#just refer to the notes i put up per chapter

[reiderwriter]

Four In Some Velvet Morning

Chapter Two of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Civility in the office is equal to pettiness in all things, but when you help Spencer out in a sticky situation, it's all your mind can think about well into the early hours in the morning.

Warnings: Uncomfortable situation with a student (non-reciprocated), suggestive touching, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom! Spencer.

A/N: The second part is finally here!! I hope you enjoy the various office shenanigans of Spencer and our reader. Based on the results of our last chapter, I've made a taglist, which you can access through the link below! Have fun reading, and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist~♡

You loved Mondays, or you did love Mondays when they meant only a single teaching hour and a free office to catch up on however much work you'd put off the week before.

But, like everything in your life now, Mondays were ruined by Doctor Spencer Reid.

When you and your coffee arrived at 8:45 on Monday morning, he was right there. You heaved out a sigh of frustration, and he didn't respond, so you sank into an hours worth of annoyed sighs and silence.

“Hmmph,” you huffed, standing from your desk and making your bookshelves. Still ordered alphabetically, and topically, you tried your best to look for the reference guide you'd been annotating all semester. But with no helpful guide to which topics it was that he'd used, you found yourself turning around to address your silent, unwanted companion.

“Spencer, my reference book, where is it?”

You stared blankly at him for a few minutes as you watched him trace a finger down the page he was reading. Delicately, he turned the page and resumed reading the next one, stroking the page like it was a lover in a tender moment, his fingers trailing down to offer his intimacy.

“Spencer?” You said again, and he again ignored you.

“Spencer, there's no way you're reading that fast, cut the crap and answer my question.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute. Thus, I am busy. And weren't you ignoring me?” You took a deep breath and counted to ten in your head before replying.

“I thought we were being civil, Spencer.”

“I am being civil. I'm very civil. Are you being civil, Ms. Y/N?”

“Doctor,” you spat out. “I may have only one to your three, but I did work hard for it.”

He stopped reading and looked up at you, noting the angry look on your face. Standing up quickly, he checked his watch, grabbed his bag and jacket, making sure to carefully slide the book he was molesting into his bag, and walked straight for the door.

“Spencer!” You said indignantly, and he turned back to you with a sarcastic smile, pulling the book you were searching for off the bookcase and throwing it in your direction, before stalking out of the room.

“Jackass!” You shouted behind him as he sent a wave over his shoulder.

Civility. Well, if that was his idea of civility, you could be just as civil. And you'd start by taking all of the books off of the bookshelves once again.

When three hours had elapsed and Spencer had concluded the day's work, he was disappointed to find the office empty. He didn't dwell on the feeling for long, though, as he flipped the light switch to utter chaos.

You'd pretty much gutted the entire shelf, leaving pretty piles stacked all across his desk, chair, and the floor surrounding it, making it near impossible to make his way to his desk without moving something.

The shelves weren't totally empty, though. You'd left roughly thirty books on the centre shelf, held in place by paper weights he recognised as his own acting as bookends.

A post-it was stuck to the first book.

“Ignore this,” you'd written, a lipstick kiss pressed into the paper as your only form of signature. For plausible deniability, of course. You'd never sign your name to a crime.

He sighed and lifted a hand to start taking some books down when he spotted it.

“D…o…n….t…,” he would've gotten further but for the grin spreading across his face as he read the first letter on each book spine. You'd spelt out five words, and he felt a vague sense of satisfaction knowing you'd spent so much time just trying to mess with him.

“DONT TOUCH MY SHIT, JACKASS,” you'd written. But he was absolutely going to touch your shit.

Much to his chagrin, you didn't return to the office that day, too busy with other duties to need to go back. You also wanted to give him a wide berth, hoping that he'd have time to simmer instead of immediately retaliate for all the shit you'd pulled that morning.

Which was why Spencer found himself at work at 6 a.m., getting an early start so he could see your reaction to his, honestly quite tame reply.

You'd acted like a toddler throwing toys out of your pram for no reason. And while he wasn't exactly acting mature himself, he could at least liken himself to a young child throwing the toys back in frustration.

Everything about sharing this office with you was going to be frustrating.

He opened his book again - War and Peace - and began reading through it as he waited for the sun to rise and you to arrive with it.

It was well worth it to catch the look on your face.

“Jackass,” you muttered under your breath as you walked in, coffees and pastries in hand.

He'd put the majority of the books back on the shelf in his order and system. But he'd also left out a large pile of books, blocking the narrow passage between your desk and the wall. It was taller than you and hardly stable, and since you did not want to get concussed on a Tuesday morning, there was no other route to your desk but squeezing behind his.

You huffed out a sigh, dropping what you'd hoped would be truce coffee and breakfast on his desk before standing to push past him. He blocked your way with his arm as he finished up reading a chapter.

“Password?” He asked, not looking up from his desk.

“Very funny, let me pass.”

“Incorrect,” he smiled, nodding towards the shelf where you'd left yesterday's message.

“Seriously?” You asked. His answering look supplied the answer you needed - try me.

“Don't touch my shit, jackass,” you said in a sarcastic tone, trying once again to push past. His damn arm was still too solid, and he pushed you back once again.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, but that was yesterday's password. You'll have to try again.”

Squinting down at him in confusion, you did your best not to dump his coffee over the top of his head as he nodded to the shelf again.

Your writing was still there, but one shelf down there was a new message.

“BUT… ILO…I LOVE… TOU-” You froze, your entire body going hot as you walked back over to him. He was taking a sip of his coffee, as you desperately avoided eye contact. You knew you were attractive, but you honestly didn't think that Spencer would be interested in you like that. And flirting like this, so out of the blue?

Something had to be wrong with him.

“Password?” He asked, taking another sip.

“B-But I love touching you,” you stammered out, cheeks aflame.

He somehow coughed and snorted at the same time, shooting out of his chair with wide eyes.

“More-” he coughed. “That's not… There's more.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you ran back over to the shelves, reading to what was actually the end of the message.

“But I love touching your shit,” you mumbled, and he didn't bother even raising a hand this time. He let you pass, and you sat in tense silence for the rest of the morning.

You got over the awkwardness soon, though, and began using the shelves to torture each other between classes.

You'd once replaced all three textbooks for his class with Russian language versions, back firing spectacularly as he smiled and began reading from them anyway.

He'd started putting important texts on the very top shelf and hiding the only step on the floor in some classroom or the other. Though he too had quit that when other members of staff grew frustrated at the steps disappearance.

You both kept up with the book messages.

“YOU'RE… TOO…LOUD”

“I DIDNT… DO…ANYTHING”

“YOU BREATHED”

“BOO HOO”

“COFFEE…PLEASE”

“IM NOT…YOUR…ASSISTANT”

“WITH THREE… SUGARS”

“I HOPE…. DIABETES… GETS YOU”

“SO…MATURE”

If you were being honest with yourself, you'd probably have realized that you were having a lot of fun hating Spencer Reid. Which made him a little bit harder to hate.

You wished he'd have been more mature about the whole thing, really, so you could despise him without laughing at his audacity every five minutes.

Thursday was the worst day for both of you. Thankfully, he'd taken your advice and scheduled his office hours around your classes.

What he hadn't taken into account was that on Thursdays, you had several classes on different disciplines and for different degree levels, meaning a truck load of resources you had to either cart around with you all day (impossible) or you'd have to drop into your office regularly to pick up your things.

You'd ended up in the same queue as the myriad of undergrads that were taking his course or just auditing and wanted to pick his brain on his off hours, and it was hell each time.

“God, isn't he just so fine. An 18-year age gap isn't noticeable, right?” One girl whispered to her friend as you turned the corner, books in hand, ready to use them as defence weapons should the need arise. The need to laugh and yell it was too much had you biting your tongue quickly. The man was 10 years older than even you, and even you had to pause at the age difference. These girls were practically children.

“And his hair? I just want to tangle my hair in it and pull him down to my-”

“Girls! Please remember this is a hallway, and your professors are still trying to get some work done.”

To their credit, the two first years did turn crimson in shame, sending each other panicked and dirty looks as they communicated their shared horror.

You stepped up to the small hall window at your office and peeked through the blinds.

Another student was inside with Spencer, and the panicked look on his face meant that his conversation was probably going similarly.

The students in the hall whispered and glanced at you every few seconds, and if you weren't in the biggest rush of your professional career, you'd take the time to ask them if you had something on your face.

Instead, you just tried to knock on the glass and hope Spencer would notice your plea for access.

When Spencer noticed you at the window, his eyes locked with yours, his mouth forming a simple plea as the undergrad inched closer to him.

“Help,” he mouthed.

You shrugged in reply, wondering what would possibly be so bad that he'd need your help of all things.

It was then that you noticed the undergrad had reached out a hand to play with the buttons of his jacket, stroking her hand along his chest as he cringed backwards.

You watched him take her hands off him, but she was tenacious, or just a downright creep, and she grabbed his thigh this time, pressing her chest forward. You couldn't see it yourself, but you knew from his reaction and instantly turned head that she was dangerously close to flashing him.

Or she was just doing it.

His eyes pleaded for help again, and you barged into the room with a large cough.

“Doctor Reid, if I could have a moment of your time? It's urgent.”

You dumped the books on your desk, and he jumped up to greet you, stepping out of the young students' grasp and almost shielding himself behind where you stood.

“Of course, yes, Y/N. It is urgent, so I'm sure the students will... be understanding."

He turned back to the student and gestured helpfully to show her the door, but her angry gaze was stuck on yours.

“Old ass skank,” you heard her whisper under her breath. From the hand on your arm and the furrowing of his brow you knew Spencer had as well.

“I'm sorry, what was that, Miss….?”

“Hmm? I'm sure I didn't say anything, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“You-” Spencer began but you silenced him with a hand on his chest.

Her gaze flicked to it, and she grew redder in the face, as if she were truly angry at this development. Interesting.

“Spencer,” you span around, totally ignoring the student now, wrapping your arms up and around his neck. He blinked in confusion once and then twice and hesitated, but let his hands land on your waist.

“It really is so urgent that we speak. Alone. I wouldn't want your precious students hearing anything I have to say to you.” You leaned in closer for the last words, letting your voice flow like honey, neatly seductive as you did your best to remind the student of her place.

Which was as far from a professor's bed as possible.

“She's just leaving, Y/N,” he whispered, equally as breathy as you, if not more. He didn't bother a glance over your shoulder to check, though, keeping his eyes on you as if you were a tiger preparing to pounce on him at any second.

The student grabbed her things and huffed out the door. As soon as the thing was shut, you pulled the blinds totally shut and detangled yourself from Spencer completely, giving yourself a wide berth after bringing yourself so close.

You hadn't realized how long and pretty his eyelashes were until you forced yourself to look at him, how nice his eyes were. The image of them burned into your brain - jealousy, probably. Men always had the best natural eyelashes. It was incredibly unfair.

“What the fuck was that?” You whispered, trying to contain your laugh as you knew the walls here were anything but soundproof.

“Shh,” he hissed, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the remaining undergrads outside start talking. They obviously hadn't got the memo.

“Is this an official FBI strategy?” You teased.

“Shut up, would you? They're talking about us.”

You found yourself all of a sudden pressed against the door next to him, trying to listen in on the conversation outside.

“So it's true? He's really screwing her?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, both from shock and to stop the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest from jumping out. The girl sounded distraught. She sounded absolutely heartbroken. "The coffees every morning were suspicious, and they're always in the office so wrapped up with each other, but I didn't think they were seriously screwing."

“No wonder she was giving us dirty looks earlier,” the other girl whispered back.

“I heard he got her the job here. Pulled some strings, you know. And then, when it didn't look so suspicious, he started and asked for the shared office.”

“Gross! Total nepo hire!”

“No, Tiff, Nepo is when your parents get you the job. What she's doing is just called being a whore.”

Your mouth grew dry, and you pushed back off the wall, suddenly uninterested in anything else the girls had to say.

“Y/N…” Spencer took a sympathetic step your way, offering you an awkward smile as you started busying yourself organizing books.

“Nothing I haven't heard before, Spencer, don't bother,” you said, throwing some papers into your briefcase and keeping your hands moving.

“Though I will say they're getting more creative with their back stories since I have been working here half a year longer than you.”

He watched you work around the office, picking up items and tidying them away as you made a line of tidiness through the chaos of your desk.

“Do you think they all think that?” You asked, curiosity somehow piqued.

“That I got you the job?”

“That we’re screwing,” you said, finally turning to face him.

But the movement was a mistake - you hadn't heard him step closer, so as you turned his face was directly in front of yours, his nose practically touching your own as he looked down at you. It was enough so that the sharp intake of breath you took smelt like him, like he'd wrapped himself around your body and kept you there.

“Do you think they think we're screwing?” He asked, meaning to move away, or at least give you the space for you to do so.

“It doesn't matter to me what other people think,” you smiled up at him. “Because I wouldn't touch you with a tensed foot pole.”

You're thinking about the comment well into the evening, right until the moment your head hits the pillow.

You're thinking about the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you said those words, how he stepped closer and closer until you were backed up against the door.

“You were fine touching me earlier, Y/N. What is it now that makes it unappealing?” He whispered into your ear.

A hand came to your waist as your breath hitched.

“Is it the goosebumps I leave on your skin?” His hand pressed harder as it rose up to your chest. You gasped as he took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it.

“Is it the way your heart beats uncomfortably hard when I'm close?”

His hand dropped again, falling down the plains of your stomach until he was stroking along the top of your pants, begging for entry.

“Or is it the way I make your cunt wet? It must be so hard pretending to hate me when you want my fingers stuffed inside of you.”

You gasped, but your tongue suddenly didn't work, as he slipped past your pants and his fingers were suddenly on your underwear, grinding the pads of his fingers against your slick pussy.

“You dont have to answer, I think I can tell just from feeling this. Shit, Y/N, I could probably slip into you right now with no resistance,” his fingers pushed inside of you as you gripped his arm for support. It was stronger than you expected, rigid as he tensed his arm.

You let him use your body, aware of your soft sighs and moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands were inside you, then they pulled out, and somewhere in between his fingers and his cock filling you, you'd been pressed against the bookshelf, facing it and grabbing at the shelves for stability as he made good on his promise and pushed right into you without a care in the world.

“Spenc-Spencer, the books-”

“You know the books aren't a problem, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear as he pumped deep inside of you.

But the books were a problem, and they fell to the floor with each rough thrust, vibrating as they landed.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buz-

Your eyes shot open the next day, and you jolted out of your slumber, a pillow between your legs as you tried to find your release squirming and humping against it. You reached out for your vibration phone alarm, switching it off quickly to avoid the memory of those falling books from your fast fading dream.

Spencer hadn't touched you in that office. He'd taken your comment at face value and let you leave for your class, but it had stuck in your head.

You'd spent the entire night thinking about his hands on you, and you were entirely uncomfortable with the conclusion you were drawing.

Because now, you supposed, you'd quite enjoy the idea of Spencer Reid touching you wherever he damn well pleased.

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise

[dancingtotuyo]

12. love with urgency but not with haste

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, depression, anxiety, vague/brief references to postpartum recovery, fluff

Notes: as always, a huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand and @janaispunk for beta reading.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3533

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

The newborn stage with Willa is much different than it was with Carter. The early months after Carter’s birth are a blur in your memory. Maria practically moved in with you. The nights you managed to fall asleep, she roused you when he woke up. When you couldn’t sleep, she had to pull you out of whatever world you’d drifted into. You remember feeling like a bad mother at the time. Who isn’t in tune with their child. What mother doesn’t go running at their first cries? But the moment he was in your arms, he joined you in the far off places, tethered you to some semblance of reality. A growing reminder that you couldn’t get too lost. 

Most of what you remember those first few months are feelings, his baby soft skin, the fresh scent of a newborn that seemed to be present whether you lived at the end of the world or not. 

If anyone asks Maria about Carter’s first few months, she sits there for a minute in silence before answering. It’s hard to put into words what she saw. She’d worried about you, made sure you ate, and cleaned yourself up. While you spent much of your day with a far away look in your eyes, the moment she placed Carter in your arms, you were attentive to his every need with ease. You didn’t seem totally present to the world, but you were totally aware of what your child needed as long as he was in your arms. You would interact with the world for an hour or so at a time, like your body knew it needed to for survival. Eventually, your hours of cognition grew. The night you were shushing Carter before Maria could even get out of bed, a weight lifted off her chest. Two days later, she slept in her bed for the first time in three months. 

