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kelly-bands · 1 year ago

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cake day ( CHLOE KELLY × READER )

one shot!

summary: It's wednesday, cake day! But oops, who said these two know how to bake correctly?

note: okay, this fic is according to that one survey (fluffly wins) and according to that request from chloe's pov, but I'm not a fan of writing in the first person and I decided to write in the third person.

Every wednesday of every week, of every month, Chloe Kelly and Reader would bake a cake together. It had no sentimental or significant value, the two simply entered into an agreement to always bake a cake that day, following the same steps and different recipes.

The problem is that the new recipe was more of an interpretation and cognition test for the couple than something simple and practical.

Chloe cracked the eggs in the corner of the basin: one, two, three… four. In theory, everything was supposed to be working since all the ingredients are there on the counter and so is the equipment. While Kelly started the recipe, Reader took care of the whipped cream and frosting.

" Why the fuck am I seeing four gems from afar, Chloe? " Reader complained, snooping behind her girlfriend's shoulder. It was the first sentence Kelly had heard since the two entered the kitchen minutes ago. The english attacker's optical orbs turned over due to the girlfriend's soon complaint.

" Because maybe that's what's in the fucking recipe?! " The blonde argued, leaving the cake spoon on the counter and resting her hands on the front of her white apron, intending to clean her fingers dirty by the egg whites that barely dripped.

" No, of course not. The recipe says there are only three. " A questioning and at the same time confident tone reached Kelly's ears. Reader approached the woman, while supporting the bowl full of egg whites and sugar between her arm and her chest, looking at the bowl with the supposed four egg yolks. " You don't by any chance know how to read, Chloe Kelly?" She mocked the situation.

Damn, Reader could be annoying. But very irritating when she wants to be.

The english slammed her spoon down on the table, placed the digits on her face and drained them, accompanied by a snort. "Why don't you read the recipe in the book before saying that? Maybe you're blind." Her tone rose a little, threatening to complain even more.

That was why all of Kelly's friends claimed that the two deserve each other. There were no differences, both personalities and tastes (maybe a little).

Chloe Kelly is a bit of an impatient woman, Reader too.

Chloe Kelly hates complaints, and so does Reader.

And that's exactly what the two of them were doing in the kitchen. The big problem is that perhaps it would be crossing the line, but that was the most common thing for this couple.

Reader glanced at the recipe written in the book, Kelly right after it too, but mostly pointing with her index finger where it said 'eggs'.

But the number was smudged and soiled with something dodgy.

" How do you expect me to read it if you got it dirty? " Reader complained once more, but this time with a mocking tone, aware that she would be irritating the woman more and more. Thus, she blamed Chloe for the mess that who knows who had made it.

Kelly frowned. She was praying she didn't explode in front of her girlfriend, though. This was one of the strengths of the english: even though she was impatient, she did everything not to lose Reader's company, because she adored him.

" Honey, love of my life, my princess, my love. I don't know." That was the most mocking tone Chloe could manage, since at this point, even if she was the most competitive woman in the world, she had already given up. And Reader could tell by her tone becoming calmer and lower afterwards.

Reader patted Kelly on the shoulder when she noticed her sulking, signaling that the player could continue the work that was almost going downhill, but being proud of her attempt to collaborate.

Chloe continued the recipe step by step, this time paying even more attention to each letter on that paper. At the same time, Reader was preparing the icing for the cake, mixing for a long time all the necessary ingredients.

The attacker slid the cake batter into the buttered pan, ready to be placed. Her fingers were smeared with sticky dough, grains of flour all over the front of her apron, almost as if she'd been dropped in the snow.

Baking wasn't Kelly's strong point, especially when it came to not making a mess in the kitchen.

But on the other hand, the blonde had Reader by her side. Mainly to clean up all this mess that the two made.

" That's it. " Chloe finished her part by placing the cake in the oven. Slowly she went to the faucet, intending to clean the dirty digits.

" Apparently everything worked out. " Reader dictated in a hopeful tone, after what happened. Her hands were still busy mixing the frosting, but this time, mixing the various dyes in an attempt to get the color correct (not so correct.)

After drying her fingers, Kelly's first move was to approach Reader, who was at the other counter. Chloe realized that her girlfriend would be scattered, focused on the cake, so she was opportunistic, wrapping her arms around the other's chest.

The english noticed how her girlfriend's body contracted, probably due to the fright and sudden touch. A giggle came from between those short, thick lips, close to Reader's ear. The lips descended to the shoulder, depositing a peck on the exposed skin of the Reader, in which she would promptly finish mixing the cream.

Chloe Kelly loved that, loved to always complain and argue about any micro movement of her girlfriend and then hug Reader as best she could. Be it kisses, hugs, caresses or whatever, it always soothed the blonde. Almost as if Reader was her safe haven, the only place the english could rest and take her thoughts miles from earth.

The blonde continued, her nostrils resting on the crook of Reader's neck, the sweet scent of frosting and the scent of, possibly watermelon, mingled and lingered there. This was another point Kelly loved about Reader, about how her scent was so strong (mainly because it was ALWAYS on Chloe's clothes).

" Try this, I also followed the recipe in the book. " Reader's index finger stopped backwards, even though she couldn't see Chloe properly. Covered in icing, it was an invitation for the player to put her lips there, to taste the frosting.

And that's what Chloe Kelly did. Her face, previously pressed against her girlfriend's shoulder, rose enough so that her lips could reach Reader's finger. Slowly wet lips supplied cream to index finger, ending with a small fragile bite. Reader laughed, probably because of the tickle the english gave.

" It's great. Much better than those bakery ones. " Honest and proud of Reader's talent, Chloe always distributes praise for everything her girlfriend does, and this time was no different.

The english felt Reader's body move, twisting and turning between Kelly's long arms, which released as soon as she noticed a change in her girlfriend's direction. When she realized it, Reader was literally in front of Chloe, inches away from the attacker's face. Reader's fingers slowly intertwined around the player's neck, pressing her body even closer to Kelly's.

Reader's back rested against the edge of the counter, while Chloe Kelly's frontal pressed even more, intentionally. The player's hands rested on Reader's forearms, which were pendulous and resting on Chloe's shoulder .

" What did you think of this new experience of making a cake? " Reader asked.

" Awful. " Chloe replied with no regrets. " But doing it with you was a little less work. " She completed.

" Other than the fact that you probably thought about throwing the cake at me… " Reader scoffed and chuckled, referencing the player's earlier irritation.

" Of course, you blamed me for something I didn't do. " Kelly also joined in the joke, adding a tearful tone to her speech.

"Pftt. I'm sorry then." Reader rolled her eyes, slowly dropping her head into the crook of Chloe's neck.

Again, Kelly's heart warmed as fast as a fireplace.

Even though she was a pretty closed off woman when it came to touching and silly emotions like that, she loved, adored, appreciated so much. Chloe Kelly would do anything so that every day she could feel that same touch, in every way possible.

The attacker's cerulean eyes landed fixedly on Reader's face, which in seconds rose. Moments like that where she could appreciate the beautiful face of her girlfriend were incredible, moments that the only thing that could remain was the physiognomy that always, always touched the lips in any region. These moments made her fall even more in love with the person Reader was. Moments that—

Oh shit.

The cake.

Fuck, Chloe Kelly. The damn cake.

"Shit."

Chloe broke Reader's embrace as quickly as if she were running away from her, heading straight for the oven; hot as fuck. Kelly reached for the first cloth she saw, with her other hand free, grabbed the metal handle and opened the oven.

At least something about this cake worked, which was not burning.

The digits gripping the cloth held the cake pan, which was clearly almost overcooked. The english quickly but carefully placed the cake on top of the counter. Finally able to breathe, the warm cloth was thrown over her shoulder and her hands to her waist.

“Please, let's change the cake day to something easier and more practical, Y/N” Chloe complained amidst the worrisome giggles, where she rested her fingerprints on the counter.

" If you say. “ Reader returned close to the player, at the same time, analyzing the cake inside the round mold. It wasn't ugly, or even looking like something bad, it was just… something.

The couple waited for the cake to cool, dispersing amid gossip and conversations that, in their view, would be interesting ( Discussing about species of dogs is certainly an interesting subject, Chloe Kelly.) After the necessary time, the blonde tried, carefully, remove the cake from the mold.

But it was not expected.

Even though the cake pan was buttered and Reader was there to facilitate Chloe Kelly's magnificent and crazy cuts, it didn't help one bit.

“Hand me the knife, let me do it for you. “ Reader was polite this time. She held out his hand hoping his girlfriend would give up the knife.

And this time Chloe didn't argue, discuss or even complain about Reader's attitude. Even her cheeks began to burn, perhaps from the embarrassment of not being able to cut the edges of a round cake. To help her girlfriend, Kelly fetched the bowl of icing, with mixed colors.

What the fuck?

How difficult is it for both of you to get something right?

“Ahm… Y/N. “ The english called out to Reader, who would be focused on finishing cutting this shitty cake that would be causing chaos in the kitchen. The frosting colors turned out terribly, TERRIBLY UGLY.

Something like gray mixed with brown, something like a five-year-old putting all the colors on the chromatic wheel and mixing. Chloe tried in every way to keep a small smile at least fake, so as not to cause any uncomfortable or uncomfortable feelings in her girlfriend.

“ Apparently I'm not the only one who has problems with cakes. “ Kelly finally said something after seconds of silence. And it was only after this speech that Reader turned her face, at the same time that she removed the cake from the mold with her hands, she also saw the shit she had caused in the color of the icing.

"What the fuck—" Chloe just stared at the woman who would be complaining in front of her, nothing new. " How did that happen?" Reader completed her sentence, with a forlorn tone.

" Nice question. " The english quickly tried to come up with some response that wasn't totally her own girlfriend's fault.

" Right. Let's take it easy, let's not give up now. " Oh, done. Now Reader was trying to come up with some solution to all this shit. " Let's use that, and as for the cake, it's okay to be almost breaking. " No, it's not okay. A cake breaking apart is not a cake, Reader.

Chloe rubbed her right eye with her index finger, this whole situation was making her tired. She went for a spoon and spatula, already intending to cover the cake.

Kelly immediately began icing the unfortunately gray frosting, while Reader just watched, not wanting to create any more intrigue.

And apparently, that was the only thing that had worked out of the whole recipe.

Slowly the cake would be taking a beautiful shape and its color, in the end, maybe it wouldn't be so ugly after all. Maybe something rustic, maybe something fashionable among wealthy elderly people.

Chloe focused on spreading that cream on the outside of the cake without saying a word. Little by little, her fingers began to get dirty, gooey, as a result of trying to turn the cake on the turntable. But it was her way, and in the end, the important thing would be the result.

Mainly the taste.

Reader looked down at her girlfriend, working hard to finish the cake. Days like these, even if they were disastrous, were the best days for both of them. Chloe Kelly's biggest hobby ever was spending time with her family, even on the few days she was able to travel there.

However, her problem of being away from her family was solved from the moment she began to consider Reader part of his family. So Chloe always gave her maximum effort in situations like these, even if she never even did it, even if they argued, even if unforeseen things happened.

Even if everything went wrong, it would be okay, because she is doing with the best person in her own family, Reader would always be on her side.

Deep down, Chloe Kelly loved spending time with her wife; your girlfriend, your family.

" What about? Kelly murmured, finishing off one last spatula on the cake. She immediately brought her wrist to her forehead, wiping the little sweat that was almost accumulating.

Surely if Chloe Kelly and Reader were on a cake competition show, they would be the first ones eliminated.

" Enough with opinions for today. Let's eat it now. " Reader's tone only confirmed that the cake was not in the best, not even aesthetically.

"Yeah, it's better."

Chloe selected a random plate from the cupboard that she could place the cake on top of, and said she did. The english took advantage of the situation to immediately cut it in a triangular shape.

She placed the piece on an individual glass plate and handed it over, accompanied by a fork.

" Moment of truth! " Kelly started her bad imitation of drums.

Reader allowed herself a smile as she slowly popped a piece of the beautiful cake into her own mouth.

Let's face it, Reader would have made the ugliest face in the world if the cake had tasted bad.

" It's not bad, but it's not the best thing in the world either! " She stated, licking her lips while letting out the cutest laugh possible. "Try it too."

Kelly picked up another fork, eating the same piece of cake.

It was true, it wasn't a bad thing. To be honest, in their opinion, it was better than some low-income bakeries.

" Don't doubt my baking skills. " The player, inwardly, felt quite proud of being able to bake a cake without exploding the gas.

" Right! Next wednesday, roulade? " Reader questioned and presented a new recipe.

Damn? This feels like a game of levels, each time you go up, the difficulty increases even more.

" And that talk about making something easier?"

" Forget it, it's always good to challenge yourself. "

" Okay. With you, anything. " There's a first time for everything.

And Chloe Kelly always wants to have the first turn of things with her girlfriend.

#chloe kelly #chloe kelly imagine #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #chloe kelly x reader #woso soccer #woso couples #chloe kelly enthusiast #fanfic #fic #fluff #chloe kelly fluff #woso fluffly #woso fluff #fanfic fluff

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eletricheart · 1 year ago

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You're Losing Me

(Mother Miranda x Reader)

*image creds to the owner

Word count: 1.255

song: You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift

ps: i've been trying this new way of writting my stories, i have the ideas but i still cant put it all in one story, so i'm connecting it to the song lyrics, just to get it out yk.

ps2: angst

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

You say: I don't understand, and I say: I know you don't

We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

Miranda had come back to the cabin after spending a week inside the lab. She expected to see you waiting on the couch but you were nowhere to be found inside the house.

It was three in the morning, way past the time you usually went to sleep. You considered waiting for her, at least during the first two days.

Miranda found you sitting outside, she sighed and sat beside you.

"You're late." You stated, keeping your eyes closed in a relaxed position.

She shrugged. "I had much to do."

You huffed. "I'm sleeping in my room, alone."

Miranda furrowed her eyebrows and looked at you. "I don't understand."

You sighed. "I know."

Remember looking at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light

Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

Miranda stayed around for a couple days before diving into work again. You became used to it, the silence, the loneliness.

You would spend hours sitting in your shared room, remembering how long it took to decorate since you had different tastes. Remembering how the morning sun would always give the woman a holy aura.

You missed her.

Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

I'm getting tired, even for a phoenix

Always rising from the ashes

Mending all her gashes

You might just have dealt the final blow

This time the priestess came back during the morning, but only for a few minutes. She had forgotten one of her notes for the meeting with Alcina.

You reassured her it was fine, you were fine, she could go, you could talk later, it's okay.

She just never noticed you.

Stop, you're losing me

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

For you

'Cause you're losing me

You'd rarely see her now. She was either busy with experiments or in another meeting with one of the Lords.

You started to hate the cabin, you would walk around the woods (the lycans were smart enough to not bother you), sometimes you'd even accompany Duke during his sales.

Miranda only noticed when you weren't there once she arrived, but didn't pay much thought into it.

Every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes

How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick

My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

You started to sleep less, to match her schedule.

You were exhausted, everyday you tried something new, anything to have just a moment with her.

And the air is thick with loss and indecision

I know my pain is such an imposition

Now, you're running down the hallway

And you know what they all say

You don't know what you got until it's gone

You had woken up to Miranda looking for something in the drawers, waiting for her to find it in order to speak.

You sat on the bed, facing her. "Mira, it's one a.m, can you stay? Just this one time, please."

She looked at you, hesitantly. "I apologize for waking you, but this is urgent. I'll be back, wait for me. Okay?"

You weakly nodded and she left without another word.

How long could we be a sad song?

Till we were too far gone to bring back to life?

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Miranda was stressed after the service at the village, and you were faithfully listening to every single complaint she was making. You dutifully supported her, just like all the other times she returns with a list of complaints big enough to write a book.

You accepted when she wanted to go over to Donna's for tea, even tho the priestess claimed you couldn't join because the dollmaker didn't like strangers.

Sometimes you still tried to prove that you could be there for her, but the woman never listened.

Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party (you're losing me)

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

Miranda stared at you in confusion. "You don't even like crows."

"But you do, this can be a group project, they become bearable when you're around." You responded, with a pleading smile.

She took a deep breath. "Sure, maybe next month."

You rolled your eyes. "I've got nothing to do right now, can't you fit this in your schedule?"

The priestess shook her head. "I have more important matters to attend to. We'll do this when I'm done, okay? Just wait a bit more."

And again, you nodded and she left.

And I'm fading, thinking

Do something, babe, say something (say something)

Lose something, babe, risk something (you're losing me)

Choose something, babe, I got nothing (I got nothing)

To believe, unless you're choosing me

You stood next to the door with your bag next to you. Duke had kindly offered to take you on one of his trips, you accepted of course, now you just had to tell Miranda.

Part of you wanted to just leave a letter, giving her the same consideration she has given you, but you couldn't. So now you were waiting.

When she arrived, the first thing to be said was "I'm really tired right now, we can talk tomorrow."

You were righteously annoyed, so you took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm leaving."

Miranda stopped before the stairs and turned around. "What do you mean by leaving?"

You nervously bit your lips. "Duke invited me to travel, I said yes."

She chuckled. "No."

You arched a brow. "I'm going Miranda, I just wanted to let you know."

Her smile turned into a frown. "When are you coming back?"

You laughed. "Really? That's what you're asking?"

"What do you want me to say?" She asked, slightly annoyed.

"Ask me to stay! Why is it so hard?"

"If you want to stay, why are you leaving?"

You put your hands in your head, trying not to cry out of anger mixed with sadness. "I just want you to care."

She sighed and walked towards you. "I care, why don't we talk about this later? We can unpack your bag, I'll even tell the Duke you reconsidered."

Tears were sliding down your face, which she was carefully wiping with her fingers. "We're not gonna talk, we never do."

Miranda nodded and pulled you in a hug. "I know, I've just been very busy lately. You understand, right?"

You nodded, weakly, hugging her tight.

She smiled, faintly. "Good. Let's go back up, it'll be over soon, you just have to wait."

You gently separated from the hug and looked her in the eyes. "I need time."

Miranda frowned. "You don't need to leave for that."

You smiled, weakly. "I know, but I want to."

The woman looked at you with furrowed brows and a frown, but still nodded. "Will you come back?"

"I don't know."

You're losing me

Stop (stop, stop), you're losing me

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

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masterlist

#re8 #resident evil village #non canon #resident evil #fanfic #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #re8 mother miranda #re8 miranda #resident evil 8 #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #Spotify

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shortkingkenny · 1 year ago

Note

Why do you think k2 isn't popular anymore?

hi anon! I love to talk so I'll answer this but I'll preface it by saying that although I'm not new to South Park, I'm newer to its fandom. I joined in like 2021 and by that point k2 had already fallen out of favor! before that I just observed it peripherally.

I think it's probably for a few reasons.

of the three main 4 ships for Kyle, it's obvious why k2 is the least popular of the lot. the other two have popular shipping tropes built in (best friends and rivals). there's also not a lot of canon moments to point to, you know, k2 doesn't have a "Guitar Queer-O" or a "Crack Baby Athletic Association" or whatever, really, whereas style and kyman have several such episodes. like I guess you have "Jewbilee" but a lot of people write off those early seasons. (and you have the Mysterion trilogy... to ME. pivotal k2 moments)

and I could end it there because that explains it for the most part but you're right. I think there was a time k2 was more popular than kyman at least (style was always reigning champ until creek took the crown!!!).

I personally believe that fandom (in general, not specifically SP) in recent* years has developed this sort of obsession with Ships Becoming Canon and that some ships are More Canon and therefore More Correct than others which has throttled both crackshipping and multishipping.

like idk there were obviously ship wars (nasty ones!) and OTPs in the 00s and 2010s, but it felt like people were more open to imagining the possibilities and potential between characters who may not have had much (or any) interaction, based solely on their personalities. there's a lot to say about the evolution of fandom as a whole but that's not your question.

so people have kind of settled on their one ship per character and that's it. most Kenny ships have been snuffed out by something or other (fitting) except for one. and that's bunny. and because it's got that one episode, it's now the Most Correct choice for him.

sorry you asked about k2 and I turned this into another complaint about the loss of Kenny biking :''( anyway, I think the appeal of k2 is the potential. you also can't approach it the same way you do style or kyman which I do think has stifled its popularity. this post, despite the broken links, is one of my favorite explanations of their fandom potential that also keeps in mind that we're working within the confines of what we're given. that is to say, South Park doesn't exactly lend itself to this sort of overwrought thinking but we all do it anyway.

it's not dead tho. plenty of people do still ship it and love it!! and I hope you support the @k2-fanzine when it comes out. but yeah you're right, it's lost steam and there's more reasons than what I've listed but I talk too fucking much.

