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starhvney · 5 months

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𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd garroth, gene, laurance, travis

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff? literal hurt/comfort

𝐂𝐖: mentions of injuries but no in-depth descriptions

𝐀/𝐍: me when i spend more time finding the pictures for a good picture header than actually writing. i also did not proofread at all so i'm so sorry for any typos or hiccups in my writing

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

the fight has long since been over, yet after searching every corner of the village, you still saw no sign of the head guard. as your last resort, you hurriedly rush across the ruined plaza, climbing over rubble as you descend into the village mines.

you find him there, tucked back in the main tunnel and slumped over as he holds a cloth over a gash on his side. his gloved hand fumbles with some medic supplies, though his shaky hold renders himself useless as they tumble to the floor.

“garroth,” you sigh, relieved but also annoyed by his insistence on never asking for help.

he flinches, caught off guard by the blood loss dulling his senses. even now, he stoically has every layer of his armor on except for his chest plate, even his helmet stays firmly against his skull.

“i’ll be alright, my lady,” he starts, though the pained wince he lets out a moment later immediately discounts him for his claims.

quietly, you approach him, kneeling in front of him and pulling the first aid items out of his grasp. while you can’t see his face, you hear him inhale sharply to protest against you. you silence him with a stern glare, to which he sinks back into the uncomfortable stone without a word.

“you are much too stubborn,” you chastise, reaching to his other hand to remove it from his wound. “your pride will get you killed.”

you cringe as he peels away the blood-soaked cloth to reveal a deep gash along his side. it's a slash and not a stab, thankfully, but it would still need stitches.

it seems he already knew that, based on the thread and needle he had yet to even tie together. while maneuvering the stitching thread into the eye of the needle, you listen to his shallow and shaky breathing underneath his helm.

“aren’t you having trouble breathing with that?”

“…no.”

your eyes dart up, narrowing at the eye slits of the metal in front of you.

“it's just me. i understand you want to hide your identity, but when it comes to your health—“

you lift your hands up to his helm, firmly placing them on each side before pausing, waiting to hear for any protests. when you hear none, you slowly lift the metal, sliding it off of his head and revealing what was underneath.

for just a moment you freeze, eyes locking onto his. his hair was a stunning sandy blonde that brushed over his brow line in soft curls. they stuck to his forehead, that had a sheen of sweat over it. you could tell his stunning eye color was dulled over by pain, eyelids drooping and his lips pale.

“…there,” you set the helm down, focusing back on his wound. “now you can breathe better, right?”

“…yes.” he winces, leaning back on your command and revealing his wound again.

carefully, you stitch the wound closed, lifting his linen shirt up enough to allow yourself to wrap the bandaging around his stomach. when you’re done you sit back, wiping your hands against your already dirtied clothes and releasing a deep sigh.

you look up, watching as his jaw clenches and his eyes dart to your feet. he still looks pale, but he at least looks more stable than before.

“garroth.” you call, voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes trail up to yours, hesitant and full of a strange sort of guilt.

“you did a good job protecting me. protecting the whole village. but even the strongest need help,” you take his hand in yours. “at least let one person take care of you in return. i was really worried about you.”

he doesn’t say anything, but you know he understands, swallowing down his deep-set need for independence to put himself in your shoes for a moment.

“there’s a cot down here. why don’t you rest, and i’ll bring you back some food and drink to help you regain your strength.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

you knew something was strange, when the beginnings of the evening cricket chirps grew silent, a heavy feeling settling around your cottage. despite the uneasiness and natural instinct that told you to run, you instead looked around the area for the source.

despite the lack of night critters, you notice a strange fluttering of butterflies dispersing from the other side of some shrubbery. you push through the leaves and twigs, noticing the further you advanced the more wilted the plants became.

on the other side was a man in strange armor you hadn’t seen before. the metal must’ve been smoldering hot, somehow, because the grass around it wilted and burned away from its touch. despite the strange sense of uneasiness in your chest, you take a few steps towards the man, his form slumped over a large stump.

“sir? are you alright?”

he flinches, hand moving unnaturally quick towards a large sword you didn’t realize he had by his side until now. you stumble back with a startled gasp, hands raising in surrender. dark circles line deep blue eyes, black hair stuck on his face where blood poured from a wound.

“i’m not an enemy!” you quickly say. “that injury looks bad, i can help. i’ll go get some bandages for you.”

you quickly run back to your cottage, retrieving your satchel of medical supplies before he could say a word. whoever he was, he seemed dangerous. and the faster you help him the quicker he’ll be on his way and the less likely anything else dangerous is led to you. when you return, he’s still there, though he’s propped himself up in a sitting position and leaning back against the stump.

“i don’t need any help.”

“well those wounds look pretty deep. and… you’re the one who ended up near my home, so,” you carefully approach him, heart beating erratically fast in your chest. it felt like you were approaching a predator—a wild animal pretending to be a man. “the faster i help you, the less likely whatever did this to you comes near my garden.”

his gaze stayed trained on you for a moment, piercing into you as you kneel next to him. his eyes were a beautiful shade, yet so strangely unsettling and dull. as you glance at them, it almost appears as no light shines from them at all. he smirks, a strangely amused laugh leaving his lips like he found your assistance to be completely entertaining.

“ah, there’s the motive.”

you ignore him, instead using a cloth to wipe away the blood from the side of his head.

“what’s your name?”

“what’s yours?”

you restrain a sigh, biting back the sarcastic quip you wanted to return and instead reciting your name back to him.

“…gene.”

“nice to meet you… gene. how did you get this hurt? are you…” you glance down at his strange armor and sword. “a guard, our some kind of soldier…?”

he says nothing.

“alright, then,” you clear your throat. “no more questions.”

you finish cleaning his head and neck, where another wound was, and carefully place the healing ointment you made from your own magicks herbs. trying to ignore the strange sense that you needed to run away, you finish up your work by placing bandages over the gashes… that seemed to already be healing pretty quickly.

“there. you’re set.”

a small, “thanks,” leaves his lips, and the two of you met eyes. he seems to contemplate something, before another huffing out another amused laugh.

“you’re very…naive. you should be careful.”

“…what?”

his hand is suddenly in front of your face, cold fingers touching against the skin of your forehead and dragging down, brushing your eyelids closed. somehow your eyes grow impossibly heavy, your head too much to hold up as you slump over, landing in the arms of ge…

…of…who again?

the birds chirp the next morning as you groggily wake from what felt like a coma of slumber. you feel like there was something important you needed to take care of, but you must’ve fallen asleep early last night. you must’ve been exhausted… you don’t even remember carrying yourself into bed.

oh, that’s right! you had to help… you had to… what was it you were up to last night?

your slump from where you sit, blinking at the floor in confusion.

it must not have been too important.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

it’s terrifying, looking into blood red eyes where iridescent pale blue ones had been before. it had only been a split moment—you two were ambushed, a thief’s sword grazing against your cheek and knocking you backwards in surprise as a whole gang of them emerged from the tree line.

laurance suffered an arrow wound, but before you could panic it wasn’t his blood that soaked the ground… but instead the whole dozen of men who tried to attack you.

you stare horrified as dark red drips from him, unsure if it was his own or from the bodies around him. he’s breathing, so heavily, face turned away from you as he stills in the center of his carnage. a few moments pass like this, your eyes trained cautiously on the dulled shade of caramel hair that lays messily on his head.

“…laurance?” you call out quietly, your voice barely a timid whisper.

he turns to look at you, eyes red and glazed over as he begins to trudge towards you. something about the dark circles and his paled skin splattered with blood frightened you, your uncertainty heightened by his silence and now much taller frame. he towers over you, breaths heavy and sword still tightly gripped in his hand.

“it’s me!” you shakily yelp, regretting your reaction immediately when he flinches, eyes widening.

“…and i’m me.” he frowns, his larger hand brushing against your injured cheek. “you’re scared of me.”

“…no.”

he stares at you, eyebrows pinched together. he doesn’t call you out on your bluff with words, but the look he gives you is enough.

“i felt that something was off. i should’ve done something sooner.”

“it caught me off guard, too. we’re both tired, so—“

“i’m supposed to protect you. now you’re hurt.”

“it’s only a graze, laurance.” you silence his anger towards himself, your hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. “you’re hurt more than me.”

you reach in your satchel, pulling out some healing ointment and bandages you were sure to pack for the journey. he begins to shake his head, hand engulfing yours as he stops you.

“i’ll heal on my own. you know that shadow knights—“

“this will help you heal faster. and help with the pain.”

he sighs, taking a seat on a nearby rock and complying with your insistence despite the lack of need for it.

there were only a few gashes that were deep enough to not be sealed up immediately, dark red blood oozing from the lacerations. you put your focus on cleaning each one, swiping on the ointment and wrapping the bandages carefully onto his wounds.

when you look back up at his face those calm blue eyes have returned, staring back at you as they dart over your face. he takes the ointment from your hands, and with two fingers he motions for you to come closer.

you do so without much hesitation, allowing his finger to dip into the ointment and dab it across your injured cheek. he lingers his hand there for only a few moments longer, before looking away and putting your things back into your satchel.

“thank you, laurance.”

“stay right next to me,” he looks back up, tone and eyes insistent. “for the rest of the way. okay?”

it’s more of a demand than a request, but you simply nod in agreement, unable to refuse him.

“okay.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

“take your shirt off.” you sigh, sitting next to travis as you dig through your bag.

“woah!” he laughs, a cheeky smirk stretching across his face. “way to be direct.”

you pause, glaring over at him with an unimpressed stare.

“i will add to those injuries. just do it—“

“okay! okay!” he raises his hands up, wincing at the pull of his skin against his wounds. “ow…”

he begins to peel his bloodied tunic from his skin, wincing as he attempts to lift it over his shoulders. you restrain another sigh before you take a glance down at his injuries, instead feeling pitiful at the state he was in. standing in front of him, you help him slide the fabric over his head and off his arms, leaving his whole torso exposed.

a few previous scars litter across the skin, dipping into different divots of chiseled muscles. he was well built—he had to be for the large claymore he wielded—yet he was still lean, muscles standing out due to the low body fat he had.

“like what you see?” he smirks, catching your gaze that lingered a bit too long on his bare skin.

“no.”

he flinches at your quick refusal, jutting out his bottom lip.

“ouch, you’re so harsh.”

“why would i like seeing all of these wounds you’re covered in? you’re lucky it wasn’t any worse or you wouldn’t even be conscious right now,” you scold. “what were you thinking?”

“so you were worried about me…” he peeks up at you through his lashes, lips once again turning up in a satisfied smirk.

you roll your eyes, not saying anything as you begin to clean up his wounds. you can never catch a break with this guy, can you? despite his annoying flirtatious jokes, though, you really couldn’t help the worry and care you felt for him.

he hisses between clenched teeth as you accidentally press against a laceration too harshly, one of his hands reaching up to clasp against your wrist.

“a little more gentle, sweetheart.”

“sorry,” you mutter, shaking your head as you realize what you were thinking.

he doesn’t say anything, instead going quiet as you continue to patch him up. it’s not until you’re dabbing on ointment and healing potions that he speaks up again, his voice strangely soft and unsure.

“you were worried about me, right?”

you pause, glancing down at him. his eyes are strangely… pleading, cool green shining as he searches for an answer on your face.

you gently place your hand on the back of his head, running your fingers through the soft white strands and pulling him forward and pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“yes, i was. don’t be so reckless next time.”

when you pull away, his cheeks have turned a soft shade of red and his eyes have widened, practically bulging from their sockets. slowly, his jaw opens, mouth gaping as he starts to speak.

“you–”

“shut up.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

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dainslavenderhaze · 4 months

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I thought ch 262 would answer my questions (and it did to some extent) but that and the Volume 27 cover just gave me more food for thought 🤡

JJK MANGA SPOILERS

Hoping Gege gets well soon so he can traumatize us more 🥰

Okay, now moving on.

□ Kenjaku □

Starting with the volume 27 cover. Like I said in the previous post, I don't think it's really the end of Kenjaku. Atleast not so easily. For a mastermind who had planned everything since God knows what era, his death was really...underwhelming. Or maybe it's just me and my lore enthusiasm trying to dig deep. But the question is - Will Kenjaku really die before even witnessing the great merger? Something he has been plotting since a long time?

In the volume 27 the smiley face on Takaba's belt is similar to the ones in the background. Except, the faces in the background have stitches running across their forehead. Now, I know this volume contains the entire Takaba vs Kenjaku fight and that could be one of the reasons why the background looks the way it does.

But it could also mean Kenjaku might take over Takaba next. Remember volume 23 cover? Yuki was on it with no signs of Tengen or Choso or Kenjaku. And if the theory about the brain not really being Kenjaku is correct, then it makes sense he could take over someone else even now. Though the only issue here is we don't know whether Takaba was really dead in that chapter or what. (Bro looked like he was napping 😭)

Considering how Kenjaku's imagination runs, I personally think he could make great use of such CT. As Kenjaku himself once said while thinking of the merger - "I feel like a toddler holding a crayon with a blank sheet of paper." And it was mentioned I think? That Takaba's CT can oppose Gojo's.

Also, we haven't seen Kenjaku's original form yet. Or what happened to his body? Is it destroyed? Or it's kept somewhere like Sukuna's? I mean, Gege might draw his original form in this volume since it's apparently Kenjaku's last fight. But who knows? Only time will tell when the volume releases.

I was thinking of the theory about Sukuna. That defeating his reincarnated form wouldn't be enough to kill him. But he needs to be defeated in his innate domain too. [Innate Domain - the place where Sukuna made a binding vow with Yuji and revived him back in S1E6]

Kenjaku is sort of a formless entity. And with the whole body and soul thing, how is he maintaining his CT after all these years if his body has been disposed off? Even Sukuna's body was mummified (by Tengen or Kenjaku? We don't know) even though he split his soul into 20 parts. And lastly, Sukuna even consumed the mummified head to make up for the last finger.

What if the condition to kill Kenjaku is different? And simply killing his 'brain' or 'CT' isn't enough. Killing his original body along with whatever he's body hopping with is the way. And I'm saying it only because I was rewatching the Yuji and Nobara vs Mahito fight. Where Nobara used resonance on Mahito's clone and the damage was taken by Mahito's original self first and then the damage (sort of reflected back? For the lack of better term) was taken by the clone. I mean if something like this happened, it will set up Nobara's return. Considering that Mahito fight was her last. [Call it copium 💀 but many believed Todo would lose his CT after what happened in Shibuya but look at him now]

It sounds plausible but still idk. We don't know shit about Kenjaku's CT. Gege could literally make anything out of him if he wants or just let him stay dead without even witnessing the merger.

☆ Yuta ☆

262 was a short chapter and we already know what happened. Yuta has chances of living beyond those 5 minutes. And like I said in the previous post, the stitches across his forehead seem to be a part of binding vow that comes with Kenjaku's CT. When Gojo died, his left hand was cut off. But in this chapter, after Yuta took over, the left hand has no marks or signs of stitches. The only place they are? On the forehead. Since the stitches or marks are part of a binding vow that comes with Kenjaku's CT. Just look at his arms below 👇🏻

There's also the thing with Yuta not knowing Sukuna could activate Domain Amplification while using Domain Expansion considering he's in Gojo's body and he should've gotten Gojo's memories about it since Sukuna used it while fighting Gojo too. But I won't go into it. I guess I just saw too many interpretations of this scene that now I feel lazy to even give my input lol.

The final panel of the chapter was Rika holding Yuta's body and crying. And Yuta's body was apparently sutured back. Along with his head I guess? They even put his shoes on and combed his hair 💀 but his ring still remained on his right hand and the status of his left hand remains unknown (or maybe it's just because the art looks rough) 👇🏻

The Kenjaku like marks are not present on Yuta's forehead even though the top of his head looks attached.

Now, the question is -

1) If Yuta already Kenjaku'd into Gojo's body and was fine with staying in his body after the 5 minutes, then why did they stitch Yuta's body back? Going as far as putting his shoes on too?

2) If they stitched his head after the lobotomy, then what's inside Yuta's head? I doubt they'd leave it empty. So did they put Gojo's brain in there?

3) If the ring is on Yuta's body and Rika is fully manifested, then how did Yuta even do it in the first place after getting in Gojo's body?

We know that Yuta needs Rika to use the copied techniques. But I personally thought we'd see the ring on Yutaru's left hand with how it was hidden in the last chapter.

So what is Rika bound to? We know the real Rika Orimoto passed away last year and the one we see now is just a husk. Is the husk a cursed spirit? Or is it a shikigami? So far she has been referred to as an external storage mechanism by Yuta himself and Yuki.

But what would happen if Yuta were to lose that external storage?

That might be the answer to Yuta's survival. With the amount of binding vows we've seen Sukuna making in this fight, it won't be to unusual if Yuta made one too. And I'm talking the kind of binding vow that includes a sacrifice like Yorozu's. The ring is the medium for Yuta to connect to Rika and use his 'copy' CT 👇🏻

What if Yuta sacrificed his ring and Rika and gained her powers? That is, he can use his CT himself without the need of an external aid. Or it's Rika who sacrifices herself or merges with Yuta and he gains the powers? Can Yuta really use all the copied techniques by himself? There's a catch to that as Yuki stated about using multiple CTs 👇🏻

If Yuta is the PC and Rika, the external hard drive, what about removing said hard drive from the equation? And expanding the storage of the PC itself. Would it not work? Of course one can't manually just expand their brain capacity, but what about refreshing his brain through constant RCT? Like Gojo did? It also ties in with how Gojo can come back.

Lmao I yapped too much. I'm ending this post here. Once again, who knows if I'll make another post regarding the last line or not? 🤡

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk 262 #jjk spoilers #kenjaku #yuta okkotsu #gojo satoru #takaba fumihiko #jujutsu kaisen theory #can anyone tell these are my 3 am thoughts? 💀

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steele-soulmate · 9 months

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 537, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

WORDS: 1253

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

I came to slowly, the obnoxious sound quickly driving me close to insane.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

But such a serine feeling of safety and love was next to me, just a little to my left.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

I wrenched my eyes open, and my eyes saw a truly magnificent sight.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

One Peter Thomas Ratajczyk was wearing only a pair of extremely loose sweatpants and a band for an IV wrapped around his forehead. He was shirtless, cradling three tiny babies across the vast plain of pure manliness.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

They are so beautiful, my love.

“Yes, they are, sweetheart,” he rumbled, leaning over to press a simple kiss to my forehead. “You had everyone scared for a while.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Why?

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Your blood pressure was through the roof,” he explained as one of the babies, donned in a blue bonnet, green socks and a diaper, let out an adorable yawn, a tube in his nose for easy feedings. “Once I got into the operating theater, you calmed down enough so that the doctor could perform the surgery.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

How long have I been asleep?

