if this was an admission or if your own feelings for him were biasing your thoughts. 

“So will you please, for the love the Maker, just let me take care of you?” Din breathed out.

You nodded. “Okay.”

Din’s body slumped with relief and he caught you off guard by pushing off the crate and pulling you into his arms for an embrace. His arms around you were tight⏤ as if desperate for the touch. When you leaned your weight into him, letting him hold you up, you heard him let out a soft sigh. One of his bare hands traced up your spine and cupped the back of your neck. Feeling the warmth of his hand press against your bare skin made your eyes flutter close.

“It’s a common mistake.” Din said quietly. It took you a moment to pull yourself out of the haze of bliss you had been lost in to hum out a reply. “I tripped and fell on my blade once.” 

Your lips pulled up into a smile. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, tranyc’ika.” Din replied. He chuckled. “Granted, it happened when I was seven.”

“Okay, touching moment of comfort, officially over.”

A laugh bubbled out from Din’s helmet, the sound comparable to a fresh breeze with the exhilaration it brought you. He pulled away from you, but left his hand on the back of your neck. Din quickly leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours for a few seconds, before his hand fell away an the moment truly ended. You stared at him as he collected the first aid kit to put away. Before he could leave, your hand shot out to grasp his wrist.

"I..." You paused. "I think I'm better with words. And I, I just want you to know that you're so important to me, Din."

"I know." Din nodded. He flipped his hand over so he could squeeze your hand, and it brought a smile back to your face. "Now put your pants back on. Your stab wound interrupted our date."

"Wait, our what??"

mando'a translations:

Gar draar suvarir: You don't (never) understand.

tranyc’ika: sunshine (sunny one)