*and by recent, I mean recent! I reblogged this list of character and ship weeks from the far off year of 2019 that @6ftkyle found while deep diving his old SP blog. look at all that!

anyway you should ask my bestie @6ftkyle these questions. he's the k2 guy. I'm actually a kyman truther but I think Kenny's gonna catch his mans Kyle in his fall from grace from their inevitable divorce.

and shout out to @deny-the-bird who asked for a shout out.

#there's also a lot I could say about kenny as a character both in the show and in fandom #and that people aren't exactly sure what to Do with him #and people includes Matt and Trey #he was created for a bit that's no longer utilized #and compared to the other three and even Butters there is significantly less development for him as a character #so you have to fill in a lot of blanks #which in ye olde fandom made him extremely easy to ship and imo still does #but what do i know #askskk

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Live from New York

You’re hosting SNL and get close with one of the cast members

Request: “hi! can you do something about pete where the reader is hosting snl and throughout the week they’re flirting with each other but she’s unsure if they should date and he convinces her? maybe a combo of fluff/angst/smut? it can be whatever :,)”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to take that long on this one and then I ended up watching an entire documentary on the making of an SNL episode because I wanted to be as accurate as possible… someone stop me pls

Word Count: 2834

Monday

Despite being a swiftly rising actress, you hated being the enter of attention. You’d always gotten anxious as a kid when a teacher made you stand in front of the class for presentations or during first-day introductions. So being front and center in a room of 30 people who were all there to study and try to impress you was not something you found pleasant.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke timidly to the crowded room, people clapping from their spots on the floor or various couches around the room, “it’s great to be here.”

Lorne cleared his throat, “alright, let’s start with you, Anna.”

You looked around the room as a young woman pitched the first sketch of the night, listening intently to her ideas while trying to match faces with the names Lorne had given you earlier. Then your eyes locked with a pair of deep brown ones, the man wearing a soft smile on his face. He radiated gentle energy despite the tattoos you could see running down his arms.

The pitches continued with an air of lightheartedness and fun. You found nearly everything funny, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to cut any of the sketch pitches.

After a lull in ideas, Lorne announced that cast members could now pitch ideas for Weekend Update character appearances. The man you’d taken an interest in earlier, who you’d since learned was named Pete Davidson, pitched a new set of characters for you and him.

“You know those weird stoner kids in high school who were always hanging out in the parking lot and acted really weird and mysterious? Those characters who just give really vague answers to anything you ask and act like they’ve seen some shit when they have the most normal home lives.”

You giggled, knowing the exact kinds of kids he was talking about. Colin and Michael also chuckled, writing the idea down with some notes of their own. Soon after that, everyone went back to pitching regular sketches, Jost and Che pitching an unusual number of sketches featuring you and Pete.

After a few long hours, the session wrapped; everyone leaving the office space except for you and Lorne, “so, what did you think?”

You chuckled lightly, “you have some seriously talented people on this show, Mr. Michaels. I don’t understand how you guys write an entire show every week.”

“We all work very hard; I’ll tell you that. Now, talk to me. Anything you really liked or really hated?”

You shrugged, “you’re the comedy mastermind, I know nothing. But I thought that weird kids from high school bit was pretty funny.”

Lorne nodded, “So did Jost and Che it seems. Sometimes the kid has a good idea.” You giggled at his reference to Pete as “the kid.” He sighed, “anything else? I noticed you liked that proposal sketch.”

“Yeah, that one was super funny. I will say, I wasn’t too in love with the dad-teacher one, but I would have no problem with it being done with someone else as the daughter.”

Lorne and you spent the rest of the workday discussing the different sketch ideas that came up and gauging what type of comedy suited you best. Before you left, he introduced you to Donna, your dresser who would be helping you out throughout the week.

Tuesday

After a quick tour of the studio by Donna, you were given a list of cast members and writers who wanted to meet with you to get ideas about sketches. You first stepped into a small room with a desk and futon, Donna introducing you to Chloe Fineman and Celeste Yim.

Chloe smiled brightly at you, “okay, so we were thinking that we could do something where I bring you to a sleepover with some friends that you don’t know. But at some point, you try to go to sleep because you have a soccer tournament in the morning but everyone else is being loud and it turns into this big overdramatic argument.”

You giggled softly, “I love that!”

After writing with them for a while, you were whisked away to room after room, finally landing in Colin Jost and Michael Che’s office, where they were hunched over a computer with Pete.

Colin smiled at you, “hey Y/N, how’s your day been?”

“Busy, how are you guys?”

The men responded with variations of “good,” before Michael spoke, “I know it’s late, so don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you’re comfortable with.”

You shrugged, “what time is it? It doesn’t feel that late.”

Pete laughed, teasing Colin and Michael, “c’mon guys, don’t you know that the young people of New York don’t sleep?”

You giggled in agreement as Colin frowned, “I’m only 38, that’s not that old.”

“I’m only 26, Colin,” you said, laughing at the men.

Michael patted Colin on the shoulder, “Jost, we’re getting old.”

Colin frowned before clearing his throat, “anyways, we had a couple ideas for some sketches with you and Pete, if you’re up for it, and we wanted to hash out your weekend update appearance.”

You smiled and nodded, “yeah, that sounds great.”

The rest of the night (and into the early morning) was spent with the three men, eventually joined by Heidi Gardner and Kyle Mooney to work them into the scripts. A majority of the writing process was simply messing around with various sketch situations until someone found a joke that worked best.

Pete watched you carefully the entire night, doing everything in his power to make you laugh. You had no complaints, doing your best to not openly flirt with him in front of the rest of the cast (and failing quite miserably).

Wednesday

Wednesday was the designated day for the roundtable readthrough. You took a place between Pete and Lorne, who began the reading, “we’ve got 41 sketches so let’s get started.”

The table read was just like any other you’d been through; Lorne wasting no time between sketches to discuss or joke. You struggled with containing your laughter throughout the reading, trying to act professionally. It didn’t help that Pete was making jokes any chance he got, eliciting even more giggles from you.

The three hours seemed to take no time at all as sketch after sketch was read out loud. Every so often you would catch Lorne looking at you with an eyebrow raised, usually after you read one of the sketches with Pete.

After everyone was dismissed, you were led to Lorne’s office with the head writers and producers. There was a large wall covered in sticky notes with each sketch’s name written on one. Lorne turned to you, “what do you think?”

You scanned the wall, listing off some of the sketches that you really liked, though most of them were great, so you had trouble narrowing them down.

Lorne let out a small laugh, “you guys noticed how she picked out the sketches with Pete in them, too, right?”

Your face went hot, immediately turning to face the ground. Colin and Michael chuckled, “we noticed,” the latter commented.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Y/N, just wanted to point it out to you.” Lorne teased before turning back to the wall and thinking.

You giggled, “you guys suck.”

As embarrassed as you were, your anxiety was surprisingly low. You had been worried about hosting since you got the invite, but the cast and crew had been nothing but kind to you. Even just being able to make jokes like this with the writers made you feel oddly comforted.

You worked on narrowing down which sketches to keep for rehearsals and which ones were going to get cut immediately, a job that was very easy for Lorne but very difficult for you.

Eventually you got it down to enough sketches that Lorne was satisfied and he sent out the list to the cast. He led you out of his office, “you know, you have a real affinity for comedy,” he told you. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about sketch comedy, but from that read through you seem to know what you’re doing.”

You blushed slightly, thanking him, “we’ll see if you’re still saying that on Saturday.”

He chuckled, “have a good night.” You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, running into none other than Pete Davidson.

“Hey, you headed out?”

You smiled, “yeah, just got out of my meeting with Lorne. Did you get a chance to look at the revised sketch schedule?”

Pete nodded, walking with you to the door of the theater, “yeah, I noticed you kept a lot of our sketches in there,” he bumped your shoulder, a playful smirk on his face.

A giggle rolled from your lips, “what can I say? We’re funny together.”

He raised an eyebrow, watching as you flagged down your taxi, “whatever you say.”

“Are you complaining about having to work with me?” You asked, opening the door.

He chuckled, “oh yeah. I am just dreading tomorrow.” Sarcasm laced his words, making you laugh.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Thursday

Donna ushered you around all day, making sure you were in the rehearsal space when you needed to be and supporting you from the side. This part of the process came naturally to you, as it was the most similar to rehearsing and filming on movie sets.

When you weren’t rehearsing a scene, you were hanging out with Pete. It was strange how easily you got along, your humors aligning almost perfectly. Not to mention he was a huge flirt and was making it more and more obvious with you. You flirted right back, earning looks of amusement from Lorne throughout the day.

The day was a whirlwind, and by the time you were able to go home, you were exhausted. Pete walked you out to the street again, talking about one of the sketches that went wrong earlier until your taxi pulled up. This time he opened the door for you and helped you inside, “see you tomorrow.”

You smiled up at him, “bright and early.”

Friday

After hours of rehearsing, you plopped onto the couch in Pete’s dressing room, where you had found yourself a home over the past few days, “I don’t know how you guys do this every week. I’ve been here for four days and I’m exhausted.”

Pete chuckled, “to be fair, you’re the host. The key is to try and only get one sketch into the show so that you don’t have to do anything during the week.”

You laughed, letting a comfortable silence fall over you. Pete studied you, taking in your tired appearance, “you’re doing great though, being a host. I’ve seen some people come in and try to take control of everything and then no one has fun. You’re really good at just letting the comedy speak for itself. Not many people do that.”

Shrugging, you responded, “I mean, I’m not a comedian, I’m just an actor. You guys come up with everything. I don’t know enough to try and control things around here, I just do what I can to make your visions come to life. I figured that’s what a host should do.”

Pete nodded, “yeah, but again, a lot of people want their SNL episode to look a certain way. You don’t seem to care.”

“I just want to have fun, honestly.”

He smirked, “are you?”

You looked up to him with a smile on your face, “definitely.”

Suddenly the speaker in the room rang out, “Y/N and Pete to main stage 1.”

Groaning, you lifted yourself from the couch, Pete watching you with amusement, “c’mon Ms. Host, we’ve got a show to rehearse.”

Saturday

The day was hectic; filled with rehearsal after rehearsal. Lorne and Donna made sure that you were comfortable all day, but you could feel the stress radiating from every inch of the studio.

Stronger than that, though, was the sense of excitement buzzing around everyone. You were fit into more costumes than you could count, all leading up to the final dress rehearsal of the night in front of the live studio audience.

Dress ran smoothly, but you could see Lorne cutting lines from sketches from stage out of the corner of your eye. Luckily, Pete distracted you from all the anxious energy. “I know Lorne looks like a psychopath, but that’s just what he does. Everything’s fine, don’t stress about it,” he said over dinner.

You chuckled, “thanks. I feel so out of my league this week.”

“I told you, you’re great. Everyone here loves you. I heard Lorne talking about wanting you back as soon as possible.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “yeah right, I’m never gonna do anything big enough to get me on this show again.”

Pete laughed, “you could always make guest appearances with me on the Weekend Update.”

“You aren’t sick of me already?” you joked.

After dinner you were paraded around by Donna, who got you into your style for opening monologue. She smiled at you through your dressing room mirror, “how are you feeling?”

You gave her a nervous smile, “terrified, but ready.”

The lady chuckled, “you’ll do great. I’ll be right offstage if you need anything.”

“Thank you, for everything this week.”

She squeezed your shoulders, “don’t mention it, though if you really want to thank me, go ask that Davidson boy out on a date.”

Your eyes went wide, “Donna!”

A chuckle rang out through the room, “what? I say it for your own good.”

She led you through a maze of hallways and tunnels until you were in place to walk onstage, the speaker announcing your name to the audience followed by cheers.

Exactly 90 minutes later you were gathered with the cast on stage, “thank you to Fletcher, Lorne Michaels, this amazing cast and crew, and thank you all for watching. Goodnight everybody!”

You turned to Pete, who was standing beside you and let him pull you in for a hug, “you did it!” he cheered.

You passed around the cast, giving hugs to as many people as you can before Lorne announced, “that’s a wrap on Y/N Y/L/N and Fletcher!”

Everyone cheered, clapping for you and your musical guest before heading to their dressing rooms to change into their night clothes. You went back to your own dressing room, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of accomplishment.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, “come in!”

Pete entered the room, a wide smile on his face, “congrats!” You let him pull you in for another hug, “so I know that there’s supposed to be this big party after the show, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner instead?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, those words being the last thing you expected to hear from him. Of course, you wanted to say yes because you did, truthfully, really like him. But part of you was hesitant.

You’d dated your fair share of celebrities, and things always ended very publicly and typically poorly. On top of that, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be happening a bit too quick. You started to doubt that he would still have feelings for you in a week since he wouldn’t be around you nearly all the time.

And then there was the issue of your insane work schedules. Having just lived through his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep a relationship like that.

“Pete, I think you’re amazing and I really like you, I just-“

Pete nodded his head, cutting you off, “I know we only met like a couple of das ago, but people go on dates with literal strangers all the time.”

You sighed, “it’s not that, Pete, it’s just that…” you paused, searching for words, “things like this tend to be very public with me, and I really don’t want to have a relationship where there’s all this pressure by the media to be perfect.”

He shrugged, “I get that, but it’s just dinner. And we can go somewhere quiet and private, no one has to know. And if things go further then we’ll just keep it on the down low until you’re ready. Trust me, I know what a public relationship is like, I’m not a huge fan either.”

“Yeah, but what about your work schedule. I mean, I’ve only lived in your world for six days and I want to sleep for a month. How do you even hold a relationship on this schedule?”

Pete moved closer to you, fingers grazing your arm, “we can make it work. I promise. Just give me one date, and if it’s not the best first date of your life, you have no further obligations to me.”

You giggled lightly, leaning into his touch, “I’m only saying yes because you’re kinda cute.”

He smiled down at you, eyes twinkling, I’ll take it.”

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fluff #snl

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cyborg-franky · 3 years ago

Note

Can I have something fluffy with gn reader x Law please? <3

I WENT ABIT MAD ON THIS. Law is like my best boy. I even have Law tats haha. so writing him after so long I was very nervous. I hope you like.

Law x GN reader SFW Fluff/Angst Words: 1,558 Not proof read oops

You had always wanted to go to sea, being a pirate wasn’t exactly what you had been thinking when it came to visions of the wide-open sea, beautiful sunsets and amazing adventures. But adventures you got regardless of the unforeseen career option. Your only real complaint apart from the dangers of the job was the fact that you felt lonely, being a Straw Hat pirate was great, you loved your crew but there was no one you felt a deep connection with, not the type you’d always longed for, someone to hold your hand, share a bed with.

That was until you’d met the surgeon of death, you didn’t think someone as harsh as him would have been your type. The way he always seemed pissed off and irritated at even being around your crew, the fact he just needed your captains help and had formed a hasty alliance that every moment of every day you thought he deeply regretted the choice, that much was always clear on his face.

You were shocked he didn’t have wrinkles with how much his brows were permanently furrowed, even when the man ate at dinner with you all, the way his stern expression never left his face. Whenever you’d glance at him you always thought he would be so much more handsome if he smiled.

Just like everyone that you’d come across during this new life of yours, Law was no exception, scars of a tragic past remained on his soul. You couldn’t blame him for that and at least he wasn’t ever nasty or ill willed towards anyone. He seemed to even get along with some of the crew. The less intense members.

Thinking back to the first night you really made progress with the heart pirate you recalled how it changed the way you thought about him. It had been late into the evening, everyone settling down to their own devices.

You knocked on Chopper’s office door, opening it before you got an answer, often the small medic had issues rushing from his chair and to the door to open it so you always just stepped in. “Chopper can you look at this for me?” you asked closing the door.

“The Doctor went to bed an hour ago.”

You gripped the doorknob, that deep voice certainly didn’t belong to the sweet fluffy reindeer, you took a breath, why didn’t you just wait for a response like a nice normal and polite person? You had never been in a room alone with Law until now. Taking a breath and telling yourself that your hand wasn’t going to get any better by just going to bed.

“Oh, sorry” cradling your sore hand close to your chest your eyes darted around everywhere you could to avoid looking at him.

He was sat at the doctor’s desk, a medical textbook open, a pot of coffee at his side. His normal irritated expression however wasn’t present, his brows relaxed, his whole posture in fact looked lazy, his long legs stretched under the table, he looked comfortable in the chair, like he was on his own ship.

“I can look at it.”

“Huh?”

He turned to face you, cocking his head to the side to give you his full attention, his gaze rested on your chest, or rather the aching hand you clutched there, feeling your own beating heart as he nodded for you to come forward.

“Are you sure?” You looked at the comfy stool next to his desk, inching towards it.

Your hesitation made him laugh, actually laugh, it was such a nice sound you decided, deep but smooth, you’d never heard him make any show of amusement, he hadn’t even cracked a smile in all the time you had known him. But here he was, the very person who had the reputation of being a twisted individual, a current warlord for gods sake, the surgeon of DEATH in fact, smirking at you as you nervously sat down where he’d gestured.

“I am still a doctor you know” another chuckle as he straightened up in his seat.

“I know I don’t look like one, but my father was a doctor, I learned a great deal from him, it’s not just my devil fruit that affords me my gifts” Law explained and crossed his arms over his chest waiting for you to go on.

“Sorry, I know you shouldn’t believer every rumor that floats out at sea, if I believed everything the papers or drunks in bars said I’d think my captain was the devil but I’ve seen that man with chopsticks up his nose, I’ve seen him sleeping like a baby, he’s no devil” You knew your nerves had turned into rambling, feeling your palms sweat at being so close with the other captain but his soft chuckle, under his breath, trying to be discreet. But you’d heard it, such a nice sound you mused feeling a little more at ease around him now.

“So?”

“Well, my hand hurts, ever since I climbed down from the crows nest about three hours ago, I think I got it tangled in the ropes as I slipped a little” You explained. Law nodded his head before he held his tattooed hands out.

You held your hand out for him, he gently took it in both of his, long nimble fingers moved over your digits, feeling different parts, he was surprisingly gentle, his hands warm and welcoming. You couldn’t help but stare as he expertly examined your aching hand. You felt your gaze drift from his hands, up his arms and towards his face. His expression was like nothing you’d ever seen on the warlord. Soft. The way his tired eyes looked over your hand, he seemed happy to help, in his true element.

If not for whatever plagued him in his past, would he have been happy just being a village doctor? He seemed at peace right now. You allowed yourself to smile, your heart beating faster for an entirely different reason then when you’d set foot into the doctor’s office.

His grey eyes met yours when he pressed a certain painful part of your hand and you yelped. He clicked his tongue pressed a little harder, flexing your hand in his grasp. You bit your lip and focused on where your hands met.

“Sprain”

“H-huh?”

“You sprained your hand” He pulled his hands away and you hated how your heart dropped at the loss of contact.

“Oh..”

Law pushed his chair out and stood up, walking around the doctor’s office and looking for things, opening a few draws. You did your best to stifle any laughter from watching the very tall man try navigating his way around storage designed for a very small reindeer. It was comical.

“Avoid using it wherever you can for starters” he explained pulling out a small box and returning to the desk. “Ice will help it; you should have come to me sooner about it but” yeah, he was a doctor alright you mused as he took your hand once more. “Ice for twenty minutes every two to three hours will help with the swelling, I’m going to bandage it up right now, a compression will help support your hand while it heals, I suggest elevating it as much as possible.”

You nodded along while watching him work on your hand, he did so much damage to people, you’d seen some of the things he was capable of, he was terrifyingly powerful. But the way he held your hand still, being firm but gentle was a side you didn’t think someone who’d swapped out people’s body parts and rearranged souls for what seemed like fun could ever be capable of.