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Twenty three hours,” Peter told me after glancing at the clock. “Isabelle took the kids home last night and they’re all waiting out in the waiting room for you to be awake and give them the okay to come in.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Yeah. Okay. They can come in now.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Yeah?” he chuckled, swiping his phone from the table and dashing off a quick text message.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Laughter and cheers sounded out from the hallway before a band of inflatable dinosaurs erupted into the room, giggling and making dinosaur noises alike.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Peter and I both erupted into laughter at the return of the inflatable dinos, little girl parading up to me.

“Mama Wen Wen?” she meeped, dancing on her tiptoes as she held her arms up. “Uppie up ups?”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

I couldn’t stop laughing as a nurse popped her head into the room, cackling at the sight of the cluster of tyrannosaurus rexes, who had apparently terrorized the hospital. She came over and unzipped little girl before lifting her up onto the bed next to me.

“Baa bee?” she asked excitedly, wriggling as Peter expertly handed over of one the little boys, keeping the other two babies on this chest. “Baa bee?”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Bitty and Katie went with the triplets to where the doctors weighed them and cleaned them up,” Peter explained in a soft voice. “I stayed with you while the doctors stitched you up and transferred you to this room.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Hello wittle baby,” she hummed, gasping with delight when I helped her to cradle her newborn baby brother.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Mommy?” Baby Tommy toddled over, being helped out of his inflatable dinosaur costume and lifted up onto my other side. Peter handed the nurse the baby in the pink hat, who she brought over for the chubby little man to hold. “Mommy, Baa bee Joojoo is pwetti!”

I smiled as Elizabeth and Katie both helped each other out of their costumes before Peter handed them the third baby.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Hey Isabelle,” I greeted her, realizing how dry my throat felt. “How are things?”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Things are really good,” she told me with a gentle hum. “Katie did laundry last night and Elizabeth got in touch with most of the family. Jackie is in the waiting room with food.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“My love?” I then remembered my husband’s own medical plight. “What happened with your vasectomy surgery? I sensed that something went wrong, did that instigate the triplets’ birth?”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“I suffered a nasty allergic reaction to the anesthesia used,” he explained. “The surgery wasn’t performed after all, and I’m to heal for at least a full month before the doctor attempts performing the manly snips again.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Hey sweetheart, can you look at me, please?” he asked me, coming around to take a seat on the side of my bed, dragging an IV pole dripping fluid into my arm. “You are a whirlwind of emotions right now, and that is perfectly normal. You just had a traumatic procedure done on you, and now your body is playing catch up from before you got pregnant with three remarkable babies.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

My lower lip tremored for a brief moment before my eyes were overflowing with fat, jibbly emotional tears.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Don’t cry, Mama Wen Wen.” Bless little girl and her caring personality. “Need tissue?”

Over to the side of me, Baby Tommy was singing to Baby Jojo, just a continuous loop of words as the little brunette baby stared at her big brother with her mother’s blue eyes. The baby that little girl was cradling had my brilliant red curls and his father’s hazel blue eyes.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“Sweetheart.” I turned my attention to Peter, who was holding out a box of cheaply made tissues for me to blow my nose with. “Baby Mattie was born first, then came Baby Teddy, and finally, Baby Jojo. She has a mild form of Spina Bifida called occulta. The doctor told me that surgery would not be needed, and that she is a perfectly healthy little lady.”

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Wah… wah… wah… sniggled Baby Teddy before erupting into a sudden WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… screamed Baby Mattie, both babies screaming their heads off as Baby Jojo slept on as only an extremely sleepy little baby could do.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

The babies continued to scream as a new nurse popped her head into the room, smiling at the girls getting bottles of mommy milk ready to be devoured. Elizabeth popped her bottle onto my husband’s travel sized bottle warmer while Katie fitted a bottle with a bag of mommy milk.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

I smiled as a sudden rush of pure, raw exhaustion settled over my mind, and so I sat back, relaxed and closed my eyes.

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

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atticuswritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Hawks x Broken!Reader

Summary: Hawks regrets breaking you.

Warnings: yandere themes, injury mentions, blood mentions, physical and emotional abuse mentions, suicidal ideation, attempt mentions, forced captivity

Word count: 1.1k

The cool glass pressed against your forehead. The nightlife never got boring from up here. The lavish apartment Keigo had kept you in was dark, dinner ice cold on the table by now. He’d warned you it was going to be late by the time he got home, but you decided to wait nonetheless.

He would’ve expected dinner at 6 anyway, late or not. The cameras still watching your every move. You had prepared dinner, as usual, the routine he’d molded you to fit, it was something Keigo credited to you becoming a perfect housewife.

You hated it.

Your previous attempt at finally being free of the cage he’d put you in still throbbed. You were—quite literally—caged in like a common parakeet. It didn’t help that he called you “dove” either. Now, you couldn’t even really breathe properly without threatening to pop the stitches in your back.

You could feel the gashes stretching as you leaned forward against your knees. Keigo’s handiwork serving as a blatant reminder that if you were going to try and fly away, you would have your wings clipped.

Not that you ever had wings in the first place, nor the ability to fly. However, diving headfirst off the balcony was enough of an 'escape' attempt for him to punish you. Two deep gashes on either side of your spine, held together by string and pain. The marks were a reminder that death as a freedom was torn away, the pain being more than you could ever handle.

You couldn’t get out of bed for two days post punishment, the bruises from the beatings adding on to your pain. Keigo made sure to smother you with kisses and care before returning to work, a reminder that his punishment was "for the best".

You didn’t want to try and escape again. Besides, a bird without wings had no reason to leave the cage, right?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a thump on the balcony. A familiar jingle of keys and a jiggle of the door handle, and suddenly he was home.

“Hey there, little dove,” Keigo chirped, discarding his gloves and jacket on the dining chair. His eyes surveyed you, then the room, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner, since it’s probably cold, do you wanna order takeout?”

You stayed quiet, he’d never offered to order anything, always insisting you should cook. Was this a trick?

When you didn’t answer, Keigo strode across the room until he was in front of you. His hand was placed firmly under your chin, yanking your jaw up to meet his gaze.

His hardened features suddenly went soft.

Keigo searched your face for any sign of defiance, any hint that you’d try to hurt him, or yourself, but there was none of that.

“Dove,” Keigo started, “I asked you a question.”

You swallowed roughly, struggling against the position he was holding you in.

“I-it’s ok, I can just remake it.” You offered, trying to push yourself up and off the windowsill.

As soon as you stood he stopped you firmly by your shoulders, still searching your face, your body. To him, something wasn’t right.

“What’s up with you?” He asked blatantly.

You froze, was this another trick question?

“I..” you started, not being able to tear your eyes away from his gaze, “I’m just hurting.”

You answered honestly, not sure if that was what he wanted to hear.

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, making you wince.

“It’s ok if you don’t make dinner tonight, dove, we can order in Chinese food or something. A new restaurant just opened up down the street, would you like to try that place?.” He asked softly.

It was your turn to search his face for any hesitation, any sign this was a trick, but there was nothing.

You slowly leaned into his chest, searching for warmth, for any hint of love that would show you he wasn’t upset with you.

Keigo gently wrapped his arms around your waist, careful not to hurt your back any further. This softness was your answer. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

In his mind, Keigo felt bad. Images of you screaming and crying under him as he used his own feathers to cut into your back, only minutes after he had laid several strikes on your entire body. He remembered your sobs for hours after your punishment. Rocking back and forth while he stitched you up and bandaged you until you cried yourself to sleep. Today marked one week since it happened.

Keigo could sense a change in your demeanor since the moment it happened. You were more submissive now. He didn't have to ask you to clean up or make dinner anymore. It was done without asking, often better than he expected.

You clung to him now, afraid of his next move.

"Dove," He started, pulling away from you, "I'm serious this time, we can order food. I know you're not feeling well."

"Keigo, it's fine-"

"Y/n." He shushed you once more. "It's ok."

You accepted defeat, realizing he wasn't going to let up.

"I'll order as soon as we clean you up." His hands slipped under your jacket, tracing over the wounds.

Taking your hands, he gently pulled you towards your shared bedroom. You were instructed to lay face down on the bed, removing your jacket to reveal the array of bandages underneath.

Keigo sent his feathers to retrieve medical supplies while he cut the old bandages off your body.

Both of you were silent as he carefully cleaned up some of the stitching and dried blood. God there was just so much it felt like you were coated in a thick layer of it. It was painful, too. Dealing with gashes that large and so many bruises had Keigo wincing at the sight of his work.

He also took into account how many times you whimpered or winced at his touch. No doubt about it, you really were in pain, so much pain. As he finished rebandaging your back, he took into account the dark bruises that had yet to show any signs of improvement. God, how hard did he hit you?

You didn't really move as Keigo put away the supplies and walked around the bed, laying on the sheets with you. He was on his side, wings hanging off the bed as you stared at each other.

You didn't even notice you were crying until he frowned at you. He pulled you into him gently, letting you cry out whatever you were feeling.

Internally, he hated himself. Keigo didn’t like this new you. There was no fire inside you anymore. He was happy to have a housewife, but not at the cost of you losing yourself.

Keigo wept silently as he held you, realizing how badly he had broken you.

He never intended it to be like this.

#keigo x y/n #mha keigo x reader #mha x y/n #yandere hawks #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere keigo x reader #yandere keigo takami #hawks x y/n #yandere #hawks fluff #hawks angst #keigo angst #keigo fluff #yandere headcanons #hawks x reader #takami keigo #mha hawks #pro hero hawks

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emerald-chaos · 2 years

Note

I want a writing for marc

I hate you. But fine.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Word count: (tbd bc I did this on my phone but it’s relatively short jshdys)

Warnings: explicit language, medical speak, slight bodily injury requiring stitches, mentions of Steven.

“Just hold still.”

The voice coming from in front of you was gruff—there was a venom interlaced within it that you were all too familiar with.

The dry Egyptian heat had a way of making literally every little thing worse in this situation. It felt like it was almost impossible to cool down and the sweat that ran down your skin stung as it passed the wound above your brow.

“For fucks sake, I’m working with a goddamn needle here!” Marc threw his body back in the chair, stopping his stitch work to move away from you.

“I’m sorry!” You shout back, anger beginning to fill your body with even more heat. “You try getting your head bust open and then stitched back together without anything. It fucking hurts!”

Marc looked at you as you spoke—an annoyed look living in the wrinkles between his eyebrows as they furrowed. After a moment of maintained eye contact, you saw his body language soften ever so slightly. It was just like Marc to realize after the fact that he was being a prick.

“I’m sorry. I’m almost done. Probably…two more stitches, okay?” Marc’s voice was softer. Not quite to Steven’s level, but still a contrast to his earlier tone.

You blinked a few times before letting out a heavy sigh and snatching the bottle of brown liquid from the bedside table. The liquor burned as it cascaded down your throat. As you wiped your mouth with the back of your arm you gave Marc a small nod to signal him to keep going.

Marc leaned back in and began working once more on the gash residing inside your forehead. The pain felt slightly less than the previous time and you were able to breathe through it with your eyes closed.

Marc’s hands were skilled at a lot of things, so you weren’t necessarily surprised to find he was able to do stitches. Especially not within his line of work.

A moment later you felt the sharp sensation disappear and heard a sigh coming from the side of you. You opened your eyes to see Marc gathering up his supplies and cleaning the area he was working in. After tossing everything, he sat back down and grabbed a stack of gauze.

Saturating the gauze in a clear liquid, you watched as Marc then pressed the material gently against your forehead. The coolness of the liquid pulled a sigh from your lips—a welcomed sensation in comparison to the heat that surrounded you.

Marc’s hand moved slowly as he watched the way your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing began to slow.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Your eyes opened to meet his concerned ones, brows still pulled together in a furrow.

“I know. I’m sorry. But you were kind of getting your ass kicked and I really couldn’t stand there and just watch that happen.”

Marc looked at you for a moment before shaking his head, a small smirk threatening to dance across his lips.

“It wasn’t me getting my ass kicked.” Marc grumbled as he stood up and walked over to the liquor bottle.

Before you had a chance to retort, Marc began to speak again.

“That was Steven.”

#Marc Spector #Marc Spector x reader #moon knight #moon knight spoilers #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x you #Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac character #Steven grant

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagines

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 16: EPILOGUE

SUMMARY:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of sex, drugs, and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here.

Previously > Chapter 15 > Cadenza

MASTERLIST

Fic Trailer

"I swear to god, Haechan, if you don't stop picking on your stitches, I am going to put you in a straightjacket."

Haechan made a pointed move to put his hand to his side with a roll of his eyes. He heard Mark snicker beside him, but before he could turn and throw the other a snide remark, he felt the slight dipping of the couch he is currently sitting on. A gentle but firm hand angled his head slightly as the girl beside him peered at his wound.

"It's healing well…" she whispered now as she looked closely at the base of his spine. "Seriously, I've done nothing but patch you up. Why is it always you?"

This time, he gave a sarcastic scoff. "I don't know, maybe you should ask the guy who drove his gun down my neck. Yah, Jaemin-ah. Make your girlfriend stop. She's talking my ear off."

The boy in question gave him a deadpan stare from the seat across from him. He looked frustratingly calm for someone who seemed like he just got out of a brawl with the still purple bruise on his left eye and the cut on his lip. Jaemin gave a wave of his hand before crossing his arms over his chest again.

"I'd listen to her if I were you. She's not kidding about the straightjacket."

"Anyone saw Jisung? He didn't die in his sleep, did he?" Jeno asked with mild concern as he walked over to their little group huddled in one of the rooms of the headquarters. He also looked a little worse for wear with the bandages covering his forearm and a portion of his shoulder. Renjun briefly looked up from the laptop he had been slaving over for the past hour to answer him.

"No, he woke up earlier just to chug down a glass of milk and then he went to sleep again. He's still recovering."

"What are you doing though?" Chenle asked as he peered over the other's shoulder from where he sat. His forehead creased seeing the multiple windows pulled up on the screen.

"I'm trying to see what happened that day we were attacked because no one would tell us."

Mark sighed as he leaned back against his seat with a wince. His back was still hurting from his own injuries, but it was definitely better now that they've been given some time to recover.

"I told you, you should all just wait. Doyoung-hyung said they are going to make an official announcement soon."

"You sure you don't know anything, Marky? Because it would be really mean if you're just not telling us things," Haechan asked with a suspicious hint to his tone.

"Hell no. Ask Jeno. We're in the dark, too."

Well… that's not entirely true. The day they were dispatched for their Busan mission, Taeyong gathered him, Kun, Doyoung, and Jungwoo to tell them about some vital information that has literally been sitting under their noses all along. To say that Mark was surprised to know who the true heir to the Donship was would be a kind understatement. As one of the kids raised by their "big sister," it never crossed him to look deeper into her history and identity. He knows that she is one of the earliest members of the family, but he didn't expect anything other than that, especially since she seemed to try her hardest to stay under the radar.

The revelation, however, explained a lot. Mark could easily see now why they were exhausting their manpower just to try and save the Don's wife—her mother—and why Taeyong… who previously didn't give the slightest interest in fighting for the position of family head, suddenly made the decision to go against Jihoon. Mark may be younger than the rest of his 127 members, but he is also the leader of Dream for good reason. His keen sense of observation easily dissected the true full picture to him.

Taeyong might be doing it for their brotherhood, but he is also doing it for her.

In the end, he and Kun were given the choice to share the information with their own units. Mark, however, opted to keep it temporarily to himself for a couple of reasons. First, because he doesn't feel like it is his place to reveal what he just learned, and second… because he wants to spare his members from the weight of the information in the event that they get caught and tortured during their mission. It was a tough decision, but as it turned out, was the right move to make.

"Noona," Chenle suddenly turned to the sole girl in their group who has now moved over to sit beside Jaemin. "You're not keeping anything from us, are you?"

"No," she answered with an exasperated sigh as she reached out to dab an antiseptic strip at the lip of the boy beside him. "I told you everything I know. The moment you guys left, Taeyong-hyung and unnie left in a rush. I never saw them again after that."

"It says here there was a notice blasted to the whole family," Renjun squinted at his screen. "So that means…"

He didn't finish what he was about to say. He didn't need to, because everyone in the room knew the exact implication of his words. After being rescued from Jihoon's private military who held them hostage, they were all temporarily kept in a safe house to recover. While there, none of them had any other news of what happened in Seoul—not until they were finally sent back to the city a little over a day after. Even then, all their hyungs kept their lips tightly sealed, as if they were waiting for someone to finally give them the signal to break the news. From the looks of it though, everyone are in the same page as they are, only having a slight idea of what has really happened.

All of them had their guess though. It really wasn't that hard to make a conclusion if you put two and two together.

"Maybe they're just waiting for Taeyong-hyung to fully recover…" Jeno offered. As per what they were told, their leader and a few others, including their big sister were heavily injured during the confrontation with Jihoon. Everyone glanced at him, knowing exactly what he was trying to say.

"You really think he is the new Don now?" Jaemin voiced out the question that everyone's been wanting to ask. The boys exchanged glances before Mark finally shrugged and broke the tension.

"Most probably. I mean, who would it be if not him? The psycho killer from Busan is dead."

"And we're sure the old boss is history," Renjun said as he flipped his laptop to show the screen to them. He tapped it with his forefinger, pointing at a black section on its far left side. "No family sigil. That means we'll be getting a new one."

"That's freaking cool," Haechan smirked as he rested his boot-covered feet on the coffee table in front of him. "To think we actually will experience a change of leadership this early. I thought the old man would either hold it until he stumbles to his grave or that crazo would."

"Is it really such a big deal for you guys, though?"Jaemin's girlfriend asked now as she finally locked the lid of her medical kit. Her tone sounded genuinely curious, not surprising since she had just recently joined the family.

"Well… yeah. It kinda is," Mark said as he leaned back deeper against the couch. "We do take brotherhood and blood ties very seriously… but we also need to have a good leader to keep the family together. If we don't believe in the person heading the family, it could break us apart."

The girl frowned now, a little confused. "Really? Has it happened before?"

"It actually has. It's the reason why our seniors left—you probably haven't heard of them but they were the most active group before us. They called themselves EXO," Jeno explained.

"They left because they didn't like the management of the former Don. It was a good thing they decided to formally retire rather than create their new faction, or else we would have been left with no choice but to be rivals with them," Mark added.

"That's complicated… so for your group, it means…"

"Each unit will be asked whether they want to continue being part of the family once the new head has officially been announced. It's part of the rules, or at least, that's what I've read," Renjun said as he picked himself up from his seat to finally join the rest.

"If it's Taeyong-hyung though, then we wouldn't have any problems," Chenle piped in.

Mark nodded. "Right. I did have the feeling he would have broken his affiliation with the Don's house sooner or later if things didn't change." He let his words hang for a bit before finally giving each boy in the room a pointed look.

"Still, we can't really know for sure until the official announcement is made. We still don't know who is going to take over—something might have happened while we were gone and the former Don might have cooked up something different. Whatever happens though... we stick together, alright?"

The boys exchanged looks before giving their own silent answers.