With Willa, everything feels more concrete. You know better than to chalk it up to being in the present. You’re more present. The world is spinning around you at a hundred miles per hour and you’re keeping up with all of it even with the exhaustion of healing and caring for a newborn. Joel is up for every feeding, pulling her out of the crib, hushing her softly, his hand spanning her entire back before he places her gently in your arms. You laugh together when she nods off, milk drunk and groan in frustration when she refuses to go back to sleep, and you remember all of it. The way her little tongue pokes out as her tiny clenched fists stretch over her head. The way Joel’s crows’ feet cut deep creases into his eyes even beneath the sleep deprivation. The way your heart fills with warmth. 

On more than one occasion, you wake up to find Carter with his face pressed to the bars of the crib, watching over his baby sister as she sleeps. When you say his name, quiet enough to not wake Willa, he spins around with a grin and jumps in bed with you, wiggling between you and Joel. When Willa wakes up, Carter lies flat on his back as you place Willa on his chest. Sometimes he talks to her, filling her in on his dreams from the night before. Other times, he makes funny faces, trying to get her to smile. A few times, he just kisses her head gently and lays with her in silence. Together, You and Joel watch them in awe. 

Ellie visits when Joel is out of the house. After getting through her nerves of holding such a tiny person, she takes to Willa with more ease than you expect. She and Carter take turns telling her about space and dinosaurs. Willa stares at them with wide brown eyes, a captive audience for Ellie and Carter’s shared interests. She doesn’t ask about Joel. You don’t offer any specifics. Anything she learns comes from Carter telling a story or your broad, off handed remarks about plans for the day or week. You can tell that she’s pulled away from you some, but you trust she’ll come to you when she’s ready.  What’s most important to you right now, is that she’s still in your life.  

As much as you hate that Joel never told you, a part of you is grateful he never asked you to keep the secret, and you feel guilty for thinking that. The anger ebbs and flows through you over the entire situation. Ellie deserved the truth, but you understand the fear of loss better than anyone. 

On the days when her assignments allow it, Ellie takes Carter with her, giving you some quiet time. You usually use the time to nap. Sometimes, you lay on the couch, Willa’s small body curled on top of you, sun streaming through the living room window, warming your bodies. 

Willa joins you and Joel on your evening walks once they resume, though they’re usually pre dinner walks now. She is usually strapped to Joel’s  chest in a makeshift sling. The sight of her tiny body asleep against her father quickly becomes one of your favorite sights. No matter what, you have the assurance that your daughter knows the safest place in the world is in her daddy’s arms. 

“What’s got you grinning?” Joel chuckles, squeezing your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“I’m imagining what it would be like to be her.” You smile, nodding toward Willa. “All curled up against your chest.”

He smiles, hand covering her entire back. “I would hope you have a pretty good idea of that by now.” He tugs you closer to him.

You laugh, hands landing on his waist, clutching the fabric of the sling wrap at his sides. “Not strapped to you like that. It seems so cozy and safe.”

“I hope that’s how you feel right now.” He pulls you in close, Willa squeezed softly between you. 

“It is,” you nod. 

“Good,” Joel kisses your cheek. He looks so content, so at ease. It all suits him so well, like he was made to be right here, in Jackson, in this moment with you. His curls play in the soft, June breeze. Willa’s tuft of soft baby hair does the same as it peaks out of the sling. 

Willa squirms slightly between you, drawing both of your attentions until she finds a more agreeable spot. Joel chuckles. “I think it’s time to get my girls inside. I think someone is going to be ready to eat soon.” 

Joel pulls you to his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You hum softly, letting your body melt into his, drunk on the warm air and fading sunshine. Ellie sits on the front porch with Carter when you round the corner. Their favorite astronomy book sits between them. If you couldn’t hear them, you’d think they were having some serious discussion, not trying to decide which constellation would defeat which in hand to hand combat. 

“Solving the world's problems?” You smile at them.

“No, Mommy!” Carter laughs. 

Ellie stiffens immediately as you feel Joel stop behind you. “Ellie.” He nods at her. 

She averts her gaze, refusing to acknowledge him. You don’t have to turn around to see the hurt he’s trying to conceal. He deserves the cold shoulder, and he knows it. 

“Did Willa enjoy her walk, Daddy?” Carter slides off the swing, rushing over to the two of you. 

“She slept through most of it,” Joel chuckles. Ellie shifts her whole body away from the four of you. He pretends not to notice. “Let’s go inside, Buddy.” He holds out his hand.

Carter nods, taking it, but looks back at Ellie before they head inside. “See you tomorrow, Ellie?”

She nods. “Of course.”

The door clicks shut, leaving just the two of you. You ease onto the swing next to her. She doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t attempt to make eye contact. You sit back, waiting for her to say something, or leave, but you get the feeling she’s ready to talk about it. 

“I could have.”

“Could have what?”

“Solved the world’s problems.”

You suck in a deep breath, the carelessness of your earlier words hitting you. “Even if they had figured out how to make a cure,” you say. 

“They did. I saw everything!” She clenches her fist. 

“You saw theories, and lab experiments.”

“Ones that they said worked.”

“Even successful lab experiments go wrong in practice.”

Ellie shifts in her seat, hunched over her knees, but she’s not running away from you. 

Your fingers find the end of her short hair. She’s continued to trim it since you did the initial chop. 

“The infected would still be infected. People would still hunt each other down, grab for power. Everything that was built is gone. The world can’t go back to how it was.”

“So we’re doomed? My immunity means nothing?”

“No,” you grab her arm, the one with the bite mark. The outline of a fern is tattooed over the inside of her forearm now. She’s talked about filling it in, cover the bite with it. “It means that immunity is possible. That maybe one day humans will adapt and evolve to fight Cordyceps. It’s hope.”

“Hope feels pretty damn shitty when your friends are dying.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” you sigh, setting her arm down.

Silence settles between you. Birds chirp. Bees buzz around the flowers in front of your house even as the sun fades behind the mountains. 

“I don’t think I can ever forgive him.”

“You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry about it too.” Her head whips around, brown eyes sparkling with tears. You give you a somber smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He shouldn’t have lied to you. I know you gave him every opportunity to tell you.”

There’s a soft nod to her head that grows with each up and down. 

“Whether you ever forgive him is up to you, but you will always have me, okay?”

Ellie lets out a sigh of relief, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as her arms wrap tightly around your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Ellie.” You squeeze her against you. “Like you’re my own child.” 

Her voice is muffled against your shoulder, but you still hear the world clear as day. “I love you too.”

You lose track of time, but you sit with Ellie until she is ready to go. Once she stands, she lingers, keeping conversation. You smile at her. “You’re welcome to stay for supper.”

She seems to think about it for a second, eyes drifting to the door that keeps her separated from Willa and Carter… and Joel. You see it in her face, she misses it. Forcing a weak smile on her lips, she squares her shoulders some. “I think it's better if I don’t. Not tonight at least.”

“It’s an open invitation. Same as always. You’ll-”

“Always have a seat at your table.” She finishes with a real smile this time. 

“Exactly.” 

“Thank you.” She says, and then she’s walking across the street to her house. 

Willa is squirming in Joel's arms when you get inside, rooting against Joel’s cheek in search of food. He laughs with baby drool splotching across his chin. “Don’t think I’m gonna be much help there, Wildflower.”

You laugh, arm’s instantly stretching out to take her. “Hand her here.”

He kisses her cheek before doing so, placing a kiss on your cheek as well. “I’ll start on dinner.” 

You hum in appreciation. “You’re a good man.”

“When I want to be,” Joel calls over his shoulder as you settle on the couch. Carter colors at the coffee table in front of you, updating you on his day at school as you nurse Willa. Life feels good, settled with Joel in the kitchen and your children around you. The only thing missing is Ellie, and you’re hopeful that she’ll be back soon. 

Life carries on much the same, the five of you settling into a routine, a dance of sorts. Ellie still avoids dinners both at your house and Sunday’s at Tommy and Maria’s. You see Joel searching for any way to make things right, but you know what he can’t admit. There’s nothing he can do. An apology might help, but Ellie has to be ready to forgive him, and she’s a long way off. 

The summer is slow and sweet like honey. Willa doesn’t seem to get that memo because you swear you blink and she grows. She begins to sleep more throughout the night, which is a welcome change for both you and Joel. She smiles and laughs now, and you swear it is the most treasured sound. If she's awake and fed, someone is making her giggle. You soak it all in, every second, stopping to commit the moments to your memory. 

Willa’s feedings increase to every four hours at the beginning of August, just as the bouquets of wildflowers Joel brings you begin to grow in size and color. They’re hitting their peak a little bit later this year, but you’re thankful for it. You should have just enough time to enjoy a short afternoon there, just you and Joel. While getting on a horse still sounds like the least appealing right now, you’re willing to endure it for the beautiful peace of the meadow. You just have to get Joel to agree. 

You’re lying next to him in bed. He’s angled against the headboard, reading a book about space so he can keep up with Carter… and Ellie. Crickets chirp through your open bedroom window, ceiling fan spinning above you. The summer has been hot, but thankfully, it cools down at night, cool enough to tolerate Joel’s hand on your inner thigh just above your knee, drawing little circles absentmindedly against your skin. 

You’re in that matching pajama set that Joel loves. Nothing fancy, just a thin shirt and shorts, not particularly sexy by any means, but you catch the way his pupils dilate every time you wear it. You wore it intentionally tonight, not to seduce him necessarily, at three months postpartum, you still don’t feel quite ready for sexual activity, but you were hoping to make him a little more open to taking you outside the wall. 

Your little expeditions outside had quickly died once he learned of your pregnancy, not that you were very interested at that point either, feeling slow and uncomfortable, but you have an inkling that he might be resistant at first. 

“Joel?” You roll onto your stomach, hand spreading across his stomach and chest.  

His eyes dart to yours, suspicion crawling over his face as he chimes back with an antiquated “Yes, dear?”

You crinkle your face. “What are we? A sitcom couple in the 50’s?”

He chuckles as he dog ears the book, setting it on the nightstand. He’s careful to keep a cap on his volume so he doesn’t wake Willa sleeping in the corner. “You want something.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

You narrow your eyes at him, making his head tip back with another chuckle. His large hands slide over your body, guiding you to straddle his lap. There’s still an ache in your pelvic floor with the stretch, making you wonder if you’ll actually be able to withstand the horseback ride, but you want to go lay in the wildflowers with Joel like you did last year. 

“You okay, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine,” you say, and the ache is slowly easing away. 

Joel’s hands roam your exposed thighs, kneading at the extra weight you’re carrying from the pregnancy. He loves it all, the extra pieces of you available to his hands now. Joel hums, still suspicious. 

“You have the day off tomorrow, we should go see the wildflowers.”  

Joel raises an eyebrow. “What about Willa?”

“We can make it there and back before she needs to be fed, and Maria already said she could watch both of the kids.”

“Are you ready for that?” 

“I want to go.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Joel meets your eyes with stern concern, letting you know there’s no room except for the absolute truth. 

“Joel-”

“I’m not taking you out there unless I know you’ll be okay.” There’s something more than concern in his features now. Is that fear? “We’ve never had any issues out there, but I’m not going to risk putting you in harm's way if you’re not ready.” 

You let out a long sigh. He takes one of your hands in his, kissing your fingers gently. “The ride there and back will be difficult. I haven’t been on a horse in months and I’m still a bit sore at times.” 

Joel lets out a long sigh, rolling the idea through his mind, working through the logistics. You can tell, he wants to take you. “I’m not sure, Darlin.”

“We’ve been going on walks for weeks.”

“Because that’s comparable to running for your life after riding on horseback.”

“Joel.” 

“Promise me you won’t slow up if something happens, and you’ll let me know if you need to turn around.”

A smile spreads across your face. “Cross my heart.”

He smiles at you and you know you’ve won. “Okay.”

Joel spreads the blanket out in the meadow as you take in the smattering of color sprawling around you. They’re more vibrant than last year, having had more rain this spring and summer. In the distance, a woodpecker knocks at the trunk of a tree. Dragonflies chase after each other as the sun soaks into your skin. 

Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as the two of you sway in the gentle breeze.  “How you feelin?” he presses a kiss into the crook of your neck. 

You lean back against him, tilting your head toward the sun to soak it in. “Like I had a baby three months ago and then rode a horse.” 

“Think you can make it to the ground?”

“Not sure I’ll be able to make it back up,” you laugh as Joel helps you ease to the ground. 

“Makes two of us,” Joel chuckles, sitting down. 

You lounge against him, both of you enjoying the sounds of nature and the peace around you. It’s hot, the sun beating down unencumbered, but neither of you minds. Neither of you tries to distance yourself from the other’s body heat. The gentle breeze floats over your skin. The two of you watch as a yellow butterfly lands on your boot, easing its wing open and shut before taking back off. Just like last summer, it feels magical here. Like you can forget the rest of the world and its dangers and simply be present. 

Joel stretches his legs and then he’s pulling backward so that you’re both fully stretched out on the blanket. Your jean clad legs tangle with each other as you nuzzle into his side. His fingers play over your shoulder blades, exposed by your razorback top. 

You’re pulled back to just over a year ago, when he brought you here for the first time, the words he almost said, the ones you wouldn’t let him say, and how much life has changed since then. The losses, the gains, Willa. Your heart has opened so much. 

Joel nudges you onto your back, lips nipping in your neck, just under your earlobe, and down your jaw. You laugh, sun dazed and relaxed.  He lets out a content huff that spreads into a deep chuckle as his hand sprawls over your abdomen. You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

 You see that look again. The same one from last year, the one you’ve seen every day since. He looks at you like you hold the world in your hands as the sun glistens off his deep brown eyes, You feeling it radiating off of him in waves, surging toward the surface. 

His thumb runs over your bottom lip. “Gonna let me say it this time, Sweetheart?”

Your head lilts softly, absorbing him and everything about this moment. The way nature seems to hold its very breath in anticipation as the breeze stops and the critters go silent. You push back one of his curls with your thumb, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as a small ball of energy forms in your stomach. 

“I’m not gonna stop you.”

He smiles, the chuckle in his chest taking its time to reach your ears. He savors it, much like you just did, taking in everything about you in this moment. The tilt of your head, the light in your eyes. You’ve been his, but you’re giving him all of you in this moment. He’s not going to take it for granted. 

“I love you.”

All the anxiety you feared would manifest, melts away, swept away as the breeze rustles through the meadow again. Pure, unbridled joy cascades through your body until it bubbles over into your face, thrumming in your veins as it manifests in the purest laugh at your lips. 

“I love you, Joel.” 

Bonus: Art Work

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[steamberrystudio]

16/11/2024

Hallo everyone!  Tumblr devlog time. It's been a while again. I keep writing up posts for tumblr and then apparently never posting them.

This is what happens when I get distracted mid-post write up. I guess? I SWEAR I posted the last one but I don't see it anywhere.  The last post I see is my Episode 1 announcement so I'm either losing my mind or I've written two (2) updates that I never posted.

Maybe both. Because hey. 

Before I jump into the update, I just want to say that I relocated my Steamberry account to Bluesky from the other place. You can find me @steamberrystudio.bsky.social

Summary Bullets:

(all the work below is in reference to Episode Two content)

Since my last update (???) I've completed nearly 8 CGs

Multiple new BGs

Finished Wil's expressions

Finished Raif, Yren, Asher and side character expressions

Finished all expressions in the common route

Started Daaz's exclusive scene expressions.

Completed the flowcharts (building and unlocking)

Art:

So I have continued to receive BGs and BG sketches, of course.

I've also completed multiple CGs for episode two. 

I'm trying to do one CG per chapter for each LI so that means I need 12 (but with some extras for Kav so actually 14 for this episode. And I have...7 done I think? (two of Kav's, which I had completed previously) plus one each for Daaz, Noel, Raif, Asher, Yren. And I've started on another of Kav's.

Some of the CGs are solo CGs but each LI will have 1 CG that includes both the LI and Wil. Those, I haven't started yet. But after I finish this last solo Kav CG, I'll start on the couples CGs.

I've also done some touching up on previous CGs - I noticed that there were some mistakes in some of the previous ones I wanted to fix like some layers being inexplicably off.

I also redrew a CG that I didn't previously like but I don't know if I like the new version any better so I may not update it. 🤣

I received new BG art of course. As usual.

And I started putting together an art book that will be available for some Patreon tiers. I may eventually make it available for purchase outside of Patreon but that definitely will not be until the game is complete because as of now, I'll have to update the art book episodically along with the game.

So yeah, lots of art stuff happening. Lots.

Other Stuff:

I have coded the flowcharts. So the process for the flowcharts is as follows:

I make a mock up in simplemind - this just gives me a rough idea of the shape and number of nodes that I'm going to need. I use this to help me figure out in advance how big the flowchart will be as well as any weird shaping issues.

I build the flowcharts in Renpy using the flowchart plug in that Feniks created for me. 