“Come to me tomorrow morning and I can re-do it if needs be” you wished he’d hold your hand longer, but he moved to get something else, a little cup which held two pills.

“For the pain”

“Thank you” You watched him pour you a glass of water and handed it you, aiming for your good hand. You gulped the medication he’d given you and drinking the water to chase it down you let out a sigh.

Law simply nodded in response to your gratitude, saying nothing more as he got comfortable in his seat once more, taking a swig of his black coffee, no wounder the man never slept, you stood from your seat and excused yourself with a small ‘goodnight’ closing the door.

Walking along the deck, just the sound of waves lapping against the ship to keep you company. You turned the corner and pressed yourself against the wall, your newly bandaged hand laid over your heart as you stared out to sea, watching the moon shimmer across the dark surface of water. You felt your lip tremble.

The feeling you’d wanted all your life, the tight feeling in your chest, the fluttering of butterflies, all-encompassing feeling and desire to be by someone’s side. You were in love. You were in love with Trafalgar Law of all people, and you knew this wouldn’t end well for you.

You bit your lip, slowly sinking to your knees on the wooden deck of the ship. You could feel tears prick your eyes. This was going to hurt, worse then never knowing what it was like to long for someone.

#one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #angst #fluff #sfw #gn reader #nb reader #one piece law x reader

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jungshook69 · 4 years ago

Text

.:☆.°☾.Jealous.☾°.☆.:

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.

WORD COUNT: 1358 words

PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader

GENRE: Established relationship au ; Oneshot/Imagine

WARNINGS: None

ABOUT: This oneshot is part of a 7 part BTS imagine called “Jealous”. This oneshot is a reaction imagine of how each member would get jealous of their s/o in a given situation.

7 PARTS: Namjoon || Seokjin || Yoongi || Hoseok || Jimin || Taehyung || Jungkook

STATUS: Complete

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・

You felt a bead of sweat travel down your forehead as your legs moved at an incredulous rate on the treadmill beneath you. Your chest was heaving and completely drenched in sweat as you tried to keep your staggered breath steady. You shut your eyes close, as you tried to engross yourself in the music blasting through your air pods.

Two minutes later you heard the familiar beeping of the machine underneath you, indicating that your hour on the treadmill was over. You hopped off and turned your attention to the rest of the folks in the gym, disconnecting your air pods simultaneously.

You watch Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon lifting kettle bells in the corner, Jimin and Hoseok were still running on the treadmills and lastly Jin was situated on a pec-deck machine, and your boyfriend Jungkook was seated beside the older, lifting dumbbells.

You were their personal fitness trainer and took exercise very seriously. You liked to maintain a healthy lifestyle and were incredibly proud of your toned abs that were sprawled across your abdomen, as you took a quick take of your figure in the gym mirror.

You made your way over to Jin and Jungkook and observed Jin’s figure. Now this may sound a little weird, but you never ogled anyone in the gym. You didn’t look at them with lust. When you were observing someone’s figure, who in this case was Jin in a black tank top, you always kept it professional. Your mind immediately kicked into auto drive as you begin thinking about what machine you would recommend them to work at next.

“You know Jin oppa, you don’t need the pec-deck machine.” You spoke up after a minute of thinking.

You caught Jungkook’s attention too. “What?” Jin spoke up.

“See, you already have pretty broad shoulders like Taehyung, but your shoulders are already pretty uplifted naturally. So this makes it appear as though you’re naturally toned at the chest. And trust me when I say you have a great upper toned figure already. I think you should work on your quads. So I think you should ditch the 25 minutes over here every week and swap it out for 40 minutes on the seated leg press machine.” You state your analysis.

“Okay” Jin said without a complaint, moving to switch spots for the rest of the session. This is what you loved about working with them. They always respected your decision and knew that whatever was being suggested was only to make them a better version of themselves.

You were about to move on to the trio lifting the kettle bells, when Jungkook’s feeble voice stopped you, “Noona, what about me? Do I need to change anything?” he said his eyes sparkling.

That was something you found astonishing about him. How his face represented that of a young teenage boy, his doe eyes sparkling, while his body was that of a muscle man. But recently after you had complimented him on his cute face, he had taken it the wrong way, and had decided to grow his hair out, indulging into man buns, in an attempt to make his face look more manly. You absolutely loved his long black hair, but you had kindly explained to him that he needn’t look all macho all the time to impress you. After understanding the situation he had decided to keep his long hair, as he’d fallen in love his new look.

“Noona?” Jungkook’s soft voice disrupted the array of your thoughts.

“Yeah… no… you don’t need to change anything babe, I think your routine is fine, at least for another month.” You said turning on your heels to move towards the trio in the other corner of the gym.

Before you knew it, you were assessing the three and assigning them their respective machines. You were right in the middle of checking Yoongi’s weight plates so it wouldn’t be too strenuous on his fragile shoulders, when a loud yelp echoed off the walls of the gym followed by a loud thump. You motioned the others to wait as you ran towards the source of the familiar voice.

Your eyes met with the sight of Jungkook’s left hand gripping his right shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth partially open, gasping for air, a pained expression written all over his sweaty face. Your eyes shifted to multiple giant weight plates all on a pile on the floor, having slid of the dumbbell bar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your voice half-laced with annoyance, half with concern.

“I was just… lifting weights” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah I can see that. But why are they out of your weight class? Why did you add on an extra 10 pounds to the barbell?” you ask.

“I just wanted to try something…”

“Well you can’t just impulsively change your weight class Jungkook. It’s gonna strain your arm muscles. No wonder you got hurt.” You said crouching down to your knees as you tried to move his arm back and forth, checking on his muscle strain.

“I just wanted to improve my frame…”

“Well you can’t do that Jungkook. We follow a level of professionalism here. There’s a reason I’m your personal trainer.” You said sternly. Nothing came in between you and strict professionalism, and Jungkook knew that. It was part of the reason as to why he found you so enticing.

“I- I’m sorry” he said chest heaving.

“You gonna tell me why you really did that babe?” you say in a softer tone. You could tell Jungkook had a hidden intention behind his impulsive action.

“No reason.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Jeon, tell me…”

“Fine! I got a bit insecure when you were complimenting Jin hyung’s figure, so I wanted to change things up a bit…” he said sighing.

“Gguk, hey look at me…” he immediately looked up to the voice of you calling him by his nickname.

“Listen… please don’t feel insecure… it’s my job to observe and analyze your guys’ figures and ensure you guys remain healthy and fit. And the comments I throw around about your bodies during our sessions are merely to decide what’s the next step to keep you guys in shape. It’s my job Gguk, you need to understand. I am in no way comparing you guys to each other okay?” you said calmly explaining to him.

“Okay…” he said a small smile forming on his lips.

“Promise me you won’t go ahead and do anything impulsive like that again… because if you hurt yourself, your fans are gonna be really upset and worried about you.”

“Yeah…”

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook, I never thought of you as the jealous type.” You said giggling after a short pause, trying to lift the tension in the room.

“Noona… hush” he says his cheeks turning red, as he refused to meet your eyes.

You drank in his flustered and disheveled state as you bent down to his level and thread your fingers through his long black hair. His eyes visibly widened as you closed the proximity between the two of you.

“You have some guts, telling me what to do Gguk…” you said dominating the chiseled man in front of you. You watched as his Adams apple bobbed up and down nervously.

“N-Noona… someone might see us…” he gulps, his breath uneven.

“Let them” you say connecting your lips in a steamy kiss, the fear of being caught, leaving a feeling of excitement shiver through your body. You let your tongue dart out, tracing a warm trail along his soft lips. Just as he opened his mouth to give you the entrance you ever so subtly asked for, you pulled your tongue away, completely disconnecting your lips from his.

You watched his hooded eyes, blown out with lust, flutter open, as he looks at you with his mouth agape.

“Sorry baby, duty calls.” You say standing up, smirking.

“B-But…” you watched his adorable red cheeks as he struggled to form words.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” You say winking and walking away to resume your job, leaving Jungkook’s mess of state behind.

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write Y/N as a dom character and the male lead as a sub character. Also I wanted to show that Jungkook is a perfectionist. He wants to be good at everything, and he is, owing to his competitive nature. But I just wanted to make a point that he doesn’t have to be good at everything for us to love him. We all love him no matter what, and that he doesn’t have to strain himself, just to feel loved by us.

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69 for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

TAGLIST: @yzkyzkuniverse

ENDING NOTE: Hey guys! I just wanted to say I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of love my series got. I never expected more than 3 people or so to read my story. But you guys surprised me with the amount of people who liked my series. I just wanted to say a big thank you for the support as it motivates me to work harder and give you guys better works in the future. Sending you all a big virtual hug, stay safe, and I look forward to sharing more of my writing with y’all :)

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

Text

a field of daisies

Imagine running into a group of survivors that you decide to take a chance on and bring them home with you. Your decision ends up leading to a reunion no one saw coming, not even yourself.

Words: 7.1K Author's Note: TWD AU. This particular universe has a lot of characters and making sure everyone has a line or three is tough work, so I made up my mind to only keep a select few. This will take place after the prison has fallen, but before Terminus so the group is not as harsh because of what happened there. I get why everyone turned ruthless, but damn.. Rick got scary. Haha. Also, just so you know, Y/N is a powered individual (the gif of Wanda is just to show how your powers look/work). SPOILER ALERT! This piece of work is.. slow. There's nothing much to it- it's honestly just Y/N bringing the group into the fold. I've been having a rough few weeks and it really shows in my writing. I'm sorry this sucks, but I really needed to get something out.

It was pure dumb luck that Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie and Carol ended up together after the fall of the prison. Rick and Carl had fled together, Michonne followed the blood trail Rick had unknowingly left behind, and Daryl had later caught up to them because he was with a new group that was hunting Rick which he didn't know about until it was too late. Daryl, Rick and Michonne took care of things quickly, and it was a relief to Rick that Daryl still had his back.

Glenn and Maggie came a couple days later with Judith snuggled into a makeshift pack hanging off of Glenn's back, and the group stumbled upon Carol who kept them from entering the so-called sanctuary called Terminus. Apparently she had been keeping an eye on the place from afar, and after the horrors she witnessed Rick and the others were glad they just so happened to choose the entrance she was near so that she was able to stop them.

Hershel's death still weighed heavily on everyone's mind and Maggie was sad that she didn't know what had become of her sister Beth. Lots of people's fates were unknown, but the ones that left everyone the most downtrodden were those of the children that the prison had housed.

The group has taken momentary refuge in a barn, their spirits low and dwindling even more as the days pass. Food and water were scarce, and ammunition was pretty much nonexistent. Daryl had a handful of arrows left and everyone was left to depend on blades to protect themselves.

Judith's sudden cry pierces the quiet of the barn and everyone flinches. Rick readily gets to his feet, rushing towards his daughter and lifting her from the bed of hay they designated as her bed. "Shh. I got 'ya. I got 'ya, sweetheart."

Carl joins his father, frowning at his sister's reddening face. "She's hungry, isn't she?"

"We all are," Rick grumbles.

"There's got to be something out there," the young boy sighs. "A place we haven't come across or a house that's not been picked clean."

"Everyone's tired, Carl. We're all running on fumes." Rick continues to rock his baby girl, heart breaking when her wails only get louder and more desperate. "If we go searchin', we're likely to make a mistake and someone will lose their life."

"Well we can't let her starve."

Rick glances around his exhausted group, a look of determination in each of their features. He sighs and glances down at Judith in his arms. "Tomorrow. We'll go lookin' when the sun is up."

Carl nods and brushes his finger along Judith's brow before leaving his father to settle the baby down on his own.

- - - - - - - - - -

You'd been gone for a day and half now, intent on finding some things those in your community have asked for. Unfortunately everything close by had been picked clean which led you to driving further and further out, and right into an oncoming storm.

You tried to drive right on through it, but the rain just came down so hard to the point that you could not see through the windshield. And since it was nighttime, you knew there was a high chance you could wreck. So you pull off to the side, cut the engine and lean back in your seat to wait it out.

Thunder rumbles so loud it actually shakes the truck you're in and lightning strikes a tree not even a hundred yards away. "Oh screw this," you mumble to yourself. You turn the truck back on, carefully inching your way down the road and hope that you don't hit anything. But then lightning strikes again, you swerve on instinct, but are quick to slam on the breaks. "Shit."

There's a split second of reprieve from the rain- just long enough for you to see a building off in the distance. You know it's a dumb idea to even check it out, but you rather be in a barn struck by lightning than be in the truck. So after cutting the engine once more, you reach over to the passenger seat for your pack and beanie. Shoving the gray beanie down atop your head, you brace yourself before opening the door and hopping out.

Slamming the door behind you, you rush through the rain and towards the barn doors. Pushing on said doors, they open far too easily and you rush to close them behind you. Then with your back against the doors, you hold your hands aloft at your sides should you need to protect yourself from a dead skull or three. But surprisingly there are no dead in the barn, instead a group of the living around a small fire stare at you with wide eyes.

Immediately the people are on their feet with their weapons trained on you, a baby is passed off to a preteen, and the group of adults slowly advance on you.

"Whoa," you utter. "I did not know this place was occupied. I don't mean any harm. M'just tryin' to get out of the storm."

"Are you alone?" The man that had passed off the baby asks, a long barreled gun pointed at you.

His companions spread out- a guy with a crossbow hurrying to the wall to peek through the cracks. There's a Korean guy and a woman with hair just barely touching her shoulders standing side by side, blades in hand, and a black woman with a wicked looking katana held at the ready. The last woman with shortly cropped gray hair points a glock right at you without even blinking.

"Um, yeah."

"You don't sound so sure," he grunts.

"Well you're all pointing weapons at me," you say. "It's a little intimidating."

Crossbow guy returns to his friend's side, shaking his head and muttering something too low for your ears to catch. The main guy talking nods meeting your gaze once more. "Weapons?"

"None."

"Mind if we check?"

You shrug. "Have at it."

Spreading your arms out wider, you push off the barn doors and stand with your feet a little spread out as well. The woman standing next to the Korean guy steps forward and cautiously makes her way towards you. You meet her gaze, keeping your expression neutral, but give her a nod to let her know you were good with what was going on. Her hands land on your waist then, patting you down and checking for weapons.

Her hands slide up your sides and under your arms, and you press your lips tighter together when she hits your ticklish spot. A giggle ends up breaking free and you immediately apologize when she freezes. You think you see her faintly grin before she continues on down your legs and around your ankles.

"She's clean," the woman says as she stands back up and then steps back.

"What's in the bag?"

"My snacks," you muse. "I was looking for a few things and had to travel out further than normal. I've been driving for nearly two days now."

"You got a group?"

"I have a community." They seem to blink in surprise at that.

Crossbow guy looks at who you assume is their leader. "Explains the too clean clothes," he grunts. Then looking at you, he says, "But 'ya damn stupid to be out here with no weapons. It's a goddamn miracle 'ya survived this long."

"Mister, I am the weapon." That seems to make the tense all over again, frowning, and you sigh. "Look, I'm not normal. I don't need weapons because I am literally the ultimate weapon. Now if that makes you uncomfortable, I'll stay my butt over here and just wait out the storm. Then I'll be on my way and we never have to see each other again unless we run into each other in the future. That sound good?"

No one voices a complaint against you so you walk over to one of the wooden beams supporting the barn and take a seat on the ground. You get comfortable, stripping your pack off your back and setting it next to you. The group has no idea what to make of you so they continue to stare at you until the baby in the preteen's arms starts to fuss.

Minutes pass as the baby continues to wail, her cries only getting louder. The thunder doesn't seem as loud as before, so you know if there are any dead nearby they'll be drawn towards the barn because of the baby's cries.

"When was the last time she ate?" You ask when you see them shush and rock her in order to calm her. A few of them glance at you and it's then you actually take in their appearances. They're exhausted. They're hungry. They're desperate. "Actually when was the last time any of you ate?"

Crossbow guy grumbles, but it's the preteen boy who answers. "Days. A week or so maybe."

Frowning, you pull your pack into your lap and open it up. Rummaging around the inside, your hand wraps around a small mason jar with a spoon rubber banded around it and you grin triumphantly. "I, uh, I have this if you want it," you say as you hold the jar up. "Mrs. Stevens makes a mean cinnamon applesauce." Your grin slowly falls as you take in their stares. "Or not. I won't be offended."

"No." The gray haired woman steps forward. "We'll take it, but you need to eat a spoonful yourself first."

"Uh, yeah. Sure, but I don't know why.." Your brow furrows as you free the spoon from the rubber band and untwist the top, and then it hits you on why they want you to eat it first. You gasp as you stare up at them. "First off, rude! Do I really look like I'm capable of poisoning a baby?"

No one says a word at first and then, "Well you did say 'ya were different."

You roll your eyes at the crossbow wielding guy. "Not that kind of different." Sticking the spoon into the applesauce, you pull up a spoonful and shove it into your mouth. Swallowing, you place the spoon back in the jar and hold it up. "Happy? It's just cinnamon applesauce."

The leader rushes forward and grabs the applesauce from you, sniffing it as he walks back towards his group and taking a spoonful for himself. When he deems it okay, he then feeds it to the baby girl. Almost immediately, her cries turn to whimpers before ceasing all together.

"You guys are welcome to whatever's in my pack because, no offense, but you look like you need it more than I do."

The Korean guy is the first to crack, rushing towards your pack that you let him freely rummage through. "Is this- is this jerky?"

"Yep. Mr. Mills has a knack for drying out meat and smoking fish."

As he passes out the jerky, water, and a few MRE's, he then looks at you with an astonished expression. "I'm Glenn, by the way. And this is Maggie." The woman who had patted you down gives you a terse smile.

"Michonne," the katana wielding badass says.

"Carol."

The man feeding the baby glances at you. "I'm Rick. These are my kids Carl and Judith."

You look towards the crossbow guy, but he's shoveling an MRE into his mouth and not paying you a lick of attention. "Y/N," you then introduce yourself to them.

You watch them eat for a few seconds before you avert your attention, listening to the sounds outside the barn. The storm seems like it's finally dying down, but the moans and groans of the dead seem to be getting closer and closer now. You get up and walk towards the door, peeking through the cracks and quietly exhaling at the small herd heading straight for the barn.

"You guys have something to prop against the door? We've got incoming."

A scoff comes from crossbow guy. "Thought 'ya were the ultimate weapon?"

"Daryl!" Carol admonishes.

Your eyes narrow at Daryl who shrugs under the stares of his group and you sigh. "Fine. Whatever. All I ask is that whatever you see, you ask questions before you decide to attack."

"Why- why would you say that?" Glenn asks.

"Because like I said, I'm not normal."

With that you turn around, opening the barn doors and stepping back. Staring at the small herd that's coming in, your left arm lifts up and curls around the front of your face as your right arm lifts up underneath. The only difference is that your left hand starts to glow and you swing back briefly before thrusting your left arm out and sending off a red wave of energy that rushes through the heads of the dead ones and instantly drops them in their tracks. You walk forward then and shut the doors, only to turn around and have Daryl aiming his crossbow at you.

"Seriously?" Your arms hang limp at your sides.

"What the hell are 'ya?"

"Human, as far as I know," you say. You mentally sigh as everyone shifts nervously. "Just with a little extra oomph."

"That was some sci-fi bullshit 'ya just pulled there."

"Well whatever it is, it's come in handy since the world fell apart so I'm not complaining about it anymore."

Rick, having passed Judith off to Carl, steps forward. "This community of yours, are there any more people like you?"

You shake your head. "Nah. I'm the only one."

"How many people are you with?" Carol asks.

"Around twenty or so. Me and this little girl I came across a while back are the youngest. Everyone else is sixty-five or above." You huff. "Kid guilt tripped me into saving a few individuals from a retirement home we came across and gave me the idea of a place safe enough to almost be normal."

"Exactly how safe is this place of yours?" Maggie then wonders as she glances at Judith and Carl.

"There's a, uh, shield of sorts around this abandoned housing community. The dead bounce off the invisible walls and the living need permission to enter which I'm smart enough not to give."

"People try gettin' in before?" Daryl asks.