"It's 7 Dream or nothing."

******* The cold bite of autumn air whipped against my skin almost painfully. The cardigan I had on was obviously not enough to protect me from the frosty chill of the outdoors, but I didn't mind it, my eyes set instead on the sinking sun over the horizon. It's been days since I stepped foot outside, having been bound on my hospital bed to recover from my injuries. When I finally managed to stand up without half dying from pain, I immediately took the chance to escape to get a breath of fresh air.

For the first time in days, I finally had the chance to get my thoughts to myself without anyone fussing over me. While I do appreciate the others for worrying about my well-being, I also have things to process and settle in silence. At one point, I assumed Taeyong—who was also on bed rest—sent the order for everyone to leave me alone, giving me time to sort things that I needed to deal with on my own.

The soft creaking of the door behind me alerted me of a new visitor. I didn't turn around to look at the newcomer, but I do have a feeling of who it might be from the way light footsteps made their way to where I stood by the rooftop. It stopped a few feet away from me and for a moment, all I could feel was the person's gaze silently watching my back.

"You've always loved watching sunsets…"

I finally turned to face my mother, my eyes colliding with hers for the first time since that night we rescued her. I heard nothing about her other than the news that she was also currently being treated for her injuries in our headquarters, but I was careful enough not to ask anything about her after. This is the first time I actually had the chance to look at her properly, and I would be lying if I say it didn't hurt to take in her presence now as she stood in front of me, very much alive.

She looked exactly the same the last time I saw her before she… died. There were age lines in her face that weren't there before and gray wisps of hair now framed her delicate features but overall, she was still the beautiful woman I've whole-heartedly loved and cherished many years ago. As I stared at her, I saw the same longing in my eyes reflected in hers. She was also drinking me in, trying to catch up with all the years lost between us.

"Why are you still here?" My voice was even and expressionless when I finally spoke, but it was enough to send a look of pain course through her features. She looked away, her eyes moving down to avoid my gaze.

"I wanted to see you…"

I didn't really know what to say about that. I could see from the way she looks that she is sincere with her words, but that didn't change anything she has done for the past few years.

The lies. The abandonment. The secrets.

"I want to know why you did it," I said clearly, my voice unwavering. To be honest, I never thought I would be this calm when I imagined having this conversation in my head, but a part of me was also relieved now that this is finally happening. Both of us knew this time would come, and it is only a matter of us going through it one last time.

My mother didn't look up to meet my gaze, but she did shift it to stare unseeingly at the view in front of her. The look in her eyes told me that she was shifting memories in her head and I looked on, waiting for her to speak.

"I was in love with someone else before I married your father," she started, her voice soft. "I was always meant to marry him, but we never loved each other. He knew there was someone else I've always liked—I never lied to him about it —but we both went through the marriage because it was our duty to do so."

"The leader of the Serpents… it's him all along."

Her silence confirmed my suspicion. A look of pain crossed her face, but she tried her best to hide it before it could fully consume her.

"I never cheated on your father. There was no love between us but I tried to be a good wife to him because we have you. I would be lying if I say my feelings for his rival changed, but we never went behind his back. And then one day, I heard about his plans. He was planning on killing him once and for all so he could have full control over Seoul; and he was planning to use me… and you as bait."

"That was the moment I knew I had enough. I couldn't take it anymore. So I decided to work with the Serpents, make it seem like they will get the bait, and also asked Jihoon for help to fake my death. You were never meant to be hurt, darling. Your father made sure of that, but I also had my own plans to cover for you because I couldn't trust him anymore. That's why it was Taeyong who came for you. He was the only one I could trust when it came to you."

I have more or less already put two and two together and only needed her to confirm all of my suspicions, but that doesn't mean I was spared from the weight of the truth now as she confirmed them, one by one. I could see from the way she looked at me how tortured she was over what happened, but I didn't stop her nor try to comfort her despite her pain. The truth is, despite the lies and the betrayal, I still love her the way I loved her before; but this is something she needed to suffer as a consequence of her actions. She knows this. We both know this.

"But you did hurt me though. More than father ever did."

I could see it. The way something inside her broke.

"You lied to me. You chose me over a new life and another man."

"It was the only choice I had back then. I didn't know what was waiting for me after that—I wasn't even sure if I would survive that night. I didn't want you to live a life on the run."

"So you made the decision to leave me, knowing I would be tortured by your death."

Her frame stiffened before her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"It wasn't part of the plan… you weren't supposed to see your father giving the order to kill me. My death was supposed to have just been one chapter of your life that you could have naturally moved on from. You would mourn like any daughter who lost her mother would before picking up your life again. You were supposed to grow up normally, comfortably, before you take over your father."

I felt more than defeated. For a very brief slip of a moment, I let my emotions take over me as I listened to her piece. A part of me was hoping that hearing all these would finally make me snap and lash out to her, but instead of any overwhelming emotion, it was a slow and strange mix of resignation, acceptance, and understanding that overtook me in the moment. I didn't feel angry, betrayed, or even hurt.

I was just tired.

"That was the problem, wasn't it? You and father… all you had were plans. That was how the two of you lived. It was always political. Strategic. He did it for power. You did it for yourself. You were different, but you were also the same. None of you… ever really chose me."

The look in her eyes would have made me break down if it were any other day, but I soldiered on, my words slow and calm. For a while, I had the desire to run over to her and have her hold me again like she used to when I was young but I kept on, knowing that it could ruin my resolve. I needed this… and I was going to see it through the end.

After being a pawn to all their games, I am choosing my own path.

The words that left me next were calm but final.

"I'm ordering your exile from Seoul. You are not allowed to step foot in this city and any other place the family has control over ever again. If you break this, I will come after you. And I won’t be kind about it."

I could see from the emotions that overtook her features that she was already expecting it, but even that couldn't pin down the overwhelming look of pain and longing that were reflected in her eyes. I could feel a dull pain also throb from somewhere deep in my chest but I easily swallowed it back, my face remaining placid. I didn’t move. None of us did. Finally, she put her head down in a slight bow, a gesture of respect and resignation towards my decision.

"I… understand…"

For a moment, there was nothing but the soft whispers of the wind that could be heard between us. The silence was deafening… but it was also loaded with hundreds of unspoken emotions, questions, and worries hanging in the air between us. I couldn't exactly say how long it stretched, but we both processed it slowly, knowing full well that this might be the last time we will see each other again.

It was my mother who finally broke the silence. Lifting her eyes again, she gave me a look that took every ounce of my power to keep my ground.

"I am so sorry… I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I want to apologize once and for all. I want you to know though that I have never stopped loving you. I will never do."

The stinging pressure behind my eyes was growing but I didn't falter. I faced everything head on, taking every detail in—the pain, the longing, the love. I watched as my mother's lips finally formed a smile, sad but also full of pride.

"I am so very proud of you."

Seven words. The closing of a door. And she is gone forever. Again.

*******

I didn't know how long I stayed staring at the horizon after. By the time I heard the door open again, darkness had already fallen with the stars high up in the sky. I didn't turn around to look at my new visitor, but my guess was confirmed when I felt a warm hand gently pick up mine from the spot on the bench where I was resting it.

"You're cold."

I turned to look at Taeyong who was gazing at me with a gentle look in his eyes. His face was only slightly illuminated by the light of the night sky above, but it was enough for me to notice the way his gaze roamed my face. I moved my fingers so that they were intertwined with his and he answered the gesture by slightly squeezing my hand.

"I'm fine… I want to stay here a little bit longer."

I turned back towards the sky I was gazing at and he did the same, the silence between us comfortable. I had barely seen him while we were both trying to recover from our injuries so we took our time to catch up in our own silent way.

"You let her go…" he said softly after the initial peace we shared. His tone didn't sound like a question, but more like a neutral observation. I let a few heartbeats pass before answering.

"It is safer for her to be as far away from Seoul as possible… She will be happier too…"

"Did you…"

"Yes, I did. Her new husband is alive. If things went well, he'd probably met her back at the airport again."

"And your father?"

That made me fall silent. I haven't talked to him since that night at his mansion, but as far as sources have reported, he hadn’t made any move after it.

"I trust that he will follow my order and won't go after her. But if he does… I will know."

Taeyong glanced back at me after, his gaze heavy yet comforting on my moon-washed face. I knew he was trying to read every single thing that I'm still trying to process, the same way he always did when we were younger. This time though, things are different. I didn’t flinch or hide. I let him see every single thing he wanted to see. The raw pain, the fear, the love.

"I'm so proud of you."

It was only five words, but he almost cracked my resolve with that simple phrase, especially since it was also the last thing my mother said before she left. For the first time since all the happenings of this afternoon, I let some of my emotions bubble to the surface as I looked back at him. Taeyong didn't even flinch, openly taking in the rawness and vulnerability reflected on my face.

"You think I did the right thing?"

"Whatever you feel is good for you, regardless of the decisions you had to make, is the right thing."

I will never get over it, how he always seems to know the right thing to say at any given moment. I've been so focused on trying to keep myself in check, that I've never really realized how much I needed to hear those words spoken to me out loud. He was right. To say I am not hurting would be outright lying to myself, but I also know I deserve everything I decided to sacrifice and finally let go.

"It was never right… even from the beginning," I whispered in the dark, Taeyong listening to me silently. "My father has always prioritized power over everything else and my mother always held it against him for stealing away a life with the person she really loved. All their life they've been running after different things...."

"I guess I did the same though. All along I thought I was standing up for something that I didn't even realize I was also running away from everything… including you."

His eyes, which were already staring at my soul, changed light at my words. It made my heart ache a bit, realizing that even after all these years—and even after everything I've done and haven't done—he still gazed at me with the same openness that he had always given me. Taeyong's lips curved into a gentle smile now which only made my fingers close tighter around his own.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything I've done that demands my apology."

He laughed softly.

"I never and will never ask it from you. You never demanded; and I willingly gave, but if it will make you feel better, then I accept your apology," his smile turned gentler now as he moved his other hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I unconsciously leaned my face against his palm, wanting to have him closer.

"Now that's out of the way, I can say thank you."

His brows shot up and he momentarily paused to stare at my lips before finally deciding to humor me again.

"For what this time?"

This time, it was my turn to smile.

"For always choosing me even during those times I wasn't choosing myself."

Taeyong was speechless for just a little bit. When he spoke again, he had already started moving closer to slowly close the distance between us. He whispered, his breath fanning against my skin.

"And I always will. If I have to, I'll do it again and again."

That would have been the sweetest ending before our lips finally met, but I found my hands pressing slightly against his chest before he could fully lean in. He gave me a slightly confused look as I pushed him back just enough so I could stare up at his eyes.

"I'm not done. I have something else to say."

He looked like he was on the verge of laughing with the way his lips twitched. Still he looked on, willing to humor me to no end.

"Now you love speaking up after holding back for so long. Okay, let's hear it."

I really should have thought of the best way to say this, but a part of me decided to just go along with it, probably because of how long overdue things have been. Even in the chill of the evening air, I could feel a slight heat crawl to my cheeks as I stared at Taeyong who continued looking at me patiently with a small smile. He ever so slightly raised his brow and I swallowed.

"I think I'm…"

"Hmm?"

I sighed.

"I think I'm in love with you…"

If he was beautiful then, then he is absolutely breath-taking now. I knew from the way he looked at me that he was already expecting what I just said but that didn't stop his smile from widening, the light in his eyes dancing. I felt the corners of my lips lift as well before a soft and relieved laugh escaped me. I didn't know just how much I needed to say that out loud until I felt the physical weight from my chest lift.

"I already know that. Now, can I finally kiss you?"

I nodded, my smile almost splitting my cheeks. My hand reached out to tangle with his locks the same time he finally pressed his lips against mine. Unlike the quick desperate kiss we shared back at the night of the stand down, he did it deliberately this time, the both of us taking our time to finally catch up with everything. When we parted, it was only briefly so that the two of us could catch our breaths. Taeyong leaned his forehead against mine, our eyes meeting.

"I guess we're not the same," he whispered and I raised a brow at him as my lips quirked. He smiled, and that’s when I know I’ve made the second best decision that night.

"Because I'm pretty sure I am in love with you."

******* "Are you ready?"

The look I gave Taeyong must have been so desperate because he completely stared at me for a full five seconds before a slight laugh escaped his pursed lips. I frowned at him and he decided to compensate by kneeling in front of the chair I am currently sitting on before resting a hand on my knee. He peered at me and I sighed before avoiding his gaze.

"You okay?"

I gnawed on my lower lip before trying to give him an answer.

"Do we really need to do this today? Can we, I don't know, postpone it a little longer?"

"Babe, it's been about a week. I'm afraid to say this is more than just a little bit longer," he said patiently as he took my hand to squeeze it in his. My gaze moved towards the door, beyond which the rest of the family was waiting. Even from here I could hear the soft chatter of the others beyond, which only made my stomach churn. Taeyong noticed and I felt him press his thumb against my palm to try and calm me down.

There's both good news and bad news. The good news is that both me and him were able to recover well from the injuries we sustained, as well as the few others who were hurt during the fight with Jihoon. The bad news is that I no longer have the excuse to delay making the formal announcement about my new status, which is why I am here now, huddled in one of the rooms of the headquarters, waiting to step out into the room.

To be honest, I also don't know the exact reason why I'm getting a bad case of nerves. Maybe it's because technically, I lied to everyone about who I am, or maybe because I was afraid of being found incompetent to take over the position. If I'm going to be completely frank, I didn't really give the consequences of my actions much thought back in the night I decided to step in and take over. The plan, really, was pretty much just a band aid solution back then so we could survive another day. It's entirely different now, however, with the full weight of everything having settled down. Right now, more than anything, everything feels more real than ever.

"Come on, talk to me. What are you so worried about?" Taeyong gently coaxed me before I could even go off on another tangent of my silent worries. I opened my lips to answer him, trying to find my words, then closed them again.

"What if they're angry at me?"

"Why would they?"

"I lied to them about who I am."

"You didn't lie. You just didn't share."

"A lot of people got hurt because of me."

"That's true. But it is part of the job, and there wasn't much you could do back then too because of the things you didn't know."

I pursed my lips and frowned at him. With a final sigh, I let my shoulders slump before looking at my hands.

"What if they don't think I'm good enough…?"

"Do you think you aren't good enough?"

His question made me stop. I glanced at him with a look loaded with meaning as he stared at me, patient as ever. After a few seconds of silence, I finally sighed and looked away.

"Will you help me out there? I'm really bad at this… speaking in public thing."

He gave me a reassuring pat on my knee before he straightened to his full height again. I did the same, smoothing out my hands on pants.

"I got you," he said as he turned to walk towards the door. I didn’t even give myself a chance to look at my reflection in the mirror, afraid to only see pure fear staring back at me. Instead, I decided to ask him.

"How do I look?"

Taeyong glanced at me at my question. He gave me a smile before finally opening the door.

"You look like our new Domina."

*******

The moment we stepped into the room, it was like a dial was turned down, causing the chatter to die instantly into silence. If I was nervous a few minutes ago, I was absolutely petrified now as everyone's eyes bounced between me and Taeyong who moved into the center, looking calm and collected as always. I took the silence as a chance to quickly run a sweeping glance across the room, noting a few faces who smiled back at me when I met their eyes.

Everyone was scattered around the lounges and chairs, looking serious and expectant. Other than the members of NCT, there were also a few familiar faces who joined the crowd like Jaemin's girlfriend who gave me a small friendly nod and Jihoon's step sister who was sitting at the far corner of the room. Nobody seemed to be breathing, but even in their stillness, I could sense the nerves and tension filling up the space like invisible fumes. I was glad when Taeyong finally decided to break the silence—I really didn't think I could have lasted one more minute of it if he didn't.

"I'm glad to see everyone today. First of all, I'd like to thank all of you here for doing such a great job a week ago, when we finally successfully took down Jihoon. Some of us were hurt, but it is still a good thing that we've never lost a brother."

"Second, I'd like to personally apologize for keeping everyone in the dark until today. I am sure all of you are aware of the change that has happened within the family ranks, but we decided to wait until at least our injured members have recovered before making a formal announcement. Thank you all for being patient."

Taeyong stopped speaking for a little while, as if he was giving the room the chance to breathe and catch up. Meanwhile, I tried to desperately swallow the tightness in my throat.

"Today, I'd like to formally make an announcement that a new leadership has finally taken over the family. The rightful heir has stepped over and the change was supported by me as Seoul's capocrimine and Busan's new commander herself. The turning over was rightly approved and allowed by the former Don, as I could personally prove as a witness."

I wasn't looking at him at all, my eyes set on the floor as I stayed still on the far side of the front of the crowd. I knew it was coming though, my heart thumping aggressively against my ribs.

"With that, I'd like to present to you our new Domina. Please... If you could address everyone."

If the room was silent then, it straight up felt dead in the next seconds that followed. A few heads turned in confusion, expecting someone to show up magically behind Taeyong. It was only until I shakily took a step beside him and bowed to the group when I heard a few intake of breaths.

"It is nice to meet all of you. I am the new chief, representing the highest seat of the main family."

******* For a while, nothing and no one moved. I didn't meet anyone's gazes, not until I heard Lucas' loud whisper finally break the silence.

"What the fuc—?"

That was all it took for the room to burst into full blown noise. I quickly glanced at Taeyong before looking at the room with a wince.

To say everyone was surprised would be an understatement. The Dreamies, who were sitting closest to where I stood, looked straight up lost, Jisung blinking away rapidly while Jeno whipped his head towards Mark, Taeyong, and me. WayV, who mostly occupied the back of the room, was almost having a quiet meltdown—I saw Ten quickly grab Kun by the forearm while the latter tried to get his own bearings. 127 was not any better. Other than Johnny who remained calm from the spot he was leaning by the wall, everyone seemed like they were trying to compute everything in their heads.

"It was you? You took it, noona?" Mark asked now, his eyes round as saucers. Beside him, Haechan gasped before grabbing him by the collar.

"What do you mean—you knew she is the heir?!"

Taeil turned to look at Doyoung with a slight look of betrayal on his face.

"You knew too?"

"I only knew that she is part of the main family a week ago but I had no idea that she was—I thought Taeyong was still going to be the one taking over."

"You didn't grow up in China?" Hendery asked, sounding utterly confused. Xiaojun turned to look at him looking utterly lost.

"Did she say she grew up in China?"

"She is fluent with the language—"

"I was trained to speak a couple of languages when I was young…" I said weakly, too soft for them to hear over the clamor of voices. In my peripheral vision, I saw Yuta give a heavy sigh before leaning against his seat.

"I knew it. I’ve always known.”

Johnny shot him an amused look from where he stood.

"Yuta, I’m sure you don't know shit."

"Enough."

Everyone immediately stopped talking at once after Taeyong called out into the room. He gave the crowd a pointed glance before motioning towards my direction with a simple nod of his head. He had stepped over to the side to let me stand in the center, but he remained within reach of me still, something I’m incredibly thankful of at the moment.