Beg Fen for help at multiple points when the connectors and nodes are not behaving (because of me, not their plugin)

Set all the unlock statements in the game so that the flowchart actually lights up properly as you play.

For Episode 2, there were just over 200 nodes. 

The flowcharts in WSC, behemoths though they may be, are still simplified compared to the actual game branching. I can't really make note of every single branch in the game. Many callbacks are quite small and if I included them all, the flowchart would be insane. It already is. LoL

I don't need it to be even worse. So you can think of it as there being 200+ *major* scene divisions and choice options...

But numerous small callbacks and branching scenarios that don't get noted on the flowchart.

Upcoming Weeks:

My goal for the upcoming week is to actually finish expressions. When that's done I'll consider the beta version of the game roughly complete since it'll have everything I consider necessary for testing.

I'm not sure I'll release it to Patrons right away but just getting expressions done is a huge milestone and I'm really looking forward to being done with that.

This chapter had a huge amount of very large group scenes that were a bit time consuming to code expressions for. 

Group scenes are always a lot of work but even more so in this game.

In GS there were a lot of group scenes but a lot of them were meetings where people weren't necessarily being hugely expressive. In WSC some of the group scenes involve very emotional conversations or very dynamic conversations that require a lot more expression changes. People are popping in and out a lot more frequently....

And there's a fairly long, intense, somewhat action-y and suspenseful SPACE SHENANIGAN that occurs in Chapter three. So the expressions through that section are quite dynamic and are shifting around a lot.

Point being, the group scenes were a pain in the butt.

This will calm down a bit over the next few chapters after Episode Two. I think.

I don't know. We'll see. 

Expressions are tedious. Ha ha.

BUT I'm nearly there with this Episode so there's that. And then I'll be able to focus entirely on testing and getting the CGs complete.

So yeah, lots of progress for Episode 2 so far.

And will hopefully see you in two weeks when I do not write up a post and immediately forget to post it. 💪

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter twelve: back to you | read chapter eleven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: the final part <3 my end notes if you'd like <3

ten months later

“Hey, you two. Where’s your aunt?”

“Having an existential crisis on the trampoline,” you hear Irey respond matter-of-factly. 

“She’s no fun anymore,” Jai adds. 

“Well, Bart just got here so—woah!” 

Even you can feel the sharp gust of wind the twins create as they zoom off to see their cousin. Bart Allen runs at a million miles per hour—metaphorically and literally, so he and the twins get on like a house on fire. 

Good thing everyone turned out for you and Steph’s pre-graduation party, otherwise Wally, Jay, and Max would have their hands full trying to make sure the three of them didn’t bring the house down.

And when you say everyone came, you really mean everyone.

That’s sort of the problem.

Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen were pleasant as always when they arrived—fifteen minutes late, the tardiness Barry is prone to considerably mitigated by his wife’s urging—and gave you big hugs in congratulations when they saw you. 

“Well, early congratulations,” Barry amends, smiling. 

“I just wish we could be there, too,” Iris says, letting you go. 

You wave her off. Barry had a mission with the JL on the day of and Iris’s book tour was just starting, so there was no extra time to spare. 

“No, it’s okay. Wally and Linda are already going, so that’s enough.”

“We’ll be there in spirit,” Barry says, grinning as Iris rolls her eyes. “Literally.”

Referring to the speed force and the way it tethers both speedsters and lightning rods. So, yeah, technically. 

You chuckle. “Exactly. So, don’t worry.”

“We still wanted to give you our gift in person, though,” Iris says, passing you an envelope. 

“You guys really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“‘Course we did,” Barry says. “You’re Wally’s… what is it? Close friend slash little sister slash niece? Us, well, we don’t mind seeing you as a niece.”

“Complicated labels aside,” Iris puts in, “you’re part of this family, too.”

And boy if that wasn’t going to choke you up.

You believe it now, almost a year since Wally revealed his identity; since then, you consider Keystone City and Central City as much of a home as Gotham. It was only inevitable that you met the others and you were lucky enough that they welcomed you with welcome arms. 

But the ones part of this family are one and many. Not just the Garricks, not just the Wests, not just the Allens, not just Max Mercury, but—

“Ms. Chambers?”

Jesse Chambers grins at you. “Hey now, none of that. Here, Jesse works just fine. Pleasure to meet you. Everyone has had nothing but excellent things to say about you.”

Okay. Sure.

That bit is just a little obscured by your horrible confusion on how on earth she even knew everyone. 

You have an inkling as to the answer but frankly, it feels impossible to believe. Not because you don’t think she is not capable of it but the fact that the whole billionaire-as-a-superhero/vigilante thing isn’t so uncommon as initially thought.

The confusion must be written all over your face. She laughs. Jay is at your side in the next instant, smiling at her in greeting.

“Sorry not to have told you sooner,” he tells you apologetically, though the smile pulling at his lips tells you he isn’t that sorry. “But we wanted to leave the decision up to her. And—”

“If you can keep these guys’ secret,” Jesse says, jerking a thumb to the kitchen, where Wally, Linda, Barry, and Iris are, “you can keep mine, too. Besides, you did great work during your internship. QE has had our eyes on you for a while.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“We want to,” she says. “We wouldn’t lose anything at all offering you a place with PR. But if you want to go somewhere else, that’s okay. I’d be happy to be a reference if so.”

Somehow, you managed to stammer out a thank you and get out of that situation without making a complete fool of yourself. Wally later told you Jesse taps into the speed force using an equation, which… sure, why not. 

Jesse used to not like him, apparently, but recent events have allowed her to warm up to him; plus, the birth of her own son, Johnny Tyler, helped, too, that way Wade could have a friend to grow up with. 

While all the others prepare dinner and attempt to keep Bart, Jai, and Irey’s shenanigans contained, you manage to snag a bit of time to yourself, not quite believing you’d just been offered a job by Jesse Chambers herself. 

It’s all just… a little bit insane.

Then the twins came out and you indulged them on the trampoline in the backyard of the West house for a bit. Then you thought too hard about everything and sunk right back into your disbelief again.

Which leads to now.

“Speedsters, I swear,” Tim mutters.

You hear the soft sound of footsteps on the grass but make no move to leave from your place — star-fished on the trampoline, eyes closed. Early May in Keystone City is considerably warmer and tepid than Gotham City. You should shed your hoodie but you don’t want to. Mostly because it isn’t yours, exactly.

It’s Tim’s. The one you wore the night you got stabbed last year. Not the same one; that one was ruined beyond repair and anyway, you weren’t too happy to wear that exact one, either, since you nearly bled out in it. But it’s close enough. The same shade of brilliant azure. Big on Tim and baggy on you.

Of course, why should you want a hoodie when your boyfriend is right here?

The faint noise of the flaps of the netting be brushed aside. Then the trampoline itself moves, dipping with his weight as he comes over to you. You slide a bit, elbow bumping into his knee.

“So,” he starts, closer than before, one hand brushing your cheek as he tucks a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “What’s this about an existential crisis? In the middle of the day?”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Schematics.”

You grunt but don’t respond.

A soft chuckle. “Is this about Jesse Chambers’ offer? It’s too bad, you know.”

“What’s too bad.”

“Well, Wayne Enterprises was looking forward to offering you a position, too. And so were the Titans. And I can’t speak for this one personally but I’m fairly certain the Justice League was planning on sending an offer, too. You’re in high demand.”

You groan. “Isn’t that too much? I’m—I haven’t even graduated. There are so many other people with so much more experience—”

“Well, how are you supposed to get experience, too?” he asks, laughing softly. “Besides, you’re graduating with honors.”

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m sure it helps to have a boyfriend with an in at WE, who also just so happens to be a member of the Titans, on top of multiple people who are close to me that are also part of the Justice League.”

“And Jesse Chambers? Hers is the most reliable in that sense, then, isn’t it? Because she doesn’t personally know you—”

“But she knows Wally.”

“But their relationship isn’t that great. Sure, she’s good with Jay and Max but… You also have the advantage of having worked there briefly. They wouldn’t call you back if they didn’t like what they saw.”

Which is true. Jesse Chambers is a businesswoman. She wouldn’t do this as some pity play.

Then again, neither would the others.

You finally open your eyes, squinting immediately as the sun beams down at you. 

Tim shifts, moving until his head can shield you from it, bringing him into your focus. 

He’s smiling warmly at you, affection clear in his gaze; the sunlight does wonders for him, for his dark hair and blue eyes.

“This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” he says. “You’re graduating next week Friday. You and Steph. And no matter where you go and what you do, you’re gonna kick ass, you know that, right?”

You groan. “You’re supposed to say things like that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “But when I tell you I had nothing to do with the offer from WE, you have to believe me. You know I haven’t worked with them in a long while. That was all them.”

“Bruce?”

“Maybe Bruce.” 

But then that’s ‘cause he feels… guilty about cornering you last year. Which serves him right. Your relationship with Tim’s adoptive father is a bit rocky, truth be told. Just because of the things Tim has told you. The things Steph has told you. And last year is certainly a factor. But all the others, you get along with them. 

You don’t see Dick too often because he lives in New York but he’s kind. Jason’s cool when you see him. Cass and Duke are great. You hang out with them regularly on your own. Damian is a bit frigid but that’s just because of your choice in company and not anything personal, exactly, but you do get the advantage of also having Steph on your side, since they have a better relationship than he and Tim do. Alfred is pleasant as always, too; sometimes he sends grocery deliveries to you to make sure you’re sustaining on actual food and not just ramen. 

Barbara Gordon is also very nice and volunteered to help you put together your resume and cover letters and applications; Jean-Paul Valley is kind, too. They’re both old family friends, you would learn. You have lunch with Helena Bertinelli once a month; you two bond over a mutual dislike for Batman and a mutual fondness for Tim—begrudging on her part sometimes but she undeniably sees him as a little brother and he sees her a big sister. And truthfully, your relationship with her is a bit similar.

You’ve made quite a few relationships with these vigilantes. Connections. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that all of this is happening. But one part of you, the prideful part, doesn’t like it. The other part, the rational one, says it was unavoidable. You were going to apply to QE and WE, anyway. Maybe toss out a few applications to the League and the Titans, too, just for the heck of it. Not expecting anything to come of it. Out of any of it. 

But of course something would. You know too many of these people for nothing to happen. 

“But then again,” Tim says a moment later. “Bruce is just attached to the company by name.”

“That is not a ‘just’ thing, Tim, that is a very big thing. They’d do whatever he wanted.”

“Not anything. Not if you didn’t have the grades, background, or potential to back it up.”

Also, technically, true. 

“But like I said. Jesse’s is the most earnest in that regard.”

“Do you want me to leave Gotham, is that it.”

He laughs. The sound warms you.

“I don’t,” he chuckles. “I really don’t. I’d love for you to go with WE. But I also know that the news of us dating throws a wrench in that.”

Right. Ever since the gossip columns caught you two kissing on a date a couple months ago, they wouldn’t shut up about it. Only after digging their grubby little fingers into every inch of your past, of course, and using that to fuel the flames. Talking about your relationship with him as if you planned it, just trying to get a leg-up in the application process at WE. 

But the thing is, objectively speaking, there isn’t anything wrong with that. You aren’t with Tim strictly for that purpose but you knew it would factor in. It’s undeniable, the way all these other offers are undeniable in who and why they came. You can’t help who you’re connected to. 

But yeah. It would suck to prove all the tabloids right by accepting a job with WE right after graduation—like all of them said you would.

Of course, they would talk regardless. Even if you went with QE or the Titans or the Justice League. Wayne Enterprises is a known partner with Quickstart Enterprises, as well as a heavy funder for the League and the Titans. So…

 You groan, wiggling closer to him by planting your head on his thigh and staring forlornly up at him. “What should I do?” 

He smiles. “Whatever you want to, honey.”

“Yeah, that’s not really helpful, Timmy.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, bending down to scoop you into his arms. You let out a squeak as he pulls you into his lap, then you settle comfortably in the circle of his arms, dropping your head on his shoulder. 

From here, you can spy the old bullet graze on the side of his neck, silvery and a little textured. Without a second thought, you lean forward to kiss it.

He shivers slightly, arms tightening around you. 

You bite down a smile. “Cold?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers digging into your side, making you giggle and try to squirm away from him. 

He doesn’t keep up the torment, exhaling a soft laugh, too, as you lay your head back on his shoulder.

A cool breeze sweeps through the backyard. In the suburbs of Keystone City, it is quiet out here. Peaceful. Though you can still hear the others inside. Wally saying something. Steph laughing at it. 

You’ve carved out a nice place for yourself here. The West’s and Garrick’s here in Keystone and the Allen’s over in Central. 

You close your eyes, basking in Tim’s embrace and his proximity. You haven’t seen him much this month, with you and Steph in the throes of finals. But he promised to come, that he’d ask Bart to take him and his friend happily agreed.

You were surprised to learn of their relationship. That they had known each other. But they had met when they were younger, along with the rest of the original members of Young Justice. Put together because they were superhero kids. The relationship stuck. What a coincidence, that Bart Allen was part of the family you had quickly grown close to. But not unwelcome.

It is a small world, you would think. 

Or maybe, when you feel indulgent, meant to be. You and Wally. You and Steph, you and Tim. All of this. Interconnected in ways you could only dream of. You don’t have to sacrifice much to have them together. 

Tim squeezes your hip, one hand slipped underneath the hoodie. “What are you thinking about?”

That maybe this decision isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. That it’s not a matter of deliberation, is it?

You know you don’t want to prove all the tabloids right by going with WE immediately. Not to mention, for the longest time, it was a dream to work with them. You want more time, more experience, before you move there.

And you don’t think you are ready to jump head-first into working for the Justice League or the Titans. You need experience for that, too.

So…

“I’m pretty sure I could convince Wally to take me to Gotham to visit. When I start at Quickstart.”

“Not necessary,” he says and you raise an eyebrow, watching him pull back, his gaze warm, not at all surprised by your words. “I could just come and visit you. Unlimited access to the jet and all.”

“Racking up carbon emissions just for me?”

“You know the jet is clean energy,” he says, pouting a bit. 

Yes, you do. He talked your ear off about it when they made the switch. But you just like seeing him get pouty about it. 

You cup his cheeks, smiling, particularly taken with the way his whole face softens as he looks at you. The knowledge that he’s this soft for you is always so insane to you. Not at all good for your heart. 

“I know. It’s still a bit of an expense, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s worth it.”

“Cornball.”

“I’m being serious,” he presses, hands tightening around your waist. “Whatever I have to do, it’s worth it for you.”

You know that. Tim is a devoted boyfriend. He doesn’t do things in halves. When he’s loyal to someone, when he dedicates himself, he does it wholly. You could ask him of anything and he would do whatever it took to get it for you, to do it for you. If you asked him to move with you, you know he would do it.

You also know the thought must’ve crossed his own mind. But he still won’t say anything, not unless he knows you want it, too, and… you do. You think that can wait, though, for a little while longer. Let you get settled in and then you two can discuss that possibility—if he wants to, of course, because while Wally and Linda do like him now, the former would not like having a Bat running underfoot in the city, in either of the cities. 

You just aren’t used to that kind of devotion. Even after this long. 

You slide your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his hair. He leans into the touch. “I know.”

“I’ll take Steph when I can, too,” he adds and you smile again. 

“I love you.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut.

He nudges your nose with his, then finally closes the distance between you two.

Cotton-candy sweet warmth unspools in your chest he kisses you, soft and gentle. But it quickly edges into dangerous territory when you nip at his bottom lip and he yanks you closer and closer until there is no space between your bodies. It would be better if you weren’t wearing this hoodie but you make do with what you have, still able to feel most of his chest pressed to yours, hard and sturdy, heat licking up your spine.

Your fingers twine in his hair and he lets out a shuddery breath, the kiss turning open-mouthed in the next second and you can taste the gum he was chewing on earlier. 

It’s a shade too hungry for your current location but you can’t help it, he’s just so… beguiling. You’re overwhelmingly attracted to your boyfriend and you think you always will be.

But of course, you still should know better, even with all that.

A sharp gust of wind hits you two in the next second and you both separate immediately, knowing exactly what—or who—it is. But instead of Wally or any other speedster here, a high-pitched giggle makes it to your ears and you both turn, eyebrows raising as you find one and a half year old Wade West now inside the trampoline, net fluttering behind him. 

You and Tim turn to look at the back door, which is now open, Wally and Linda standing there; the former looks pleased, while the latter just raises her eyebrows. 

“I thought,” he starts, mischief written on his face, “that instead of leaving space for Jesus, you could leave some space for Wade. So. Do that. And please stop desecrating the place my children play.”

“And come inside,” Linda adds. “Food’s almost ready.”