"A group of three about a couple months back. I would have given thought to letting them in, but my powers kind of misfired and I was able to read their minds," you sheepishly admit. "They- they were not good people. Not by a long shot."

"What happened to 'em?"

"I put them to sleep and had a talk with everyone inside the community." You shrug. "I didn't know what to do, so I asked for everyone's advice. It was either kill them or manipulate their memories and send them on their way."

"What did you do?" Carl asks. He's the only one who has a look of awe on his face.

"I kept them asleep and drove them out in a random direction. After about two days driving, I put them up in an abandoned house and let them wake up long after I had left."

"Why are you answering all our questions?" Michonne asks. "Someone like you, it seems like you'd keep your powers a secret."

"Honestly? You're the first kind group I've seen in a long while. You saw what I could do and yet you asked questions first rather than letting Daryl put an arrow in me."

"Would my arrow have even reached 'ya?"

You smile at Daryl's grumpy expression. "Not even close." There's a challenge in his eyes and his arm twitches, but Rick shakes his head at his friend. You quietly chuckle. "If you guys wanna sit and talk, I'll answer what I can. I don't mind so long as you don't plan on attempting to put a bullet in my brain or a blade to my neck."

Everyone looks to Rick and eventually he gives a terse nod. They hesitantly go back to their fire, huddling closer together and you slowly make you way over to sit across from them. The baby seems rather content now so Rick finally takes a moment to eat something himself.

Bending your knees, you pull them in towards your chest and drop your chin on your knee. "So what do you wanna know?"

Glenn immediately leans forward. "First of all, this is something straight out of a comic book." He grins and you can't help but smile in return. Maggie snorts and shakes her head, rather fondly, at him. "So what I wanna know is if you were born like this or if you had a bad visit with the doctors?"

"I was born like this," you say. "I think it started manifesting when I was about eleven or twelve. Mom and dad were obviously terrified, but I was still their daughter and they refused to just let the government have me. It took- it took months of research before they found a legit scientist who was running tests on people like me in order to help. So they met up with him and let him poke and prod to get the answers everyone was seeking."

"Did they find anything out?" Carol asks.

You shake your head. "No. There were no abnormalities in my or my parent's blood, and every other test was coming back completely average. My powers or magic or whatever you wanna call it honestly scared me, so the scientist had concocted some pills that suppressed it. I never got to learn how to control it and only really got to see what I was capable of when the world collapsed and I ran out of suppressors."

"So what, you're just this powerhouse walking around without a care in the world?" Michonne frowns.

"I have many cares," you say, head lifting to stare directly at the woman over the fire. "I have a little girl and a handful of old geezers counting on me back home. I'm just fortunate enough to be this powerhouse, as you say, so the others don't have to come out into this shit show that has become our norm."

Judith starts to fuss again and neither her brother or father can calm her. You can see just how exhausted everyone is, so you take the initiative to help them out when you see Rick cringe after smelling the baby's bottom. Grabbing your pack, you grab the notebook in there and yank out a sheet of paper. Then letting the paper rest in the palms of your hands, you concentrate on the red wisps of energy pooling in your hands and transfigure the sheet of paper into a diaper. More sheets of paper are ripped out and you quickly transfigure those into small rags.

"There's a bucket in the back of my truck," you say as you hold out the diaper and rags. "I'm sure it's full of water by now so you can dip the rags into the water to wipe the baby down."

Rick blinks at you in surprise, walking over to you and grabbing the items. He nods. "Thank you." You flash him a faint smile in return.

He looks at Daryl and he hands over his crossbow to Carol. Taking the rags from Rick, he motions for Glenn to follow him should he run into any trouble outside.

The two men return soon enough and Rick readily starts to make his daughter comfortable once more. As she struggles against him and wildly kicks out, you chuckle and decide to let a small orb of red energy pool in your palm. Then flicking your wrist, the small red orb shoots over to hover above Judith and bob up and down. It does it's job, distracting her so her father can easily change her.

"That must come in handy back at your community," Maggie muses.

"I don't really show off like this in front of them," you sheepishly admit. "Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but they don't really ask me to do anything other than to help keep them safe and keep their houses from deteriorating." There are hums and grunts, but everyone is more interested in filling their stomachs. "Well if I'm going to be on my way come sun up, I should get some rest."

No one objects, so you get up and walk back over to the opposite side of the barn. You sit down in a corner, trying to find a comfortable enough position so you can get a bit of shut eye.

When you wake up, the sun has not fully risen yet. It's a little lighter in the barn and you can see without the small fire throwing off light, so it's easy to spot Rick keeping watch by the barn doors. You sit up, stretch, and sleepily climb to feet in order to join him.

"You guys rotated watch?" You mumble. "You should have woken me."

Rick grins. "Nah. We had it under control."

"If you say so."

His grin subtly falters and then he quietly clears his throat before glancing between you and his group. "So before you go on your way, can I have a word?"

"Sure." You yawn. "Lets just go outside so we don't wake anyone." At Rick's nod, you open the barn doors and exit as quietly as you can. He follows you outside and you glance around for any dead before crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face Rick. "What's going on?"

He stares at you, clearly trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts. It takes him a moment to gather himself and then finally he says, "I know we just met each other last night, but is there any chance- any chance you might be willin' to give us a chance? I'm supposed to be this group's leader, but I am runnin' on fumes here. We all are. We're desperate." Your heart goes out to him and you can't help but frown. You understand desperation very well and you figure it must be worse on him because of the two young children he has. "This world, as vulnerable as it is, it's not a place I want to raise my kids."

"Rick, I-" You pause, sigh and then start over. "Of course I'd be willing to give you guys a chance."

"But?" He pushes, seeing the flash of hesitance in your expression.

"No, no buts." You shake your head. "You just- if you guys want to be a part of this community, you have to actually want to be a part of the community. No drama or violence is permitted within the walls. My sole focus is making sure these people live as long as possible and I won't have anyone jeopardizing that."

Rick nods. "We're all for playing fair. All we're askin' for is a chance. A real chance at survivin'."

"Well then I guess today's your lucky day." You hold out a hand for him to shake. He holds your gaze before glancing down at your hand and hesitantly reaching forward to grasp it. "So do you want to tell them the good news or..?"

Rick huffs a laugh of disbelief as he retakes his hand. "Are- are 'ya serious?"

"Yeah. Why not." You shrug. "The community could use a good shake up, so come on. Lets go wake your people up."

You and Rick re-enter the barn, but you let him wake his family and friends on his own. You gather your pack, tossing the trash and rearranging what's left. Rick tells them the good news and you smile when you see them sag in relief. They have no belongings whatsoever, so they pick up what weapons they have and make to exit the barn.

"Um, Carl and one other person can sit up front with me. Three others can squeeze into the backseat with Judith and two can ride in the very back." There are nods of agreement all around before Daryl and Glenn climb into the bed of the truck. Meeting Daryl's gaze, you say, "You and Glenn keep watch. If you see anyone, pound on the roof. I don't want anyone following us."

He gives you a terse nod. "Got it."

"Or if you and Glenn want to switch out with someone from the inside, pound on the roof. I'm gonna drive as long as I can, but if anyone wants to stop during the night we will."

Everyone seems to agree, letting you decide whether or not you drive through the night. You'll make that decision when the time comes, so as everyone else climbs into the cab of the truck you open the driver's side door and get behind the wheel. You bite back a smirk as you grip the steering wheel in hand, red wisps of energy wrapping around the wheel before disappearing into the guts under the hood.

"So that's why we didn't hear the rumble of an engine," Rick muses. "It's runnin' on magic."

"Beats having to find and siphon gas," you say. Everyone chuckles and after making sure Daryl and Glenn are steady, you drive off.

Not even five seconds in and you hear, "What the hell kind of truck is this?"

Daryl's gruff question makes everyone inside the cab laugh, but no one bothers to fill him in.

- - - - - - - - - -

You drive well into the afternoon, only stopping when Glenn and Daryl grow too hot under the sun and switch out with Rick and Michonne. The bit of food you had left in your pack was divided up among the others again and then when the sun set you had stopped to instruct those in the bed of the truck that they could sit or lay down since they wouldn't be able to see anything come nightfall anyway.

Your constant yawning had Maggie concerned, but you assured her you'd done a drive like this numerous times. All you asked was that they talk to you, so to keep things light they told you all about their accomplishments since the world had ended. Carl mentioned being reunited with his dad after being told he was dead, Maggie mentioned finding love with Glenn on her father's farm, and Daryl mentioned finding a prison that they stayed in after clearing it out as much as they could.

You didn't bother asking what had happened to the farm or the prison because you knew full well what happened to places left out in the open. Sooner or later they got taken over, whether it be by the dead or living. So when they ran out of happy tales, you filled them in on your own. You told them all about coming across the retirement home- about how you and Daisy (the young girl you had saved) were allowed to stay with them for a bit while you went out everyday to find a more suitable living situation. You had still been experimenting with your powers, so it was a miracle you managed to fix up an entire housing community and erect walls around it.

Only about half of those in the retirement home chose to go with you and Daisy, and that was even after finding out what you were capable of. The others were grateful for the invite, but they had families they wanted to look for or were too old and didn't want to be a burden on anyone. No amount of pleading from Daisy could sway their decisions.

A new day dawns and the environment around you starts to become familiar. You perk up in your seat and drive just a little faster because after being out for so long all you want is your bed and a shower.

Only you can see the entrance to the community and you know the others can only see what everyone else without permission to enter sees- a run down housing community that was way passed being livable. So stopping right before the barrier, you gesture for everyone to get off with you after letting the truck cut off.

"What's going on?" Rick asks as he hops out of the bed. Michonne follows him.

Facing the group, you grin. "The community is just behind me," you say while gesturing over your shoulder. You see them glance behind you, frowns marring their faces. "You're just seeing what I want everyone who passes by to see- a place not worth investigating. So with your consent," you hold a hand out just at shoulder height, letting a red glow envelop it, "I just need to push a little energy through you so you can see what I see."

Everyone is caught off guard and wary now, but surprisingly it's Carl who says something. "Will it hurt?"

You glance down at him and smile. "Not at all. I promise. Everyone inside has admitted to it feeling like a cold chill running through them and then nothing. Absolutely no pain."

As you guessed, everyone looks to Rick. He takes a moment to think about it before saying, "Do it. But if there's any pain at all-"

"There's not."

"Good." He nods. "So what do we do?"

"Just stand there. I'm the one who has to do all the work." Letting your arms hang down by your sides, you shake yourself out before concentrating on letting your power pool into your hands once more. Then when it feels like you have enough energy to pass through all eight individuals, you face your palms towards them and push out. The energy leaves you and passes through them, and only a couple of them stumble back a step or gasp in surprise. When they finally take notice of what's actually behind you and their jaws drop, you chuckle. "Welcome to your new home."

"How- it looks untouched." Carol mumbles in awe.

"Well it wasn't," you say. "It took me a few days to fix up several blocks of houses. Then about a week to get the solar panels set in with the help of our retired electrician. We were just lucky a water tower was placed close by and the new water lines were set in before the world ended. It's easy to keep the tower operational and our houses supplied with running water."

"This is insane," Glenn mutters in awe. Maggie nods along with his assessment.

"When you reach the barrier, you're going to feel a little resistance. That's normal." you then explain to them. "All you have to do is keep walking through and you'll come out on the other side."

"And if we wanna leave?" Daryl asks. Everyone looks at him as if he's crazy for already thinking about leaving, but he merely huffs and explains further. "To hunt or make runs, not find shelter elsewhere."

You shrug. "Then you leave. You'll feel the resistance again, but that's just so you remember where the barrier is. Now that you've been given permission, you can come and go as you please. But please remember, once you're behind the barrier, anyone who hasn't been given permission to enter will just see you vanish into thin air. So make sure you're never followed or if you are make a beeline for the barrier and come get me. I'll get them outta here." Everyone seems to be in agreement and you smile. "Well come on. Let's go find you a house or two."

Turning around, you readily walk towards the neighborhood. The resistance of entering doesn't faze you as it once did, so you hurriedly turn around to see everyone's reactions. You see when they hesitate and you laugh as they continue on through and seem to all breathe a sigh of relief. Then once they have their wits about them, you gesture for them to follow you.

A few people are sitting out on their porches, some surprised and others (looking at you Gladys) are ecstatic.

A wolf whistle pierces the air and everyone glances in the direction it came from. "'Bout time you brought in some good lookin' fellas! I was getting tired of looking at Tom's ugly mug."

Michonne and Carol snort as Maggie and Carl giggle, and you shake your head at the white haired, seventy-eight year old woman. "Gladys, stop teasin' the men. They literally just got here!" You holler back.

"Any of them single?"

"Oh my god. Go take a cold shower, you cougar!" Gladys cackles and you groan quietly before looking over your shoulder. "Sorry about that. I should have warned you about Gladys and her tendency to hit on any man that isn't her neighbor."

"S'alright." Rick chuckles. "It'll be nice to have some normalcy back in our lives."

"What's with the bars on the doors?" Michonne then wonders.

You look at one house in particular, it's front door having another door of bars attached in front of it as well. "The houses with bars on their doors were requested by those living in the house. These people are at the age where they can easily pass away in their sleep without warning, and after an incident back at their retirement home they requested bars on the doors as a precaution. They lock in a couple of places from the inside."

They seem to agree that that was a good idea as you nod at everyone else coming out to see what Gladys was yelling about. When you spot Mary Alice, a sixty-seven year old ex-nurse, you start to walk towards her house. "Hey Mary Alice, have you seen Daisy around? I want to introduce her to some new people."

Mary Alice stands up and walks over to the top stair of her porch. "Oh. Hello." She beams. "It's nice to see some capable, new faces around here."

"Ma'am," Rick drawls.

You can practically see Mary Alice swoon and you mumble, "You're going to give every goddamn old lady heart palpitations in here," under your breath. Rick chuckles and you clap your hands to garner Mary Alice's attention once more. "Mary! Where's Daisy?"

"Oh, um." She pauses as she fluffs her hair. "Last I saw her, Dave had asked her to help him pick some fruit from the garden."

"Okay. Thanks." Turning around to face the group, you smile sheepishly. "Maybe I'll just show you to your house first. Daisy might be busy for a bit longer." You're about to motion for them to follow you when you see Daisy appear from between two houses, munching on an apple and looking as carefree as a child her age should be. She meets your gaze from across the street, but before you can draw any attention to her you notice her steps falter as the most heartbreaking expression takes over her features when she sees who's with you. For a second you think this group might not be as innocent as they seemed, but then-

"Momma?"

Time seems to slow as Carol, of all people, freezes and then turns around. She stumbles back, hand going to her mouth in shock as she chokes on a sob. "S-Sophia?"

Your eyes widen at what's unfolding before you- Daisy (apparently Sophia) dropping her apple core before sprinting across the street. Carol meets her halfway, the two colliding with one another as their cries pierce the air. The rest of Carol's group looks on in awe before they join in on the reunion and you laugh as your vision suddenly blurs with unshed tears.

You startle when an arm settles across your shoulders and you glance over at Mary Alice smiling as she watches the reunion as well. "Did you know?"

"Not a clue," you say. "This is just an insane coincidence."

As everyone else takes a turn reuniting with the young girl and introducing her to the new faces, Carol glances up at you and starts to make her way over. You smile as she nears. "My Sophia was the kid you mentioned, wasn't she? The girl you saved before you came across the retirement home."

"Yeah. I just didn't know her name was Sophia." You chuckle. "She said something about her name making her sad because it reminded her of her mom, so she chose a new one."

"Why Daisy?"

You shrug. "Because we were walking through a field of daisies and she liked the sound of it."

Carol wetly chuckles and you give a surprised oh when she yanks you into a hug. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping my baby girl safe."

"No thanks needed, Carol. Whether your daughter knows it not, Daisy- er, Sophia- saved me as well. I'm just glad I could reunite the two of you."

The two of you pull out of the hug just to see the rest of the group making their way towards you, and Sophia hurries to wrap her arms around your waist. "Thank you. Thank you for finding my family."

"Don't even mention it, kid." You ruffle her hair, chuckling. "I'm just glad you found each other again." As you look up to meet everyone's house, you say, "So about your house.."

The group chuckle and you finally lead them to a couple empty houses just down the block you currently reside on. You inform them that every house in the neighborhood was built with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Rick tells you they'll take just the one house for now until they're acquainted with their surroundings and you let him know that that was fine, but in a few days you were taking a group out to pick out furniture and appliances for two houses.

Daryl scoffs. "Where exactly does one go shoppin' in the goddamn apocalypse?"

"In the store Y/N hid with her magic. Duh!" Sophia muses. Daryl glances down at the young girl before a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. She beams at him and he playfully reaches out to ruffle her hair.

"So, uh, yeah," you muse. "You guys can go ahead and wait here while I go round up a few sleeping bags that we can transform into mattresses," you tell them. "The water should be working, but you might want to run the faucets and showers for a minute or so to make sure all the air is out of the pipes." You start to back away down the sidewalk, heading towards your house. "I'll even knock on a few doors and see if there are any shirts and pants anyone is willing to let go of so you guys can shower. You can change into clean clothes while washing those you have on right now."

Before anything can be said, you turn around and make your way towards your house. You're not sure why all of sudden you became nervous- there is nothing to be nervous about- but you felt yourself suddenly getting anxious under all their gazes.

It doesn't take you long to find a few sleeping bags in your garage, so you take those with you while stopping by next door. You ask your neighbors for any sleeping bags or air mattresses, as well as a change of clothes, and they're all too happy to accommodate the newest residents of your sleepy little community. So by the time you make it back to the house where you had left the group, arms laden with bags that are threatening to cut off the circulation in your arms, you aren't surprised to see some of them already holding dishes of food.

"These old ladies sure do work fast." You laugh. Rick and Glenn are quick to pass off the dishes in their hands in favor of helping you bring in the stuff for them. They take the sleeping bags from you, leaving you with large shopping bags full of clothing. "So do you guys want everything set up downstairs or you do want to sleep in separate rooms already?"

"Downstairs is fine," Rick says. "At least for now."

In the living room, the sleeping bags are all rolled out and the air mattress is blown up. Rick settles Judith down on the mattress and Carl is quick to crawl on next to her. You've only enlarged one sleeping bag- the one Glenn and Maggie seemed to have gravitated to- when Rick stops you, telling you that you've done more than for him and his family. You ask him if he's sure and he nods, but you can't help just one last wiggle of your fingers to give the sleeping bags a little extra cushion.

"So I guess I'll leave you to it," you say. "In the bag with the clothes, there are plates and utensils. Everyone's offered up their laundry rooms for you to use, but if you're uncomfortable encroaching in on their houses then just get Sophia to show you to mine."

There's a round of thank yous as you leave so you wave and let them settle in. As you're walking out the front door, before you can shut it behind you, someone's gripping it and opening it wider. You're surprised to see Daryl follow you out.

"Everything good?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods, hands finding their way into his jean's pockets. He shuffles rather sheepishly and you can't help but grin. "Yeah. All good here." You nod and turn to head down the stairs, only for his gruff voice to stop you in your tracks and make you turn back around once more. "Thanks. You didn't have to bring us in or trust us with your secret, but 'ya did. You gave my group a fightin' chance- 'ya gave those kinds in the house a fightin' chance. So thanks."

You smile at him. "You're welcome." He meets your gaze for a moment, eyes hidden behind a curtain of hair and you chuckle. "Go grab a plate of food and a shower, Daryl. You guys are safe here so relax. All of you look like you can sleep for days."

He shakes his head. "We still got people out there."

"And that sucks, I'm sure, but you need to look after yourself first," you say. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you're falling over your own two feet because you're beyond exhausted." Daryl shifts on his feet, his expression turning rather displeased. "Rest up and I promise that when you and a couple others are ready, I'll be right there with you to find your people."

Daryl holds your gaze before he relaxes a bit and he gives you a terse nod. "Fine. Until then, 'ya gotta learn not to rely on 'ya powers or whatever. Gotta keep that a secret until the last second."

Your nose wrinkles and then you sigh. "And here I thought I was done with physical education."