"Show some respect in front of our new head. Let her speak."

I glanced at him and he gave me a quick look in return. That was enough to calm me down a little bit as I turned towards the room again.

"Look… I don't really know how to start this but I want to say I’m sorry first and foremost. I owe everyone an apology," I said, my voice thin but steady as I finally addressed the group. I bent my body slightly again into a bow before straightening up once more.

"I hid my identity from all of you which only caused trouble and hurt you all. I know there is nothing I can use as an excuse for that and I would like to sincerely ask for your forgiveness for it," hesitantly, I looked up to check everyone's faces. As expected, their eyes were all on me, drinking my every word. I sighed but decided to push on.

"I ran away from my family almost ten years ago before I met almost all of you. I didn't plan on going back ever so I didn't share my past with anyone. Taeyong was kind enough to take me in while he was starting NCT and I took the chance to start building a new life here."

"I… didn't really have any reason to want to come back until… recently. I’m sure all of you have pieced things together after everything that has happened but I’m willing to answer questions—I owe you guys that. Again though, I apologize. I know we could have saved ourselves from a lot of trouble if I did something in the beginning," I finished shakily. It took every ounce of me to briefly look at the crowd again now to gauge their reaction. Nobody moved. Nobody even seem to be breathing.

I sighed.

"Now that is out of the way… I would understand if some of you… decide to leave."

Taeyong decided to step in at that moment. Hands behind his back, he turned to address the room again as a whole.

"Anyone who wants to cut ties with the family, given the change in leadership, can do so now," he said that evenly, his tone in great contrast with the effect of his words. The room crackled with silent intensity, as if everyone was waiting for something or someone to finally break it. I didn't even realize that I've held my breath as well as I waited for the defining moment. There are really only two ways this can go: either I make the family stronger, or break it entirely.

10 seconds.

20.

The silence was getting longer and it was getting harder for me to breathe.

"I don't know about you all, but this sounds cool. Of course, I'll stay."

Everyone turned to look at Chenle when he finally spoke. I stared at him as well, surprised by how casual he phrased that. He was grinning from ear to ear, and Jisung did the same when he turned to him excitedly.

"Right? Noona's the new big boss now? That's lit!"

That seemed to be the push the rest of the others needed to finally relax. I watched as the others exchanged smiles with each other, looking thoroughly amused. It was like the tension clinging in the air earlier didn't even exist at all.

"For real though? This seems like it’s straight up from a drama," Yangyang piped in from his seat. Sicheng nodded silently beside him before crossing his arms.

"And a girl as a leader. It's about time."

"God, can you believe we had our family head cook us ramen," Renjun winced as if he was regretting a good portion of his life decisions.

"And she also used to wipe snot from Jisung's nose," Chenle snickered, which made the other look at him defensively as a slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"Yah, at least I didn't have a crush on h—"

"Hey, stop it," I couldn't help but cut in now, a smile finally lifting the corners of my lips for the first time since I walked into the room. I could feel myself relax a little especially with the banter taking over the once tense air, but I still wanted to clear things on the get go. "…It's still just me okay? I just… don't want any awkwardness happening with, you know, everything that has happened."

"Damn, right. I'm BFF with the Domina now," Yuta said as he nudged Doyoung, causing the other to scowl at him. "You know what that means? ~Perks~"

I rolled my eyes at him and scoffed. "You bet your Japanese ass that you're not getting any special treatment from me, Nakamoto."

"Ah, there it is. Still as salty as ever. Yes. Nothing has changed at all."

"Well, if that's the case, I guess the only thing we need to do is to make things final," Taeyong smoothly stepped in before I could even give Yuta another go. And just like that everyone went serious again as they waited for their leader to give the final question.

"Those who wish to continue being a member of the family, please state your oath now."

It was Mark who did it first. Looking at the rest of his team quickly, he stood up from his seat by the couch and looked at me with a smile. I waited for his words with bated breath.

"Dream swears to continue providing our support to the family head."

"WayV swears the same. You have China on your back," Kun added with a smile from where he stood. I felt like something was physically lifted from my shoulders as I grinned back at him.

"As it is for 127. The Domina has our support," Taeyong finished calmly as he smiled towards my direction. I returned the gesture at him, the relief and happiness on my face evident. His eyes told me everything he wanted to say at the moment.

I told you so.

I let my gaze linger on him just a little bit more before turning my attention to the others. Slowly, I bowed my body at an angle to show respect and acknowledgement for every single person in the room before giving my own promise.

"Thank you for trusting me. I promise to try my best and do only good for The Family."

"So, what's next? I guess we can make a formal announcement now to the rest of our network?" Doyoung asked, as efficient as ever. "It's usually your caporigime who has to do it…"

"Oh about that, no need to worry," I smiled, eyes twinkling. "I already have some help."

The opening of the door made everyone turn around in their seats. A woman walked in, followed by a familiar face just a few steps behind her.

******* "Jaehyun-hyung!"

Jungwoo's voice rang clear in the room as the pair stopped in the middle of the room. The woman gave a polite bow of her head towards me while Jaehyun remained quiet by her side. He wasn't really looking at anyone in particular, his face unreadable.

"Is he… he's your—" Doyoung asked slowly as he turned towards me. The woman, however, politely cut him off before he could even finish.

"I have already prepared the formal message, Ma'm. As well as your new sigil."

I didn't need to look, but I felt Taeyong's gaze slide towards me. It's true that I have been quite busy with things while I was still recovering, some of which I also kept from him. I knew it was going to be a controversial choice, but let’s be honest, no one can contest that there is nobody else who better knows the ins and outs of the system than the same woman who was by my father's side for the past years. That… and… I have other reasons, of course.

"I've decided to invite her to join me in the family ranks as my formal right hand. I am confident that she will be a valuable addition to the family," I said calmly, causing everyone to quickly glance at me again. Pausing a bit, my gaze landed on Jaehyun who, despite keeping his unreadable look, gave me a glance that was loaded with meaning.

"I couldn't entirely take her away from her husband though...so I decided to invite him back as well," I finally said, the slightest ghost of a smile touching my lips.

"I am thankful for the trust," the woman said as my words sank across the group. Jaehyun took a step forward and decided to speak for the first time, too.

"And I promise to try my hardest to prove myself,” For the first time, he looked up, making sure to glance at everyone in the room. “I won't let any of you down again."

"Oh, you won’t have a chance to,” I said now, my lips slightly twitching from amusement. “You will be under the watch of 127. Yuta will take care of you.” A ghost of a smile also flittered over Jaehyun's placid expression and he gave a slight bow towards his former member who is currently glaring at him.

"I'll accept anything my seniors will ask me to do."

"You bet your ass you will," Yuta said with a low voice before he turned away, arms crossed over his chest. The other members snickered and giggled while I took the chance to finally meet Taeyong's gaze. There was a slight smile resting on his lips, and he was looking at me with pride. He didn't need to say anything for me to understand what he wanted to say.

Thank you.

For bringing my brother back.

"If I may, Domina?"

I tore my eyes away from him to look at the woman who had already taken a few steps towards the front of the room. I gave a slight nod at her silent request and she answered by finally moving beside me. I watched as she slipped a small chip on one of the computers resting on the table, the system of which will send the official message announcing my new role to every single one in the family, from the highest, down to the lowest in ranks. I looked on as she rested her finger on a button momentarily before finally clicking it with a graceful tap of her finger.

A huge message opened up on the screen behind us bearing my name and new title. Under it is the new family sigil: a phoenix with its outstretched wings framed by the outlines of daisies and roses.

I glanced up to check the room once more. Everyone was smiling and I watched as they collectively bowed their heads to formally accept me into their fold. Taeyong did the same from my other side, and I couldn't help but smile back, knowing full well I’ve finally found my way back home.

*******

"You need help with that cigarette?"

Johnny looked up from trying to light his stick at the woman walking towards him. An amused smile was playing at the corners of her lips as she stopped beside him, her elbows resting on the rooftop grills he's also currently leaning on. He stared at her for a little bit as her eyes swept over the view before finally lowering his hands holding his cigarette and metal lighter.

"I thought you left for Busan already."

She answered with a slight scoff.

"You always seem to want to make me leave, don't you? Relax, I'm going soon."

Johnny's eyebrows raised just a little bit. She looked relaxed, even happy as she looked on to the view, the orange glow of the setting sun dancing across her features. He had to admit; she is beautiful, always has been, but there is something different now from the way she carries herself that makes him want to look at her longer. He did try to glance away, however, not wanting to be overly rude and obvious about it.

"How's your brother?"

"Good. He's doing good. He got mild injuries from when he was saved by your kids," she answered, her hands clasping in front of her. She paused before continuing. "He is very thankful… We're both very thankful."

Johnny kept quiet after giving a silent nod of his head. He really didn’t know what to say about that, but he is glad that the boy was saved. He noticed the way she turned towards him again in his peripheral vision and he met her gaze, softer and more open than he had ever seen before.

"I guess I just wanted to say thank you to all of you. And to you most especially."

Well… he wasn't expecting that. He isn't really one who easily softens up to anyone, and surprise moments like this are usually met by either sass or playfulness from him. So that's what he did now, his smile openly turning into a smirk as he looked down on her.

"Oh, so you are admitting that I did do something now?"

"Yes you did. You stuck your annoying ass up in my business which fortunately ended up to something good," she smoothly answered back with the same wit and sharpness. That made him laugh loudly, his voice ringing in the open space. To give her credit, she can perfectly match his pace without batting an eye.

"No, I'm serious though. Your family did save mine. I don't really care much about power or position but I'm relieved the devil is finally dead."

Johnny watched her for a bit and noted the faraway look in her eyes.

"You're going to do it though? Take over Busan?"

She answered with a sigh that sent wisps of breathy smoke into the air.

"Yes. She did talk to me about it, your big boss. I think… I can trust her."

He smiled.

"You can."

This time, it was her who gave him a look. He knew she was about to ask for something from the way he glanced at her.

"Are you two… a thing?"

He answered her with a strange look and a rising of his brows.

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

She rolled her eyes, but he could also see the slight flush that had crawled into her cheeks.

"Well you don’t need to—"

"You did see how she and Taeyong look at each other, right?" He asked, his lips twitching. She frowned as if processing what he just said, before realization crawled up her features.

"Oh."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, you do seem to talk about her fondly."

"Because she's my close friend. I've been there with the two of them when everything was still starting. They're both precious to me."

"Ah…"

Silence settled over them for a bit. From the looks of it, she didn’t want to ask more about the topic so he respected it by letting the trail of conversation naturally die. Johnny watched her from the corner of his eye before slightly clearing his throat after some time.

"So, are you and your brother planning to visit Seoul every now and then? It is part of the job."

She winced. "I guess. I hate how busy it is here, but I guess we can make some exceptions. It also seems like my brother took a liking to some of your kids. He already asked me when he can visit."

That made him laugh. "If he needs anyone to train him, we're always open for it. Dream is really friendly with everyone too. I think they'll be good friends because they’re around the same age."

He felt her stare on him and Johnny did his best to keep himself from smiling. He was already expecting it… now, it's just a matter of whether or not she will have the guts to ask it.

"You can also come visit too," she said softly before clearing her throat and looking away. "To Busan. If you want."

He couldn't help it, the wide smile that curved his lips upwards. Of course, she had the guts to go about it.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Do you want me to ask you out on a date?" She shot back, looking agitated but very very flustered. Johnny laughed and she retaliated by rolling her eyes.

"I’ve always known you're attracted to me."

"Hey, listen here—"

"Which is good because you're cute, too."

That shut her up. For a moment, she just stared at him, mouth slightly open. Finally, she looked away, the blush ever so evident in her face despite the quickly gathering darkness around them.

"Well, that's it then. If you're planning to come, just—let us know, I guess," she managed to say a little awkwardly as she finally pushed back from the railing she was leaning on. She was already almost at the door when Johnny called out to her again.

"Hey. There's a question you haven't given me an answer yet."

She turned to him, a confused look on her face.

"Why did you save me? Back in the club you bombed?"

Her face lit up as she remembered. Instead of answering though, she simply smirked at him as she opened the door.

"Maybe I'll let you know the answer once you visit me in Busan."

******* "Renjun, how does it look there?"

“I have eyes on the target. She’s not moving in her room at all.”

Jaemin and Haechan exchanged a look before the latter leaned over the shared laptop they were both staring at to press a button. Behind them, a door opened, ushering a clueless looking Jeno inside.

“Give us access to your camera, we sent you a request,” Jaemin said from his mic. Haechan tapped away at the keyboard, inputting a code that opened a small window on the screen.

“Wait, what? I thought you guys said we’ll limit the access?” Renjun answered, his tone confused. He was actually only at the other side of their makeshift headquarters for the night, and the rest of the boys could hear the way the wheels of his chair swiveled from where he is currently camped at.

“Plan’s changed.”

“Since when?”

“Since right now,” Haechan hastily answered. “Come on, don't be a kill joy. Give us access.”

Jeno stared at the two before glancing over at Mark and Jisung who were currently sitting on the couch, staring at their own laptop. Chenle was lying on his stomach by their feet, his face concentrated on his own screen.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” Jisung said almost automatically, which only made Jeno even more suspicious. Something he saw on the screen made him gasp, however, and he excitedly pointed at it, his eyes rounding at the boy sitting beside him. “Hyung, she’s leaving!”

“I think she already got the call,” Mark said seriously, a frown creasing his brows. Jeno, realizing that he wasn’t going to get a proper answer from any of his friends, decided to just walk over the others and squinted at whatever it is that they’re watching.

It took him a while to realize what he was looking at, but when he did, he immediately turned to Mark who had now clutched Jisung’s forearm from what looked like excitement. He knows the exact place the rest of his team are currently spying, even more so the person whose movements they are following on the screen.

“Hyung, why are you spying on noona?” Jeno asked now, his voice rising just a little bit from worry. Mark simply shushed him, his eyes never even leaving the screen.

“We’re not spying, we’re just checking for something.”

Jeno turned back at the monitors in front of him and watched as the girl there emerged from her personal office space to make her way towards one of the upper level rooms. She seemed oblivious that she is currently under surveillance, her glance moving from her phone and at the path she was walking on as if she was texting somebody.

“This looks like a whole lot of spying to me. She’ll kill us. What the hell is happening?”

“We think Taeyong-hyung is going to ask her the question today,” Chenle finally answered, his face mere inches from the screen. Jeno looked confused and was about to ask a follow up question when the other quickly waved him off. “Ask noona to marry him, is what I mean. So that’s why we’re watching.”

That definitely shut Jeno up. He blinked once, then twice, letting that sink in. Finally, he slowly reached out for seat before planting himself just behind Haechan and Jaemin. He still looked a little worried and troubled by what was happening, but he peered at the screen now, which showed the girl they were watching take another flight of stairs. Haechan turned to him briefly before raising his brow at him a bit.

“What?” Jeno asked, almost defensively.

“I thought you think it’s wrong to watch, Mr. Lee?”

He gave the other a slight smack on the shoulder. “Shut up. Besides, I don’t think I can stop any of you. Are you sure she won’t bust us for doing this though?”

Before any of them could answer, however, the screen they were all watching turned black. Chenle gasped loudly as Jaemin leaned over his monitor.

"Renjun, what happened? We lost connection."

"Shit. Somebody jumped on our loop in the security cams," the other boy answered in panic. Sounds of his frantic typing echoed in the in-ears of the other boys as he tried to restore it.

"I'm hacking back the lines. Give me a minute."

It took about less than a few seconds before they heard something again. A slight scratching sound crackled from their earpiece followed by a slight ping before another voice came in.

"Yah, yah, yah. You should bet me on this. Come on, you’re no fun at all."

Jisung looked up in confusion.

"Wait, who's that?"

"Leave me alone, Yuta. I told you I am not betting on a losing game," came another agitated answer. Mark's head snapped up before he pressed a button on his mic.

"Doyoung-hyung?"

The voices on the other end of the line shut up, surprised by what they heard. Jungwoo's voice came on next, followed by Taeil.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Are you hacking into the system?"

For a few seconds, the rest of Dream looked into each other in fear. It was Renjun who saved them, his own tone accusing.

"So it's you guys who stole our access!"

Haechan gasped dramatically.

"Aha! You’re spying too!"

Doyoung was quick to jump to his defense. "Look, we're not. We're just checking because Yuta won't shut up about his gossip about Taeyong and I swear I am going crazy if he talks about it for another minute!"

"I told you it is not gossip! I actually saw him with a little box. If you don't believe me then why won't you bet with me—"

"I am not letting you extort money from me again."

"You can't tell on us then! If you do, we'll tell…" Haechan trailed off as he scrambled to make a threat. "We'll tell Johnny-hyung!"

Taeil scoffed from the other end.

"Your Johnny-hyung is currently at the rooftop with Jaehyun scoping the building personally as we speak. He says he doesn't want to watch it on a monitor."

"Damn it, why didn't I think of that myself?" Yuta mumbled in the background.

"Shh! Can you guys just stop bickering? Fine, I'll give access to Dream," Jungwoo said, clearly agitated. "Stop fighting. We might have lost them already!"

And just like that, the monitors opened again, causing everyone to lean towards their screens in unison. The view showed the girl standing in front of the wide windows of the building, her phone pressed against her ear.

"Wait, where's Taeyong?" Taeil asked as he squinted at the footage.

"I don't know. Last time our cameras caught him he was on the ground floor. I thought he invited her to come over to the conference room—" Jungwoo stopped all of a sudden as if he was computing something in his head. Then he gasped, causing everyone in the same room to jump on their seats.

"It's the rooftop, it's not the conference room! He's proposing there!"

"Wait, we don't have cameras there?"

"We do. But they're not connected to our system. It’s a neutral space in our headquarters so we can't hack it."

"Ah, dang it, man. That's too bad," Mark said from his seat. A beat of silence followed before Haechan jumped again on high alert.

"Wait, we can still do something!" Hurriedly, he opened a window from their database and clicked what looked like a call button there.

"What are you doing?" Jeno asked, his eyes trying to make out the details on the screen.

"Asking for reinforcements," Haechan said promptly before straightening up as he heard the line click.

"Hello?"

"Yo, Xiaojun, hey. You busy tonight? We might need your help for something. Just a little favor?" Haechan crooned, his voice sounding sunny and pleasant. He put the call on loudspeaker before the other could answer so everyone could hear.

"Uhh… actually. We're quite… occupied at the moment," Xiaojun answered, sounding oddly distracted. Haechan was about to try and sweet talk him again when the sound of a door opening came on the background, followed by a number of voices.

"Yah. Who left the popcorn in the microwave. It's burning," Yangyang’s voice came on, sounding irritated.

"It's Lucas. He's insisting we need it to watch," Winwin piped in, sounding far off into the room. His voice was still clear though… as clear as Hendery’s who seemed to have just entered as well.