You slide off Tim’s lap, reaching for Wade before he tries to stand and walk over to you, not trusting his balance on the trampoline. Tiny hands grapple with the hoodie strings, tugging.

“Got it. Thanks.”

They both smile pleasantly and turn back inside. 

You bite your lip, which already feels swollen from your kissing, and look at Tim. His face is flushed with red, lips swollen, too. A tempting sight.

He catches the look on your face. “Don’t.”

“It’s my graduation party.”

“It’s yours and Steph’s. Later.” 

“You’re no fun.”

“Well, you love me, so what does that say about you?”

“That you’ve seduced me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve seduced you, okay, sure—” he looks at Wade, shaking his head “—can you believe this?”

All Wade can do is giggle in response. All you can do is smile at him, so painfully in love. 

He smiles back, rising up on his knees and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. 

“I love you, too, you know.”

Yeah, you do know. 

four years later

“Goddamit, where is it?”

Fish, a miniature Italian Greyhound you rescued from the shelter, offers no answer or help for your plight. Instead, she just sits near you, happy to follow you around as you search, watching you with big eyes. Big, empty eyes. Absolutely nothing goes on in her little head and you and Tim love her very much for it but damn if you wouldn’t appreciate a little help in finding the security badge that seems to have mysteriously disappeared.

It’s perfect timing, too. That badge is your lifeline. That’s what your supervisor, Meena, said anyway, a couple days ago when you went in for it and had a chance to speak with her before starting work. You can’t get into the tower without it. You can’t do anything without it and guest badges do not have the same amount of clearance that you have. 

You stop in the living room, taking a breath, frustration starting to make you hot, which would be the icing on the cake, if you managed to sweat through your clothes before you even started work.

Sighing, you look at her. “Do you know where it is?”

A sound behind you. 

“You should know better than that, honey,” comes the sleepy voice of your boyfriend, and you turn. “Fish is lucky to have a single coherent thought once a week and she wasted that one yesterday when she managed to give Damian the high five he asked for.”

You chuckle despite yourself, remembering the pleased gleam that had come into Damian’s hazel green eyes when Fish successfully completed the trick. Only after six months of painstaking work, of course, but it hardly deters him. Titus passed away not too long ago and he’s fixated on Fish because of it. Even if he says her name is ‘completely idiotic.’

Brushing away those thoughts, you focus on Tim, still sleepy-eyed and rumpled. Then you see it—in his hand is your security badge, your picture smiling up at you, with your name beneath it. 

“Oh my god, where—”

“You gave it to me, remember?” he asks, laughing softly as you pad over to him. “And said to keep it with my gear, that way it wouldn’t get lost between then and now.”

True. All true. After all, that gear—that is, his suit and tech—doesn’t get brought out other than for the occasional mission with the Titans, so, say, every six months or so. Other than that, it remains hidden in a panel behind your side in the walk-in closet, accessible only by him and you through fingerprint and retinal scans. 

Easiest way not to get lost, especially since you’ve been particularly harried in the lead-up to the official start of your job at Wayne Enterprises as their spokesperson. 

“Sorry,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re up? Because I told you, you don’t need to wake up for this, you can stay in bed…”

He raises an eyebrow. “And let you freak out for the next hour and a half before you have to leave?”

“Um. Yes?”

A soft smile. He reaches for you, hands settling on your arms, rubbing small circles there. 

“Well, you’re wrong. It’s your first day at WE.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to get up now at least…”

The original idea when you decided to wake up at five-fifteen is that one, it would give you ample time to get ready—both yourself and your belongings—and two, it would let you try to relax. 

Key word being try.

It’s now six, you’re supposed to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes to beat the morning rush traffic, and your nerves are none the better for it. 

Your sleep was fitful, too, in anticipation of today, so you’re starting to feel sleepiness creep in at the edges; the fact that the sun has not yet risen and won’t rise for a while—cursed winter months and their late sunrises—does not help.

He eyes you. “I think I do.”

You groan, dropping your forehead on his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”

He squeezes your arms. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. They’re going to eat me alive.”

If not for being the new girl, then certainly because your boyfriend was, actually, once major shareholder of the company when he was seventeen and no, it doesn’t matter that he was just a figurehead and Lucius was actually pulling the strings—it still happened and Tim worked closely with the company for several years after. And then, of course, it will also be because your boyfriend is the adoptive son of the man who owns the actual company. 

Even if you waited before joining, even if you actually applied for the position! Yes, applied! Contrary to what a few tabloids are saying right now, you did not go up to Tim (or Bruce, depending on which gossip column you’re reading) and demand the job. You went through the same channels as absolutely anyone else would.

Tim ducks his head to press a kiss to your neck. You can’t help your shiver and you know he feels it by the way he smiles against your skin. “No, they won’t. That’s my job. They can’t take that away from me.”

“Now is so not the time—”

He laughs, pulling away; you do the same to look at him. 

“You’re going to be fine, gorgeous. You had Linda and Iris regularly pressing you these last few weeks and you did very well with them. Not to mention your last two jobs…”

You purse your lips.

“Two years with Quickstart Enterprises,” he lists. “Two more with the Justice League. Still bitter you picked them over the Titans, by the way.”

“They were more hardcore. Sorry.”

“Well, see? You and the rest of the team had to salvage the League’s image after each alien invasion or otherwise massive destruction committed during a mission and you guys did it. I mean, the publicity campaign you came up with was brilliant, you know that, right? Support was the highest it’s ever been while you were there.”

Right… In an effort to better the League’s image with the public after a particularly nasty fight that left multiple city blocks destroyed and more questions about the relevancy of the team, you decided the more prominent League members needed to create more solid images for themselves, that way each time the public or news saw them, it wasn’t always about the latest incident that brought their presence in. To do this, they needed to pick something to sponsor or support and start showing for it. Superman took an interest in accessibility to education, Wonder Woman focused on preserving wildlife and ecosystems, along with world landmarks, and Batman—with immense detail and planning to abide by his stiff rule not to be seen before the masses—focused on rehabilitation programs.

It brought in a lot of good coverage as more Leaguers agreed to do it and it did help. Helped a lot. Not to say those in the League were not helping, of course, either suited up in their own cities or with their public personas, but that was the issue. The League was capable of much more destruction collectively than individually and the public didn’t know that Batman was funding hundreds of programs to help impoverished communities in Gotham, mostly because he did that as Bruce Wayne and that connection would never be made known.

But that was the job. And you did it. Excellently. You would’ve stayed on for a little while longer but then you got kidnapped towards the end and that just wasn’t fun.

(Fortunately, however, there was a clause in your signing contract that states that in the event of a kidnapping, the League is obligated to rescue you. 

Fair is fair, you think, for helping maintain their image and ensure that the UN doesn’t pull the plug and that the public doesn’t completely despise them.)

And of course, if you managed to survive working with the League and being kidnapped because of that work, then you should be entirely prepared to take on Wayne Enterprises. It should be chump change, if anything, but again, you go in with preconceived notions about yourself and your reputation. Not so great.

But would you back out?

No way. 

“I believe in you,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and reassuring. “All of us do. You know Steph does.”

A pause, everything falling silent, save for the snores coming from the guest bedroom, where Steph is asleep.

“I’m not missing your first day at WE,” she had said the night before. “So, you better wake me up before you leave.”

He grins a bit teasingly at a particularly loud snore. “Like a train, right?”

“Like you’re any better.”

“I am not that loud.”

“What is it with me and attracting people who snore?”

Honestly.

“Speaking of, you know Wally and Linda believe in you. You can do this. It’s just ‘cause it’s the first day. Get through it and everything will be better.”

Which is true. You know that. Have been repeating that in your head as today approached and your nerves grew in intensity.

But everything is easier in theory than in practice. 

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I know.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. “That’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here.”

“To knock some sense into me?”

“To do that gently,” he chuckles. 

“I don’t know. I might need the force.”

“Well, I can call Damian if you want.”

“I don’t need that much force… on a scale, maybe something like Linda.”

“It’s good thing she and Wally are going to be here soon for breakfast, then.”

For the same reason Steph spent the night and Tim dragged himself out of bed—for your first day of work.

For you. 

You pull him into a hug, overwhelmed at the thought and not at all caring about wrinkling your clothes. You can fix that. But this… this needs to be made known. 

“I love you.”

He squeezes you—gently, trying to mitigate any wrinkles, and the thought makes your heart swell with unbridled love—and kisses your temple. 

“I love you. We all do.”

And isn’t that something? 

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[butchcarmy]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 3: nightmares, pepto, and fire

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 1 ch 2 ch 4

Chapter Rating: M (7.9k)

Chapter Summary: Carmy can't run from how he feels anymore. His dreams, his conversations with his coworkers and friends, everything is forcing him to face reality. Upon being pushed to his limits, he will finally have to start to speak the truth.

content tags: wet dreams, repressed carmy (as per usual), self deprecation, mental illness

A/N: Carmy gets a wet dream AND a nightmare this chapter! I'm putting him through the ringer babes… I had a lot of fun with the drama, interactions, and imagery this time. Also fun fact, this is the end of what I refer to as "Act 1" in my notes! Act 1 consists of repressed Carmy to the max, barely even acknowledging his feelings… but that's gonna change after this chapter :) enjoy!

After a torturous day at work, one that makes his limbs feel like lead, Carmy is more than relieved to see the door to his apartment. 

Surprisingly, though, it swings open without him even touching it. He's too tired to think twice about it. He steps inside, and the first thing he sees is his roommate. They're dressed exclusively in a black apron, just like they were that other night.

“Hi, Carmy,” they say quietly, and their makeup is messy and dark just like that night they were trashed. He remembers how he felt the first time he saw them like that, because he feels it now. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he hears himself saying. 

They walk up to him, and suddenly, they're on top of him. Their hands press gently against his tense shoulders. His back hits his bed, pillows under his neck. 

“You snooped through my stuff, didn't you?” Their hands move behind them to drop their apron, revealing skin, skin, and more skin. It goes on forever. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles half-heartedly, distracted by their nakedness. 

“Hm. I don't think you're all that sorry, but…that's okay.” They drag their hand down the center of his chest, slowly, teasingly, lovingly. “I wanted you to see.”

A bottle of lube materializes in their hand. 

“You did?”

“I did,” they whisper. They uncap the lube with a low pop, and suddenly, their skin is shiny with it. Carmy runs his hand down their chest, squeezing, and it's slippery to the touch. “You wanna see what I like to do with this?”

“Please,” he whispers back, breathless, desperate for it. They smile, and it doesn't quite look like them. Heat circles in his gut nonetheless. 

“You're so sweet,” they say quietly. “I love that about you.”

He can't respond, not with the way they're touching him. Not that he can come up with a response to that. The pleasure is like fire under his skin, hot, alive, and painful.

“Don't say that,” he pleads, and it feels so good. 

“Why not? It's how I really feel about you.”

Their mouth is on his neck now. He can barely breathe. A part of him worries that there's gonna be lipstick marks he'll have to get off again, but he honestly couldn't care less. He'll go to work covered in lipstick marks if he has to. 

“Shut up,” he tries again, but it's even weaker this time. 

I'm gonna end up hurting you, he wants to say, but he can't.

“Don't you like how good I can make you feel?” They lean up to seal their lips against his, and smoke fills his mouth. He takes it in like water. The high hits him immediately, along with the spike in pleasure.

“I'm close,” he whispers, bucking against their hand.

“Me too.” They straddle his waist then, a playful look in their eye. “I know just the thing…”

Just as they go to unbutton his jeans, an alarm screams into his ear, and his eyes fly open to see his bedroom ceiling. 

Stunned, he slams his hand down to shut up his alarm. He lays there in the silence, slowly processing everything. From the moment he woke up, his heart's been racing.

He moves to sit up, get a sip of water, and that's when he feels how sticky his boxers feel. 

“Motherfucker,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn't even have any water on his nightstand, and he just came in his sleep for the first time since highschool. “Shit.”

The shame is too much. He has to sit there for several more minutes in silence before getting himself clean. 

There are no words to express the emotion he feels as he changes his boxers and wipes himself down. It's a strange mixture of guilt, shock, and lingering arousal. He needs to make sure he doesn't think about it at work unless he wants to walk around with an obvious bulge in his pants. 

You need to head into work so you can stop thinking about it, he tells himself, to which he agrees.

He does his best not to think about it on his way to work, which only garners minimal success. In other words, it's a spectacular failure. It's a miracle he doesn't clock in with a poorly concealed boner, but there are other factors. 

For one, his nausea. It crept up on him soon after waking up, and it looks like it's here to stay. It's fine, though, because he's used to his stomach being fucked. His brain is on fire and so is the rest of his body—just as usual. He'll just take some pepto when he gets to work.

Except that when he reaches for it on the bathroom shelf, there is no pepto bottle. That's when he remembers the way he chugged the rest of it the week before. So the nausea remains.

When he arrives, the comments about the lipstick mark being gone is unavoidable. His irritation is also naturally unavoidable. His sour mood does him no favors. However, in a twisted sort of luck, he realizes they're behind on far too many things, and he hones in, focuses on nothing else. Everyone else is too swamped with work to keep up the teasing. 

The lunch rush is expectedly awful, especially with the swelling tensions in the kitchen. Everyone gets through it with minimal screaming. 

Staying busy is supposed to help. Keeping himself occupied is supposed to help, but the moment the lunch rush ends, the nausea hits him at full blast.

“You look like shit,” Richie kindly tells him. A ‘fuck off’ sits on the tip of Carmy's tongue, but so does the feeling of bile, rising in his throat. “Wow, you really are sick, aren't you?” He remarks at Carmy's lack of response. 

In as little words as possible, Carmy relays to everyone he'll be in his office. 

He keeps the lights off and the door cracked as he falls back onto his chair. The world around him seems to settle like sand. It's been a while since he's dealt with nausea this bad. He counts that as a blessing in itself. 

The darkness and the quiet is nice. It relaxes his body. On the flipside, though, there's no noise to overpower the thoughts he's running from. 

He closes his eyes, and he sees imprints of his dream. He feels their mouth on his neck, their voice in his ear, their hand on his—

Carmy slaps a hand on his forehead. Then, he sighs, dragging it slowly down his face. His stomach twists inward into itself. 

He thinks about seeing his reflection in the mirror last night. His skin was free from the lipstick mark that everyone was relentlessly teasing him about. And yet, he was struck with a profound sense of disappointment. 

You liked seeing it there, a voice somewhere hidden in him whispers. 

Carmy really feels like throwing up now. 

He settles in the darkness for a while longer until a notification lights up his screen, briefly illuminating the room with a low white light. 

His first instinct is to groan and flip his phone face down, which he follows about halfway through until he sees the contact name. 

The text message is from the person haunting his dreams and his waking life. 

- hey thinking abt cooking chicken and rice tonite or something. u want some??

Just when he was able to get a break from thinking about them. Just like that, they're orbiting his brain again. 

Visions of them jacking him off aside, he's unsure what to say. He doubts he's gonna be able to get anything down today. This isn't the first time something like this has happened on his end.

> maybe tmrw, stomach is fucked today. ill take leftovers if u make some

- oh no :( feel better man. u got medicine?

> no but its ok, ill take some after work

- but thats so far away!

He can't help but smile, even if looking at the screen isn’t making his nausea any better.

> ill be ok. ill make it

He’ll make it because he has to. No one else is gonna run the place for him. That’s a part of what makes him stand up, take in a breath, and return to the kitchen. The other part is the familiar distant sound of arguing. He slips his phone in his back pocket, stands up, and gets back to work. No matter how begrudgingly it may be.     

A number of problems quickly make themselves clear to him. First, the toilet’s busted again. Two, the plumber won’t be here for another three days. Three, the cash register isn’t working. Four, the meat order got delayed. Carmy doesn’t even wanna start worrying about that last one yet with how awful it’s gonna be.

“When is Fak gonna get here?” Carmy asks Richie. They’re stationed at the front, taking the lack of customers while they can.

“He said he'd be here soon.” Richie's fucking with the aforementioned cash register. Carmy’s leaning against the counter, watching him aggressively jam receipt paper into the machine out of the corner of his eye. It's refusing to print receipts again. “He said to tell you to not get your hopes up. He's not a plumber.”

“I know, but he's got the best chance of fixing the thing.”

“I'm telling ya, if you just let me fuck around with it—”

“You don't know how to fix a toilet by watching youtube tutorials,” Carmy mutters.

“So you wanna have to keep going across the street to take a piss?”

“Cousin—this is my restaurant, not your goddamn apartment—”

“Alright, then be my fuckin’ guest—”

He's so in the middle of arguing that he doesn't even hear the bell on the door ring when it opens. 