#the walking dead #twd gen fic x reader #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #daryl dixon #rick grimes #carol peletier #michonne #maggie greene #glenn rhee #carl grimes #judith grimes #sophia peletier

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togetherwearerapture · 4 years ago

Text

Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

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

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible. I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

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

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #tobias carrick #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick x mc #open heart #choices open heart #open heart 3

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borkthemork · 3 years ago

Text

BorkMork’s Amphibia Fanfiction Recommendations

There are so many absolutely fantastic fics out there, so these will be generalized. They could be character studies, one-shots, anything that was able to pull in my interest and leave me an absolute mess.

I won’t be tagging the authors here because I don’t want to bother them, but if any of you do know them feel free to tell them that their creativity and works are lovely, and that they have made my day ever brighter.

Anyways, let us begin.

Any Work by MayDayGirl_Save_Our_Ships

Okay so I was part of the Amphibia fandom back when it first aired. And back then there weren’t that many fics even though I was craving to see more focus on the Plantar Family and how much they mean to Anne, and overall character studies. So when I read Two Truths and a Lie, the characterization pulled me and it still aged well regardless of the new info we got about these characters today.

Years later and I am pleasantly surprised to see that the characterization once again swings and succeeds with the other fics MayDay has created. I laughed, I yelled, I felt numerous feelings for the Plantar family, and I would highly recommend their content.

bloom by dragondawdles

I haven’t been here when I saw the boom in Newtopia fics, but I had a massive craving to see Marcy fics when she first arrived in the city. Dragondawdles pulled me into this fic immediately with their prose, the characterization of Marcy and Lady Olivia, and also the really cute doodle that accompanied the story itself.

It gave me everything I wanted, and to see Marcy be curious over Lady Olivia made me ponder even more about how they acted toward each other. Overall, a cute one-shot!

Any Work by DeeTheTeaDrinkingDragon

There is something gentle about the tiniest touches, of well-done prose and filling in the potential blanks. I first read Constellations when I scoured around for some Marcanne content, and this one was the softest cuddling fic I had ever witnessed with my eyes.

It was vivid, very visually stimulating in its wholesome atmosphere, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Also, Dee’s Stay was able to check off everything I speculated for Marcanne in Season Three so me and my friend were yelling loudly over that. Would recommend them!

Any Work by feebop

I love character studies. I love authors who can pull me into the narrative through dialogue and description. Put it all together and you get feebop’s Starlit Review and Painted Yellow Lines.

Honestly, I reread them just because I feel so inspired by the attention to detail and the prose itself, they’re that good. And being able to see character studies between Marcy and Sasha always left me satisfied. I cannot recommend their stuff enough!

Any Work by mira_blue

That’s right, more character studies! Mira_blue has a few fics already but my absolute favorites would be her stuff on Marcy and Sasha, because those left me to speculate about those two more than anything, and it’s always lovely to see people’s takes while keeping the people in-character.

This Is Home is dear, because damn you can definitely get me emotionally wrecked in under 1,500 words and this is a great example.

Dance With Me by Hugh Jidiot

Long fics here we go. It took a bit to get me into Dance With Me, but when I finally had to time to read it I was absolutely pulled into Marcy and Anne being absolute disasters while trying to get ready for a massive social event. There are a lot of laughs, lots of events being filled in-between, and some study into Marcy’s thought process when it comes to socializing with people.

Few key comments on the fic itself. It took a while to get used to the newt ocs but they became absolutely enjoyable as things went on, and my favorite would be Fiona, just saying.

Also the practice dance scene was the hardest I’ve laughed in 2021 so thank you, Hugh, for this beautiful piece.

Any Work by Mighty_Ant

Fill-in-the-blank fics are always fun, but man Mighty_Ant knows how to write these so well, especially when it comes to what is basically the physical representation of emotional as heck music.

Reading the fics always flowed well to me when I narrated to myself, and you could tell the person is a professional writer with the amount of techniques used to emotionally fuck me up, especially Sasha’s story.

Thank you, Mighty_Ant, and I can’t wait for your Marcy fic!

Is She Really Your Daughter? by red_lensed_glasses

Do you ever just want to read a fic about Anne’s parents and their perspective of Marcy? And then cry? For hours? This fic is for you.

It’s such a really interesting take when it comes to how the Boonchuys perceive Marcy, and the ending got me very, and I mean very, upset for really good reasons. This fic is a recommendation, I love it!

Anne 2.0 by mandaree1

I always wondered if Anne ever got a scar from, y’know, breaking her arm, so this was a delight to read when it came to Marcy’s POV of the situation. You get Marcy being an analytical nerd in her writing style — in an intriguing second-person, no less — and it’s just really good!

Heron by TheDinosaurNerd

I stumbled upon this fic while I was looking for some Grime and Sasha one-shots, and I really liked the dialogue found in this! Very succinct, to-the-point, but in said succinctness you are able to form a really well-done fill-in-the-blanks story.

not delivered. by camomile_t

God. This is one of the big ole’ fics in this fandom that is keeping me alive throughout the hiatus, I love text fics when done well, especially when they utilize the features and limitations to basically do storytelling, and this is one of those examples. Cause holy shit.

This fic takes any theories about what could happen in Season Three and goes the limit. You get Marcanne, you get a well-done mix of comedy and angst, you get Sasha having her redemption, you get the Plantars/Boonchuys being a supportive family, and a lot more!

I binged the hell out of this and kept up with each update with much eager anticipation. You have no clue, my friend and I keep speculating and theorizing in DMs over this fic. It is so good.

There Will Be No Dancing by PartlyCloudySkies

I have read this fic so many times. Ten? Twenty? I don’t know, but I keep coming back to this just because of how well-written it is. When I tell you that this fic plays out like a legitimate Amphibia episode, I absolutely mean it.

This fic is an Amphibia episode from some alternate universe and is now given to us on a silver platter.

And for what????? We were given to this free and we’re supposed to take it with no complaints?????? Understandable, have a good day. I can’t.

You get amazing pacing, a writing style that fits Anne’s perspective to a T, dialogue and comedy logic that hits what Amphibia is all about, and you also get two girls being gay in Newtopia. What’s not to love?

Go read it. Do it. Put a comment. I don’t know what you do, but just acknowledge the fact that this fic has ruined the shit out of me and now I cannot recover, ever.

#amphibia #marcanne #amphibia spoilers #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright

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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

AO3 Link here

Masterlist here

Their daughter enters the world squalling, tiny and pink and bloodied and somewhat wrinkled but healthy which is all that really matters), and Atsumu’s eyes widen before immediately filling with tears when the doctor places her in his arms.

‘You did amazin’, darlin’ he whispers, running his finger against their daughter’s cheek reverently. ‘She’s perfect’.

‘Make sure you count ten fingers and toes before you say that’, she manages to say before dropping her head back into the pillow, bone weary from her labour, and he laughs through his tears.

They name her Shino, which means stem of bamboo. She reasons that if their daughter is going to take the Miya family name, she should in fairness have a name that represents her side of the family – and besides, she’d always been drawn to the whimsicalness of the tale of the bamboo cutter, but thought naming her baby ‘Kaguya’ might be a little on the nose. Atsumu’s grandmother isn’t terribly pleased, but her stoic father bursts into tears when they tell him, and immediately sends over a crate full of toys carved out of the bamboo from their family’s ancestral grove.

The press has a field day when MSBY’s PR team releases news of their marriage and Shino’s birth, but thankfully the full weight of the team’s PR machine manages to twist the coverage to repackage Atsumu’s image as a wholesome family man, so the articles remain relatively positive. Still, they’re forced to sit through a number of photo shoots to keep the press happy, and she shudders at the office gossip she knows she’ll have to face when she returns back to work.

His teammates crowd to greet Shino when she brings her out for one of their matches for the first time. Atsumu presents Shino proudly to his teammates - ‘look at what I made’, he demands, dangling her in his hands so they can ooh and ahh over the little girl - ‘ I learnt it from one of those kiddie cartoons I watched at night when she wouldn’t sleep!’ he tells her later when she scolds him for the precarious hold.

She has to shoo Hinata and Bokuto away when they try to hand Shino a volleyball, the ball looking comically big against the baby girl. Sakusa stands at a respectful distance away, but hands her an adorable onesie in MSBY’s black and gold, wrapped carefully in plastic. The corner of his eyes crinkle behind his mask when he tells her it’s so Shino can support them properly at their next game.

‘Aww, Omi-omi! I always knew you liked me deep down inside’ Atsumu crows, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping his hands.

‘You’re insane to marry him’, Sakusa tells her, refusing to even acknowledge Atsumu’s tomfoolery.

‘Maybe I am’, she grins, warmth furling and unfurling in her chest.

Despite her initial fears, Atsumu falls head over heels for Shino, and continues to allow their baby daughter to wrap him around her tiny finger. He wakes up without complaint for night feedings, spends nights pacing their little apartment coaxing Shino to bed, and straps her on his broad chest for what his pronounces ‘daddy-daughter’ adventures during the off-season when she’s away during the day for work. On weekends, they bring Shino to the park to watch the birds and the clouds in the sky, to the aquarium to watch the fish in the sea, and to the museum to marvel at dinosaur bones from a distant past.

It’s at the museum that Shino says her first word, sitting between Atsumu’s legs in the museum sandbox, digging her chubby hands in the sand in search of fake fossils.

‘Say that again’, Atsumu laughs wetly, pressing kisses to the top of their little girl’s head.

‘Oto-san!’, Shino crows, the look on her face so reminiscent of Atsumu’s expression whenever he’s pleased with herself that she’s torn between feeling pride at her precocious little girl - and horror that she’s going to have her hands full with a mini-Atsumu.

‘You’re daddy’s little girl, aren’t you, princess?’ Atsumu says proudly, and Shino claps her hands as he cuddles her close to his chest. He later tries his level best to empty out the museum gift store of toys to commemorate the day and she has to slap his hands from tossing in ‘just one more toy’ into their checkout basket.

‘Are you happy, ‘Tsumu?’ she asks him later, after they put Shino to bed.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he asks with a puzzled frown. ‘I have everything I need.’

‘Just checking’, she replies, her doubts forgotten when he tugs her into bed.

For Shino’s first birthday, both their families squeeze into their apartment to celebrate by strapping a giant piece of mochi that Osamu made to her back, a tradition to rid young children of any impurities. Atsumu nearly trips over himself trying to capture a photo of the auspicious moment Shino falls over on her butt, and showers kisses on her proudly when she does not cry.

They also carry out the erabitori ceremony, setting in front of Shino several objects symbolising the various paths she might choose in the future. Aside from the common items like an abacus, writing brush or books, her brothers insist on including a knife (sheathed, of course), earning raised eyebrows of Atsumus’s family. Osamu tosses in a kitchen spoon and Atsumu naturally places a volleyball right in the center of the spread.

‘Cheatin’ pig’, Osamu mutters when Shino ends up picking the volleyball (attracted by its bright colours, he maintains), but Atsumu ignores him, tossing the little girl in the air in delight.

‘Darlin’, come take a look at this! Kageyama-kun’s playing his first game in Rome, and it looks like - I can’t believe this, why does his technique look better than before?! What - is the water he’s drinkin’ overseas magic or something? How’s he getting so good?’

‘Tsumu, could you keep it down? I just got Shino to bed, and I really need to finish the work I didn’t have time to do ‘cos I took over her pick-up today’. She replies wearily, typing furiously at her laptop.

‘Sorry. I’ll pop over to chat with ‘Samu then, be back late!’

She nods distractedly as she hears the door click behind her back.

‘I can’t believe I screwed up so badly at practice today’ Atsumu grouses, chin propped up on the wooden countertop of Onigiri Miya in between mouthfuls of food. ‘I kept missing my serves, and then that asshole Omi-omi dared to laugh when I ran around trying to get my head back into the game –‘

‘Tsumu’. Osamu cuts in, setting another onigiri in front of him. ‘As much as I want to listen to you complain about your no-good, very-bad day, could’ya help your poor wife out a little bit?’

‘Thanks ‘Samu’, she musters the energy to give him a distracted smile, juggling a bowl of rice porridge she’s trying to persuade Shino to eat and preventing said little girl from smearing rice grains all over the place.

Atsumu plops Shino onto his lap, and continues talking over her head. She takes the opportunity to stuff her face with food – glorious food, and doesn’t notice when he maintains a sullen silence as they walk home.

A hush ripples across the stands like a tsunami when Atsumu gets substituted midway during the last set of the match. She isn’t surprised, not when he started playing badly during the set – there was a little kid that screeched just as he was about to serve, and he’d hit the ball way out of bounds. That had been the start of his downward spiral during the game – his dump shots got picked up, his blocks weren’t quite on point, and worst of all – he’d somehow managed to misjudge the timing of a toss to Hinata-kun, the ginger haired spiker looking confused when the ball missed his hand.

He’d stormed off the court the minute the referee’s whistle sounded, frustration and anger written all over his face and she’d made a beeline for the locker room, tucking a sleeping Shino into her carrier. She can hear him yelling (at himself, most likely) and the distinct sound of flesh hitting metal, and is about to burst in to comfort him when Sakusa steps neatly in front of her to block her way.

‘Sakusa-kun’, she greets him, eyes darting towards the door.

‘Miya-san’, he nods at her, face already hidden behind his usual mask. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb him just yet.’

She opens her mouth to object, but Meian Shugo, the team’s broad shouldered, good natured captain, plants a hand on her shoulder to gently steer her away. ‘It’s not a pleasant sight when he’s in a funk’, he tells her quietly. ‘Let us deal with it, we’re used to him. Do you need me to call you a cab?’

‘He’s my husband – I should be the one to deal with him’ , she wants to say – but doesn’t, because Shino jolts awake and starts to wail. ‘It’s fine’, she does say, hushing her little girl. ‘I’ll hitch a ride home with ‘Samu instead’.

She meant to stay up to wait for Atsumu, give him his usual kiss and listen to him talk about his day, but she’s out like a light when her head hits the pillow (it’s been a long day, in her defense) , and she has to leave in the morning for work before he wakes.

‘Everyone has their off days, but you’re an incredible setter, you know?’ she does tell him that night over dinner. Shino squeals and smashes her hand into the bowl of food.

‘Of course I am’, he frowns at her, almost as if he thinks it’s odd for her to even feel the need to say that, and turns away to ruffle Shino’s hair.

She waits by herself in the lobby of her office building for five minutes before she gives in to her impatience and calls him.

‘Tsumu? Weren’t we supposed to meet for lunch today?’

‘Oh shit – I’m sorry, doll, I promised Hinata-kun that I’ll come in for extra practice today. I’ll make it up to you some other day, ok?’

She sighs through her nose. ‘Ok – have fun dear’, she replies reluctantly, and he ends the call before she can say any more.

She can feel the gaze of her colleagues on her back, and plasters a smile on her face before marching off to her favourite dessert place, comforting herself with a box of mochi. She buys an extra box for Osamu (they had a specialty flavour just for the season, and she knows he’s been dying to try that) , and drops it off on the way back home.

Atsumu complains about only getting one piece of mochi when Osamu sends him a picture of her gift – she can imagine him gloating even though the picture is unaccompanied by any text.

‘You don’t even like chestnut!’ she scolds Atsumu, and he sulks.

‘Tsumu! Could you come help zip me into my dress?’ she calls, checking her watch impatiently. The babysitter should arrive in five minutes to take care of Shino for the night while they’re away at the team’s annual gala party.

‘Yknow’, we’d get there a lot faster if you hadn’t sold your old scooter’, he tells her, as he steps into the room, immaculately dressed in his best suit.

‘I told you – it’s not practical to keep a scooter around when we have a young child’, she answers, already weary of a conversation they’ve had multiple times before.

‘I’m just sayin’, he says lightly. ‘Oof – sorry, darlin’, the zip ain’t budgin’.

‘But it fit perfectly fine the last time I wore it’, she frowns.

‘You must’ve put on some weight’, he says absently, the heat of his hand burning on her hip even after he walks away.

‘Tsumu, seriously? I told you yesterday morning that we’re out of milk powder and diapers!’ she growls into her phone, cramming her way onto the subway. ‘Fine – whatever, you go for training, I’ll deal with it myself’, she ends the call, dropping her phone like a hot stone into her pocket.

She runs to the supermarket during her lunch break, cursing herself for wearing heels instead of more comfortable flats, picking up two packs of diapers, a double can of milk powder, and a pack of wipes on discount - all things Atsumu should have picked up last night, but he claimed he was too busy with training and club events to pay attention to a simple errand like this –

She’s so lost in her thoughts she doesn’t notice when her foot misses the curb and lands on her knees in the dust, the contents of her bags spilling onto the road. There are scores of people on the street but no one stops to offer their assistance, so she ignores the searing pain to pick her precious supplies up before they’re lost in the crowd.

The blood from the cuts on her knees drips down her calves, and she limps her way back to the office.

‘Trouble in paradise?’ Yuna-san asks with a curious smirk on her face when she heads back to her seat, eyes red, knees wrapped with white bandages.

‘No, nothing like that’, she answers the office gossip, keeping her voice deliberately light.

Atsumu only grunts when she asks him that night how his day went, kneeling down to greet Shino with a hug.

‘Won’t be stayin’ for dinner, got a team event at night’, Atsumu calls out to her, one foot out of the door.

‘What? You should’ve told me earlier, I’m already halfway through preparing dinner’, she shouts back, hacking at the vegetables on the chopping board with a vengeance.

His only reply is a slam of the door, which startles Shino enough to cry. In her hurry to get to her daughter, her hand on the knife slips, and she cuts open her hand.

The space beside her remains empty throughout the night, and she falls asleep pretending the only pain she feels is from the bleeding gash on her hand. She’s so exhausted she does not wake until her alarm rings, not even when the surge of rain overnight batters her windows and water floods the streets.

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mxtcha-tea · 4 years ago

Note

useless love letter with oikawa & kuroo?

Useless Love Letter.2

✎desc; when he receives a love letter from someone else and you’re unphased by it.

✎pairing[s]; kuroo x gn!reader (let me know if i miss any)

✎genre; angst, unrequited love (not proofread)

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; I ran out of ideas so I can't do Oikawa's part (my motivation istg smh)

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. You three all became friends a lot more quicker than anyone could’ve expected. And the friendship started the same way, from Kuroo annoying you two and becoming enemies when you first met.

Kuroo’s the one who bands you all together into this lump of mess and y’know, he’s glad that he did. High school couldn’t be even more exciting with both of you by his side.

But the more time passed, the more his feelings for you took a slight turn. It was the end of summer when Kuroo started realizing it. You came to his house because you forgot to do the homeworks they’ve given before summer starts.

Sure, it was a pain in the ass having to deal with your complaints and groan echoing every corner of his room. He thought about kicking your out right that instant but something in him told himself to just let you stay there longer.

Watching you from the corner of his eyes, freezing like a statue while squinting your eyes at your exercise book, a pen between your upper lips and nose. It’s not the prettiest image, he had to admit, but you look the most beautiful when you’re doing the most random poses.

Then, his mind drifted to every key memory of you, the way his cheeks would turn into a rosy color when your skin met or when his mind malfunctioned when you held eye contact with him. You drive him insane and Kuroo has no idea if it’s a good thing or not.

But it sure gave him butterflies and made him feel at home. So, maybe it is a good thing. He’ll always have sleepless nights where he can’t think of anything else other than you. He hates it when it happens because it made him feel like a creep.

Kuroo wondered if you felt the same. When he blushes, would you react the same? When he stuttered out, would you do the same? He wasn’t entirely sure, so he tried his best to be as close to you than he’ll ever be.

Even if it may take forever to let those 3 words out from his vocal chords, it’ll be worth it, he knows it.

The bell rang, signalling end of the 3rd period. Yaku sighed, cracking his knuckles before walking towards your desk. Kuroo can be seen sitting in front of you, probably annoying you yet again, “Hey, [y/n], have you written any notes during class?”

Yaku asked, reaching for the nearest chair and sitting on it, leaning his arms onto your desk, “A little,” “Only a little? I honestly thought that you’re not going to write anything,” You tch’ed, holding out your middle finger at Kuroo while the bedhead just snickered,

“It’s none of your business, Mount Fuji hair,” But at that, Kuroo snapped. Yaku tried to hold in his laughs and hitting the desk a little, “Oi, stop coming up with new nicknames for me,” “No, I think that nickname suits you the most, Mount Fuji hair, Mount Fuji hair,”

Now it’s your turn to snicker at him while mockingly pointing at his hair. Yaku finally releases his laugh while holding you for support. For some reasons, that action pissed him a lot more.