"It's a proposal, not a movie, but honestly, same—"

The rest of his words were drowned out as a scratching noise took over the line before completely muffling the sounds. The mute button blinking on didn't help though, Haechan already screaming at his microphone after he realized what was happening.

"Hey! What are you guys watching?!"

It took a while before any sound came on. When it seemed like WayV didn't have any plans of speaking again, Chenle aggressively talked over, his tone threatening.

"Kun-ge, I know you're there. If you don't say anything I'm going to tell everyone about that one night in Beijing when you stuck your—"

A sharp noise cut his words off, followed by Kun's rushed voice.

"Jesus Christ, Chenle. We were just re-arranging our plans. Calm down."

"Plans for what?" Taeil said, sounding obviously suspicious. A sigh was heard before Ten's voice answered.

"Look, we just hacked into your headquarters' cameras. Johnny told me Taeyong might—"

"Might propose tonight, yes. So you've been watching too?"

WayV's line fell silent before Lucas laughed in the background. "Wah…. Jinja? We were all doing the same–HAHA, that's hila–ouch!" His voice died as the sound of something hitting skin echoed from their end.

"Look, since we're all… doing the same right now anyway, why don't we just share?" Doyoung suggested after clearing his throat, obviously failing at sounding disinterested. It took Ten a few seconds before speaking again.

"Well, we would have, but we can't see them anywhere in your cameras, too. We think they moved to the rooftop and we can't connect to the network there—"

"Unless you have a satellite," Haechan finished before the other even could, causing everyone to fall silent. "Special low-range communication satellites can hack into any system. Right?"

"We… have a satellite," Lucas' voice came on again, sounding as if it is his first time realizing that piece of information.

"We have a satellite," Ten repeated, sounding surprised himself. Not even two seconds have passed before he was barking at Xiaojun.

"DJ, get to it now!"

"Wait what? Are you serious?!"

"Yes!"

"Kun-ge, are you okay with this? I need to get your actual green light, you know that."

A few seconds passed before Kun finally answered.

"I didn't… hear your question."

"What do you mean—"

"I can't understand what you’re asking. I can't say yes or no if I don't understand it," he reiterated, clearly this time. That was enough to make things click, the sound of fingers flying over the keyboard overtaking the speaker after. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, even more so when the monitors opened a new window, now showing a view of the rooftop.

The footage was dim, but everyone could still see the two figures standing in the middle of the space. Xiaojun did a bit more adjusting by zooming in the view for everyone.

Taeyong had his back on the camera they were watching from, but they could make out the form of the girl in front of him, her face partly covered by his frame. They seem to be talking, her hand held loosely by the other. Everyone moved closer to their seats to try and get a closer view, their breaths bated.

"Did he give it already?" Jeno whispered, as if talking too loud would give them away. Jaemin shook his head slightly as he tried to squint at the monitor better.

"I don't know. I can't see her hand."

As if he heard them, Taeyong chose that moment just then to make a slight movement. He took a few steps backward to give himself space and made a motion as if he was about to get on his knees. A few collective inhales filled the room at his gesture; however, the cause of it quickly turned into something else at the next seconds that followed.

Instead of kneeling, Taeyong stepped to the side to stand shoulder to shoulder with the girl beside him. The latter didn't move except for her gaze...

Which directly stared at the camera in front of them.

"Oh, shit."

She sighed, before giving a shake of her head and a rise of her brows.

The next second, Taeyong had the nose of his gun pointed straight at the lens they are watching from. He gave everyone a knowing smile as the girl waved at the camera.

The last thing everyone saw before their view was busted was something shiny sparkling from her ring finger in the dark.

*******

A/N: Finally! I was able to finish this story! After almost eight months, two word lagging documents and thousands of words, I was able to wrap this up! Thank you to everyone who has always supported this story. While there are less of you here (compared at least to my other ones) I really really appreciate all of you for sticking around. Black Daisies is closest to my heart because it is the reason why I started posting here in the first place so it will always be my special baby. I’d especially like to thank everyone who have reached out to me to talk about it because you’ve given me the confidence to continue during times when I felt too lazy to upload it. Anyway, I really hoped you enjoy and once again, thank you for everything! <3

Tag list: @hen-marks99, @negincho, @nctisthecity, @sevenstay, @springdaybreaks, @philanarose, @jaemingold, @yutasnabi

#nct mafia au #taeyong x reader #johnny x reader #jaehyun x reader #nct mafia imagines #nct mafia fic #mafia!taeyong #mafia!johnnny #wayv!mafia #nct dream!mafia #nct 127!mafia

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eggosintheupsidedown · 2 years

Text

"You're the Real Hero" - Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson X Reader

Eddie has been struggling since the day the group went after Vecna. He finally opens up to you about how he's been feeling since that day, and how you've been the true hero behind his efforts.

Word Count: 1696

Warnings: no physical description of reader so fill in the gaps as you'd like! takes place after ST4 so spoilers obviously, minor talk of wounds (stitches and cuts), PTSD , smoking mentioned, Boyfriend! Eddie

It had been nearly 6 months since the events took place in the upside-down. 6 months since you learned about Vecna and demobats, and all sorts of crazy creatures you didn't know existed. 6 months since you met a girl named El with crazy powers. 6 months since your boyfriend Eddie Munson nearly died.

You still remember the day you came home to find a message on the answering machine from Eddie, saying he was going to be a real hero soon, and he couldn't wait to tell you about it over a victory dinner. When he never showed up for your date that night you started to worry and went to his trailer to investigate- that's when you found a lifeless Eddie on the couch, surrounded by Dustin, Steve, Robin and Nancy, a gaping hole (you later discovered was actually a portal) engulfed the ceiling above them.

When you saw Eddie like that you couldn't help but to collapse at his side, holding his bruised hands in yours. His breathing was slow and shallow, and according to Dustin he had passed out after a nasty altercation with some demobats in the upside-down, but he did so a hero. If it weren't for Steve and Robin showing up at just the right moment, you're sure Eddie would've been a goner, and to them you were forever grateful.

From that day forward you pretty much never left Eddie's side. You nursed his wounds back to health, created some semi-decent stitches to close the larger wounds, and when he finally awoke after a couple of days you were the first thing he saw. His lips trembled as he was barely able to make out the words "Y/N... I performed the most metal concert of all time.. I was a hero"

"Yes, you are a hero Eds," You smiled through the tears, kissing him gently on his forehead.

"How's my baby?" he asked, reaching a bandaged hand up as if to wave off the fact that he's literally broken and couch-ridden.

You softly rolled your eyes at the mention of his guitar, "She's expected to make a full recovery, Munson. But she requested you be my primary patient. She can wait."

He smiled weakly, leaning back down onto the cushions as you cleaned his face with a damp washcloth, offering him a glass of water.

Over the next couple months as you nursed him back to health you were terrified of leaving him alone, especially after the group filled you in on all the details of the past 3 years, from Will disappearing to "the giant earthquake" as all of Hawkins was calling it. Although he'd never admit it, Eddie was terrified of leaving your side too.

You'd made yourself at home in Eddie's trailer, his closet now holding some of your clothes and the bathroom now had a bottle of your strawberry-scented shampoo so you wouldn't be without. Even Steve and Robin started coming to Eddie's place to see you because they knew you'd most certainly be there.

Now, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you try to calm your racing thoughts. You always tried to push them down but today they wouldn't stop tormenting you; thoughts of Eddie cold and alone in the upside-down, thoughts of Vecna somehow coming to seek his revenge, and thoughts of you finding Eddie in the trailer that day, dead instead of barely hanging on.

You turn onto your side so you face Eddie, your eyes trailing down to the scars that litter his bare chest. You feel your emotions swell in your throat as you try and hold back the tears. In the darkness you brush the pads of your fingers across some of the deeper scars right over his heart.

You were startled when Eddie's fingers reached up to meet yours.

"I'm okay now, baby, those things had nothing on me," he spoke, voice cracking ever so slightly.

"I'm so sorry Eds, I wish I would've known.. I could've helped you"

"I'm glad you weren't there. It's better that you didn't know.. I was so terrified of loosing you Y/N," Eddie whispered into the night. It was so soft had you not been so close you wouldn't have heard it, "You're the reason I made it out, I knew I couldn't leave you alone in this crazy world" he offered a half smile.

You didn't know what to say so instead you lean in close and place a gentle kiss to his cheek, your lips meeting a stream of tears.

"Eddie.." you reach your hand up to wipe away the drops, eyes searching his in the sliver of moonlight that streamed in from the window.

Eddie pulled himself up onto his elbows, leaning over to turn on the light switch, eyes blinking as they adjusted to the brightness. You sat up straighter, letting your hand drift down Eddie's back as he hunched over to light a cigarette, one leg dangling off the side of the bed. Your fingers continued to trace the scars, in the light they looked much worse, though they were significantly better from when he first got them. You wish more than anything he didn't have to endure the pain that caused them, that by some miraculous way you could go back in time and switch places with him so he didn't have to hurt the way he did. Your eyes drifted to the corner of the room where his guitar stood, he never got around to fixing it after his performance, either that or he simply couldn't bring himself to.

You had long since run out of things to say, but that was okay. Eddie knew you supported him, and it was hard for him to talk about that day as much as it was hard for you to imagine it.

When you had met Eddie, he was bubbly, goofy, and would not-so-literally give his life for his DND party. All things that made you fall for him. Now, although he still put up a goofy front, you knew there was a layer of pain underneath. He would jump anytime someone showed up unannounced, and occasionally, though he hated to let the Hellfire Club suspect anything was wrong, he would have to pass on the title of Dungeon Master and step out for some fresh air.

Nearly every night he'd be awake when you finally went to sleep, and when you woke up again in the morning he'd be up smoking or trying to ease his nerves with a beer. Each time you'd offer an ear to listen but he always insisted he wasn't ready to talk about it. This time, however, he started pouring his heart out to you.

"I wish I could've saved her... Chrissy I mean..." he exhaled, smoke swirling around him as he stared off into the distance. "I wanted to be a hero for once, you know? And now... I proved myself a hero and I can't stop fucking reliving that day..." his hands trembled as he lifted the cigarette back up to his lips.

You run your hands through Eddie's dark curls, gently detangling the knots with your fingers. His personal care had definitely declined, he could barely use the bathroom alone anymore for fear that you'd disappear or worse, be killed by Vecna himself.

"I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through Eds, I was so scared I was going to loose you.."

You wrap yourself around his back, arms crossing in front of his chest. You can feel Eddie relax into your grasp as he exhales another puff of smoke.

"In those final moments I really thought I was going to die. I couldn't focus on Dustin, or trying to stop the bleeding, all I could think about was you. How you'd react to the news that I was gone.. it hurt me to think of that, but it was enough to give me the strength to stay for you."

"You're my hero Eddie... I'd be lost without you," his free hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together. The two of you didn't need a ton of words to understand each other. During moments like this, it was your comfortable silence that brought Eddie's racing head back down to reality.

"Eds?" you whisper, making sure you had his full attention before you continue.

"Hmm?"

"Let's get out of here.. Out of Hawkins. Go somewhere new with no bad memories, start over."

He didn't say anything, but he also didn't object so you continued, "I can't stand it in this trailer, I'm constantly reminded of that day when I see the boarded up ceiling."

Eddie seemed to ponder your words for a few moments before reaching over to put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the side table.

He turned back to you, laying back down on the stained mattress, arms opened just enough for you to rest your head on his chest. As soon as your cheek rested comfortably over his heart he spoke "I think.. I'd actually really like that.. Hellfire Club could hit the road. Maybe I can finally fix up my baby.."

You smiled into his warm skin, taking in the smell of sweat and smoke as his fingers draw mindless patterns into your back. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head and squeezed you impossibly close.

"You know, I've only ever wanted to be your hero," you could feel him offer a soft smile. "But in times like this, I know you're the real hero, keeping me sane and helping me through this crazy journey of life. I wouldn't be here without you."

"We both know I couldn't have done half of what you did for those kids and Hawkins, you are the bravest most metal hero I've ever met Edward Munson"

The room slips back into a comfortable silence, only the sound of his heartbeat filling your ears. As the two of you finally drift off to sleep, Eddie can't hide the smile on his face because for the first time since that dreadful day, he finally felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

#eddie x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things one shot

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 13/?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Part 13? The unlucky part??? I’m evil

Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name ( your best friend’s name).

I don’t know when this will be posted because time is dumb! But I do think I’ll have something prepared for Jason’s birthday<3

Hope you’re all well!

Warnings: Swearing, Eludes to sex, Mentions of injuries, Mentions of underage drug use (Do Not Condone), Mentions of sexual assault, Eludes to trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

The next morning, Jason and Y/N would wake up in the same bed. Y/N would get up and stumble her way into his ensuite, trying not to wake him as he was still injured. It had been 4 days since his injury, and he was hoping that the next day he’d get his stitches removed. She would grab the clothes she wore the day before and walk into the ensuite.

She would fumble with her makeup a bit, realizing it had run slightly from the night before. Before just realizing it would be a lot easier if she took it all off. She wasn’t wearing heavy makeup, but it was just enough to hide what she thought were imperfections.

She wasn’t wearing anything, so she just threw on all of her other clothes and threw her hair up.

When she exited the ensuite, he was still sleeping in the bed, but his clothes were strewn across the room. She paused her thoughts to clean up his clothes and put them in his laundry basket.

She touched her nose to test if it was still warm and painful, which brought all the pain to the forefront, and it was still warm to the touch, she knew it was inflamed from the head-butting incident and looking in the mirror.

She didn’t think it would hurt this much, and she winced at the pain.

Jason would start groaning in his sleep, she assumed it was because they didn’t close the blackout curtains before they had their fun the night before. So she went to go close them when he went and grabbed her thigh, she laughed quietly.

“Good morning, Jason,” she said as she closed the curtains before leaning down to see his face, and what was obvious bedhead.

“Hi,” he whispered before pulling her back into his bed.

She laughed, “Sorry, baby. I had to get up and get dressed.”

“Lame,” he whispered and curled into her.

“Jay, you’re naked,” she said.

“Thank you Sherlock Holmes.”

“Oh shut it, you should get dressed,” she suggested.

“Yeah, I should,” he said as he left the bed, crawling over her and going to his dresser, thank God he didn’t have any IVs and blood bags anymore, so he could walk without having to drag those around anymore.

She didn’t stare at him, because he nose started pounding and she whimpered.

“You alright, Y/N?” Jason asked her.

“Yeah sorry, my nose is killing me.”

“Well that’s what happens when you head-butt someone.”

She laughed, “I’m sorry okay, I panicked.”

“That part’s obvious.”

“You could pretend to care that I’m hurt, Jay,” she joked.

He laughed as he put on his boxers and his pants, “I could, but I also think you were being reckless, I worry,” he searched for a shirt, “I worry that us being together is putting you in danger,” he said as he found a shirt.

“Well, I like the danger, if there is any.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a danger,” he put on his shirt and fumbled with his hair, “It’s obviously because you’re attached to Bruce, you heard that man ‘I wonder what Bruce will give me for you’ he knew we had money. You need your car back.”

“I can’t afford the fees,” she sighed.

“Bruce can pay them, you know.”

“God no, I would feel so bad, I’ll just take the subway or something.”

He sighed and went back to her, cupping her face, “Please let my dad pay the fees, it’s dangerous out there,” he leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, “I can’t stand that you got hurt linked to your shenanigans with me,” he kissed her.

“I guess it’s me being protective,” he said, “But I think it’s a reasonable thing to be concerned about, Y/N.”

“I’ll figure it out, I swear.”

“You figuring this out involved you head-butting your attacker, I get it was quick thinking, but my god woman, that was dangerous,” he said.

“You literally got stabbed protecting your best friend,” she argued.

“Okay, good point, but I’m prettier than you so I win,” he joked.

“What kind of fucking logic is that you bastard!” she joked.

“The kind of star-crossed lovers or something, I don’t know, I don’t write, you do.”

“I’ll sell our story to Warner Brothers, we’ll make millions off of us.”

“Two lovers, harassed by the press in the media, spend most of their time hiding and protecting themselves from the disgusting eyes of the media and the man who attacked one of them,” he said in a news broadcaster voice, “Amazing, isn’t it?” he joked.

“The kind of story Artemis said Dick would eat up.”

“Oh, he would. Man’s a sucker for a romantic story.”

“Well, maybe he can sell his and Barbara’s romantic story to the Warner Brothers, he’d probably make millions too, if it’s worth anything.”

“Well, they’ve known each other for years, and when they finally started dating, myself, Steph, Cass, Tim and Damien all celebrated to an extent, we all saw it coming from all those years of them knowing each other,” he paused, “They actually fought a lot when they were younger before they dated, it would be normal to hear Dick and Barbs going at it about how they hated each other.”

“That’s such a meet-cute stone-cold-woman meets goofy guy story that I hate it.”

He laughed, “They’re so gooey, it’s so cute that I want to vomit.”

“That’s valid. We should be cuter so that they want to vomit.”

“I like your thinking, Y/N.”

“You always do, I have good ideas, Jason.”

“Only sometimes.”

She laughed. It was true, someone with always good ideas wouldn’t have head-butted her attacker, but it’s not like she carried knives or guns around to defend herself. She was considering getting a conceal-carry permit, just because she truly was shaken up by the event.

But a little trauma makes for good stories, and her story with Jason was just starting.

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

Dick decided he’d drive her to her class that day, she didn’t think it mattered that much, her attack, but she realized that a lot of them didn’t want to see her hurt, even if they barely knew her.

She figured it was a kindness that they all possessed. She heard stories of the Waynes paying off waitress’/waiters’ student debts. She heard stories of the Waynes being polite to their ‘lower’ counterparts of the world. She knew they wer kind people, so she wasn’t shocked when Dick insisted he drive her to her class.

“So, Y/N, what are your intentions with my brother?” Dick joked.

“Oh no, not this, I haven’t prepared my answerers for this exam,” she retorted.

“No, its a pop quiz, you have no chance to prepare.”

“Fuck. Can I drop out of this class?”

“How would you even accomplish that?”

“Tuck and roll out of the car, probably,” she joked.

“You ever done that before?”

“Nope, you?”

“Did it on a dare, Jase dared me.”

“And he calls me reckless,” she laughed.

“Well, we were still in high school at the time, we’re supposed to be reckless,” Dick said.

“You ever met a college kid? We’re supposed to be reckless too.”

“He’ll get over it in time, Y/N. I promise. He just needs time to accept that you’re going to be as reckless and opinionated as he is, no one really refuses each other like you two do, and I’m sure you don’t mean it to be like that.”

“I think you’re reading too far into it, Dick, we make compromises.”

“Then why is your car still an issue? Bruce can cover the cost no questions asked.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Maybe it’s something to think about.”

“Are you always this brotherly? I need to know what I’m getting into here.”

He laughed, “You really do keep out of the press, don’t you?”