“Look, Fak's gonna be here in a couple minutes,” Carmy says, pinching his eyebrows together, “and then you can fight it out like alphas or whatever the fuck you were saying. Okay? God—”

When he straightens up, pushing himself off the counter and turning back towards the front, the last person he expected to see stands right in front of him.

They've got this bashful smile on their face, and their cheeks are flushed from the cold. Their hair sticks out from their beanie in a way that Carmy insists is not cute at all. Not one bit, not even the way it's messy when they yank it off. 

He also insists to himself that the color on their cheeks doesn't remind him of his dream. Not at all. Not even a little bit. No way. No matter how much the visuals are rampaging in his brain. 

“I was sorta worried I wasn't in the right place,” they admit. 

“What're you doing here?” Carmy blurts out, even though he immediately recognizes it for how rude it is. 

“Uh—” Nerves flash across their face. They hold up a little paper bag. “Sorry for just showing up, I just wanted to bring you some things.”

“No—don't apologize, I shouldn't have just…” He trails off, unable to find the words. He studies the bag in their hand. “Sorry. What did you bring?” He asks, softer this time. 

“I know this might be a bit much,” they clarify nervously. They walk up the counter and set the bag down before him. “It's just, you were saying that you weren't feeling well, and I was in the area doing some shopping…”

Carmy reaches inside and pulls out several things. The items reveal themselves to be a small, green bottle of papaya pills, a little bag of ginger candies, and most importantly, a bottle of bubblegum pink pepto bismol.

As he stares at the items, a tiny flower blossoms in his chest.

“You really didn't have to get all this,” he says softly after a beat of silence. He stares at the items for a moment longer before looking up at them. There's an odd feeling in his chest. 

“I wanted to. Seriously.” They still look oddly bashful, and it's captivating. “I mean, you helped me out a ton the other night, so…”

“You didn't owe me anything.” 

“Then consider it a gift.” Their smile so effortlessly dazzles him. “Unless I can't give you gifts?”

“Yeah—I mean, no, you—” Carmy fails to stifle a quiet laugh at how ridiculous he sounds. They so easily fluster him. “Thank you,” he says finally, remembering himself. “This is…really nice.”

“I hope it helps,” they reply, and he tells himself the color on their cheeks is still from the cold. He tells himself that they're the one that looked into his eyes first, so it's okay for him to look back. “If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you,” he says again. 

They're beautiful, he thinks all of a sudden, and the thought is so potent he can't hide from it for a single second. His anxiety tells him that they're gonna hear his thoughts if he keeps thinking so loudly. The bliss of tracing his eyes over their features is worth it. He's not sure if he feels any less nauseous, staring at their darling face like this, but he can't deny he likes the way this feels. His chest aches.

Then, the obnoxious noise of someone clearing their throat reminds him that they're not alone. 

“Cousin.” Carmy's head whips around. How could he forget that Richie was right there? It's incredible how silent Richie could be when he wants to. “You gonna introduce us?”

“Shit, right, uh—” Carmy fumbles, making a hand motion with no words to match. “This is my cousin Richie. And Richie, this is, uh, my roommate.”

Oh, how he's dreaded saying those words for reasons he will see in just a matter of seconds. 

“So you're the roommate!” Richie makes a big show of it, eyebrows raised in dramatic shock. 

“Yeah, that's me.” They shrug. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Can't believe you're roomin’ with this guy,” Richie says, slapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder. It is promptly shoved off. “Carmen's not an easy guy to be around, I know.”

“Oh, not at all! He's a great roommate.” Carmy feels the tips of his ears growing warm. 

“Really?” Richie gives him a skeptical look. “Who would've guessed.”

“Fuck off,” Carmy snaps, but the way he mumbles makes it lack any intensity. 

They don’t stay for long. Something about needing to run some more errands. A part of Carmy wants to keep them there somehow, although there’s no logical reason for that. If anything, the faster they’re out, the better. It gives Richie less time to say something scathing that ruins their perception of Carmy. 

Not that you need any help fucking yourself over, Carmy thinks to himself distantly. 

“Well, I hope the stuff helps.” They readjust their beanie on their head, pulling it over their ears. “I’ll see you at home?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” he replies. “Thanks again.” 

“No problem. Bye!”

They wave to him and Richie as they leave. As soon as the bell above the door rings and they’re out of sight, Carmy feels Richie’s eyes on him. 

Actually, he feels a number of eyes on him. 

He turns around to see his fellow chefs peeking over the deli counter, standing in a row like a line of matryoshka dolls. They freeze when they see him, but they don’t make any move to run away. Absolutely remorseless. 

“Back to your stations, chefs,” Carmy scolds them, but his meak words are quickly overtaken by noise. 

“If the two of you aren’t dating, then what the fuck is this?” Richie picks up the paper bag full of medicine. “That was some sappy shit the two of you were pulling!”

“The two of you? What the fuck did I do?” Carmy spits back. 

“What the fuck did I do,” Richie imitates, rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ goo-goo eyes over here wants to know what the fuck he was doing.” Carmy snatches the bag out of his hand.

“You were makin’ goo-goo eyes at them,” Marcus agrees. His elbows are propped up on the glass counter. 

“And if they’re bringing you medicine, it’s serious,” Tina adds with a sly grin. 

“There’s nothing to be serious about,” Carmy insists. He feels like a broken record. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends that kiss each other,” Sydney comments. “Right. Of course.” 

“We don’t—I’ve never—” He’s a tea kettle, and the lid on him is starting to rattle. “Chefs—”

“Cousin, loosen up already. Why you always gotta make shit so serious?” Richie throws an arm around his shoulder, but Carmy shoves it off. 

“Because this shit is none of your fuckin’ business. That goes for all of you!” Carmy whips around, gesturing accusingly with his hand at the line of chefs. “Get back to work! Now!”

A sad chorus of “Yes, chef” resounds, and everyone despondently trickles back to their stations. All except for Richie, who is not a chef. 

“They’re obviously into you,” Richie tries, and Carmy’s glare could burn two perfect circles into his face. 

“Drop it,” he hisses. 

“Why’re you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like a little bitch? You’re a pussy, Carmen. That’s what you are. A pussy—”

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“No. Y’know what? I actually do have a clue, because I know you, Berzatto. You act like all that shit’s above you, but it’s not. And I’m tryin’ to do you a favor—”

“A favor? What fucking favor?” 

“I’m trying to help you get a fucking clue! That’s what! Because you’re too dense to see what’s right in front of you!”

“Richie, I happen to be doing just fine without your help. I don’t need whatever the fuck you think helping me is!”

“Then explain this to me. Explain this little thing to me, Carmen fucking Berzatto. You and Claire—”

“Richie. Don’t.”

“That could’ve been a good thing. A great thing. The two of you—”

“I told you—”

“You were obviously into each other, and yet—”

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!” 

There’s a rage threatening to spew out of him, lava coursing under his skin and in his head. Richie’s looking at him like he knows he’s right, but he’s not. He’s not right about Carmy. He’s not right about anything. Not about any of this. 

“Fak is on the scene! What is up, guys?” 

With comedic (or arguably tragic) timing, Fak bursts through the front door with his heavy tool bag on one hand. Carmy and Richie’s heads both snap to him when he arrives. Fak freezes in his steps. 

“Fak,” Carmy says. 

“Finally,” Richie mutters. “Slow ass.” 

“Uh…I’m getting the impression I shouldn’t be here right now. Should I be here right now?” Fak takes a step back towards the door. 

“Yes, I really need you to look at the toilet,” Carmy says. Richie is uncharacteristically quiet, but Carmy can’t stand to look at him. 

“If you say so.” Fak shrugs. “What’s the damage?” 

“Mild to severe, depending on how you look at it,” is Carmy’s dry response. 

The rest of the day, Carmy operates on autopilot. When he finally remembers to open the bottle of pepto, nausea surges in him at the sight of it. He manages to force it down. Miraculously, the toilet gets fixed, and even more miraculously, no one mentions the roommate again. Not even Richie. Although Carmy does sense how badly he wants to bring it up again. 

His stomach continues its incessant rampage throughout the rest of the day. Despite improving since the pepto, it’s still generally upset. This nausea leads him back to his care package again and again throughout the rest of the day. 

The ginger candies have a sharp flavor, maybe even a bit too much, but the sharpness grounds him. It also does admittedly dim the nausea. He wonders why he’s never bothered to keep him on his person. 

“Chef?” Carmy’s cleaning his station when he hears Syd next to him. It could only be her, anyway—the sun has set, and everyone else has gone home for the day. He perks his head up to see her concerned expression. 

“Chef,” he acknowledges back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “Nothing wrong with me, I mean. I was actually wondering if, uh, you were okay?”

“Me?” The question surprises him. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Stomach’s better, so…”

“Oh, good.” She nods. “Stuff your roommate gave you working?”

“Yeah. It is.” He rolls the candy around on his tongue. “Hand me my knife?”

“Yeah.” She slides it over to him. “And, uh, I just wanted to say—I don’t mean to be nosy. I really don’t. Earlier, everyone was just gathered over the counter, and—”

“It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to see what the commotion was about—”

“Really, it’s fine,” he repeats, firmly. “They’re just like that, anyway.”

“I—Okay. Okay.” She exhales. “It’s just—y’know. I don’t wanna be an ass. I just…”

“You weren’t. You’re not.”

“I’m just…wondering about one thing.”

“...Yeah?”

“Why have you never invited them to family?”

“Family?” This question surprises him even more than the last. “Well, family’s for…family. Just the workers.”

“I mean, yeah. But, like, sometimes it’s not, right? Like, you let Marcus’ roommate come last week.”

“Marcus was on family anyway.”

“Sure. Right. You let me bring my friend recently, though.”

“You wanted to show her where you worked, didn’t you?” 

“And Fak has family with us almost, like, all the time.”

“Fak is Fak,” Carmy reasons, and Sydney can’t argue with that. 

“I don’t mean to be an ass,” she repeats. “I’m just curious.”

Right, he thinks. She asked a question. Why have I never brought them to family?

He’s never even considered it before. Bringing them to family. It’s not a habit to bring outsiders in, for lack of better wording, but it’s not necessarily off-limits, either. He doesn’t actually  mind when others bring people in. He trusts them not to bring in anyone stupid. Mostly. As for himself…

He’s never had anyone in his life to bring before. Ever. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I guess I just never thought about it.”

“Huh.”

“Wouldn’t it be…weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know,” he says again, “I just…I just thought…” He sighs. “I didn’t wanna deal with Richie, but…”

“Little too late for that,” Sydney notes in amusement. 

“Little too late,” he echoes. 

“Well. I was just curious. Sorry if that was weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” He jokes, imitating her from earlier. 

“Shut up,” she shoots back with a grin. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s fine. It’s not weird.” He pauses for a moment, thinking about Richie. “Everyone else is an ass about it. Not you, though.”

“I try.” She grins. “I…I think everyone just gets excited because…it’s different. Seeing you with someone else like that.”

“Mm.” Carmy nods, and then pauses again. Lets it sink in. “Do I…” I shouldn’t ask this, he thinks, but he’s already started. It’s too late. “...Do I act differently?”

“Around them? Yeah. A little.”

“...” Carmy straightens up, taking a step back from his station. This is starting to feel weird. Really weird. “I do?”

“Kinda. You just seem…calmer, I think.” Sydney’s expression seems uncomfortable. “I dunno.”

“No, it’s fine. It was a dumb thing to ask.” Carmy’s making the executive decision to stop talking about this. “I gotta stay and sort through some stuff in the office, but you should head out for the night.”

“What, can’t afford to pay me overtime?” Sydney teases. Carmy rolls his eyes. 

“Partially,” he jokes back, although it’s not much of a joke. 

Nevertheless, it is almost 10 pm, so Sydney does indeed head out for the night. The whole place is eerily silent without anyone else there. There’s the sound of the rattling AC unit, noisy plumbing, and passing cars, but there’s a distinct lack of sizzling pans, knives against cutting boards, and shouting. It just feels strange, is all. 

Carmy barely remembers to replace the bottle of pepto in the bathroom before heading out. He puts the new bottle there on the shelf, and as he stares at it standing there, he considers putting other gifts there too. 

He returns to his office where the small bag of ginger candies and bottle of papaya pills sits. They’re seated on the corner of his desk. He goes to grab them, but for some reason, he doesn’t. They look like they belong there. 

Then consider it a gift, he remembers them saying earlier. Unless I can’t give you gifts? If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it, he hears them saying again.

A certain possessiveness grips him then.

It was a gift, he tells himself. For me. No one else.

He decides to leave the candies and pills on his desk. Those will be just for him. 

When he finally gets home, it’s almost 12 am. He does his best to open the door carefully, but it’s as squeaky as ever. 

He’s greeted with a surprising, although not unusual sight. His roommate is curled up into a sleep ball on the couch, snuggled into the pillows and blankets. The tv is playing some youtube video essay about lost media from the early 2000s. All the lights in the apartment are off, leaving the only source of illumination to be the tv screen. 

Carmy carefully moves to turn the tv off. After he does, he turns to see if he’s woken them up. He hasn’t. They’re still in deep sleep. Very deep sleep, rather, with how they’re lightly snoring.  

That familiar ache he gets in his chest when he sees them makes itself known. It’s the ache that pulls him in, forcing him to sit on the floor next to the couch. It’s something beyond his will that makes him gaze at their peacefully sleeping face. 

His eyes trace their features like he was earlier when they stopped by The Beef, except this time, much more unabashedly. He takes note of the faint blemishes on their cheeks, the loose strands of hair in their face. The squish of their cheek against the pillows. 

Cute, he thinks to himself, not for the first time, and he’s too tired to push the feeling away. 

You’re different around them, he hears Sydney saying. Calmer.

I don’t know about that, he thinks. He absentmindedly brings a hand to brush their loose hairs out of their face. I don’t know how I feel when I’m around you. 

A part of him wonders if he should wake them up. The part of him that wins is the part that doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful look on their face. He wouldn’t want to upset them. 

He trudges into his bed instead, flopping wearily onto his mattress. It’s been a taxing day, right down to the moment he woke up this morning. His mind and body were both in shambles, and now, he’s exhausted.  

As he falls asleep, he distantly hopes for a dreamless night. 

. . . . .

“Where’s the olive oil? The pan’s heated. I need to start cooking the beef.”

Carmy stands before a pristine stainless steel pan. Next to him on the counter sits stuffed beef carefully wrapped in twine—beef braciole. 

“Guys,” he repeats, annoyed. “Guys, have you seen the olive oil?”

He turns to see Michael and his roommate sitting at a kitchen island. They’re both opening cans of San Marzano tomatoes, although it’s definitely not a two person job. 

“We haven’t seen it, Carmen,” Michael says. “Anyway, like I was saying—you should’ve seen his face. Really! When I told him I couldn’t work at the restaurant, it’s like I told him our dog died or something.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” his roommate remarks, snickering and shaking their head. “Such a baby.”

Next to them, Carmy spots the bottle of olive oil. With a scowl, he snatches it. 

“Hurry up on those tomatoes, guys, I’m gonna need it real soon,” he reminds them, irritation growing. 

With the bottom of the pan coated in olive oil, he carefully places the beef into the pan. The sizzle is strangely whistle-like and high pitched. He inhales, searching for the smell of cooking meat and garlic, but he can’t seem to smell anything at all. 

“Did he cry?” They ask. 

“No, but he looked like he was going to,” Michael sneers, and the two of them are laughing again. 

“You wouldn’t wanna work with a guy like Carmy, anyway.”

“Exactly. Exactly. He doesn’t really get it, y’know. How much of a colossal fuck-up he is. I can see it in him, though. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then.”

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you. He probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

“He has no idea! And he thinks he’s fooling everyone so well, but the thing is—”

“He’s not.”

“He’s not! He’s really not.”

“Chefs, I need the tomato puree. Hand it over,” Carmy interrupts abruptly. When there’s no response, he turns around. They haven’t even opened one can of tomatoes yet. “Are you two fucking serious?”

They look at him, eyes wide, and then they’re laughing so hard they’re crying. They’re doubled over the counter, cackling and kicking their feet. 

“You’re too easy to fuck with, Carmen,” Michael gets out between chuckles. “You’ve always been like that.”

Carmy ignores him and reaches for a can of tomatoes. 

“Give me the fucking can opener,” Carmy snaps.

“Oh, you won’t need it,” his roommate answers.

As soon as Carmy grabs a can, it explodes in his face.

Puréed San Marzano tomatoes fill his hand and drip from his hair into his eyes. He steps back, staggered from the red explosion. Somehow it got all over him and  not on anything else.

“Fucking shit!” He wipes his eyes, and that’s when he remembers the beef. He rushes back to the pan. It needs tomato purée now. He lets the splattered tomato drip from his hands into the pan, filling it with sauce. It sizzles and smells like smoke.