Who did he think he is to just touch you like that? But he managed to calm himself as he points at you, trying to figure out a better remark to counter your insult,

“How ironic hearing it from-” “UM, SORRY,” He got cut off as he looked to his left, finding a girl, probably from a different class standing next to him with a nervous face.

Both you and Yaku stopped laughing and also took your attention on the girl. With shaky hands, she holds out a letter to Kuroo. All three of you went wide eyes at that as the same exact words run across your minds,

‘A CONFESSION LETTER?!’

“Please accept this!” He slowly takes the letter from the girl’s hand, nodding, “Oh, um, okay,” And with that, the girl ran out from the classroom, face visibly red from being nervous and probably embarrassment.

It was silence before all of you looks at the letter in Kuroo’s hand, you look up at his face, who’s also looking at you and the same thing with Yaku,

“HAH! Look at who’s Mr. Popular right now,” Kuroo stated, pointing at you with a smirk plastered on his face, “Ugh, you’re so annoying, and so what? It’s only a letter and not tons of them,”

And after that very statement of yours, you hold Yaku’s face in between your hand like a sandwich with a small smile on your face, “But honestly, Yaku can get more love letters than you, I mean look at him, isn’t he handsome?”

Yaku blushed at that, slowly gripping your wrist and pushing your hands away from his face, “Hey, don’t do that, it hurts,” “Oops, sorry Mr. Handsome,” “Seriously, what’s with you and giving random nicknames?” “But that’s not random? I genuinely think you’re handsome, Mori,”

His blush deepened as he lightly hit your head, “J-just shut up,” “Ow! Fine fine, yeesh,”

Kuroo just stays quiet, staring at you two acting...oddly lovely with each other from his seat. He wanted to punch Yaku so bad but he can’t, he knows he can’t. But it doesn’t matter, cause you like him right? He’s sure of that, it’s just like a frenemies to lover trope.

He coughed, taking back both of your attention, “But I don't really see him receiving any, didn’t he? Then, I guess I’ll just keep being Mr. Popular, or even Mr. Handsome,” Yaku cringed while you snorted,

“You? Who in the world would even think that? You’re ugly, ugly baby, maybe that girl’s delusional or something,” “As if you’re anywhere pretty, and who’s even getting a love letter right now? I bet you’re jealous that you got none,”

You sighed, resting your head onto the palm of your hand, “Sadly, I guess no one noticed my beauty, “ Kuroo chuckled, “But serious talk here,”

That caught both Kuroo and Yaku attention as you continue, eyes looking down on your finger hitting the desk, “I don’t really mind getting a love letter from someone, whether it’s a prank or whatever, I think it’s neat,”

You look up at both of them, a small smile decorating your face, “ It makes me feel special,”

Kuroo could feel his heart beating faster, cheeks burning up at nothing but those simple words. It’s funny how the love letter in his hand doesn’t give him any reactions at all, but your mere words does,

“Stop saying it in that tone, you’re making me feel bad,” “Pfft, I don’t need your pity,” “Oh really~? Maybe I’ll write a letter for you to make you feel better then,” “Ugh, no thanks, Mount Fuji hair,” “Yeah, I- OI! SERIOUSLY, STOP WITH THE NICKNAME,”

You and Kuroo kept on arguing with each other, spitting profanities and so on. Yaku can just sigh, shaking his head and watching you two with a small smile.

“I’m going home now!”

Grabbing his bag, Yaku waved his hand as he walked towards the gym door, “Okay, stay safe!” Kai said, waving back at him, Kuroo joined his side, “I hope you don’t get chased again by those dogs,” “SHUT UP MOUNT FUJI HAIR!”

And with one last glare at the ravenette, Yaku stormed out from the gym after accidentally being reminded by that horrible and embarrassing memory,

“Mount Fuji hair?” Kai looked at Kuroo with a confused look, “Ah, It’s a new nickname [y/n] gave me, it’s stupid to be honestly,”

Kuroo explained, scratching the back of his head as he followed Kai to grab a broom and clean the gym.

Behind them are the 2nd years helping to clean the gym. Kenma sitting on the floor while rejecting Yamamoto’s request to put down the net with him and Fukunaga’s just watching them from a distance, sweeping the floor while snickering to himself,

“Kuroo, I hope you’re planning on confessing to [y/n], because you’re delaying a lot of time,” Kuroo pursed his lips, sweeping the floor a few meters away from Kai, “Nah, I think after a few more days then I can confess to them,”

And from that, Kai stopped sweeping as it caught Kuroo’s attention. Kuroo looks at him, his eyes show nothing but urgency. And somehow pity,

“I’m serious right now, Kuroo. You’ve what? Said that 3 times already and you still haven’t done anything. And…”

He stopped, sighing quietly before continuing, “...If you don’t take actions right this instant, [y/n]’s gonna be sweeped away by someone else,” Kuroo’s eyes went wide at that, “You...you don’t mean,”

“[y/n]’s going to be confessed by someone else today, at this time. I’ve heard it from a friend of mine,”

The broom in his hand falls down, echoing through the now empty gym and catching the attention of the 2nd years, looking at Kuroo with confusion. The male isn’t doing any better, he’s visibly shaking but he can’t move or do anything.

But then, his instincts started kicking in as his legs made the first move. He slammed open the gym door and started running towards the place he would think you would be at. Kai watching him with pity lacing his expression, taking the broom from the ground,

“I’m so sorry, Kuroo,”

‘I’m going to confess to [y/n] today and give them a letter because you know that I can’t tell everything inside my mind when they’re in front of me, they’re too pretty and it makes me nervous y’know. Oh, and also, keep this a secret from Kuroo, okay?’

His mind is going everywhere, his thighs burning from the amount of running he did from the gym all the way to the hallway of the first class. Kuroo has no idea where he’s heading to whatsoever but at the same time, he knows where it is.

The world around him started spinning as a pain shot to his head but he paid it no mind as he huffed, beads of sweat falling from his face and covering his cheeks.

And suddenly he stopped.

Kuroo watches from a distance, chest rising up and down. He can’t feel anything right now, he can’t hear anything. But the pain is still visibly there when he watches Yaku handing you a letter.

Your eyes went wide as you bowed to Yaku and took the letter from him. He can’t hear what they’re talking about, but whatever it’s about really makes you happy huh? And before he could process anything after that, you two kissed.

It was just a few seconds but it felt like an eternity to Kuroo. The way your lips touch Yaku’s, and not his. God, he dreamed of feeling it against him but now, he doesn't even have the chance to taste it.

Now, he’s thinking back to what Kai had said. Why did he wait to confess to you? The answer is quite simple,

Because he’s afraid. He’s afraid of rejection, he’s afraid that it’ll ruin the relationship you have with him now, he’s afraid of showing his vulnerability to you. It’s a simple task but a hard execution, and now Kuroo can’t do it anymore. Not now, not then.

Yes, he regretted not doing it earlier but it’s even more painful that he has to watch both of his friends fall in love with each other without him noticing. Actually, no, he did notice it.

Kuroo did notice how Yaku look at you, it’s also the way Kuroo looks at you too. But he didn't mind it because he can’t face the reality. That you like Yaku better than him.

So, he had to live in a fantasy world where you fall in love with him instead. How funny. A part of him wanted to stop it, just stop the painful visual that he had to watch, maybe that’ll be an interesting twist to the story.

But he didn’t, because he’s still scared.

And before Kuroo even knew it, you two are gone now. Probably going on a quick date or something. He weakly leaned against the wall, slowly falling down to his knees as he covered his face with his hands.

A few sniffles came out from him as he choked on his tears, each droplet falling down to the ground and soaking his sweaty hands. And now, he knows why Yaku asked to go home early today,

Kuroo hiccupped, a small smile appearing on his face as he laughed quietly to himself, “It’s okay, they’re a cute couple anyway. You’re strong, and you can find...better,”

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. And now, it’s only Kuroo left.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst

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hopeshoodie · 3 years ago

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Ok so in light of the Independent article (see my tag #fusebox layoffs for more info), I’ve been trying to piece together the sequence of events that lead to FB Going to Shit™.

All of the below is based on articles, tweets from the staff, and dates from screenshots. Especially with the Matchmaker stuff, I’m using the dates I personally accessed the stories- that might not be accurate to when they were actually released to an international audience, just when my phone updated the app. In hindsight, I’m not a great person to do this because I have a shit memory and don’t keep receipts, so if you have any corrections PLEASE lmk either in the dms or replies.

In sum, the timeline appears to be:

1. Key players left Fusebox in early 2020.

The one that people are probably most familiar with is David Gallopim, one of the artists who helped define the S2’s distinct style, leaving sometime before March 2020. He seemed to indicate that there was conflict over the new art style of S3, and released assets he’d designed of Harry in his own style (notably way prettier than Harry looks in-game).

But probably more important to the direction of the company, Michael Othen, one of the co-founders and former CEO, left in July of 2020 (I had thought it was earlier in the year but according to LinkedIn it was July). It’s much more unclear why he left, but it’s notable because he was a huge force in making the game inclusive of LGBTQ characters.

So all in all, not a great sign when employees who had a huge hand in creating the content and direction of a game that defined its success jump ship. Especially after the game was seemingly hitting its stride, with the host of Love Island (the TV show) doing a sponsored Let’s Play of S3 and projects in the works like Boat Party and CMM.

2. It seems like Fusebox‘s CEO/executives hired new management, either in 2020 or early 2021. Employees complain that the executives don’t understand what it takes to make a game and are pulling the studio in the wrong direction. It’s unclear if the newly hired execs had experience.

Wil Stephens, the CEO/founder, has been with FB since its inception but also appears to have only founded game distribution ventures and not worked in any development or employment capacity. If that’s the case, maybe the complaints about lack of experience/knowledge about the mechanics of making games work are about him. If not, then some of the newly hired execs would likely be to blame.

Paul Virapen, COO, was brought on in November of 2020. He’s worked with Disney’s gaming division, Big Pixel studios, Wooga. The quality of that experience is dubious since he headed up the ‘let’s make apps for Apple watches, it’ll be the next big thing’ department… Lol. Notably also, all of his roles had been in the executive/managerial realm, not the development teams, so the complains might have been about him. THIS IS SPECULATION, but I’m willing to bet that Virapen was a if not THE driving force in switching Fusebox’s focus entirely to matchmaker. All the studios he’s worked with have primarily produced and promoted Match 3 games, and he has a background working with big studios that produce games for large international audiences, not small studios making narrative games for limited audiences.

A new Manager of Finances, Ruth Erskine, was brought on in December of 2020

Rob Goddard, a new producer, was brought in January of 2021

Several key operations positions were filled by existing employees being promoted to management- 2 as far as I can tell. But as a whole it seems like December 2020 was a huge shift in leadership for the upper management while a lot of the other teams expanded but kept their old players as well.

3. At some point in late 2020- mid 2021, the executive team made the decision to switch LITG’s focus from a narrative pass-based game to a Match 3 incorporating romance narrative cut scenes. In early 2021, Fusebox teased more content to come while releasing S3 (seemingly referring to Matchmaker and not S4). In the interim between S3 endings and Boat Party’s release they put out an interview confirming the new game will be Match 3 but did seem to indicate that the plan at that time was for Matchmaker to be a side project with a different development team and not replace the main game. Notably, the LITG writers and artists were reassured that their roles will continue to exist (according to the independent article) as they’re working on S4.

3. In September of 2020, Matchmaker became briefly available in the US. That’s when I first downloaded it, at least. It would be added/removed from the google play store multiple times before having a unilateral release in July of 2021.

Throughout 2020, Matchmaker is available to Asian audiences solely with LITG S1 getting rolled out in incremental updates.

Eventually, Beanie Quinn is released (March 2021)

LA Noir is released (May 2021)

Seduction Games is released (late May or June 2021- I got the update and played it June 3rd, but hadn’t opened the app for a month or so. It might have come out before then, which is unfortunate for this timeline since it’s so inextricably linked to the open letter and layoff dates)

LITG S2 is released (only like 20 levels of it) the same month- June 19th for me. Notably, all of these stories are only released to an international audience, with the UK and USA still not having access to the app.

4. At the same time, Fusebox’s internal affairs are pretty quiet from 2020-2021, at least on social media.

S3 comes out in 2020, Boat Party comes out later in the year and finishes in 2021. Post S3 in October of 2021, a survey goes out gauging player interest in new art styles and representation, which was pretty in keeping with past actions and seemed promising for S4.

Boat Party features a promising cross promotion implementing irl brands into the game. It’s unclear if enough money was made from this on FB or the sponsor’s end to make that strategy viable, but that might’ve impacted management’s outlook for the profitability of LITG.

Fusebox teases more content for the summer on Instagram, and then follows up and confirms it’ll be a proper season.

5. More key players leave in early 2021

Ed Sibley is still listed as Narrative Direction on LinkedIn, but he’s not credited as a writer on Season 4 (he was on 3,2,and 1) and started work with NetSpeak games in May of 2021, so we can assume he left around then or at least transitioned away from Fusebox then.

Fred Francis, another writer who had been on the team since S1, turns in his resignation ‘weeks’ before the layoffs were announced in late June. So we can assume he made his exit sometime early June or late May.

6. Prior to the release of Seduction games in May/June, staff expressed concern about the biphobia in Seduction Games. No sources have given a specific time when this took place. They were reassured that the problem would be corrected prior to release, but then the story was released as is to an international audience in June. The article released by the Independent is unclear- there might have been discussion prior to the open letter where staff expressed concerns and then were reassured before the game going live. OR the open letter might have been the first expression of concern by the staff. I tend to think the former, and the open letter was a response to Matchmaker going live with Seduction Games anyways, but I have no proof for that. On May 24th, 31 employees sent an open letter of concern regarding the problematic content in Matchmaker. This letter isn’t public, so we don’t know the scope of the employees' concerns or who the employees were.

7. To resolve the situation, a meeting between the staff and at least the COO (likely more than just him though) was held sometime after May 24th. Allegedly, Virapen was disrespectful to the employees who had questions, refused to answer, and ended the meeting early before any resolution was had by closing his laptop and leaving the room. At least 4 HR complaints were made in the wake of that meeting, we do not know the nature of those complaints.

8. Some time mid-July (maybe July 26th? A writer tweeted about their job ending soon on that date), employees were made aware that the LITG app would move into ‘sunset mode’. It’s unclear what was communicated, but it seems as though S4 will be heavily delayed or cancelled altogether and no future seasons would be made. Writers begin to post about looking for work on Twitter

9. June 30th- The majority of Fusebox writing staff announce on twitter they’re out of work. In addition to the entire writing staff, unity engineers and producers are also let go.

10. July 5th - Fusebox executives respond to an article by MCVUK with a statement asserting they were “consulting with [their] employees on a proposed change to its business model” that would focus on producing Matchmaker content. They also expounded that the move was to secure “cash injections and and continued support from respected investors across the media and gaming industry”

11. July 6th- Fusebox announces that S4 will be delayed from the summer release date and that there is no fixed release date.

12. August 2nd- three jobs are posted to Fusebox’s careers page on their website, one being Head of Narrative Content. In the job listing, it specifies that they’ll be maintaining existing properties as well as new ones, and that because of the co-development model (re:fusebox outsourcing Matchmaker to another studio) the new Narrative Lead must collaborate with external content creators.

Hopefully posting this timeline gives players a better understanding of how radically Fusebox has changed in the course of 2021 (and how royally they screwed over the people who made LITG what it is). Again, please let me know if you have receipts showing dates are different or things to add.

#fusebox layoffs #fusebox games

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago

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my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam

summary: second part to the andy barber sugar daddy fic

warnings: smut, choking, hair pulling. that sugar daddy shit. angst, someone else asked for angst so blame them for this really

word count: around 10,160

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: part 1 x imagine, halloween with andy barber. i could die. anyway, i was him from the power puff girls this year, what were you guys?

Andy wasn’t your boyfriend.

You may have been the younger one in the relationship, but that didn’t mean you were naïve or delusional. If there was anything traditional that he was, it would be a friend. Yes, you guys had sex—disgusting sex that you couldn’t tell your other friends about without feeling like you were blushing from your head all the way down to your toes—but it was more than that.

It wasn’t romance, it couldn’t be. So, it had to be friendship. Trust, communication, common interests—ignore the physicality. So, yes, you would call Andy your friend and you hoped he felt the same.

You guys talked. A lot. He’d grown comfortable enough with you that he would text you if he couldn’t sleep, and if you were awake, you called him. It had been happening for a few months and you found that you loved these conversations. You loved all time spent with Andy, but these were special. You loved it when you were curled up in bed, listening to his deep voice get just a little deeper, heavy with exhaustion that he couldn’t satisfy with sleep.

These were the times when he let you in more than he probably should have.

Two nights prior, he’d called without texting. He’d woken you up, so you figured it was important, and it wasn’t like you truly minded. You’d made the decision to finish your last year of school online, to make yourself more available for one Andrew Barber, an insatiable lawyer that always made your toes curl. It simply wasn’t a point of stress for you.

He told you that he was going to have lunch with Laurie. They were arguing about where Jacob would go after he finished high school. Laurie wanted to get out of Massachusetts, move to Oregon where she had some family. You knew Andy intended to die in Massachusetts; he loved his home and he didn’t want to leave it for anything. It was quite the situation. Honestly, he just needed to talk to someone, and you were happy that he let you be there for him. Even though you knew you couldn’t help, not really.

He was terrified of losing Jacob, and it was coupled with this bitterness that came from knowing that if he was still married, this wouldn’t be a conversation at all. But it was a conversation, and that was a point of stress for you.

If Jacob did decide to go, you were afraid of how Andy would take it. You were scared that it would change everything about him. You didn’t say any of that, though. Instead, you were there to be unwaveringly supportive—Jacob would never! He loves you! He loves this place! But you honestly had no fucking idea what Jacob felt—you’d said maybe twenty words to him the entire time you’d known Andy.

So, come the day that they were set to meet, you were a nervous fucking wreck. You’d been trying and failing to calm yourself with Netflix and cookies. When Andy texted you, you swore you were going to have a heart attack.

Instead of news, he informed you that your history textbook was in his office. Again. It was never a big deal when you left things over there because you were over there often, but this wasn’t just any normal day, was it? You had an idea and you couldn’t let it go. You’d typed out the text seven times and erased it six.

I need it. I’ll be over in a minute.

Are you sure? I could drop it off later.

Need it now. Essay due soon.

I could send a car for you.

Andy.

Okay, sorry. I’ll see you soon.

Still, he didn’t like making you drive. You pretended that it was a tad annoying, but fuck no, it was not. Your life without having to drive was nearly limitless. Running late and still haven’t done your makeup? Do it in the car! Wasted time with Andy before a huge deadline and every minute counts? Homework in the car!

You put on a matching pink lace set, and a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt over it. You didn’t bother with makeup or brushing your hair—you just wanted to see him. It had been three entire days since you’d last seen him in person and nine since you’d been at the Barber house—it was due to a case, of course.

You found him waiting on the porch for you. You jumped into his arms because you wanted him to know that you weren’t liking all this distance. He held you so tight that you thought he might not let you go.

He kissed your head. “I know it’s been a while, baby.”

You pulled away, arching an eyebrow. “It’s been three days since you fucked me.”

Smirking, he glanced at the phone in his hand. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Why, not at all,” you argued, feigning innocence. “I’m here for my history textbook, I told you that I needed to write an essay. It’s due Friday.”

He nodded. “Then you don’t want distractions.”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “That would probably be for the best…but I could be convinced otherwise, if you had something in mind.”

With another smirk that was so Andy, he confidently reached down and pulled you up by your thighs. You instantly wrapped yourself around him, basking in him carrying you inside his home to his bedroom.

He set you against the door as soon as he closed it. Your shirt was gone before you could blink, and his mouth was all over your neck and shoulder. You shuddered, surprised by how much you had missed his beard. He leaned down and your bra was the next to go, his mouth claiming one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him there as your back arched for the door. “Daddy, that feels good.”