She took that as a yes, he is that brotherly and would continue to be. She didn’t mind, she never had a brother growing up so this would take some time to get used to, but she did not mind at all. She just figured she’d have to keep her partying ways even further down in the depths of her secrets.

They didn’t need to know what she did and what was done to her, she even ignored those problems herself. If they came out, then so be it, but if she could keep them hidden, she would.

“What were you like back in high school?” Dick asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Probably not the type of person that your dad would want Jason to be with,” she admitted.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Honestly? I don’t want to talk about it. You’d probably have to get me hammered to talk to you about it.”

“Well, maybe one day you’ll go to a gala. And after you’re wasted, I’ll ask you about it.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I’m sure you will, Dick. I’m sure you will.”

“Well, we’re here,” he said, “You have my number right?”

“I do, I do.”

“Good, call me if you need me to come get you and take you home, or to the Manor. Either or, no questions asked,” he laughed, “I expect the same when you have your car back, to be fair.”

“Consider it a deal, thanks Dick.”

“Anytime, really.”

She closed the door and waved him off, but when he pulled out of the lot, the press was at Y/N’s ass. She ran though, she ran far to get out of there.

Class was the usual. She wrote her normal psychology notes, sitting in her class, concentrating as she scribbled down the notes that she struggled to read.

When she was done and getting read to call Dick to come get her, her old friends from Metropolis showed up at her school.

“Hey! Y/N!” Christopher yelled when he saw her leave her class.

“Oh my god?” she said before running to hug him, “What the fuck are you doing here, dude?” she questioned, before looking at the rest of the car and seeing Justine, Kaitlin and Thomas, “What the fuck are all of you doing here?”

“C’mon party girl, we’re taking you to your pale, you get dressed, and we’re going out,” Justine urged Y/N to join them, “Just like old times, man.”

“Yeah! We haven’t partied in weeks since you got your scholarship! We know you’re busy and trying to discipline yourself, but we can go party every once in a while, girl!” Kaitlin added.

“You know we miss you too,” Thomas finished.

“Alright, I need no more convincing, let’s get going,” she said as she hopped into the car and they went going to her house. She thought on the drive there, What if I fall back into old habits, and I’m doing so well, what if I fall off?

She couldn’t have more thoughts because before she knew it, she was in her house sending Jason a quick text,

Hey baby, I can’t come over tonight. Old friends came by.

Oh. I hope you have fun, I’ll probably be with my brothers. how did you even get home?

They drove me. I promise I’ll be over tomorrow and you’ll have me all day and night long, though.

That. That is exciting.

It should be.

She got dressed.

And she sent Jason a photo of what she was wearing (like the picture above) just to get him going. Before running out of her place and hopping back into the car.

“You always dress to impress, don’t you?” Thomas asked.

“I dress like I know what I’m doing,” Y/N joked.

“Never change, Y/N, never change,” Justine joked back.

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

She walked into the club she frequented back when she was in high school, but the Gotham one. She had a fake ID, and she used it well and was in the club before the rest of her group knew it.

Justine would grab her hand and take her to the bar, Fuck, she thought, Here we go. And they ordered drinks.

The rest of the night was a blur of people, drinks and her friends.

She knew she overdid it from the minute she woke up, in her bed, feeling around for her phone in her messed up and torn up sheets. Het body was covered in bruises, she noticed between harsh blinks from the pouding headache she was nursing. She remembered why she didn’t party as hard anymore. She didn’t even know how she got home that night. She found her phone and turned it on, 8:00am it read. She checked her messages, adn there was Jason, at 7:00am he said;

Are you awake yet?

To which, she replied: I am, why?

How drunk were you last night?

I think blackout. I don’t remember much.

I can tell.

Tell me I didn’t do anything stupid.

You did something stupid.

What did I do?

You called me at 3am and told me you loved me, followed by saying you threw up at one of your friends. I don’t even know how you got home.

Well that’s not that bad.

You told me about your past.

Oh.

When were you going to tell me you’re a recovering alcoholic?

I don’t know.

Come here. Come over. We need to discuss this.

Alright, alright. I’ll be there soon.

Dick will come get you in an hour, actually. Don’t leave the house without him.

I won’t.

She got up and looked at the mirror at herself. She was covered in bruises, her makeup was smudged, her eyes looked sunken in and her hair was a mess. She sighed, knowing she fucked up, and wiped off her makeup and got in the shower. She quickly showered and put on a turtleneck and a pair of jeans.

It was to hide the bruises from Jason. She assumed someone had physically assaulted her, possibly sexually. She only had that thought once before she pushed it very far down and swallowed it. She went to go make coffee, but her head was racing at the ideas of last night and what she said.

She was fucked up and she did fuck up. She knew she shouldn’t have drank. but she did. And she knew Jason was either really pissed or really sympathetic. She was scared at how much she might have discussed when Dick honked his horn and she left the house.

In the car, Dick tried to break the silence, “You should have told someone, anyone. We’re all really good at listening, Y/N.”

She wiped away a few tears that were pooling.

“You didn’t need to hide from us, Y/N.”

“I do.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t. Jason’s probably more mad that you didn’t tell him over you actually being a recovering alcoholic. You called him last night and let it all spill out. Everyone knows, you don't need to hide anymore.”

“Of course I did,” she said, swallowing more tears and her voice breaking.

She wanted her past as an alcoholic to die when she moved out of the city, because she didn’t want everyone to know how broken she was, fighting with addiction. A lot of her anxieties and treatments of people make sense with her past addictions, but that doesn’t mean she liked them.

She hated that girl, the wild party child who almost drank herself to death, her body was just recovering fully from her escapades when she went out clubbing. She knew this was going to be an issue, but she didn’t know how to fix it.

He looked over at her and caught eye at one of her bruises that was peaking over her turtleneck. He tried to not stare, but she noticed.

“Don’t ask about it, Dick. I don’t know what happened.”

“I think you two will get through this.”

“I hope we do, but realistically,” she paused.

“Don’t think like that.”

They pulled into the driveway and the minute Dick unlocked her door, she was out of there, speed walking to the door and then to Jason’s room.

She opened the door to find him reading a book, she would have smiled at this, had she not been certain that they were about to fight.

“Jason?”

“Oh. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I just-”

He cut her off and got up from his bed, looking ever-so disappointed in her as he walked to the door of his room. She expected the fight to take place in the hall, so she tried to step back when he grabbed her forearm with one of his hands and yanked her into his room. She assumed maybe, just maybe his room was soundproof so his family wouldn't have to hear the yelling. He closed the door once she was in and stared at her.

She gulped, expecting him to let loose on the argument now about her drinking and her confessing she was a recovering alcoholic, but instead, he pulled her into a hug, which she yelped at.

“Jason?” she said, shocked.

“Shh,” he broke from the hug and cupped her face, “It’s okay, really.”

“But I hid it from you...”

“You know, we’ve only known each other two weeks or something, right? I get you hiding it, I just wish it didn’t come out like that,” he laughed and kissed her quickly, “Besides-” he noticed the bruise on her neck, “What’s that?” he asked, grabbing her hand and clutching it.

“There’s...”

“There’s more?” he asked.

“What, I mean, uh... uh... no?” she stuttered.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Jason...”

“Or tell me the truth.”

“Baby-”

“So there’s more, who hurt you? Did you fall?” he asked, getting a little bit heated, really squeezing her hand.

“I don’t know.”

He cupped her face, “That’s okay,” he leant his forehead against hers, “It’s okay, I promise, I do. I just really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t try to,” she said.

“Seems like trouble likes to follow you,” he said.

“Well, you found your way to me so I’d have to agree,” she joked.

“Ha ha. How’s your nose?” he said as he broke contact with her to go sit on his bed, she followed.

“It still hurts, but I can’t tell if that’s from last night or from my shenanigans with the attacker.”

“It could honestly be a combination of both, depending on what happened to you, have you asked your friends for the full story yet?”

“No. I’ve been scared to.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I’m going to. Right now.”

“I support your decision on that,” he said as he turned on the TV in his room, but then Y/N paused.

“Y/N?”

“Reports are in of a group of friends, who all got arrested last night, for bodily harm of a man who attempted to rape their friend, Police say., the suspects in the attack are Christopher Green, Justine Wong, Kaitlin Benoit and Thomas Harthrew. More to be coming soon.”

“Thank god that girl had those friends.”

She turned to Jason, “So,” she paused, “I’m glad you think that, because, those are my friends.”

42 notes · View notes

bbysamu · 4 years

Text

It Ain’t Me - Part IV

Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you ; AKAASHI Keiji x you

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,249

Warning: mentions of alcohol and drinking

Now Playing: It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez

✎ Preview: Kuroo continues to destroy his own life as he immerses himself in alcohol and women, desperately using them to drown you out. But he should’ve known about the consequences of his action.

Ch. I

Ch. II

Ch. III

Ch. IV

Ch. V

Epilogue

a/n: no excessive drinking please, don’t hinder your brain and health.

Falling in love wasn’t like those Nicholas Sparks movies. Falling in love for Akaashi Keiji was natural, like breathing, something you don’t even notice unless you really pay attention. Akaashi Keiji has been in love with you since 14, and he didn’t even notice until the day you called him, squealing, “guess who just asked me out?”

Akaashi Keiji watched as you fall deeper in love with Kuroo Tetsurou. Of course he was upset, but watching his best friend so happily in love made him smile. After all, isn’t love wanting the love of your life to be happy?

Yet, even after all these years, the little sharp pain in his heart never dulled once as you send him cute pictures of you and Kuroo out on dates, listening to you ramble about your fights, his romantic gestures etc...

So when you called him, voice filled with so much pain, “he cheated on me”, Akaashi Keiji ran like never before.

He opened the door with ease, only to see you so small, face full of angry tears that was released into a sob when he wraps you around his arms.

Keiji has never felt so much urge to punch someone in the face when Kuroo knelt in front of you begging for forgiveness. And though he’d never admit it, shutting the door in Kuroo’s face felt so good.

The first few months of healing was a blur to you. All you could clearly remember were two things, the overwhelming pain whenever you think of Kuroo and how sweet and thoughtful Akaashi was.

Slowly, bit by bit, words after words, hugs of immeasurable warmth, Akaashi pieced together your heart, stitching it back together with his love.

Akaashi watched you fall in love with him the same way he did with you, like breathing. So he didn’t say anything, he wanted it to be something you realized on your own.

It took you six months to realize you were in love with Akaashi Keiji.

Six months have passed since the Kuroo incident, it was another overtime, the boss finally letting you go. You walked out the company door, shivering slightly at the cold breeze.

“Y/n!” A familiar figure calls out. You were surprised to see Akaashi waiting for you with hot chocolates in hand.

“what are you doing here?” You asked him, heart warmed as he hands you the hot drink.

“Since you texted you’d be working late again today, I wanted to drop these off for you as a little boost of energy.”

“well great timing, the boss finally let me go. Wanna grab some late din din?”

Akaashi looks down at you, smiling sweetly, “sure, take out at yours?”

“and we can watch that new BNHA movie?” you asked, eyes gleaming with hope.

“sure.” He laughs, watching you do your little happy dance.

Back at home, Akaashi watches as you happily slurp your noodle, hitting his arms whenever an exciting part comes on. When the movie finally finishes, you leaned back against the sofa, watching Akaashi clean up the bowls and moving to the kitchen.

You watched as the black-haired setter move around in your kitchen, cleaning up the takeout boxes and realized how he fits so perfectly in your home, in your life...in your heart.

You walked over to him, heart thumping in your ears. He jumped slightly as your wrapped your arms around his waist, your face on his back.

“Y/n? what are you doing?”

You said muffled something that he couldn’t quite catch.

“what? you’re gonna have to speak louder.” He tries to turn around, but you grabbed onto the hem of his tshirt, stopping him.

“Don’t turn around, I don’t think I can say it if you’re looking at me.”

Akaashi’s heart was pounding as he anticipated your next words.

“I...I think I like you Keiji.”

He whirls around, “you think?”

You look down embarrassed, “I mean, I like you Keiji.”

He lifts you up by the chin, so he could look into your eyes.

“you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

He leans in and kisses you with so much passion and love, you realized he must have been in love with you after all this time. So you kiss him back, head and heart finally devoid of Kuroo Tetsurou.

A few weeks have passed since his disastrous encounter with you. Kuroo lies in bed and glares up at the ceiling.

“Get up!”

“what do you want Kenma?”

Kenma pushes open the door, “it’s been two whole months and I'm sick of you destroying your life. It’s literally been clubs this entire time and strangers walking in and out of my house every morning. Also your room reeks of alcohol. If you keep this up, I’ll kick you out for reals.”

Kuroo knew Kenma was right, “I just...I just can’t find the motivation to live without Y/n.”

“Shut up already. After your second screw-up, I don’t even feel sympathy for you anymore. Get up. We’re going to lunch, you’re buying.”

Kuroo pushes himself off the bed. His phone buzzes, a unknown number flashes across his screen.

“aren’t you going to pick that up?”

“nah”.

Halfway across town, Akaashi unwraps himself from you.

“Keij, five more minutes!”

“darling, you said that ten minutes ago.”

You smiled, “I'm just tired, can’t we nap for bit longer please?”

Akaashi rolls his eyes at you playfully, “normally I’d say yes, but we actually have a reservation for lunch today. We’re meeting Bokuto and his girlfriend, remember?”

“oh yeah. It’ll be nice to see them again.”

Akaashi pulls you out of bed, kissing you on the forehead before getting ready himself.

Bokuto’s loud “hey hey hey” could be heard miles away. You and Akaashi laughs as Bokuto’s girlfriend reminds him to be quieter.

As the four of you walk into the restaurant, you come face to face with a familiar figure.

Out of all the places, you just had to run into Kuroo here.

Kuroo looks at you in shock, glancing back and forth between you and Akaashi, at his arms wrapped around your waist and the way you instinctively shifted closer to him when you saw Kuroo.

Kenma was the one to break the awkward silence, “Hey Y/n! Good to see you. How’ve you been?”

You smiled at Kenma, grateful for his presence, “Hey Kenma! It’s been a while. I’ve been good. How are you? How’s the company?”

Kuroo uses this chance to take a good look at you. Your hair have grown out longer now, curled beautifully. He notices the way your eyes shine brighter, Akaashi must’ve been treating you right. His eyes meets Akaashi’s, before clearing his throat and turning away.

“Anyhow, we’ve got to get to lunch now. I’ll see you around Kenma.”

You and Akaashi walk towards your table, not even bothering to spare Kuroo a glance.

Kuroo trails behind Kenma out of the restaurant, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hey Kenma, I’m just gonna take this call real quick.”

Pulling out his phone, Kuroo sees the unknown number from this morning.

“Hello?”

“Hey Kuroo. It’s me, Aika. Do you have time right now? I need to tell you something.”

Kuroo searches his brain for an Aika, annoyed that he had given a one-night stand his number. “Sorry but I'm a little busy right now. Can’t you say this over the phone?”

He hears shuffling behind her, “okay um...”

Kuroo catches Kenma’s eyes, a look of panic in them.

“what did you say?”

“I’m pregnant.”

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junicai · 4 years

Text

Relationship with WAYV

➣ KUN ☾ karia

if it wasn’t for dotae potentially coming to kill him, he would steal aria into wayv

he’s the cool dad?

they can’t spend a lot of time together because none of their schedules match up, but aria takes every third or so weekend out to come have dinner in the wayv dorms

she’s surprisingly close to the china line, and its a combination of ten dragging her to his dorm for an entire month and them just kinda adopting her when they realized she was a foreigner as well

yuta can fight them, she’s one of them now

he doesn’t like to baby her a lot, and she really appreciates the break from being the “maknae” so to speak

however does that stop him from giving her the forehead kithes? no

aria sad? forehead kith

aria mad? forehead kith

aria smad? forehead kith + kuddles (kun cuddles)

he has sent her a passive agressive text when he found out that she wasn’t eating enough again and had almost passed out

but he finished it with a heart so its ok

if she isn’t smiling at all times, someone will die

aria feels like she can trust him with a lot; that no matter what she tells him, he’ll never out her or make fun of her

kun actually took a two-week online course to learn how to make traditional japanese dishes when aria mentioned missing her parents

he originally was going to learn how to make irish dishes, but he changed his mind after seeing what they were

“im not giving my kids boiled cabbage and mashed potatoes what kind of post world war-”

wants to give her a chinese name but hasn’t yet because he hasn’t found the one that fits her right and he wants it to be perfect

aria teaches him japanese phrases in exchange for him teaching her a little bit of mandarin

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria saw kun’s back as she entered the practice room, the man standing with three other members in the centre of the floor before the choreographer came in to start their practice. coming up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, peeking her head around from where she was. “hi!” she smiled brightly.

“hi,” ten chuckled, showing her the camera that had just filmed all of that.

➣ TEN ☾ tenaria

Whipped(TM)

so so gone for her its upsetting actually

yangyang and aria share the position of his baby

except aria willingly accepts the title while yangyang would rather fling himself from a rooftop

ten’s instagram is half his cats, half miyazu aria

he posts her dancing practice on his story a lot, with a variety of captions ranging from “thats my baby ♡( ◡‿◡ )” to “yah that’s not right...(눈_눈)”

such an enabler for her bad ideas

aria wants to go shopping at 4am? ten agrees, now they’re sitting by han river eating ice cream

pls he’s gonna get her in so much trouble one day

when they walk together, ten likes to take her hand and put it in his pocket

its under the pretense of not wanting her to get lost

he just wants to hold her hand

yes he has lost her in a shopping mall, and NO it wasn’t his fault

ten always complains that they never have schedules together and he misses his baby

“we have superm-” “I NEVER SEE YOUUUU (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ”

if they’re in the same room ten is either watching her out of the corner of his eye, or is actually wrapped around her like a boa constrictor

hugs n kithes all around

only he is allowed make fun of her mistakes in dancing

anyone else gets deaded. he will fight for her honor how dare you insult his baby

sm give these ttwo a dancing duo video pls

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

the first and only time aria and ten had a duet was during their last concert on superm’s first world tour. during the second half of ten’s solo performance, aria emerged from the left side of the stage, coming to join him in the centre stage. no one had ever seen aria as serious as she was then, both herself and ten becoming completely different people in the moment. midway through, aria spun with her back to ten and leaped backwards into the air - eyes closed - completely trusting ten to be where she needed him to be to catch her.