“I could always see you for who you really were, y’know. I always knew,” Michael goes on. “I could always see it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Carmy snaps. The growing anxiety in his stomach is tightening his body and ejecting the words out. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s saying that you’re just not a good person. That’s all,” his roommate reasons. Carmy tries to keep his eyes focused on the beef, hastily spooning tomato over it. The pan’s still filling with puree. It’s overflowing. “You’re just the sort of person who will never change. Once broken, always broken, y’know what I mean?”

“If you’re not going to help, then fucking leave!” Carmy snaps, finally. He whirls around and wipes all the cans onto the floor. They explode in glorious unison, staining the floors red. “Just get out and stop getting in my fucking way!”

“But you don’t want me to leave, do you?”

“I don’t care what you do, I just need to finish this—“

“No, you care. You care if I like or hate you. You care if I stay or leave. You care about me, Carmy. You really care about me.”

“I don’t fucking care about you. I never have, and I never will.”

The beef’s burning on the pan. It’s all burning.

“Oh, Carmy…” Their arms are wrapped around his torso, squeezing him in a gentle hug. “It’s too late for you to say that sort of thing. Not anymore.”

All of a sudden, there’s a gush of wetness that soaks through his shirt. He pulls back, and their mouth is oozing tomato puree. In an instant, Carmy knows they’re dying.

“Fuck,” Carmy curses. “Fuck!”

“This is what happens,” they say, gargling through mouthfuls of puree.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because it’s you,” they answer, and Carmy wakes up.

He wakes up stumbling back from the stove by someone pulling on his shirt. The stove has pots and pans filled with flaming frozen food. He can feel the blazing heat against his skin. The orange flames are flicking off the steel pans and arch towards the ceiling, reaching. As Carmy stumbles back, he falls to the floor, barely managing to steady himself with the palms of his hands.

There’s the familiar sound of the fire extinguisher, spraying out into the base of the fire. Propped up on his elbows, Carmy watches the fire shrink with a thumping heart. His heartbeat marches in time with the tune of the fire alarm, piercing and high-pitched throughout the apartment. 

Carmy finally takes notes of his roommate, looking about as distressed as someone who just woke up to a fire in their own home. Their hair sticks up in several different directions as if they just woke up, which they…probably did. With a displeased grunt, they march over to the window to slam it open. The cloudy smoke compacted near the ceiling begins to trickle out. 

“Fucking hell,” they mutter under their breath, coughing from the smoke. They turn around to look at Carmy, expression twisted with stress. “Dude. What was that?”

“I,” Carmy starts, but the words just won’t come. He tries to move to get up, but his legs aren’t moving. 

“Carmy. Hey.” They lean down next to him, staring him in the eyes. He still doesn’t respond. “Carmen!” They snap, and he jolts. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he gets out. They help him up, wrapping his hand in theirs and yanking him upwards. 

“We should step outside while the smoke clears.” They cough as they move to grab their coat. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be gone in a couple minutes,” Carmy hears himself saying. He’s met with a blank stare. 

“So this has happened to you before?” They open their mouth, as if they’re about to say something else, but they shake their head. “No, we’re not staying in here. We may smoke everyday, but this isn’t good for us. C’mon.” 

He doesn’t quite feel his body moving as he grabs his wool jacket. He doesn’t feel it as he walks down the stairs, not even when he steps outside and the chilled night air whips at his face. He feels far, far away. 

After leaving the awful song of the fire alarm, the quiet of the night is uncharacteristically loud. If he listens closely, though, he can pick out the sound of their fire alarm, distantly ringing. Or maybe that’s just his tinnitus. 

The clicking sound of a lighter is what recenters him. He looks to his side to see them shakily holding a lighter up to their cigarette. After a couple more sparks, the flame lights.

They take a slow pull of it before wordlessly handing it to him. An olive branch of sorts. He takes it. They let the pool of smoke sit in their mouth, and then they exhale with a heavy, heavy sigh. 

“What happened back there, man?” They ask quietly. “That was…” They sigh again. “That scared the shit out of me,” they whisper, and that’s what makes it all finally settle in. 

Fuck, Carmy realizes with a pang. The realization starts in the pit of his stomach and drops lower and lower. Feeling returns to his body, and he feels cold inside and out. I really fucked up.

He can just imagine it—him, dead on his feet, sleepwalking into the kitchen. Grabbing the frozen food out of the freezer and turning the stove on high. Cooking nonsensically with plastic-wrapped chicken breasts and frozen peas. Too fucking asleep to stop the fire from starting, to stop the fire alarm that woke up his sleeping roommate on the couch.

“I used to sleepwalk, sometimes. When I was at culinary school,” he clarifies nervously. Shame douses him, coating him evenly like oil on a pan. “Or, sleepcook, I guess.”

He passes the cigarette back to them. They take it. 

“Shit,” they mutter. “Never heard of anyone doin’ that before.” 

“...Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of them are silent for a while before they speak again. 

“Carmy—why didn’t you tell me? That you—” They laugh dryly, full of irritation. He doesn’t like seeing anger on their face, hearing it in their voice. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard them sound like this before. “That you’re prone to cooking in your sleep? Don’t you think that’s something I should know? As your roommate?”

“I—I didn’t mean to hide it,” he protests, even though he did.

“We could’ve really gotten hurt, y’know.”

“You’re right, I know, it’s just—it hadn’t happened in so long, so I just thought that I had, that I was…”

I thought I was getting better, he wants to say, but it’s stuck in his throat. It won’t come out. As per usual, he can’t get the words out. 

It always stays the same. 

“...” Strangely enough, their face  softens. “Must’ve been scary the first time.”

“What?” He wasn’t expecting their anger to dissipate so easily.

“The first time you caught yourself cooking your sleep. Were they all like this? With the fire and stuff?”

“Yeah. All the fire and stuff,” he confirms bitterly. A beat of silence. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. You shouldn’t have had to…put out a fire I made.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay you almost burned our place down, but…” The end of the cigarette sizzles, bright and orange as they inhale. “It’s not like you did it on purpose, did you?” 

“Of course not,” he rushes to say, “I would never—”

“I’m just kidding with you,” they laugh. They exchange the cigarette again. “I know you didn’t.”

Impossible, Carmy thinks all of a sudden. The nicotine usually calms him, except not today. Not right now. This is impossible.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Carmy blurts out. He can’t compute seeing a smile on their face right now. 

“I am,” they say calmly. 

“Then why? Why are you—” There’s static in his head, fuzz filling his mouth. “Why aren’t you—you should be—fucking, I don’t know—why aren’t you yelling?”

“Do you want me to be shouting at you?” 

“No! I don’t want that, I just—I just don’t understand.” There’s blood rushing in his ears. “I fucked up, so just—just get it over with already!” 

“I—get what over with?”

“Just tell me that I’m a worthless piece of shit and that you were wrong for ever seeing anything good in me,” he spits out. His eyes feel hot. He doesn’t know where all these words are coming from. “I know you want to say it, so just get it over with. Please.”

A moment of silence, broken by the drive by of a car.

“...Is that really how you think I see you?”

“How could you not?” He laughs bitterly, shakes his head. Images of Michael flash in his head. “I’ve just somehow managed to convince you that I’m worth your time. I don’t know how, but…” Frustration surges inside of him. “But now you know,” he says, finally. 

So this is how it ends, he thinks to himself. I knew it couldn’t last. Nothing ever lasts. 

We’ll call it The Bear, he hears himself saying. Michael and him at Christmas. The drawing he made of the restaurant. 

Michael’s dead, he hears Sugar sobbing over the phone. Her voice is crackly and broken through the speakers. Please come home. Please.

You didn’t even show up for your brother fuckin’ funeral, he hears Richie screaming. Your own fucking brother, Carmen! What the ever living fuck is wrong with you?

This is great, Carmy, Michael says softly to him, the gifted drawing of their restaurant in his hands. The house is on fire. There's so much fire. Thank you.

They don’t say anything for a while, opting to instead smoke their cigarette and stare distantly across the street. When they finally turn to look at him, their gaze pierces him. It’s that look that strips him bare, lays his soul out open for them to pick apart. 

“You’re allowed to mess up on onions,” they say. 

“...What?” Is all he can think to reply. 

“When I was drunk, you told me about how you dropped some onions.”

“No, I remember, I just—why are you saying that now?”

“Because this fire is the same.” They tap the ash off their cigarette, the gray dust shattering in the wind. “People make mistakes, Carmy. It’s okay.”

“This is a lot worse than spilling some onions,” he reasons weakly. They just shrug. 

“Objectively speaking, sure. I can’t deny that. But that’s not really what I’m trying to say…” They hesitate. “Can I speak plainly?”

“Please,” Carmy begs. 

Two cars whiz by before they speak again. 

“I can’t change how you see yourself,” they start. “I’m the same way. I think almost everyone is. I know I can’t make you less hard on yourself. If anything, that’s part of what made you into such an incredible chef.” They exhale shakily. “But this…with me…I don’t want it to push me away.”

“...I don’t want you to get hurt,” he confesses, messily. This isn’t like him, but he can’t seem to stop talking. I care about you too much, he thinks painfully.  

“It’s impossible to go through life without hurting others. Look—I consider you a friend, Carmy. A good friend. And I thought you felt the same, but…”

“I do,” he interrupts urgently. “You’re one of the closest friends I have,” he confesses, and their smile is beautiful. 

…I didn’t mean to say all that, he thinks, startled by himself. That was supposed to be, “I think of you as a friend, too.” 

“Then fuck up some onions. You don’t have to be a perfect person. No one can be, and I don’t want you to be. Besides—I’m not stupid. You’re not tricking me about anything. I’m pretty good at making sound judgments of people.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were stupid,” he says quietly. 

“I know you didn’t.” They keep being gentle, so gentle. 

“I…I’m not used to this,” he admits, finally. He needs to be honest with them, regardless if saying the truth is  like coughing up glass. “You're a good person. Really good. More than I'm used to, to be honest. I think…I think a part of me doesn't wanna believe it.”

“Oh.” Their pink cheeks could very well be from the cold, or from something else. “I—well. Thank you. That's nice to hear. But, ah, do you think I have some dark alter ego or something?”

“No, not like that. It’s just—there’s always another shoe, isn’t there?”

“Another shoe…” They hum. “Yeah. Unless there isn’t.”

“That’d be a first,” he says, and they laugh. 

“True enough.” The distant sound of the train. “I'm not a perfect person, Carmy.”

“I know. I don't expect that.”

“Then stop expecting it from yourself.”

“...” He blinks, staggered by their bluntness. A million arguments begin and die on the tip of his tongue, but all of them feel as cheap as the last. He knows they're right, and there's not much room for argument there. “I'll try,” he says finally with a nod. It's all he can say.

“I say it like it's an easy thing to do. I know it's not.” Their smile is knowing, rueful. “I certainly haven't gotten over it myself.”

“You also…?” The implication lays silent in the air. They nod. “I’m sorry for starting a fire,” he apologizes again, because he feels like he has to. “And for…freaking out.”

“You are forgiven. But you don’t need to apologize for, like, having emotions. That’s fucked up.” They let out an abrupt bark of a laugh, and it makes him laugh, too. “Is it, like, a stress thing? The sleepcooking?”

You’re worthless, he suddenly hears a familiar voice saying. The head chef. You’d be better off dead. You don't deserve any of this.

“Usually,” he says simply. “I can’t really…predict when it’s gonna happen, though.”

“Unfortunate. I guess it’d be too easy if you could see it coming.” They put out their cigarette on the back of their lighter, flicking off the ash. “How are you doing now?”

“I’m fine,” he responds  instantly, all on instinct. “I’m…better,” he amends, and they look happy with that. “I should be asking you that. Are you alright?”

“Not gonna lie, it was pretty scary, but I’m okay. I can look back at it as a bonding experience.”

“A bonding experience,” Carmy mutters, half out of amusement and half out of disbelief. “I guess you’re not totally wrong.”

“Nobody got hurt, right? And next time, I'll be ready.”

“There shouldn't be a next time.”

“No, I suppose not. But there might be, and that's okay.”

“But—“ He stops. “I'm sorry.”

“I know.” They pat his back. 

“Do you wanna come to family tomorrow?” He blurts out. 

“Huh?” They say, which is a pretty reasonable response. “I mean, probably. What is it?”

“Right, sorry. It's, uh, a thing we do everyday at work. One of the chefs cooks dinner for everyone, and we eat together. It's a way to, ah…have everyone get along, I guess.”

“Oh, cool!”

“And I'll be the one cooking tomorrow,” he adds hastily. God, why is this so embarrassing? “So. Yeah. If you wanna come, then…”

“You mean I get to have your cooking? Of course I wanna come,” they reply, their expression brightening. Carmy's stomach twists inward, giddy. “Oh my god, yeah. As long as it's not weird that I'm there?”

“Not weird,” he promises. “We bring people all the time. Not too many, of course.”

Except for me, he thinks. I barely even eat family enough as it is, let alone ever bringing everyone. You're the only one.

“Okay. Okay!” They make a pleased noise, stepping excitedly in place. “Then I accept. What time should I come?”

“We eat before opening, so come in around 2. The door should be open.”

“Sounds good.” They stop then, fixing him with a puzzled, amused look. “You're not just doing this because of what just happened, are you? Although I guess it'd be cool if you were—”

“I'm not, I'm not. I just…wanted to.” He's not being very convincing. To be fair, it's only half of a lie. “But I will. Make this up to you, I mean.”

“I'm just teasing. You don’t have to, but I won’t stop you. And…thanks for inviting me, I'm looking forward to it.” They yawn suddenly, eyes scrunching shut. “Think we're good to head back in now?”

“Probably, yeah.” He checks his phone. It's 1 AM. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“It's fine, really. Besides, I did this to you the other night. And, uh—Carmy?”

“...Yeah?”

“I'm really glad you think of me as a friend,” they say, and it sounds like a confession. “I feel super lucky to have a roommate that I can call my friend, too. I…just wanted to say that. 

There are countless unspoken sentiments that Carmy wishes he had the courage, the faith to say. I didn't know how important you were going to become to me, for instance. I don't know if I can go without your company anymore. I’m not sure if I've ever liked someone so much, and that terrifies me. I never wanted to admit how much I like you.

It's too much, far too much to say aloud, but at least, finally, he can admit it to himself.

It does not always have to stay the same.

“I feel really lucky, too,” Carmy says instead, and the words come easy, easier than they ever have before.

~

@zorrasucia

[dummie-writes]

the party walkers

self insert ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 4.38k

previous part: a rescue mission

note: heyyyyy guyssss I'm back. the rot consumed (the rot is sbg), and even though it took longer, I have a chapter for you :3 also, if you guys would like a tag list, lemme know? I've never really done a long term fan fiction over tumblr, so, uh, yeah? also if you wanna be on the tag list but don't wanna follow me, that's absolutely fine. I don't mind either way lol. just lemme know. anyway, I hope you enjoy :D thanks for your patience

iii. over a horizon, somewhere

the air in the hallway smells like dust and makes your skin crawl with chill. as your eyes dart to and from everywhere you can see, your breathing again is as silent as you can make it. you've had to practice breathing invisibly way too much for your liking. you're lucky this house is the same layout as your real life home, because even though everything has gone to shit, at least you were able to check which parts of the floor creak over here. did your parents give you an odd look for shifting your weight and stepping on and off seemingly random parts of the floor? maybe. but if a weird look was the price of survival, it was cheap and worth buying.

your foot was so light on that first step that you almost thought you hadn't actually put it down. no noise - good. actually, you hadn't seen or heard any of what everyone else had been referring to as phantoms in a good while. probably a night or two - mainly because you weren't looking to escape, you, we're just trying to survive at that point. you felt kind of stupid, not being able to buy proper medical supplies for your bathroom to take care of your injury - but you didn't have an independent credit card, and your parents could see all your purchases. they were kinda weird, they didn't like letting you access your money. it was obnoxious. and deadly, and this case.

but that was beside the point right now.

you had gotten to your bedroom door, which was torn entirely off of its hinges, splinters of poorly painted wooden fibers scattered thoughtlessly in the carpet. peeking inside revealed no monster, not from you could see, at least. to further muffle your footsteps, you had worn thick socks to bed. your shoes were in your backpack, and you wouldn't have time to put them on until you got to… wherever their base was? they never actually explained it. just said something about a bus. but, that's ashlyn banner for you.