He switched to the next and his hands began working your pants out of the way. He pulled them from your skin slowly, fingers lingering at your hip bones for a moment, and you had to suppress your shiver. He shoved the denim down and got on his knees before you, his gorgeous blue eyes looking up at you.

Shit. You were sure you looked wrecked and bewildered as you stared down at him where he was sitting on his heels, hands clasped around your hips, mouth waiting to taste you. You leaned down to touch his face, kiss his forehead, over his nose, his cheeks. “Daddy, please, I need to feel your tongue inside me.”

“Against the door,” he ordered. “Hands at your sides, now.”

You obeyed quickly, legs rubbing together at the dark tone he was using with you. You weren’t sure but you liked to tell yourself that tone was reserved for you. You could never ask, of course. You just had to delude yourself into believing whatever reality was best for you.

His fingertips slid down, lace panties getting caught along the way. As soon as your pussy was exposed to him, his mouth was on you. He kissed you all over, small teasing touches that you couldn’t get enough of because they were so completely Andy. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and he stared back and made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want you looking away.

The tip of his tongue slipped inside your entrance and you shook. He knew how to eat your pussy, but he was a man who didn’t like wasting time. More often than not, you missed out on that blissful feeling of his tongue inside you, in favor of focusing all his attention on your clit. You had no complaints, but you would die to feel his tongue like this.

You hissed, “daddy, fuck.”

He pulled his tongue out to lick over your clit several times, but he soon returned to dipping in a little—just to taste you, just to keep you frustrated. You shook and spasmed against the door pathetically, trying to keep your gaze on him the entire time.

He pulled back only to tell you, “grab my hair and ride my face, princess.”

You somehow managed to peel yourself off the door to oblige. Your fingers locked onto his hair tight because that was your only source of support. Your hips rolled slowly at first, clit brushing his tongue, but mostly just his beard. By the time you had found your footing, your body moved without any instruction from your brain. You did exactly as he asked, you rode his face, you used him. The noises he made, the ones that vibrated against you, were an indicator of how much he enjoyed it.

When he knew you were close, he took hold of your hips and shoved you into the door. It was his turn to take over and he did so enthusiastically. He rose onto his knees, lips sucking your clit mercilessly through all your screaming and pleading. As soon as one of his hands disappeared from your hip and he pressed his fingers inside you, you were coming.

He didn’t let you down easy. No, instead he told you to hold your arms against the door, over your head. Once you had listened, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and continued letting his tongue run through your sensitive pussy. Your body jerked with aftershocks and he didn’t care, he watched you with eyes that told you he had zero sympathy. He wanted another orgasm out of you and he was going to get it, no matter what.

It was rough, he built you up so high, he wound you so tight. Mere moments later, you crashed, snapped. You were shaking, whimpering, crying out for him. His attention never left you, eyes eagerly eating up every expression that crossed your face, repeating the touches that made your mouth drop or your teeth pull at your lip.

He pulled your legs onto the floor carefully, standing hurriedly to catch you. There was no way that you could stand on your own. You were the one that turned away, falling against the door for support, still a little fuzzy and a lot satisfied.

He set himself against you, arms around your waist, and you pressed your ass back, teasing his erection over his pants. “Baby…”

“Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

He hummed shortly, unsure. His hand was spread out, flat to your stomach, one of those little reminders to how big he was, how strong. He pulled you back a little harder and you rolled your ass like a good girl. He sighed gently, turning his head to kiss the side of your face.

“Please, fuck me.”

“You want daddy’s cock?”

“I need your cock, daddy,” you corrected. “Fuck me hard, make it hurt. Stretch me out, use me, use my cunt, fill me up with your cum, daddy, please. Three days is too long.”

He growled, “God damn it.” He kept a good hold on you even as he was pulling his pants out of the way. After some shifting, he used one hand to spread your pussy and you shivered when you felt the head of his cock touching you, sliding through until his shaft was flush against you. His thrusts were hard, a promise of what was to come, his hips crashing against your ass, the tip teasing and pushing and spreading the arousal that was still dripping from your cunt.

He pressed in, you felt every second of the tip of his cock stretching you out, he was so slow about it. Then, he pulled out and went back to running his length up and down your slit.

“Daddy,” you muttered. “Please, daddy.”

He grabbed your ass, pinching until you yelped. “Be patient.”

“I’ve been patient,” you felt inclined to remind. More than patient. Three days? Three god damn days? How had you not gone insane?

“Keep talking back,” he challenged. “I’ll make you wait longer.”

That was the last thing you wanted and the last thing he needed. He needed you, you had the great honor of being the body Andy was going to use to forget his problems for a moment or two.

“Did you say something?” he pressed.

You refrained from huffing about it, but you did roll your eyes. “I said I’m sorry, daddy.”

Once more, his cock pushed into you. It was a bit more than before, but not nearly enough, not even half his length. He pulled out once again and resumed that tortuous teasing of letting you feel the shaft of his cock sliding over and over.

“Daddy,” you whined. “We don’t have time for you to do that.” He had an impressively long cock, if he were going to give you a little more each time, it would take the entire night.

He scoffed. “You’re not wrong…but I haven’t made you wait for it in so long. I’ve been spoiling the hell out of you. That’s why you’re here, distracting me when I need to be focused.”

“Make me wait tonight,” you bargained. “Right now, you need to fuck me. Don’t you wanna feel me coming on your cock, daddy?”

He took your hands, pulled your arms up completely and pressed them flat against the door. “Keep them there.”

“Yes, daddy.” Your body was pressed flat until he grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him. Your back was bent at an uncomfortable angle but the noise he made at the sight of you was sufficient consolation.

He felt over your ass before he pushed it up until you were just on your toes. You knew your calves would be sore for days after he was through with you.

His tip pressed against you again, slowly sliding into your pussy. Given how close your legs were, it created a tight fit that had both of you making a lot of noise. As his hips sat flush against your ass, he took his hands and let them roam, forcing them between you and the door to squeeze your breasts painfully. He felt your pussy clench when he pinched your nipple, so he did it with the other and kept doing it as he began to fuck you.

It was slow but so hard, so angry, frustrated, desperate, scared. Everything that had been on his mind for the past few days, those things that stopped him from spending time with you, he was trying to fuck all of it out of his mind.

The door was moving with you, something you felt more than heard over all the noise you were making. Your nails pressed against the door painfully, but you couldn’t make yourself stop. You were so close and he was too, you could tell when his hips began to move erratically.

“Is daddy making you feel good, princess?”

“So good, daddy,” you promised breathlessly. “I’m close—”

“Just wait a second, baby. Be a good girl and wait for daddy.”

You whimpered, knowing in seconds you were going to be filled up with his cum. You were going to get to drive home with it dripping out of your cunt. Each time he thrust back in, he hit that spot deep inside you, the one that made your body spasm, the very one that made you see stars.

He pulled out so suddenly and turned you to face him before you could voice your complaint. He picked you up without warning, simply pressed you flat to the door, set his body so deliciously close to yours, buried his head in the bend of your neck, and started fucking you again. He was grunting into your skin, holding you tight enough that you would bruise.

All you could do was cling to him, a stupid, weak attempt to keep him there forever. You didn’t want to have to leave, you didn’t want him to have with Laurie, you didn’t want him to be upset.

“Daddy,” you warned. You felt him nod gently.

“Come for me, baby girl.”

Only seconds later, you were tightening around him, hips stuttering as you tried to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing more. More sensations. More Andy. This triggered his release and soon, you were held against the door as he slowly, gently rolled his hips.

He kept you there for a long while, just breathing, thinking, silently standing together. You didn’t want to move, so you stayed still and quiet and waited for him to break it.

He kissed your collarbone. “Thank you.”

You ran your hand through his hair, sighing a tad shaky. “Don’t thank me.” As this continued, you knew you would need to instigate the separation. He had things to do, you had things to do. “Andy,” you said softly.

“I know,” he promised. “Just a little longer.”

You wouldn’t argue with that, couldn’t because he was perfect and you were obsessed with his skin, his body, everything about him. You would hold onto him for as long as he would let you.

You weren’t Andy’s girlfriend.

There were things you liked about that and then things you fucking hated. He hadn’t told you what happened, he hadn’t said a single word, and you weren’t allowed to ask. That much was clear. He canceled on you that night, told you he had a headache and when he heard the disappointment in your voice, he told you he wanted you to focus on your homework. He ended the call claiming that he would reward you later.

He might have rewarded you. Thrown some jewelry at you or something, but it didn’t feel the same this time. It didn’t matter at all because it shattered this illusion you had about the amount of trust you two shared. You hadn’t thought it was a large amount to begin with, so reality informing you that you were going overboard, it sucked.

He’d only let you pout about it for two weeks before he stopped indulging your bratty behavior—but those two weeks came after an entire week of not seeing him, so you felt justified. It started simple and he probably would have let you get away with it longer had you not continued to push it further and further.

You simply weren’t doing things that you were supposed to be doing. He wanted you to text him when you woke up and when you were turning in for the night. You stopped texting him in the morning after the fourth consecutive morning text that he didn’t directly respond to. You hadn’t noticed it, honestly. Normally, you would text him something along the lines of ‘good morning’ and he would respond almost immediately. Unless he was busy, so you hadn’t been too caught off guard when it happened the first three times. He’d texted you later in the day, just to make sure you were okay, but nothing beyond that.

So, the fourth text didn’t say good morning. It said ‘I miss you. How have you been?’ And he didn’t respond again. He texted four hours later and told you that he was just given a case that was a big deal. That didn’t seem odd. He always told you which cases he got, which cases he wanted and were hoping for if another DA was taken off.

The next morning, when you were about to text him, you didn’t like the feeling in your stomach. You didn’t like that it felt like that was him telling you that he was going to need more space. Fine—he could have space. You were an adult and you could take him needing space, he should have just come right out and said it. You hated that he was treating you like an overly emotional child who couldn’t be told the truth. So, you didn’t text him.

But you were too scared not to tell him when you were going to bed, not until the sixth day. He sent you a bag. A fucking bag. He thought that was a sufficient apology for pushing you away. He ended up calling you at two in the morning and you just let it ring. You sat there, watching, not at all itching to answer. Though, you did want to hear his voice.

You had decided to deal with it in the morning. He called twice more, and you knew that if he had called just once more, you would have answered. You didn’t like how you were feeling. You didn’t like how the bag made you feel, how the secrecy made you feel, how you felt not taking his calls, not getting texts from him.

It was confusing, but also black and white. You knew why you were upset, but you were lost on what you were supposed to do. You were helpless, and you hated yourself for letting this become more than it was supposed to be. He was your fucking sugar daddy, why did you even care if you weren’t seeing him? He was still putting the money into your account. So, why did it matter?

Your solution was to act like not texting him wasn’t a big deal. You could tell he was concerned because you never did that, but you tried to brush it off. He told you it was, and as nice as Andy was, he let you know in very certain terms that it better not become a habit.

Meaning your tactics had to change. Your texts were cold, if you sent them at all—minus the obligatory morning and night messages that you decided were not going to be the hill you died on. It was like he had become aware of your existence again, he would text you throughout the day and ask how you were, ask what you were doing, ask if you needed anything. You responded about thirty percent of the time and the answers were all the same. You were fine. You were doing nothing, or maybe cleaning, maybe homework, maybe you were about to work out and you couldn’t talk. And no, you didn’t need anything.

That must have been hard for him to hear. He liked spoiling you, he liked showering you with expensive gifts, but the bag must have been the only hint he needed. He scaled way back, sent you flowers a few times, cupcakes here and there.

After three weeks of not seeing him, he called and said he wanted to take you to dinner. You didn’t entertain the idea of saying no. You were tired, you figured it would just cause something huge, so, you were going. He told you what to wear.

You didn’t. You wore what you wanted, or well, just the opposite, of what he told you to wear. He’d wanted to see you looking sweet and delicate because he truly missed that. He missed his sweet girl, blushing when he kissed you everywhere, or just clinging to him like you couldn’t get enough of him. You decided to wear black—a funeral was fast-approaching anyway, you assumed.

He took you home after dinner because you claimed you just didn’t feel well. You claimed you were stressed about school, that midterms were coming up and had a few things that you needed to spend a little extra time on. He didn’t argue, he just kissed the top of your head and waited until you were inside before driving off.

It was smaller things after that. Wear a jacket. Don’t wear those shoes, you know you can’t walk in them. Get some rest. Don’t eat chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. Anything he told you, you would proceed to do the opposite. Sometimes, you didn’t make it known to him. It was just you trying to regain some type of power that you were lacking.

You knew that this behavior had him completely baffled and to talk about it was an invitation to talk about everything. If you managed to ask him something before he asked you and he didn’t want to answer, that would set a tone that you could also withhold information from him as well. He knew he was tight rope walking with this, so he was going to continue without trying to solve anything until he had the full solution.

Which, apparently, came to him on a dreadful Sunday morning—the fourth Sunday, as a matter of fact, after you had gone to his house to fuck him all so he would feel less stressed; if you sounded bitter, good, you were.

He called—and woke you up—and you answered it because he never ever called in the mornings. “Hello?” You quickly sat up in search of another device that would tell you the time.

“Be ready in an hour.”

“What?” you sighed. There was no panic in his tone, so nothing bad was happening. In fact, he didn’t have that ‘we need to talk’ Andy tone either. “Why? Andy, I’m sleeping. Haven’t you been telling me to sleep more lately?”

“Changed my mind,” he explained. “An hour.”

“Andy,” you huffed, “I don’t feel well.”

“Are you sick?” His tone changed from that firm, non-compromising one he had been speaking to you with since you stopped behaving to an overly concerned one that made you heart ache just a little.

“No,” you blurted out. Because then he would come over and you didn’t want that. You didn’t want him picking and choosing aspects of this relationship. It was all or nothing. It was an equal arrangement meaning essentially just a relationship with the added, little rules he put in place for your continued income, or it was just a sugar baby, sugar daddy thing and he didn’t get to take care of you. Ever.

“Then what’s the problem?” he pressed.

“I…I’m just tired.”

“I’ll get you coffee.”

You weren’t getting out of this, not without a fight. And as much as you were backing away right now, you didn’t want him to leave you. You didn’t want a fight because you were sure that he would leave. For real and for good.

“Okay…what should I wear?”

“Something simple. We’ll be outside.”

“Eww.”

He scoffed. “Leave the attitude in your apartment, understood?”

You very much understood. You knew that he knew this was different, that was why he wasn’t reacting with sex. He knew something was up and you could either just drop this and let things go on or you could push and push until he broke and resolved the issue—the issue probably being you. “I understand.”

“Great, see you soon.”

Jeans, sweater, no makeup—he said simple. When he came up to your apartment, he was also dressed simple but looked a hell of a lot better than you. And he was wearing a white sweater, any fight you had left in you was right out the window.

He didn’t say anything, he just wrapped his arms around you and held you against him. He kissed the top of your head briefly before tucking you under his jaw. He was good at making you feel bad. You didn’t like being mean to him. You didn’t enjoy it, no matter how upset with him you were.

So, you apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You scoffed. “No, it’s not.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “But I am curious…”

“I just miss you sometimes,” you claimed. “And I try to create distance because I hate missing you. I guess I just don’t want to get used to seeing you every day, it’s hard to adjust when you’re busy.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He tightened his arms around you. “It’s my fault, there’s no excuse for not making time for you.”

“No, it’s fine. You have a family—”

“I have an ex-wife and a son that’s legally an adult.”

“You have a job.”

“I have you,” he insisted. “And you are so fucking beautiful. Anyone in this world would call me an idiot for not getting every second I possibly can with you.”

“Ugh,” you buried your face in his chest, “stop. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, right. Well…” He took your shoulders and pushed you away slightly. “I know you’re a little weird about spending time with me…when I’m with Jacob.”

“Andy,” you warned.

You must have looked so panicked because that man had the audacity to laugh. “Listen, you like Halloween, I like spending time with my son. Additionally, I like spending time with you and vice versa… In short, we’re going to a pumpkin patch.”

You slowly narrowed your eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“I don’t want to…force myself into his life, Andy.”

“I know. He knows. Trust me.”

“You promise he won’t be upset? You don’t have a lot of time and you spend most of it with me, I don’t want to take you away from him. Ever.”

“Baby, he’s eighteen. He doesn’t want time with me.”

You scoffed.

“I promise he will not be upset. I asked him almost fifty times just last night, in total, it’s probably three times that.”

The car ride wasn’t silent, but it was quiet. You didn’t talk much because Andy and Jacob were, all you did was watch the trees. You didn’t get out of town much and as beautiful as most parts of Massachusetts were during the fall, there was something particularly comforting about the areas outside.

Upon arriving, in mere minutes, you discovered how popular Andy was. He was stopped every few seconds by someone new, some people that you had seen around town, others that you had not. It was probably the seventh time when Jacob tapped your elbow with his and nodded you off to the side.

You followed mostly out of curiosity. Jacob was like his father in many ways. Particularly, you noticed that they were both…if you were being kind and not too blunt: detail-oriented. Because of this, Jacob needed to find the perfect pumpkin and he didn’t want to stand around while his dad was talking.

You tried to help but it was clear after a few suggestions that you were not as serious about this as Jacob. You’d only ever been to a pumpkin patch once before and you had been beyond drunk. “So…” you began after an extended amount of silence, “Last year of high school.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it…fun?”

He scoffed. “Fun?”

“I don’t know, man. I didn’t finish high school.”

“Really? My dad says you’re smart.”

“It just wasn’t for me,” you explained. High school sucked, the people sucked. College was way more in line with your interests—less rape culture, more educated discussion. That sort of deal. “Got my GED and then started college when I felt like it.”

“Oh… Well, it’s okay. Has its moments, I guess.”

“So, are you going to college?” You were not trying to be sneaky. You were just trying to talk to Jacob because it was clear that this was something that Andy felt was important. If you found out some information that had yet to be shared with you, fine. But that was not why you were talking to Jacob.

“I applied, I’m just not sure yet. My dad wants me to stay here.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, understatement.”

He smiled a little. “We could be going to the same school.”

You lifted your eyebrows at him.

He smirked. “Come on, that’s kind of funny.”

“It’s kind of weird.”

He laughed.

You glanced back to make sure Andy wasn’t lingering. He so would. “Look, I’m not asking you this because of your dad. I’m just nosy—do you want to go to Oregon? I mean, personally, I think there’s something wrong with anyone if they want to leave Massachusetts for Oregon!”

“Right?” he scoffed. “It’s insane… I’m sure I’ll stay. My whole life is here. Maybe it doesn’t need to be in Newton, but this is where I want to settle down, I think. Get married, have kids…my childhood was perfect. I just hate that my mom is going.”

“Right, yeah…that sucks. I’m sorry.” You pointed to a pumpkin and he gave you a pitiful look. “So…does your mom, like…know…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “About you?”

“Yeah…”

“A bit. I mean, she’s asked me some questions even though I didn’t bring it up to her. Questions I couldn’t answer because I don’t know anything about you…”

“Yeah…yeah, sorry, that’s my fault. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m kinda glad my dad is dating again. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen. But my mom dated, like, six months after the divorce was finalized, probably before that.”

You couldn’t imagine how much that had hurt Andy. You hated even thinking about it. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her, though.”

“Probably not. Some people get married because they just want to, but I think my parents thought they were going to be together forever.”

“Yeah, I get that feeling whenever he talks about it.”

“He likes you, though—”

“Oh, my god,” you blurted out. Now you were uncomfortable. “We do not need to talk about this.”

“I’m just saying, it’s cool and I’m not uncomfortable. And you didn’t hear this from me…but I think my dad is going to ask you to move in.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shrugged. “He’s being weird…I don’t know how to explain it.”

Okay, that was completely not happening. After all this time, him pushing you away, the absolute last thing he was going to suggest was that you live with him. No, no way, Jacob was mistaken. Maybe Andy had another sugar baby that Jacob was thinking about. That would make more sense than him asking you to move in.

Absolutely not.