➣ WINWIN ☾ winria

a love hate relationship at its finest

they don’t actually hate each other it’s just really funny to pretend that they do (especially because yuta complains that 2 of his favourite people aren’t getting along)

winwin is so savage towards aria but it’s ok she claps back twice as hard

at first, before czennies had seen enough of their dynamic they thought that they actually did hate each other

but that’s not true they just don’t know how to express, affection, without brutally insulting the other with a loving tone

they are, surprisingly, the most stable pairing in 127 - they have a dynamic and rarely stray from that, which is a good comfort for the fans

despite what they might say to each other, they don’t mean any of it - and winwin has been seen several times raising his eyebrows with a questioning look at aria to make sure she wasn’t taking any of his playful jabs to heart

oh god the flexibility

the entirety of nct is terrified of them

the day sm gives them a circus act is the day that kun and taeyong have a heart attack

quietly supportive of each other - catch aria “playing” with a water bottle and not getting up to get it when it conveniently rolls across the floor and into winwin’s leg

he makes sure to save some new chinese sweets whenever the wayv members get packages from their familes, and sneak it into aria’s room before the managers can catch her breaking her diet

not really physically affectionate with each other, which played into czennies idea that they didn’t like each other but aria cleared it up in a vlive

“winwinnie and I, well. we don’t hug a lot because i know he doesn’t like it as much as i might, so i try to show him i care with other things :)”

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

winwin and aria going in to each other on knowing brothers, to the point where the mc’s had their eyes popping out of their head and waved about to stop the segment before aria could start attacking winwin’s cooking methods-

nothing is off limits when it comes to them

➣ LUCAS ☾ arihei

besties

please they’re so cute together - tol child next to tini child she barely comes up to his chest :(

bear hugs

he just swamps her in his arms, and when he doesn’t feel like being bent over he picks her up

complains that she’s too heavy but then immediately after will throw her around like a softball

someone tell this man to be careful with her she’s not a barbie doll

singular braincell energy

don’t get it wrong, they’re both super smart

so it’s just - being smort together, but then nearly dying because neither of them remembered that you couldn’t eat raw cookie dough when there are eggs in it

she adores how he’s so confident in the things that he does - like convincing the entire nct fandom that he was fluent in english? king behaviour

so aria looks up to him (literally) but also because she wants to have that confidence some day

lucas says they’re not close and then aria pouts and he takes it all back

nczennies made a 14 minute compilation titled “lucas melting like a popsicle in australia for aria”

and literally what the title tells you, this man goes :(( when he sees her

lucas was actually the person to convince her to go ahead with the [redacted] proposal - and reminded her that it was too good an opportunity to pass up just because she felt like she was outgrowing the boys

he’s so proud of her

and she’s so proud of him

they’re so proud of each other and it makes nczennies want to cry because they never are seen together

sm stop separating the platonic soulmates first markhyuck and now arihei smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

during a photoshoot, aria was standing off to the side of the boys, dressed in white suit to contrast the boys’ black ones. the photographer was calling out to her to get her to move closer, but she couldn’t hear him from so far away, and so lucas (who was on the end) just walked over to her, gripped her by the biceps and lifted her vertically and to the left a little bit.

“luc-LUCAS?”

“you had to move :)”

➣ XIAOJUN ☾ arijun

honestly these two aren’t super close, just because their schedules never matched up until the NCT 2020 promotions

even when aria was dragged to the wayv dorms, xiaojun kept his distance from her because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable

even so, when they were filming Make A Wish together, they seemed comfortable enough around each other

there was a mutual agreement to not try fill the silence with awkward small talk, so they sat in silence when left alone together

they’re both shy :( someone needs to get them to talk to each other :(

even so, aria was all supportive smiles and thumbs-up when she saw him getting nervous before their first public stage as the unit

he was a little intimidated of her at first, but also really curious about how she was holding her own against the other members

not only physically, but her vibes are tiny let the man be concerned ok

his first impression of aria was just: small quiet? she was sitting apart from the other boys in the practice room, and he almost wanted to go over and ask her if she was ok; before she was approached by donghyuck and her face broke into a bright smile

aria’s first impression of xiaojun was: eyebrows he was really handsome? at first, she thought he was in the wrong room, seeing as the SM modeling auditions were happening in the next room down

any arijun shippers are starved of content im so sorry guys

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

currently still up for debate between the fandom :(

➣ HENDERY ☾ aridery

ah these two

you might as well sign a waiver if you decide to do anything with them, because they can and will get you killed

kun can testify

ten’s the enabler but hendery is the do-er

super giggly around each other, for no reason at all

hendery could pick up and throw a basketball and suddenly aria’s on the floor in literal stitches

have a secret code

no seriously

they don’t text in words, they just send various reaction memes and a colourful variety of emojis to convey emotions and scenarios

it’s become quite a beautiful language actually

got some nice proverbs in there

they’re like, cousins but the ones you only see at family reunions but get so hype to see them

that energy

asides from the chaotic, murderous vibes they possess as a duo

hendery knows what it’s like to miss home, to miss your parents, etc etc

and so he tries to make aria feel as home as possible - especially with wayv, because they’re all foreigners who know how she feels

whenever he gets packages from his parents who have sent things over, he always makes sure to keep some of the small treats/sweets back for aria

1. because he knows she’ll appreciate the thought and she gives good hugs

2. because he knows she’s on a diet constantly and never allowed eat these things when she’s in the dorms with managers around

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

filming the Resonance “Wish” event, aria was put in a skimpy minimalistic mock-suit to differentiate from the others’ clothes. unfortunately, that left aria with a little too much shoulder and chest on display than she would like, and she was noticeably uncomfortable with her clothes, constantly pulling it up and even going so far as to just hold it with her hands.

hendery saw this, and knew he was finished filming his segment for the time being, so he pulled off his own jacket and tossed it over to aria, who caught it with a grateful smile. “thank you,” she mouthed to him, tugging the dark blue material over her shoulders.

➣ YANGYANG ☾ ariyang

aria. has 9 days of age on this boy and will never let him forget it

“respect your elders you brat” “9. DAYS.”

european pals

they feel so cultured when they get asked about europe, and then are kindly reminded by hendery that A. Germany started 2 world wars, and B. Ireland was just a British colony until 100 years ago.

they both hit him for that

aria teaching him curse words in irish and yangyang teaching her curse words in german? more likely than you’d think

they met before yangyang’s debut was announced, in a practice room that had let them accidentally overlap their practice times

instead of working it out between them, they actually just started to alternate their songs - and the other gave them some good, constructive criticism

most of the time

when they found out they were going to be in 90s Love together, they were so happy

it was going to be their first official schedule together

all the behind-the-scenes videos are just aria and yangyang being children and then ten coming over and cooing at them

they love ten, but they will trash talk the man behind his back

yangyang confessed to her that he sometimes feels nervous when speaking korean, like he’s going to make a big mistake

so she tries her best to teach and correct him where she can, and make him as comfortable as possible

if you look at any of the 90s Love promotions - aria is always beside yangyang

he bit her ear once

she doesn’t know why and he won’t tell her

but now when she makes fun of him, he threatens to do it again

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria skating onto the rink during filming, and yangyang following her because she promised to teach him how to skate backwards.

“ok just, think like you’re leading with your heels. press your knees in, and push outwards, with you-no no that’s forwards. go backwards yangyang.”

“no no no thats a WALL YANGYANG STOP-”

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #tig trager x oc #jax teller #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

inferno matt murdock x reader

+++++++++

prompt: "I'm not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor." ; "You're bleeding all over my carpet." ; "Tell me you need me."

idk how i did it but this is exactly 1000 words

song: my friend of misery by metallica

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

"ya know im starting to think you like getting beat up."

he laughed as i sterilized the needle, looking over the cut in his shoulder again.

"that is not the first time anyone has said that to me."

i snorted.

"why does that not surprise me?"

he sent me a small smile.

"if it makes you feel any better, when i go out at night the goal is to not get beat up."

i sighed as i got to work on his arm.

"but like everything else you do, it is one of the drawbacks of the job."

he smiled wider, nodding in agreement.

"not exactly a perk."

i bit the inside of my cheek as i finished stitching him up and worked to clean it off with rubbing alcohol.

"i would say i feel for you but you keep going out and keep coming to me afterwards so there's not much i can do outside of literally fixing you."

"what? no 'gee matt, maybe you should get a better hobby' or 'that looks like it hurts, let me make it better'?"

i sent him a look.

"I'm not going to be sympathetic until you go to an actual doctor."

he shrugged before putting a clean shirt back on.

"i have an actual doctor."

i sat back as i cleaned up my supplies.

"i dont mean check ups and the guy you see when you have a cold matt. i mean, like, when youre bleeding all over my carpet and i cant get you patched up fast enough. when you need more help than i can dish out."

"if its any consolation i appreciate the help more than you know."

i made a face as i dropped my gloves into his kitchen trash can.

"oh i know, youve mentioned it before. but sometimes it doesnt feel like it. i just wish you could see how much you really need real help; whether that be from a side kick or more than just me."

i followed him to the couch and watched with my arms over my chest as he struggled to fall into the brown leather.

"i cant just give myself up like that y/n."

i sighed before sitting beside him in defeat.

"i know you cant, but i just- i dont even know anymore."

he turned his head like he was listening more intently.

"youre not quitting on me are you?"

he asked and i laughed a little bit.

"could i ever?"

there was a short pause.

"no, im not quitting on you. i just dont know what i need out of this anymore. at first i thought it was a companion. someone to take care of because i had just lost everyone else. but the more im here, the more im realizing just how dangerous that is. because just like them you could be gone sooner than i want and itll be my fault."

he was quick to sit up, hissing in pain as he touched my arm.

"it would never be your fault. i want you to know that right now."

i sent im a look.

"matt if you die on my watch then thats on me. of course it would be my fault. and itll be just like everyone else whos trusted me with their lives. i wont be able to follow through with my end of the bargain."

he shook his head quickly, wiping away the few tears that had slipped down my cheeks.

"hey, dont do that to yourself. i did this. if i reach my limit it would have nothing to do with you."

"what if i cant save you?"

he swallowed hard and i tried to study his face.

"then i wasn't worth saving."

"matt."

he titled his head up quickly.

"no, i mean it. if i come to you and you cant save me then i truly believe it was my time. god works in mysterious ways, and if i die then take it as a sign that my job is done. that He decided my job is done."

i let another tear slip, his hand holding my jaw lightly as i looked over him through blurry vision.

"i cant lose you too. you literally fell into my lap but at this point you're the only one ive got left. matt. please."

he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine.

"then tell me you need me."

i pulled away a little surprised.

"what?"

his eyes shifted back and forth like he was bargaining with himself.

"thus far i havent had a reason to quit. the city needs me, but if you need me more... maybe its time to take a break."

i let out a staggered breath that was almost a sob and he pulled me into a tight hug.

"i need you so much matty."

i cried, feeling him pet my hair down, his other hand pressed hard against my back.

"im such a mess."

i said through a sob/laugh and he pulled away, a small smile on his face.

"youre my mess. or uh, you are if you want to be."

he said a little shy and i smiled, nodding quickly.

"you mean that?"

he nodded once.

"ive spent my whole life pushing people away. maybe i need to learn how to let people back in."

"maybe we both do."

i took his hands in mine and rubbed my thumbs gently over his knuckles.

"we'll save each other."

he pressed his forehead to mine again.

"if youre the last person i ever save then all of the pain ive endure until now will have been worth it."

i couldnt help the smile that cracked across my face at that and before i knew what was happening his lips were on mine. it was gentle, salty because of the tears, and he tasted like iron from the blood still between his teeth. but god did this feel like the solidarity i had been waiting for. when he pulled away he smiled back at me like he had the same thought.

"my personal savior."

i joked and i could see the blush creeping to his bruised face.

"im yours just as much as you are mine."

#wattpad #x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #imagines #one shots #marvel #the defenders #339

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ao3theskyisblue · 4 years

Text

How to Woo a Texan

For @bellakitse who prompted this nearly a year ago and I had the audacity to put it off for this long 😅 Thank you for the title prompt, I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

He was suddenly brought back to the time when he was 5 years old, gazing at the white lilies in that antique vase every morning. How he hadn’t understood why his mother carried an aura so bright and yet so soft at the same time every time she looked at them.

Oh. There you are. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

***

Or, snapshots through time of their relationship with a splash of feelings

Read on AO3

Ever since he could remember, there was always a fresh vase of white lilies that sat comfortably on the side of the kitchen counter. A 5-year-old Carlos, who was finally old enough to climb down the stairs himself (though his parents seemed to disagree) had always tried to wake up early to try and catch whoever it was that was responsible for them. They always magically appeared like clockwork every Monday morning at 7am.

Neatly trimmed, placed, and lasted a week before a brand-new batch would appear the next Monday.

He hadn’t wanted to think too much about them, but there were times that he caught his mother looking at the flowers with a soft look in her eyes. Sometimes she would brush her fingers along the petals, and other times she would lean down to delicately smell them, an ever-present smile gracing her lips.

He asked her about it once, the words coming out faster than his brain could tell him to stop.

“Mama, where those come from?” He asks one morning, lips puckered in a light pout when he realized he didn’t catch whoever it was that put them there again. His mother turned around from where she was washing some grapes to look in his direction, only to widen her eyes in horror.

“Carlitos! What have I told you about climbing onto places taller than you?” His mother scolded, rushing over to stop him from climbing onto the kitchen counter so he could reach the vase easier. She wrapped her arms gently around his waist, and he didn’t fight it when she sat him on a dining room chair.

“But I wanted to see flowers!” Carlos pointed towards the vase, and his mother turned her head to where he was looking, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She reached over to take out one of the flowers slowly, before displaying it in front of him.

“You mean the white lilies?” His mother asked, nodding at him when he looked at her questioningly. He took the flowers gently in his hands, running his fingers along the petals. They felt like any other flower he’s touched in the schoolyard, and they didn’t have a particularly distinct scent. At least, not that he could tell.

So, what was so special about these flowers?

He was about to ask, but his mother beat him to it. “Your dad is a little bit of a romantic. He wakes up early to get these from the farmer’s market every Monday morning.” And there it is again. That smile he always sees on his mother whenever his dad is mentioned, a smile that made her look so bright and happy.

There was something he didn’t understand though.

“What’s a ro…romand-romantic? Is it like…like Roman empire?” Carlos frowned, not quite remembering that book his teacher had been reading a few weeks ago but he was sure he heard ‘Roman’ somewhere. His mother shook her head, laughing fondly. He watched her get up from her kneeling position to sit on the dining chair beside him, her hands resting on his knees.

“You’re probably a little too young to understand this fully,” Carlos wrinkled his nose at that, because no, he wasn’t too “young,” he could recite the alphabet just fine forwards and backward and knew all his times tables.

His mother gave him a knowing look as if she knew what he was thinking. “Those were the flowers your father gave me when he first told me he loved me, and ever since then, he gets them every week- rain or shine. Just to see a smile on my face when I open the door for him.” His mother’s smile is radiant, and he sees her peeking at the flowers again affectionately, as if just looking at them rings in a new bout of happiness all over again.

“So…” Carlos trails off, a million thoughts circling his mind. “Love means flowers?” His mother chuckles at that, patting his leg fondly.

“It could be, but everyone expresses love differently.” His mother says, before reaching up a hand to place over his heart. He looks at her, at the warmth in her eyes as her next words resonate within his mind.

“Love can be big things, and it can be little things. It can be complicated, and it can be easy. You’ll find your own definition of it one day, and your dad and I will be with you every step of the way.”

***

“I can’t wait to sleep for a decade.” Carlos groaned, toeing off his shoes before stumbling across the entranceway towards the stairs, regretting not building an escalator instead when he had the chance. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, and a bright laugh that never failed to make his heart skip a beat echoed in his ear.

“That’s a coma, sweetheart, not quite something I support. Experience, and all that.” TK mused, squeezing the skin just above his hip in admonishment and making him jolt. He turned a glare to his boyfriend, who was just looking at him innocently.

“You’re not funny,” Carlos grumbled as they slowly made their way up the stairs. Technically, TK was practically dragging him up the steps since he could hardly register where each step began and ended but minor details.

He didn’t need to look up to know that TK’s eyes were shining with amusement, lips curled in a wide smile with its edges softened by affection. “I’m actually very funny, you’re just grumpy when you’re tired. And on the verge of a fever.”

“Am not.” Carlos huffed petulantly, which probably just further proved TK’s point, but the latter wisely chose not to comment on it. They reached the last step and Carlos made a beeline for his bed, flopping down face-first into the soft sheets, legs dangling off the edge, humming appreciatively.

Soft and warm, perfect after a horrendously long shift with a persisting headache.

He didn’t bother moving when hands gently lifted the rest of his body to lie on the bed, the very same hands then reaching underneath him to try and undo his belt.

“You’re going to have to do all the work,” Carlos mumbled; eyes still shut tight. TK snorted, the hand stopping their administrations to swat his thigh lightly.

“I’m trying to make sure you sleep more comfortably. I’ve done my fair share of passing out in uniform and the morning after is never pretty.” TK has successfully removed his belt now, and Carlos half-heartedly lifted his hips to help him tug the pants down. “In fact, there was one particularly memorable moment where I almost stabbed myself in the leg with a belt buckle.”

Carlos was suddenly a little more awake than before, mustering the last bit of his strength to look at TK incredulously, turning over on his back. He ignored his head protesting loudly at the movement.

“I’m going to need a full version of that story when my brain can process more than 5 words a minute.”

TK shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’ll never hear it because you’ll forget this ever happened when you wake up.” He finished yanking his pants off and moved to fold them neatly in half over a hanger and placing it on the door hook. Carlos watched him through hooded eyes, absently going along with the motion of changing his shirt before shifting up to lay his head on the pillow.

“So, sleep-related injuries from passing out in work clothes. Another thing to cross off your bucket list.” Carlos gladly accepted the swat on his leg at that.

“One more word about this and I will go sleep on the couch,” TK warned jokingly, walking to the closet and pushing aside some of their clothing. They haven’t made it official yet, but Carlos already had a key – a permanent one, not a spare one that TK currently donned – prepared hidden in his gun safe waiting to be given, and the closet once only filled with his clothes began filling up with their clothes.

“Wha’re you doin’?” He asked blearily, already feeling himself pouting at the lack of warm boyfriend next to him.

“Looking for-ah, here it is.”

TK pulled out another blanket, the one that his mother had knitted for him when he was younger, and the only thing he could tolerate to be wrapped around whenever he was feeling under the weather.

Well, one of the only things.

He watched as TK gently tucked the blanket around him, seeing the familiar smile that lights up his face whenever he sees the design stitched on – a Gemini sign that stood out proudly among a sea of stars. He remembers mapping out imaginary constellations with his fingertips when he was younger, dreaming of what the stars would feel like underneath his touch – if the galaxy could be grasped within the palms of his hands.

“You mentioned the last time that your body temperature tends to go haywire when you aren’t feeling well, and that this was the only blanket you could tolerate,” TK says softly, and Carlos closes his eyes as the back of a cool hand felt his forehead.

“When did I say that?” Carlos mumbled, the haze of sleep threatening to take over, but he pushed himself to stay awake to hear the answer. TK shuffled some things around in the bed before sitting down, back against the headboard. Carlos didn’t hesitate to roll over towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking his face into his stomach, nuzzling into the soft warmth. He heard a fond chuckle, and smiled when featherlight fingers gently stroked his hair.