(it's not, actually, she had wanted to go much more into depth on it, but you all had gotten so busy making a plan to not die that the specifics of the place got muddled.)

your backpack was neatly placed on you bed, where you had left it before “falling asleep”. you wasted no time in tip toeing to your closet and grabbing all the jackets you could find, throwing them on to save space before swinging your bag on both shoulders, tying the loose adjustable ends together to secure it, even if just slightly. grabbing all the blankets you could before you left, your next destination was the kitchen. your mom had stocked up on lunachbles the other day! this made things convenient for you, so you grabbed as many as you could, stuffing them in your pockets. glancing out the window for a second, the street is an eerie quiet. the sky, red, per… well, per what you assume would be usual. stranded vehicles in their driveway, the pavement unbothered by time.

a head appears in the window, upside-down as it swings like a pendulum on top of the roof.

“OH MY G- aiden! what the fuck!”

“haha got you.”

despite your shaking hands and the buzzing of surprise in your legs, you open your window, pushing out the screen and pulling the blonde in as quickly as you could manage.

“what are you doing here? you guys aren't supposed to be here for another ten or so?”

“I got sent ahead to make sure you weren't alone if something attacked you,” he says with a wide smile. as goofy as aiden can be at times, he has yet to not be on your side in this situation. his nose wrinkles in the slightest way when he grins like that. his odd smile freaks you out sometimes, honestly, but right now it brings you more comfort than anything else.

“oh. ashlyn let you go? like, alone? without ben?”

“no, lol, I sent me. I was getting bored.”

this earns him a dumbfounded blink, and then you sigh, pinching your nose as you open your mouth to criticize his poor decision.

“duck!”

some sort of primal instinct pushes you down, the hair on the back of your neck prickling as a collectable figurine goes flying through the air, and the hiss of pain behind you let's you know that something has found you.

“shitshitshitshitshitshitshit-” you're skittering to the window before your brain actually loads in to the situation, and it does when you're halfway through the window. aiden secures his stance, like he's about to fight this thing! that idiot!

you grab his arm, pulling him backward as hard as you can, hearing his shoulder pop and a small “ow :(“ as the two of you clamber through the opening. the imprint of the window frame leaves a red cent in your shoulder, and you hiss as you fall onto your back. aiden rolls his shoulder back without missing a beat, his lips now pulled back into the more energetic lines they usually are. he pops up, putting his palms flat on the glass and pulling down, closing it.

“fuck! are you okay?”

“yeah I'm good.”

well, that was that, then. you stand there for a moment, your hands on your knees as you pant, trying to relax the tension in your legs from a moment before. you didn't actually have much time, you guys needed to get out of there. your fingers weakly paw at the spilled items on the floor from your backpack, which tore when you guys fell out of your room. stuffing what you could back into it, someone grabs your arm and pulls you up before you even look at who it is. your other arm swings back, your gaze shaking as you hear a deeper voice, tyler's, specifically, gasp and pull back, rubbing his cheek.

“you guys need to not do that, oh my gosh.”

tyler sharply looks at you, eyebrows scrunched up in irritation, before his face gravitates to look at aiden in the same manner. “you are in such big trouble, that annie wanna-be is worried. and also pissed. really, really pissed.”

aiden mocks a shocked face.

“omg she's worried about me?? I knew she cared.”

tyler is unimpressed by this to say the least, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to your feet, holding your shoulder stiffly as he examines you, making sure your not injured. for the first time, you notice the softness in his eyes and cheeks, and while his hand is holding you still, it isn't too tight as to hurt you. he's being.. gentle. which you haven't actually ever noticed from him. you take the time to look him over too, for the same reason. regular scratches and bruises, but nothing to be all too concerned about. his hair looks so soft, does he use taylor's hair supplies? it's very well taken care of. a thought pops into your head.

“oh, yeah, by the way, I got a-”

“there they areee,” aiden cheers, his smile lacing his voice. turning your head, you see ashlyn, logan, taylor and a mildly panicked looking ben running to the three of you. the green eyed girl runs up to you, her eyebrows high as she scans you the same way tyler did. “you okay?”

you nod a confirmation, and she deflates with relief before turning to aiden. “could you not? you freaked everyone out! you're lucky a phantom didn't find you on the way here!” her hands are squishing up her hair as she gives the blonde a blank stare, and then cringes. she looks nauseous for a second, and then looks toward the house. her hands now covering her ears.

“... unless… a phantom.. did, find you on your way here?”

“haha, no, that would be silly. it was already in the house-”

the gray creature darts around the corner, and a chorus of screams and shoes pounding the dirt as you guys start running as fast as possible, ashlyn leading the charge. your chests are heaving, you feel your mouth drying up and salivating all at ones, and your head is pounding with your heart.

looking beside you is your newfound party, you find that everyone has weapons that you didn't really notice before now. you feel the taddest bit useless if you're being totally honest. making a few random turns and quick corners that nearly trip you up, and would have if ben didn't catch you and pull you along in time. at this point, you're holding his hand to keep up. somehow, you all ended up in the forest beside the neighborhood. this was probably the fastest way to get to ashlyn's house, and clearly, she knows it well enough to guide everyone through. meanwhile, the phantom is slowed down by the terrain.

as the trees thin out to the other side of the neighborhood, your legs are beginning to hurt. however, you do see a giant gray wall now, the one that the bus always picks ashlyn up by. this must be the graveyard everyone was talking about.

“time?!”

“eight minutes!”

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

ashlyn skids to a stop inside of the wall, the phantom gaining on us by the second. tyler squeals slightly, before yelling to close the gate, his voice slurring with how quickly he spoke. with a loud thudding of everyone making it in, she slams her hand on the button as hard as humanly possible. the phantom does it's best to squeeze through the wall opening, but it shuts too quickly for it to come in. it starts hitting the wall, the structure echoing loud banging. ashlyn tenses, clenching her jaw as everyone stands in a outward facing circle, adrenaline still pumping through your arms.

“alright,” ashlyn says, dropping her hand a little and huffing. “let's head to the bus.”

“bus?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in confusion, looking around. there were… a lot of busses, actually. you thought this place was a graveyard?”

“oh, it's uh-”

“HAha. no one explained that. oops!” aiden cuts taylor off, giggling, in his own little world before turning to bother ashlyn. taylor side smiles at aiden, before turning back to you and continuing. “school bus graveyard. ash's family owns it,” she explains. there was probably more going on, but for the two of you, exhausted and filthy, it works well enough. a thumbs up from you later, taylor throws her arm around you. oh! friendship! that was fast. smiling at her, you return affection, throwing your arm around her shoulders too. she stinks, but you do too, so you have no moral high ground. what would you even say? ‘ugh, you just ran a mile here to there and back to save my life, disgusting. go shower’?????? no, that would be rude.

a yelp of surprise leaves you as aiden joins you guys, throwing his arm around taylor's other shoulder.

“you stink.”

“you do too.”

“I also stink. triplets!”

your trio laughs as you make your way to the empty school bus deemed hideout. a collective groan leaves everyone, sitting in seemingly designated spots. you shuffle awkwardly, looking around for a seat, before taking a seat behind tyler, beside logan, who smiles and waves at you before letting his head roll back onto the seat. tyler flops into his own seat, and you can hear his back pop as he groans and rubs his eyes.

“that sucked.”

“yeah, I agree.”

tyler tilts his head to look at you slightly, and you realize maybe he isn't actually perpetually angry, maybe he just has a resting bitch face. and also lacks sleep and proper communication skills. the way he again looks you over to make sure you're okay tells you he at least wouldn't leave you to the wolves in an instant.

ash leans over, and you frown as you hear her pop her foot. fair enough, but also ew.

“ah,” she starts, her head gently leaning on the seat in front of her. “the banging stopped.”

you didn't hear it after you guys had walked away, but also, ben told you about her having better hearing than the rest of you all. so that, of all things, wasn't too wild.

“it probably gave up, or-” tyler sighs, his eyes opening to look over to the freckle-faced girl. “- someth…” he's interrupted by ashlyn shooting to sit straight up. a second passes, and it looks like maybe she's just listening more intently than before, and then a shiver rolls up her spine and her shoulders tense. her eyes scan sideways, a nauseous feeling crawling up her ribs and into her throat. bus seat, window, bus seat, window.

fingers over the door frame, a dark skeletal looking head peering over.

your heart drops into your stomach, simultaneously jumping into the veins of your neck. everyone stands, almost synchronously backs up to cover each other. you find yourself in almost the very back, behind ben and logan. you glance at the twins, tyler slightly shielding taylor with his arm even though he's trembling.

the air stands perfectly still, nobody's lungs dare to move. it's like you're encased in stone. your shoulder blade throbs, and you wish you were some superhuman like the rest of them seemed to be. none of them were even seriously injured or anything, that could probably mostly be attributed to having five other people watching other people's backs at all times, and the medical supplies in the corner, but still.

no, you're no superhuman, but ash seems to be. she's the first to start trying to figure out what you guys can do. forcing her gritted teeth open, she hisses a question to you. “can we open the back door?”

“it's blocked!” you whisper, and your chest begins to hurt from how tight you're making your muscles. glancing to Logan, who's started crying in panic doesn't help much either. the own tears pricking at your eyes want to pull themselves down your cheeks, and your vision is fuzzy because of them. you decidedly rub them out of your face before they can be any worse.

“what do we do??” logan asks, his voice catching for a second, his fingers shaking and pulled up to his chest.

aiden replies nonchalantly, shrugging slightly and earning a loud thwack to the back of his head from tyler and an “aiden!” from taylor.

the floor creaked and the phantom makes a lunge for the party. you drop down, arms crossing to cover your face as your back meets the wall behind you, and a scream rips through the group.

beep, beep, beep.

your body lunges backward into your mattress, and you practically punch yourself in the jaw to cover yourself again. your forearms hurt and your legs feel sore. it takes a moment for you to really believe that you aren't in the bus anymore, your stomach heaving in your breathing. slowly, your arms start to come lay on your chest. slowly, your shoulders start to stop shaking so hard, and slowly, your breathing becomes deeper. you can feel trickles of tears, but you let them fall this time. you don't really have the energy at this point to scratch them away.

soreness tingles all along your body, your throat feels raw, and you don't really know why. you didn't scream all that much, did you? your phone pings, and you let the air rest for a second before even thinking of picking it up.

logan

everyone okay??

ashlyn

👍

aiden

lol that was close.

taylor

physically yes

tyler

mentally no.

you put your phone down, resting your head and grunting at the crack it gives.

you

yeah, aiden,

please don't die

aiden

lame.okay

ben

i think you gave

everyone a mini heart

attack when you said

that

aiden

everyone was

already having a heart

attack lmao.

you're looking for a gif or meme or random picture from your camera roll to respond with, when ben starts asking the important questions. no, actually, you hadn't done the homework. you had messed around with it for about an hour before bed, you were too nervous for finishing it and only answered a couple of the questions asked.

you “👎” the question before scrolling on a random app of your choosing, your eyes begging for sleep but your brain screaming to stay awake. the small twinkles of adrenaline from earlier aren't really in your system anymore, but you feel like they're crawling up in your arms. up your calves and up your neck. you keeping seeing things in the corner of your room, your mind making up eyes in the darkness. you don't want to keep your light on all night and run up the electrical bill, but it would certainly help if the places where the light from your phone doesn't reach quite as well would stop shifting. you feel.. watched. you're not, obviously, you know that. you know it's the part of your brain trying to keep you alive, but you're pretty sure sleeping is also part of staying alive.

you eventually turn onto your stomach, your palm pulling back the skin of your face and rubbing your eye. the small clock in the corner of your screen reads four something in the morning. after you stopped replying, the conversation eventually died out in the group chat, and even though you could see someone else was online, you didn't really want to bother any of them. luckily for you, you didn't have to.

taylor

hey, i forgot to check

up on you! u doin ok?

your eyebrow raises before you even process the message fully. why is she awake? of all people, you kinda got the feeling that she took care of herself more than the others in this scenario. then again, people who take care of others tend to neglect their own needs. maybe she didn't want to text anyone else, and texting you gave her an excuse to be awake?

you

im okay, you?

taylor

well, yk, as good as

we can be atp lol

hmm. you send her a random video because you have nothing else to talk about. she sends one back, and you spend the next hour sending them back and forth until you inevitably pass out. it's funny how much more comfortable you are when you aren't entirely lonely. that goes for both the phantom world and this one. it pulls you out, in a way. the way you have to flip-flop between normal life, and the terror that awaits you for seven minutes each night. the fact that the times don't line up still bothers you. it messes with your head, and your perception of time. how much passes and how quickly. you're not alone anymore, sure, but that doesn't lessen the effect of the situation any less.

except, maybe it does. maybe your body relaxing isn't just the natural melatonin, but the ever soft taste of safety. the satin touch of a cool breeze from your window before your mind drifts to a sea of unconscious landscape.

your alarm goes of an hour and a half later. lucky you, you no longer ever miss your alarm, and instead shoot up the second it goes off! yeah, the blood rush to your head and immediately grabbing the baseball bat you have near your bed before realizing what's going on isn't the best feeling in the world, but you're not late to school anymore, so that's a plus.

you don't really look at yourself in the mirror anymore, not while you brush your teeth and hair, not after you shower. a part of you cringes at the thought, even as you glance yourself over to make sure you're reasonably well prepared to head out. the eye bags you've developed don't compliment you as well as you would've hoped, and they contrast brightly against your skin going pale. there's a tired to your eyes that you can't seem to rub away, even as you fill your thermos with coffee before you jump on the bus. didn't help that you were honestly a little paranoid that you would see a monster in the mirror if you looked too long.

you sit down in the seat beside where ashlyn's seat is, sighing as you place your bag by your feet to make room for anyone else. your chin is in the palm of your hand, and you don't feel tired in the slightest. you will in about half an hour, when the fear factor that is waking up fades off, when you fingers stop tingling, and when your jaw stops clenching so hard. you take the moment to try and release some tension as ashlyn gets on the bus. she nods at you, looking you over before sitting down in the other seat. it's a habit you've noticed she picked up with the others, even though at the time you didn't know why. she would stand there for just an extra second, like she was checking them for stains. now, she did it for you, too.

this bus ride feels like it's taking forever, seriously. maybe everyone is just groggy this morning. isn't it odd, that you too would be groggy like the rest of them? normally, you'd be sitting with your friends, maybe even texting lunarmoon, your online friend. normally, you'd be up until early hours of the morning playing games, reading, doom scrolling, not because eyes would make themselves up to stalk you. laughing was now dry, hyperventilating now a more common pass time than giggling and memes, the dull pull of sleep more enticing, yet an aversion like never before overtakes that desire. the tips of your fingers are playing with the bracelets loosely dangling from your wrist. it's a blue one with a dice charm, one you got when you turned seven from an acquaintance at your party. it was the only thing your newly seven year old self didn't end up losing or destroying. now the question would be, would it remain?

a jab to your shoulder makes you jump, and you flash around to squint at a softly grinning aiden.

“hey, don't know if you heard me, do you need the homework?” he asked, twirling the pieces of paper in his fingers, and then they promptly fell apart and into your seat. you sat there and stared at them for a second, before laughing through your nose and picking them up. “yeah, I'll take them, if you don't mind.”

aiden gives you a thumbs up, ben beside him has his earbuds in and is looking out the window like you were doing a bit ago. he looks tired, but that's not new. everyone looks tired; but you've gotta admit, it's probably exhausting to keep an eye on aiden at all times. sometimes, only just sometimes, he makes you think of a class pet that has a habit of jumping off counters. you all look after each other, but ben has a tendency to be the older brother aiden seemingly needs. you're own older brother was off at college, but the two of you had never really been close. you can say the same for your younger sibling too. they never really interacted with you outside of the occasional conversation. it was honestly…really quiet at your house.

you pulled out your own earphones, opening your music app and sending ben a music party link, adding a couple songs to it yourself before turning to look at him. you can see the moment he hears the notification, even if you don't, and then checks his phone, tilts his head and looks up at you. you smile at him, wiggling your fingers in greeting, and he does an awkward little wave back, before pressing the link and joining, adding his own music.

regardless of whether or not your music tastes align, you enjoy hearing each other's pallet. it's refreshing to not pick all your own music, especially when the other person also has an excellent music taste. and the bus ride is all to short for you to really complain, anyway.

you're in class before you realize it, unlike your other… is friends the right word? coworkers at this point? peers? survival partners? you could probably consider yourself friends with taylor, at this point. everyone else was more an acquaintance. that being said, they did all risk their lives to save your own from living in the bathroom for the rest of eternity. that feels a little closer than acquaintances. maybe the right term is party members. like a dungeons and dragons party. yeah. you like that.

anyway, you're a lot more energized, and everyone else falls asleep within ten minutes of class starting. it takes you fifteen. now that everyone else is present, it's easier to feel slightly safer. even after the bell nearly has you tripping over yourself to wake up, and you could've sworn you felt breathing on your shoulder.

you can see everyone talking in the corner of your eye, but you walk over to ashlyn, who's packing up her seat. she makes eye contact with you, again, looking over you before she continues. she acknowledges you with a hum, and you stand there waiting for her to be done before speaking.