Jacob found his perfect pumpkin and listen, you loved Halloween, but they all mostly looked the same. When he figured you had no “vision” when it came to this, he took the liberty of finding you the perfect one and then another for Andy. Since Andy was still being the most popular man in Massachusetts, that left you and Jacob carrying all three pumpkins to the car.

Your grand plan was to set the pumpkins on top of one another, he would hold one, you would hold another, and if you guys just stayed together close enough, you wouldn’t drop the one in the center. When Andy found you, you both had given up and were covered in dirt from having fallen several times. You were sat on the ground, facing one another, the pumpkins between you two as you spoke about favorite scary movies.

The drive back to the house consisted of Andy talking about his favorite horror films, most of which neither you nor Jacob had heard of. That was the setup for the movie nights that occurred nearly every night up until Halloween. Which you knew would make Andy possibly the happiest man in Massachusetts.

Spending time with Jacob wasn’t as scary as you had convinced yourself it would be. He seemed to like you a little, at least enough that he didn’t mind you dating his dad. He also seemed a lot more willing to share things than his father was, which you never took advantage of. Anything Jacob told you was unprompted and only in response to you sharing about your life after he’d asked you to.

Which was how you found out about…a lot. There was always this gap in Jacob’s life that Andy never spoke about. Ever. You’d realized it early on, maybe from years thirteen to sixteen. You had thought it was weird but of course, you weren’t going to bring it up. And still, you wouldn’t bring it up to him that you knew about some things he probably didn’t want you knowing about.

Andy knew how to spoil you during this season and not in the traditional way. It was probably a reward for getting along with Jacob so well, but when he told you that he was taking you to the Halloween store and that you could decorate his house, it was better than most things he’d given you.

Jacob was amused because apparently, they didn’t decorate for Halloween beyond a few pumpkins. So, all while lecturing Andy about the importance of decorating for Halloween and how the holiday was going to die out if people didn’t fucking decorate, you both made up the front yard. You insisted on spiders, everywhere, on the yard, on the house, in the trees. And against Andy’s strongest wishes, you wanted animatronics. There were creepy, laughing zombie-children and your absolute favorite, a doghouse with a dog that jumped out if motion was detected. Andy had forgotten that a couple of times…and would promptly glare at you after he was given the reminder.

But even though he pretended this was nothing, that this was just him indulging you, he was happy with how happy you were. It had been quite a while since he last saw you smiling or laughing, save for the few pictures of you he’d managed to take and liked to look at on days you gave him nothing of the sort.

On the night of Halloween, Jacob had plans. A party, Andy told you. You arrived when Jacob was leaving, and had no idea what his costume was supposed to be but you didn’t want to ask because you were sure he would just make a joke about how you were spending too much time with his old father.

Andy had long ago established one major rule. You weren’t allowed to text when you were with him. It wasn’t so much this weird thing where he was forbidding you from something you wanted, it was more that he was paying for your time and he wanted to be present. You didn’t think it was crossing a line, so often, you obliged.

Tonight, however, he was anything but present. He didn’t mind that your friends were filling you in on the party that you had to miss, he didn’t start any conversations, and most of your attempts were met with, if anything, short responses.

You were on the floor, sitting with your legs lengthened out under the coffee table. Andy was on the couch, staring at the television screen, or the wall maybe, but you could tell he wasn’t seeing anything. Well, there was one thing he wouldn’t miss from a mile away.

“Stop eating candy, you’re not going to want dinner when it gets here.”

That was = the most aware thing he’d said all night. You glanced at him as you sneakily tried to toss another bite-sized Snickers into your mouth without him noticing. He did notice and gave you one of his tired, lawyer looks.

Scream, that was your pick, and you were sure he hadn’t paid a single second of attention. That was just about enough for you. You set your phone on the table and crawled to Andy. He eyed you almost suspiciously as you grabbed onto his arm and used it to pull yourself onto the couch. You draped your back over his thighs. “Pay attention to me.”

He scoffed, brushing his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry I’m so distracted tonight. I’m just thinking about Jake.”

“More about Oregon?”

“No, not that. He’s just…on a date tonight. His first date, actually.”

You sat up, staring at Andy incredulously. “His first date? He’s eighteen!”

“Yeah…I don’t know, there just wasn’t a lot of time for it before. He was…pretty busy for a while.”

Right. You just nodded and settled back against the couch. All things considered, Jacob was a fairly normal kid. And Andy was a fairly normal dad, save for the part where he was around and liked his kid—but by perfect, television terms, he was fairly normal.

“What?”

You looked at him, shrugging. “Nothing, I’m just…surprised. I mean, he’s your son, so he’s perfect. He’s a complete sweetheart—”

He shrugged. “Girls that age aren’t interested in that.”

You snorted. “Oh, they aren’t?”

“You aren’t.”

“You are sweet.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m not a religious person, but sometimes, after the things I do to you, I’m sure hell has to exist. If only for men like me.”

“You’re sweet after,” you reminded.

He pulled you back down, setting your back to his legs again. He began touching your face, tracing your cheekbones, jawline, your lips. “I think I like taking care of you. A lot.”

You hummed. “Is that what this is? Jacob’s too old, so you’re coping with an empty nest by getting a sugar baby?”

“I guess.”

You laughed. “Most men just get a dog.”

He gave you a look. “You asking me for a dog?”

“No!” you scoffed. “Andy, don’t. You know if you tried to get me just one, you’d bring home an entire shelter.”

He took one of your hands and kissed over every knuckle. You couldn’t stop watching his lips, the way they pursed just slightly. “You know, we’ve almost been doing this for a year.”

Not entirely, but close. Very close. The holidays always went by so fast; you were going to blink and suddenly, it would just be here. But you hadn’t forgotten what Jacob had said, it was usually on your mind because you needed to be ready to stop him before he as much as mentioned it.

No, you didn’t suddenly believe Jacob, but you were terrified. You were constantly worried about losing Andy and this would be a guaranteed quick and messy end. It couldn’t happen. You scoffed. “A year? Soon enough you’re going to have to trade me in for someone younger.”

He smiled a little, it wasn’t sincere. He didn’t want that comment, he wanted something else. He wasn’t sure what, nor were you.

You sat up, averting your gaze to the screen. Neve Campbell was being chased by a murderer and you still would have traded spots with her in that moment. “A year’s not really that long.”

“Longer than most people with our…arrangement.”

“Yeah, probably.” It wasn’t like you would know. You didn’t have friends who did this, you didn’t do it before Andy. You just went in blindly, which you were now realizing, was stupid. You should have set more boundaries; you should have been more careful.

“You want out?”

Your head snapped back to him. “What?”

“I’m just asking.”

“No, I don’t.” You were irritated that he would suggest something like that. Had you done or said anything that would make him think that? You were sure the answer was no. Because that was the last thing you wanted.

When it came down to it, what you wanted was this. Exactly this. You wanted to stay. Right in this spot, right in this date, right in this dynamic. If nothing ever moved, you were sure that you and Andy could be just fine forever. But soon, time was going to take its toll on the two of you.

“Do you?” you pressed.

“No,” he promised. “Not even a little.”

You turned away again, crossing your legs and turning just slightly away from Andy.

“Hey.”

You were so done with this night; it was not turning out at all like you’d hoped it would. It was Halloween—why all the emotional bullshit?! Couldn’t you both just sit down and watch a fucking movie?

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to him again.

“I don’t,” he insisted. “You are so god damn beautiful. I would be out of my mind if I wanted out. You know how I feel about you…and if you don’t, if you need the reminder, let me know right now, I’ll show you.”

You shook your head, taking his arm to wrap it around your shoulders. You leaned into him, curling up in a ball and getting as close as you could. “I don’t need a reminder, just…don’t ask me that.”

“I just want to make sure I’m giving you everything you want.”

“I’ll let you know if I want out.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of your head.

You laid your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him. “Who’s Jacob out with?”

“Her name’s Sarah. She’s sweet…she’s been a really good friend to him over the past few years.”

You smiled. “Yeah, he mentioned her.”

He hummed. “Well, aren’t you two getting along quite well?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re least attractive when you’re so smug. Obviously, we’re getting along. Our star signs usually do.”

He smirked. “So, what else has he told you?”

“Does it matter?”

He shrugged. “I’m just wondering. You don’t want to tell me?”

“No, that’s not it…it just doesn’t matter, not really. It doesn’t change anything for me.”

Andy’s gaze moved forward, toward the TV once again but still not watching any of it. “He told you about the murder.”

“A little. Just…the basics. He didn’t know I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, it’s his right to talk about it. I’m sorry, I wasn’t keeping it from you, if you had asked me about it, I wouldn’t have lied.”

“Well, I never would have,” you admitted.

He looked at you. “You can.”

“It doesn’t matter, Andy.”

“I was scared, I guess. That you would have a different opinion than the court.”

“No,” you promised. Not possible—not with Jacob, not with Andy. “I trust you, Andy.”

He kissed your head again. “I know, I’m just paranoid. Believe it or not, though I’m not very good at it, I do want you to feel comfortable asking me about my life, including all the boring parts before you. I want you to feel like you can talk to me.”

You scoffed only because the reality of it made you feel awkward. “Okay…I do.” That was probably the first time you ever completely lied to him. You bent the truth sometimes, but never as much as this.

If he didn’t believe you, he didn’t say it. Instead, he just leaned into you and kissed your temple.

Okay, tension aside, you did miss him. You liked hanging out with Jacob, he was funny, and it always made Andy so happy, but wow, you missed him fucking you. To create boundaries, you rarely spent the night on movie nights, only when it reached AM hours and you knew Andy wasn’t going to let you drive home. But on those nights, you merely slept next to each other.

It had been a while. Something he was obviously feeling as well, proven by the hand sliding up your bare thigh.

“You ordered food,” you reminded. And yeah, you were just trying to play hard to get. You wore a skirt; you honestly hadn’t thought he would last this long without fucking you.

“Don’t care.” His hand continued but instead of touching you where you needed him to, he abruptly grabbed your hip and jerked you up so he could position you on your knees.

You pressed your hands to the arm of the couch, trying to quiet your breathing. Maybe this night could be salvaged.

Hands on your hips, he let them roam over your body as he pressed himself to your back. He kissed your face again before whispering, “What does my good girl want?”

“Your cock, daddy, please. Just fuck me.”

He hummed. “You don’t want me to take my time tonight—?”

“Please, no,” you whined. “It’s been too long, daddy.”

He reached down and you felt him shoving his pants down. “You remember what you did last week?”

So…you might have been feeling particularly bratty one night. You’d ended up heading to bed before Andy because he had some emails he needed to respond to before the weekend. In waiting for him, you got bored. You stripped completely naked, got yourself off, and then went to bed. You knew damn well he was going to be able to smell it when he walked in, and it wasn’t like you tried to hide that you were naked. Then, you were gone before he woke up to punish you for it. You hadn’t spent the night since then, intentionally, of course, and he knew it.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t remember.”

He scoffed. “You don’t remember trying to tease me?”

“I don’t remember that,” you insisted. “I would never try to tease you, daddy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, an exhausted sound because if there was anything that you were down for at any given moment of the day, it was teasing Andy.

You turned over your shoulder, looking at him with the most innocent eyes. “If I did, I’m sorry.”

For a split second, it looked like he wanted to believe you, that he wanted to believe that you were as innocent as you looked. Then you smirked and he remembered that there was not an ounce of innocence in you. Rolling his eyes, he delivered a half-hearted smack to your ass.

You yelped in surprise, turning forward again to make sure you had a solid hold on the couch.

“You’re lucky I ordered food, or I would spank you until that apology was sincere.”

Oh, you could stop while you were ahead, but… “Daddy, if you ever spank me and I apologize, it’s not sincere. I just want you to fuck me.”

He was silent for a long time, probably shocked by your boldness. “Baby girl…”

His tone was full of warning, you should have been scared, but… You bit your lip to stifle your laugh.

“Baby,” he tried again, sounding just about completely fed up with your shit. He set both hands on your ass and you startled, that was when he knew you were just playing with him. You knew who was in charge and it was not you, not when you were here. “You’re not going to be able to walk after I’m done with you.”

Anything you wanted to say was instantly forgotten when he pressed his fingers to your core. You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into the couch.

He started to run his fingers in soft, agonizingly slow circles around your clit. He didn’t say a word as he coaxed you toward your first finish of the night, not until you were almost. “You gonna come, baby?”

You hummed unintelligibly. “Yes, Daddy.”

Instead of letting you, he pulled his hand away and folded his body over yours. You could feel his cock against your leg, so deliciously hard. He circled his arm around you, sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

He took no time before he shoved them in too deep, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged but he continued to press his fingers in more, more, more, until you were choking around them. “I love that sound, baby girl.”

He kept his fingers down your throat as he started to press his cock into you. You eagerly spread your legs as wide as the couch would allow, silently pleading for more. Slowly, he fed you his cock by the inch, you were shivering, high and mindless. It was when his hips were flush against yours that your arms gave out.

This angle was new, a new sensation, a new stretch. You had missed Andy, his touch, the looks he gave you when he fucked you, the looks he gave when you had your mouth or hand around him. But that ache you felt between your legs long after he pulled out, that was one of your favorite things, one of the only things that could comfort you when your mind wouldn’t stop overanalyzing every little thing about Andy.

You pressed the side of your face to the arm of the couch and he began thrusting hard. His free arm curled around your hip, fingers seeking out your clit. You were instantly back at that high, wound-up place, body screaming for an orgasm. His fingers slipped over your skin clumsily because of how wet you were, but well enough that your body was arching and your eyes were rolling back.

You only knew Andy was close because he pulled his hand from your pussy and grabbed a handful of your hair. He yanked you back until you were standing on your knees, your back to his chest. You cried out for him, a sound muffled by his fingers still sliding back and forth along your tongue.

“Touch your clit, princess,” he directed, voice so soft and so quiet.

Your hand shot to your cunt, messy swipes around your most sensitive skin. His cock was pounding into you, hard enough that you could barely keep your hand pressed to where you needed it.

When he hit that blissful spot, made the bright spots appear behind your eyes, you started to suck on his fingers. You did whatever you could to stifle the pathetic moans and pleas that would be falling from your lips if your mouth weren’t so preoccupied.

The noises of him pushing and pulling, his cock driving up as deep as possible, filled the room. You hummed around his fingers, he pressed his mouth to your shoulder and groaned. You were both so close, so painfully wound up and eager to come.

Once you tightened around him, it triggered his finish. Though he moved erratically, he never stopped, even as he began to sit back down and brought you with him. His thrust turned slow, almost soft as he pulled his fingers from between your lips.

You thought he would undress you, finally lay you down and take his time—but no, of course not. He let you sit on his lap, but one thing was clear, his cock was going to stay inside you until he wanted.

He gabbed your jaw and turned your head back to him, lips sweetly pressing against yours. There was no urgency in his movements—he kissed and touched you slowly, like he had all the time in the world for it.

You were confused why he kept you there, at least until the doorbell rang. Then, it became clear what he wanted from you. He got you onto your feet with both hands on your hips, enjoying the way his cum was already spilling out of your pussy.

“Go answer the door, baby.”

You gave him a wide-eyed look. No, no way.

He nodded. “Get the door, gorgeous, I’m not going to tell you again.”

You were humiliated as you walked to the door on shaky legs. The man delivering your pizza probably had no idea why you were so red and why you sounded like you just ran a mile, but it was still mortifying. With each second ticking by, you could feel his cum dripping onto your thighs.

You couldn’t sleep.

After Andy fucked you, generally, you slept like a baby. This time, your mind was too busy despite your body being utterly exhausted.

It was raining, you could hear the steady patter on the roof of the house and the porch by Andy’s bedroom. He had suspected it would so he brought in the animatronics because he knew how upset you would be if they got damaged. You liked that about him, that he was so practical. You never would have thought to do it yourself.

You went to the kitchen first, just to get some water and more candy without Andy’s judgmental gaze. You checked the driveway to see if his car was back, he’d let Jacob borrow it. You didn’t understand how Jacob was so well-behaved—he was 18, yet still had a curfew. Those Barber men were a different breed.

The moon was out, shining bright enough that you could see most of the backyard. You sat on the floor in the doorway of the back, listening to the sound of the rain. It was comforting enough that your brain finally stopped moving. For a moment, your relationship wasn’t so scary, you didn’t feel like everything was about to go wrong. The rain was falling heavily, once it hit the pavement, it splashed back onto your skin.

Andy found you after almost an hour, immediately fussing about what you were doing. “Baby, you’re going to get sick.” He wrapped a blanket around you and closed the door. “What are you doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He sat down next to you, leaning close to adjust the blanket around your shoulders. “Everything okay?”

No, not really. This had been coming for a long time and there was no reason why it shouldn’t happen tonight. “Everything’s fine… I’m just wondering, what happened with Laurie?”

He was quiet for a long time, contemplating something. “Well, I’m pretty sure that Jacob wants to stay—”

“Yeah, obviously. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know until recently.”

“Okay, then why didn’t you tell me that? That’s what the attitude was about, Andy. It wasn’t only that I missed you. It was that you told me about it at all and I didn’t ask you to, I wanted you to, but I did not ask you to let me in like that. That was your choice. Then, I come here and let you fuck me and then you don’t tell me what happened. It felt like you didn’t want me to know, like I was only important to a very certain extent.”

“I didn’t want you to feel that way at all—”

“Then why?”

“Because I said something I didn’t mean.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“To Jacob and Laurie.”

“About me?”

“No, not…entirely. I was scared, okay? I thought he wanted to go. So, I told him that if he wanted to, then I would go, too.”

You only sat there for a few seconds, dumbly staring at him. Then, you were on your feet and throwing the blanket onto the floor. You weren’t mad, not initially. It was that gross fear feeling that you’d been experiencing far too often for your liking lately. That was what made you angry. “What the fuck?”

He looked exhausted as he stared up at you. “Baby—”

“Don’t.” He was not going to start using pet names and talking to you in those deep tones just to get you to forget about this. You’d never felt disposable to Andy before that moment, but now you did and you couldn’t just get over it.

“I did not mean it.”

“You did,” you accused. “You didn’t tell me because you meant it and you thought Jacob wanted to go. You were going to leave, and you weren’t planning on telling me that you wanted to leave—”

“I did not and do not want to leave—”

“But you were going to. Willingly, you were going to move to Oregon. No one was forcing you to move, Andy! You’re the one that offered it. I’m sure Laurie didn’t want you to go and Jacob wasn’t considering it, because moving out of this state is just insanity, but you were going to because no matter what, at the end of the day, it’s all about you holding on to this idea of your perfect fucking family.”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“You have a job here, a fucking house, but you would just pack up and leave because your ex-wife and your adult son want you to. That’s a problem, okay? That’s completely unstable for me. And I need stability.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that we did this wrong. We should have been a lot stricter about what we were. We got too comfortable with one another, and we should have kept it more professional. If you had left, I’d be completely fucked. You just made this huge decision, and that’s fine, it��s your life, but you didn’t tell me.”

“Because I did not mean it,” he repeated slowly, finally standing up so he could reach out to you.

You shook your head, turning away from him. “Don’t.”

“Stop making this a big deal.”

It was a huge deal, that he didn’t see that was utterly frustrating. However, you were done. You had to start being practical. This was anything but. Continuing with the relationship at this point was just stupid. You couldn’t do it anymore. You would have to be an adult and go back to acting like one — the job, the pills, all that bullshit.

He sighed. “Baby girl, please—”

“I’m going home,” you announced.

“No, you’re not,”

You took a deep breath before you looked at him. You’d made up your mind and the finality was clear on your face. “I’m going home, Andy.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I need some space.”

“Please.”

“I have to go,” you decided. “I’ll see you around.”

His eyes widened slightly at that. Around? No date? No time? That was all you were offering, and he knew that it wasn’t just space you were asking for. He wasn’t worried about your ability to keep it going, he knew he was going to wear you down eventually. But how long would that take?

He didn’t want space. He wanted the exact opposite, he wanted you so much fucking closer. He wasn’t sure why you were doing this, why you were pulling away, but you weren’t going to budge tonight. Any attempts he made would just be added to his debt. He longed for the earlier times when he could just buy you off.

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#andy barber x reader #my writing

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