“I’ll tell you later. You should get some rest.” TK leaned down to kiss his forehead, the awkward angle not deterring him the slightest as he pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t have to stay.” The words came out a little garbled, and Carlos wasn’t sure if TK had heard him at all. He didn’t want to make TK stay with him when he could literally be doing anything else other than sitting with him while he slept off the fever. His arm seemed to protest at that thought, though it could also be his exhaustion at play when he didn’t pull it away from its spot around TK’s mid-section.

There was a pause, before the blanket was tucked around him even tighter, an arm wrapping around him to pull him in further.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

A million butterflies danced to that, fluttering about inside him as he tried to tamper down his quickening heartbeat. He couldn’t stop the lovesick smile even if he wanted to, tilting his head down to try and hide it.

“Plus, who’s going to wring cold towels and change them for you when you wake up? And make sure you actually eat something? Gotta put my paramedic privileges to work somehow.” Carlos grumbled incoherent words at that. Just because he was a living zombie when he was sick, and his whole body ached so badly he could sometimes hardly make it out of bed, let alone make anything to eat…

He’s been taking care of himself alone for years. And realistically, he knew he would be fine if left to his own devices.

“I’ll wait on you, hand and foot.” The words were light, teasing, reminding him of the heated debate they had the other night. There had been some history program playing in the background, and both of them had made varying sounds of contemplation when that particular phrase was said, sparking their usual bickering over the true meaning behind those seemingly innocent words.

This time, the words also carried a pleasantly heavy weight that settled in Carlos’ chest.

He could feel a stinging building up behind his closed eyes, his feelings always a tad bit of a mess when he was sick. They’ve already said the words, and the fact that they loved each other was ingrained in his mind and heart.

But there were also times like this, when Carlos wanted to grab the nearest jar and store the overwhelming love that was spilling out ardently. He wondered if the jar would feel as warm as he felt, what colour it would be, or if there would be enough space to fit it all.

It was times like these, that he would think,

Oh. There you are.

I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

***

One of the things they’ve agreed upon in the early stages of their relationship, was that TK was not to be allowed anywhere near the kitchen or sharp cooking utensils unless there was appropriate adult supervision and two (working) fire extinguishers within five feet. There were one too many incidences where Carlos could practically feel his heart ripping out of his chest and plopping onto the floor, stripping decades off his life.

So, when he comes home to wondrous spices assaulting his senses, he briefly wonders if he accidentally opened the wrong door.

He had been pulling a double when one of his co-worker’s wife went into labour, and he had messaged TK earlier about not knowing when exactly he’d make it home. He had expected to come home to dim lights and silence, thinking his boyfriend would have already gone to bed but he was taken off guard at the lights shining brightly in the kitchen and the soft background music playing from his speakers.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him alerted TK of his presence, and he was greeted with a smile that had his eyes crinkle happily at the sides.

“Hey, you.” His arms automatically spread apart to wrap around his boyfriend, laughing breathlessly at the way TK practically launched himself at him, trailing kisses up his neck.

“Missed me?” Carlos teased, leaning in for a few quick kisses before tucking his face in the crook of TK’s neck, his favourite spot to just breathe and take his boyfriend in after a long day. There was a heavy sigh in response, before he was met with a pair of eyes he never tired of losing himself in.

“It’s nothing new. I start missing you the second you leave our bed in the morning.” TK admits quietly, biting his lower lip nervously as if he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud. Carlos feels the familiar warmth spreading through him, and reaches up to gently pry his bottom lip free. He leans in to gently kiss the tip of his nose.

“Something smells amazing.” A welcome subject change, one that Carlos knows TK is grateful for, and he watches as his lips spread into a slow smile. Tugging on his hand, TK leads him towards the kitchen counter where various bowls of food were laid out.

“Everyone at the station has been giving me lessons. I thought Nancy was scary during training, it’s nothing compared to how she commands the kitchen. Even Paul was terrified but impressed.” TK was laughing as he continued on with a particularly hilarious incident that he repeatedly insisted was not his fault, but Carlos couldn’t help but be distracted by something scraping against his palm.

He looked down to see bandages covering the majority of TK’s fingers, looking like he had just left a particularly bad boxing match. All of his fingers had some sort of wrapping on it, most of them at the tips reaching just above the second knuckle, and a bulkier one on his right ring finger.

He looked back up to see TK smiling brightly without a care in the world, as if his hands weren’t completely covered with the scars of his labour. Not a single finger had been spared, and Carlos swallowed back the lump growing in his throat at how happy his boyfriend looked.

“Grace even swung by to indulge me in her family’s secret chilli recipe. We kind of went all out today in the kitchen, and everyone had enough to feed their entire family and their neighbours,” TK chuckled at the memory, picking up said bowl of chilli and holding it out to Carlos, a carefree grin painted across his lips. “I told them you were pulling a double, and how I wanted to take care of the cooking for tonight. They were more than happy to give me tips.”

Carlos stared at the bowl in front of him, then at TK’s radiant smile, blinking against the mist clouding up his vision. The whiteness of the bandages contrasted sharply against the brown wooden bowl, and he had an overwhelming urge to kiss each and every single one.

Some days, the love he feels for the man before him is overpowering, sparking life in every single motion and touch. Other days, it’s warm and light, just like the perfect summer breeze flowing by in passing, or the sight of the sunrise ascending over the horizon. The gentle waves splashing by his ankles in a soothing beat.

Today, he’s filled with an ache he can’t quite describe. It’s an ache that he wants engraved into his very bones – an ache that he wants to re-live for a long, long time.

He wondered if it was possible to be numbed by pure happiness, not knowing where the tingling feeling in his body started or ended.

Blinking a couple of times to anchor himself to the present, Carlos looked up to see TK’s worried gaze trained on him, the bowl of chilli sitting back on the kitchen counter.

Had he zoned off for too long?

“Judd, Mateo and Marjan sampled everything to make sure they were edible.” TK bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. His hands were twitching imperceptibly, as if he was itching to wring them together but remembered the bandages at the last second. The almost frantic look in his eyes made Carlos shake out of his stupor, and he reaches forward the cup the back of TK’s neck with one hand, running his thumb soothingly along his nape.

“Baby, this is…” Carlos trails off, the ache in him pulsating the more he looked at the culinary production around them.

He feels truly lucky to have TK in his life, and the rest of his found family with the 126. It startles him sometimes, how he’s been living fine on his own for twenty-six years before TK came into his life, but now that he’s gotten a taste of what it was like to have an extra splash of colour, he wants to continue painting the world with all the newfound hues.

“Extra? Over the top? Too much?” TK rambled, and Carlos shook his head, meeting his gaze straight-on.

“Amazing.”

He knows he sounds a little breathless, but TK seems to lighten at that, his nervous smiling relaxing. He silently obeys as TK gently guides him to one of the dining room chairs, arranging him around a little so that he was sitting, facing the gleamingly empty (for now) tableware.

“What would you like to indulge in first, my liege?” TK says playfully, hands kneading into Carlos’ shoulders to relieve the tension from a long day at work. He could feel himself grinning, reaching up a hand to cover one of TK’s, his thumb brushing against the bandages.

“You have been watching way too many historical dramas.” He mused, humming in approval as nimble fingers dug deeper into muscle, alleviating the residual tautness.

“There are only so many episodes of Grey’s I can handle watching without yelling at the medical inaccuracies. House is alright, but the way he treats patients would give him a lifetime of lawsuits he would never be able to climb out of. That in itself could be a whole series.” TK snorts, leaning back to plate some of the food. Carlos tipped his head back to watch him, already feeling his stomach yearning for everything his boyfriend was currently stashing onto his plate.

“I thought the point of watching those shows as a first responder is to enjoy the imperfections.” Carlos smiles fondly as TK lets out a quiet curse when a small piece of potato rolls off the plate, reaching out to grab a napkin to quickly wipe the spot on the counter.

“Pot meet kettle. You forget I watch Chicago PD with you, babe. I’m pretty sure I could recite the entirety of the Austin PD manual and 10-codes off the top of my head just from your heartfelt soliloquies every time they do anything.” TK shot him an unimpressed look, though the wide grin gave away his amusement.

He could feel himself pouting, not liking how true that was. “Yeah? Then what’s a 10-39 then?” Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing he asked the wrong question when a predatory grin split across his boyfriend’s face.

“Something we both have abused in our professional duties,” TK smirked, walking over to place his plate in front of him before settling down at the seat across from him with his own plate, unconsciously linking their ankles together underneath the table.

“Uh, no. I haven’t. I think I would have noticed.” Carlos furrowed his eyebrows, growing more confused at TK’s quiet laughter.

“When I complained about traffic in Austin? And you very sweetly asked for a second round and offered to drive me to work with the light bars and sirens? Ring a bell?” TK wiggled his eyebrows, and Carlos makes a sound of protest.

“That doesn’t count!”

“You still offered. Which definitely counts.” TK chooses that moment to pick up a piece of lettuce to stuff in his mouth, effectively ending the conversation. Carlos rolls his eyes.

“That’s just cutting corners.” He huffs, stabbing into one of the potatoes purposefully, ignoring TK’s foot knocking against him. Conversation lulls for a while, and the more Carlos digs into the hearty meal before him, the more his skin tingles, kindled with warmth.

He reaches forward to squeeze TK’s hand, who in turn looks up at him curiously.

“Thank you. For all of this. It’s… I really appreciate it.” Carlos stutters, the overwhelming wave of emotion sweeping over him again as TK simply gives him that smile. The one smile that always seemed to be reserved for him – a smile he felt privileged to witness, and the smile he wanted to see every day for the rest of their lives.

“I can’t take all the credit,” TK’s smile is fond, no doubt remembering all the antics the entirety of the 126 were subject to earlier that day. “It was a team effort – I’m just glad it turned out alright with minor mishaps.” There was a sheepish look on his face, and Carlos notices how he’s picking at the heavier bandage on his right ring finger. He reaches across the table to take the hand gently in his, lifting it up to tenderly press his lips against it while their gazes were still locked on each other. There was a hint of pink that coloured TK’s cheeks at the gesture, making him smile against the hand still pressed to his lips.

“Minor mishaps, huh?” He remarks absently, but doesn’t push any further. TK curls his hand tighter to squeeze his before pulling back slowly.

“I added some more things to our Netflix queue. Want to call it a night and continue to preach about inaccuracies in medical and police dramas with me?” TK tilts his head invitingly, his eyes shining with mirth, and Carlos just wants everything with him.

“I’ll get the popcorn.”

***

Leave work at the door.

That’s what his father had always done when he was growing up. All talk of casework, of work stress, were almost always shed like a layer of skin when he came home, a wide smile present on his lips as he lifted him up into a hug and gave his unruly curls a fond ruffle.

Which was why he was currently still at the station at 10:34pm, finishing up the unexpected paperwork that couldn’t wait when they had been called in to a tip just before his shift ended.

Sighing in both exhaustion and frustration, Carlos glared at the offending words in front of him, his pen tapping restlessly against the table as he chewed on his lower lip.

He had promised his little boy that he would make it home tonight to finally watch the new Disney movie together as a family, maybe even build a pillow fort. Now, that promise felt like a scar etched upon his heart bleeding through his every thought as he tried to focus on the papers in front of him.

Their schedules would start being asynchronous again tomorrow, and although it made it easier so that one of them could always be with their son when the other was on a shift, Carlos missed his husband. He missed coming home to more than just a passing kiss as the other left for their shift, he missed going to bed with a warm body to wrap around him, he missed seeing that smile he’s loved more and more every single day for the past seven years for longer than five seconds.

They tried to have at least one evening a week to just be husbands, to spend time with their son together as a unit, but the case he had been working on for months finally had a breakthrough and they hadn’t gotten proper family time for close to a month.

It was times like these that he didn’t get the usual satisfaction of seeing the nameplate Detective Carlos Strand-Reyes on his desk.

“That’s a very impressive scowl you have going on there, detective.”

Carlos almost falls out of his spinning chair at the amused voice speaking lowly in his ear and spun around abruptly to see TK grinning at him, their three-year-old son Micah in his arms giggling happily.

“Papa!” Micah’s ecstatic voice echoes through the almost-empty precinct, and Carlos immediately catches him in his arms when his son practically launches himself into them.

“Micah! TK, what –” Carlos was a little lost for words, but tampers down the confusion when Micah squishes his cheeks between his tiny hands, grinning broadly. He was sure if his partner hadn’t left to grab them another coffee, she would be taking pictures to last her a lifetime.

“Have gift!” Micah declares proudly, his legs shuffling excitedly as he sat down more comfortably in his lap, and Carlos tips his head up for a quick kiss with his husband before looking at TK questioningly.

“Our son didn’t like how you would be spending movie night alone doing work,” Carlos couldn’t help a laugh at TK’s terrible impression of their son. “So, we decided that since you couldn’t come to us, we would bring family to you.” TK’s expression softened at the end, and Carlos could see how his eyes were taking him in fully, his own eyes doing the same.

He notices his partner arriving back to the precinct then, pausing in the doorway of their shared office. Her eyes lit up with understanding, sending him a quick wink before mouthing out a ‘more for me,’ and gestured to the two coffee cups in her hands. She lifted one of the cups as if in cheers, and quietly slinked away to take a break elsewhere.

Carlos mentally noted to send her a gift basket sometime.

“But you were looking forward to watching the movie.” Carlos looks at his son, and Micah frowned up at him, looking at him like he had suddenly grown two heads.

“Moo’ night is moo’ night ‘cause we all there. Papa, daddy, me. Two…two…” Micah furrowed his eyebrows as he tries to remember the word and TK gently cuts in.

“Together, sweetheart.”

“Together!” Micah repeats louder, and Carlos kind of wants to cry.

TK lifts up a plastic bag between them, and he knows exactly what’s in there when Micah’s eyes light up mischievously.

“Really, Strand?” Carlos deadpans, a smile twitching on his lips at TK’s indignant pout. “A sugar rush near midnight?”

“It’s Strand-Reyes. I didn’t marry you in the pouring rain with a broken foot just for you to neglect the second half of my name. And some occasions require processed sugar no matter what time it is.” TK says softly, and Carlos is momentarily taken back to that memorable day five years ago, where everything that could have gone wrong actually did go wrong, as if testing their brush with fate.

But in the end, love won. Which meant come hell or high water, they would be standing on that altar, no matter how many hours they had to stay at the hospital afterward in lieu of their planned honeymoon.

When he looks up into TK’s eyes, he could tell his husband had been thinking the same thing, and they shared a private smile.

“It’s chocolate.” TK grins, wiggling the bag enticingly as if his favourite flavour would make him cave, when he in fact had already caved a long, long, time ago.

“What a coincidence. I have French vanilla.” Carlos smiles as TK looks at him knowingly. He had let it slip once that he always kept a batch of French vanilla ice cream, TK’s favourite, in his private minifridge in the office ever since that night a couple of weeks into his new detective role when TK had come into the precinct soaked to the bone and on the verge of tears.

The news was never kind, and his fiancé had to find out through the grapevine that there had been a nasty altercation with the case he had been assigned to and immediately ran out of their house to search for him when he didn’t answer his cell phone. It was somehow the only thing they had at the precinct that day, and TK had stayed beside him for the rest of his shift, occasionally taking bites of the ice cream and cuddling close.

Now, the particular flavour of ice cream served more as both of their comfort food whenever they wanted to feel each other’s presence during a long shift, and sometimes just seeing the familiar packaging immerses him in comfort.

“Papa get break?” Micah’s question pulls him out of his thoughts, and he kisses the top of their son’s curls, smiling affectionately.

“It’s a good thing I have spoons, then.” Carlos pulls out the drawer meant for miscellaneous things, and takes out three plastic spoons from their packaging. He also reaches into the fridge to take out the container of ice cream, with TK doing the same with the two chocolate flavoured ones in the plastic bag. His husband passes one container to each of them, graciously accepting the one in Carlos’ hands extended to him before hopping on to sit on his desk.

“Papa happy?” Micah asked between spoonfuls, and Carlos hugs him tighter against him, leaning his cheek against the back of his head. He looks up at TK who’s watching them fondly, and he has a sudden urge to hug them tightly and never let go. He leaves that for when they all finish their midnight treats, instead reaching out to squeeze TK’s leg and kiss his son’s cheek, feeling lighter than air.

“I’m always happy when I’m with the two of you.”

***

Years of laughter, hours of tears. Days of contemplation, millions of joyous occasions.

And you were in every single one of them.

“We are getting too old for this.”

TK makes a sound of disbelief, turning to shoot him a glare that’s just as piercing as they had been in their younger days, his green eyes sparkling with life.

“Says you, Mr. I’m-seventy-four-but-can-still-lift-double-your-weight. Age shaming will not be a thing that gets between us.” TK scowls, and Carlos laughs at the way the wrinkles that came with age and years of laughter and joy deepened. His husband’s hair was now almost completely grey, matching his own, and yet…

Tyler Kennedy Strand-Reyes was just as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on him.

“My hips are already protesting, and you haven’t even asked me to stand yet.” Carlos mused, laughing as TK extended his hand to him then, looking down at him in exasperation. The dim light from the fireplace lit up his husband’s features in flashes of brief memoirs, with each passing of the flame’s light echoing a different time in their life.

“And when have you ever said ‘no’ to me?” TK raises an eyebrow, his fingers wiggling in front of him, and Carlos touches the palms of their hands together, admiring how well they fit together, even after all these years.

“Plenty of times,” Carlos responds, even as he gets up all the same. Like two pieces of matching puzzles, they fit together effortlessly. The lulling chords to a song whose name was just at the tip of his tongue was playing softly in the background.

“And your hips move just fine,” TK murmurs in his ear teasingly, and Carlos could feel the wide smile against his neck as he laughs.

They sway together, both of them lost in their own worlds. Carlos closes his eyes as he latches on to this moment just like all of their many others through the time they’ve spent together.

“Feeling wooed yet, babe?” Carlos couldn’t hold back a shiver at the warm current of air brushing past his ear, squeezing TK’s hip at the knowing smile pressed against his shoulder. It never ceases to amaze him how far they’ve come since the beginning, never once letting go of each other’s hands, facing anything life threw at them as a team.

All these years, and Carlos still remembered the night that forever altered their futures crystal clear. Two imperfect souls, meeting in the middle. Willing to share each other’s worlds, learn each other’s purpose, and choosing to love through it all.

Shifting back slightly so that he could look into TK’s eyes, the beautiful green orbs that never failed to be filled to the brim with adoration since that night under the stars, Carlos smiles.

“TK, baby,” He reaches up a hand, cupping his husband’s cheek and feeling his heart stutter when he didn’t hesitate to lean into his hold. Tilting his head to gently press their foreheads together, Carlos revels in the tender warmth of their bubble of intimacy.

It’s with shining eyes as he continues.

“You’ve been wooing me our entire lives.”

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #Fluff #A love through the years #Prompt fill #bellakitse

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