“hey, um, I just wanted to say thank you. again. for coming and getting me. i get the feeling you're kinda group leader, well, okay, everyone at least looks up to you like that. and I know it was dangerous to come get me, and you didn't have to, but I really appreciate it. i won't be a pain, I promise I'll figure out something I can do to help so that it wasn't all for n-”

“ash! oh, hey, you too!” aiden interrupts you in the middle of your rambling gratitude and sort of apology? you don't remember, you kinda lost your point when ashlyn started to go slightly wide eyed at the confrontation. he's standing with everyone else, and holding his backpack over his shoulder with that evergreen grin of his. “we're all eating lunch together. y'know… to talk about stuff. you coming?”

[koalatysleep]

That time Togashi sneaked in a same-sex Soul Bond romance in Shonen Jump, in 90's uber-conservative Japan 😆❤️❤️

Somebody give Togashi a friggin' award for the Sneakiest Genius to ever Sneak, coz I'm not even kidding, he straight out created Kuwameshi as a Soul Bond romance in the subtext of YYH, where he tells us the real story is hidden! 🤩🤣😍

Full meta's on AO3 with proof points & screenshots, but here's the teaser!

When put together, Yusuke 幽助 and Kazuma 和真 means Souls (幽) in True Harmony (和真) who Help (助) each other which our heroes continually do throughout canon!

Kuwabara's last name is drawn from the Japanese phrase "kuwabara kuwabara" くわばら くわばら to ward off Lightning aka Bad Things like death, danger and bad luck, but written with the characters for Mulberry Field 桑原 instead, and GUESS WHAT - Mulberry has Divine significance in Japanese culture, is associated with the Sun God (Kuwa’s Reiki is Gold, like the sun), and items made from Mulberry wood are traditionally gifted to Japanese royalty, which Yusuke turns out to be!

Yusuke literally gets struck by Suzaku's lightning, tortured and nearly killed the minute he's separated from Kuwa in 4 beasts arc - more signs that Kuwa really is Yusuke’s Divine Protector who's been warding off lightning (Bad Things) from Yusuke just by being there, and their separation has immediate catastrophic impact on Yusuke coz Yusuke's not yet strong enough to fend off these threats on his own!

I know Togashi claims he came up with the Mulberry Field 桑原 characters for Kuwa's last name by combining characters from baseball players' names, and he very well may have done so, but considering the depth of Mulberry references throughout canon that we'll see in the full meta, you be the judge whether Togashi was also thinking of Mulberry's connotations when he picked these characters! Especially since at the end of the manga, there's a lot of seemingly throwaway lines about how both the Sky and the Sea are the same blue color, and how Yusuke told a half-truth about his real reason for picking the blue button in the 3-buttons mission! (This deserves its own meta another time!) I read this as 4th wall hint that Togashi was drawing from both Mulberry's divine symbolism and baseball players' names when he picked the characters for Kuwa's name, but he told a half-truth that he was only thinking of the baseball players! 🤣

Given the double Divine Protector symbolism in Kuwa's last name (from lightning ward and Mulberry) and the True Harmony meaning of his first name, Kuwa's literally made by his creator to be Yusuke's Divine Patron Saint who protects Yusuke from Bad Things coz Kuwa's in True Harmony (True Love) with Yusuke!

I read Yusuke's Good Luck in his fights throughout Genkai's succession trials as Kuwa's High Reiki unconsciously or semi-consciously increasing Yusuke’s Good Luck to save Yusuke from death or serious injury, as per the mini meta in the End Notes of The Good Fight Chapter 7!

Even if you choose not to take this read, who can forget Kuwa's SOUL literally left his body to save Yusuke from the demon fish in Rando fight? 🤯

Seriously, I L❤️‍🔥ve Togashi's audacious True Harmony soul bond subtext! 🤣

There’re SO MANY times when Yusuke's opponents are outright surprised that Yusuke somehow has Reiki reserves when he shouldn't have any left, or they straight out say Yusuke's protected by stronger Reiki than expected (e.g. Rando fight, Suzaku fight, Toguro fight) - I read this as canon BOTH foreshadowing Yusuke's Mazoku heritage AND hinting that Kuwa's protecting Yusuke as his Divine Patron Saint by contributing his Reiki to Yusuke through their True Harmony Soul Bond connection! 

Of course, this can be read as just Yusuke's Mazoku heritage giving him deep Reiki reserves & protection, but consider this! Yusuke's Mazoku Reiki is Red! In all these instances when Yusuke has unexpected Reiki reserves, his Reiki is BLUE!

Guess what else is the exact same blue? Kuwa's SOUL is literally blue when he saved Yusuke from the demon fish in Rando fight, and immediately afterwards, Yusuke escapes the demon fish in a spectacular explosion of Blue Reiki, the same color as Kuwa's SOUL! We only see Kuwa's Soul return to his body after Yusuke escapes!

In final Toguro fight in the Dark Tournament, after anime Yusuke fires his last Rei Gun and has no Reiki left, Hiei tells us Rei Gun's power is still going after leaving Yusuke's finger! There's a mysterious background music when this happens, and key characters look surprised! I read this as Kuwa (who was playing dead 🤣) contributing his Reiki to Rei Gun!

Their Reiki literally becomes ONE after Kuwa gives his lifeforce to save Yusuke post Suzaku fight as per the pics at start of this post! and it's Gold, Green, and Blue to represent Kuwa, Yusuke, and their Soul Bond respectively! Reiki is basically the energy of your heart, spirit and SOUL, so this is canon visually showing us they have a True Harmony Soul Bond! Just look at how epic our heroes are with their ONE Reiki!

Greek culture even has a star-crossed lovers story associated with Mulberry trees (which inspired Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet), where the lovers are thwarted by family circumstances, life-threatening danger, bad timing, and one party jumping prematurely to the wrong conclusion, which then leads the other party to follow suit -- all these elements appear in the Kuwameshi Love Story! Proof points in full meta!

The COUNTLESS times Yusuke and Kuwabara are in sync and mirror images of each other, and how they’re literally Two Souls in One Body when Yusuke possesses Kuwa’s body pre-revival, and then One Soul in Two Bodies for the rest of canon when Kuwa stands with Yusuke through thick-&-thin, and Yusuke follows Kuwa's moral code right back, eventually setting up the Makai Unification Tournament with Kuwa's 1-1 fight code, which prevents an all-out war, all its unnecessary bloodshed, and brings about Peace!

Preventing a war that's hundreds of years in the making is as good as Divine Intervention warding off catastrophe, just like saying "Kuwabara Kuwabara" wards off death and lightning strikes!

Even birds as symbol for Kuwameshi romance has Divine connotations in real-world Japan!

Sacred Mulberry wood symbolically expels evil in real-world Japanese rituals, same as how Kuwabara (literally Mulberry Field) expels the "evil" of Yusuke's inner demons from Yusuke's heart, the inner demons being Yusuke's distorted view of himself as a "bad, violent, good-for-nothing fuck-up unworthy of love", deep emotional pain, anger, and self-loathing.

There's even a manga pre-revival story (the 2 female best friends) that parallels this! Not to mention Kuwa literally manifests his Gold Rei Ken for first time using a broken piece of Musashi's wooden sword made from sacred wood!

And in the manga pre-revival story of the Old Man & the Raccoon, a wooden branch prevented the trap from closing fully around the raccon, thus preventing death or serious injury, foreshadowing how Kuwa likewise prevents the trap of the Dark Tournament from closing fully around Yusuke, preventing death of Yusuke's SOUL and True Self! Sacred wood, divine providence, and soul references abound throughout canon! Deets in full meta!

Given the massive weight of evidence that we see in the full meta, what else is Togashi showing us, other than two lovers forging a Soul Bond and becoming ONE?

What is True Harmony, other than another way to say Soul Bond?🤣

If you'd like to read how our heroes forged their Soul Bond in an Alternate Canon fic which has no constraints on what we can show in the main text, try The Good Fight on AO3! Most chapters have End Notes that gush about the canon subtext that inspired it!

If you're as intrigued by canon subtext as me, read the full meta for the mind-blowing depth and details! As always, meta is based on the canon versions that hew as close to original Japanese canon as a non-Japanese speaker can get!

Now on to the mind-blowing symbolism of Mulberry (kuwa 桑) in Kuwabara's last name!

[bnhaobservation]

BNHA Observations, speculations and assorted info: The facts taking place during the year that ends with Rei's hospitalization and Tōya's assumed death

So, in order to write my fic, I spend much time observing canon scenes, comparing the manga and the anime version, take note of details, translations and info in them as well as finding out how are some things called.

Since what I noticed/speculated/found out can be of use for other fic authors I thought to share as well.

Resources:

Chapter 31 The Boy Born with Everything (全てを持って生まれた男の子 Subete o Motte Umareta Otoko no Ko) Chapter 39 Todoroki Shōto: Origin (轟焦凍：オリジン Todoroki Shōto: Origin) Chapter 44 Relaxing Day Off (休め振替休日 Yasume Furikae Kyūjitsu) Chapter 93 One For All's Ember (残り火ワンフォーオール Nokoribi One For All) Chapter 166 Be Proud, License Trainees (ホッコれ仮免講習 Hokkore Karimen Kōshū) Chapter 187 Flaming Roar! vs. Nomu: High-End (燃えよ轟け！VS脳無：ハイエンド Moeyo Todoroke! Versus Nōmu: High-End) Chapter 188 Your Father, the Number One Hero (父はNo.1ヒーロー Chichi wa Number One Hero) Chapter 192 The Todoroki Family (轟家 Todoroki-ke) Chapter 202 Match 3 (第3セット Daisan Set) Chapter 204 Tuning Up (チューニング Tuning) Chapter 249 The Hellish Todoroki Family (地獄の轟くん家 Jigoku no Todoroki-kun-chi Chapter 250 Ending (エンディング Ending) Chapter 290 Dabi's Dance (ダビダンス Dabi Dance) Chapter 302 The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire, Part 2 (火の不始末 後編 Hi no Fushimatsu Kōhen) Chapter 350 Bound to a Fiery Fate (エン En)

Episode 19 The Boy Born with Everything (全てを持って生まれた男の子 Subete o Motte Umareta Otoko no Ko) Episode 23 Todoroki Shōto: Origin (轟焦凍：オリジン Todoroki Shōto: Origin) Episode 25 Todoroki vs. Bakugō (轟VS爆豪 Todoroki versus Bakugō) Episode 49 One For All (ワン・フォー・オール) Episode 88 His Start (始まりの Hajimarino) Episode 90 Vestiges (面影 Omokage) Episode 95 Match 3 (第３試合 Daisan Shiai) Episode 96 Match 3 Conclusion (第３試合決着 Daisan Shiai Ketchaku) Episode 105 The Hellish Todoroki Family (地獄の轟くん家 Jigoku no Todoroki-kun-chi) Episode 106 The Unforgiven (許されざる者 Yurusarezaru-mono) Episode 124 Dabi's Dance (ダビダンス Dabi Dance) Episode 130 The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire (火の不始末 Hi no Fushimatsu)

Series 4th Outro2 "Shout Baby" by Ryoku Oushoku Shakai

My Hero Academia: School Briefs I (僕のヒーローアカデミア 雄英白書 I Boku no Hīrō Akademia U.A. Hakusho I) - Part 2 Notice from School My Hero Academia: School Briefs V (僕のヒーローアカデミア 雄英白書 祝 Boku no Hero Academia Hakusho Iwai) - Part 3 Awkward Year's-End Soba

OBSERVATIONS, SPECULATIONS AND ASSORTED INFO:

Fundamentally the year that lead to Rei's hospitalization and Touya's death is narrated into two different moments, chap 31/39, in which we've a retelling of how bad it was from Shouto's point of view and chap 290/302, in which we learn instead of Touya's side.

However, there's a fundamental difference in the two narrations. When the story tackles Touya's side, we can more or less pinpoint the dates of when this is happening, the same can't be said for when the story tackles Shouto's side. There's probably a narrative reason for this, Touya's whole story (which covers much more than just this year) is a progression of things going from good to terrible, while Shouto's story is likely meant to narrate the constant horror in which he and his mother lived until Rei lost it. So there's not really a need to pinpoint when a scene took place because that scene likely kept on repeating in similar variants for days, until Rei became unable to take it any longer.

As a result I'll narrate some fact that are part of Shouto's side first, so as to give the idea they likely repeated over and over through that year, while I'll follow the timeline of Touya's side of the story more closely.

So anyway let's dig on what happened that year.

Warning: as tumblr now has an image limit (no more than 30 per post), I had to turn more images into a single one so as to show the full scene. The result is that the image quality in some scenes is pretty low... Please, use the images solely as a visual reference of which scene you need to look at and, for the text check your own copy of BNHA.

TIMELINE

January 11: Todoroki Shōto is 5.

January 18: Todoroki Tōya is 13.

April: Todoroki Tōya starts his second year at Middle school - Todoroki Fuyumi starts Middle school - Todoroki Natsuo starts his 3rd year at Elementary school. - Todoroki Shōto attends preschool.

[Preeschool in Japan isn't mandatory but we know Shōto attended to it as Chap 166 shows on its cover the photo taken at the preschool entrance ceremony... the photo might not be necessarily taken in this year as kids can start preschool from when they're 3 but it just confirms Shōto went at it]

Sometime during the year: Endeavor and All Might talked for the last time.

A note on the translation:

‘Chō hisashiburi! 10-Nen mae no taidan furi ka na! ? Mikaketakara aisatsu shi tokou to omotte ne.’ 「超久し振り！10年前の対談振りかな！？見かけたから挨拶しとこうと思ってね。」 “It’s been a long time! It's from the talk/conversation show from 10 years ago, right! ? I saw you and thought I'd say hello.”

Endeavor and All Might's conversation is called ‘taidan furi’ (対談振り) where ‘taidan’ (対談) means “a discussion between two people which is usually set up as a special occasion and whose topic is set in advance”… while ‘furi’ (振り) is “show”. So basically, 10 years ago they didn’t have a casual chat but ended up together in some sort of talk show / combined interview. The anime makes it even more obvious because in it the sentence is:

‘10-Nen mae, media de taidan shite irai ka na! ? !’ 「10年前、メディアで対談して以来かな！？！」 “I think it's been since we had a conversation on the media 10 years ago!?”

During the year: Shōto watches All Might on television when his father isn't around [shown in chap 39 and 206. We see that Shōto's clothes are different in the two scenes and so is his position, meaning he did it more than once which "School Briefs" also confirms]

“You always were a fan of All Might, weren’t you, Shōto? But you had to wait until your father wasn’t around to watch those video clips in secret. Remember?” [Rei from "My Hero Academia: School Briefs I"]

During the year: Shōto's training is so severe it causes him to throw up. Rei tries to get in between him and Enji protesting he's only 5 and gets hit. [shown in chap 39, 202, 204]

Actually we don't know if Chapter 202 & 204 are placed in this same year (Shōto is still small but Rei isn't present and Shōto and Enji are dressed differently so it's not the same time as chap 39... and likely chap 202 and 204 show two different scenes as well since in one Enji has his moustaches on fire while in the other is his beard... never mentioning in chap 202 Shōto already has his scar so this likely happened post him being burn and could as well take place in the following year, though the fact that Enji has long sleeves might imply it's still winter...) but they seems to show other scenes of Shōto's training which still sees him throwing up and crying, which surely confirm an abusive pattern.

A note on the translation:

'Tōya wa oshikatta. Ore ijō no karyoku o sonaete irunoni. Rei no taishitsu o motte shimatte… Aitsu wa… oshikatta' 「燈矢は惜しかった。俺以上の火力を備えているのに 冷の体質を持ってしまって… あいつは…惜しかった」 “Tōya was close/disappointing/something I feel regret for/deserving better. Even though he has more firepower than me. He had Rei's constitution… That guy… was close/disappointing/something I feel regret for/deserving better.”

Oishikatta (惜しかった) has quite a bunch of meanings like to feel regret for, to find something a pity/pitiful, to mourn but also to cherish, to love dearly, to be precious... and is used to express pity/regret of an "almost but not quite" situation, in "a damn it, you were so close" kind of way.

Very likely the emphasis in the sentence isn't that Tōya could almost do it, but that it was so unfortunate Tōya couldn't do it.

This doesn't necessarily mean Tōya was already dead because it was decided Tōya couldn't fulfill Enji's ambitions way prior his death and way prior Shōto's birth.

BTW, Tōya started burning himself before Natsuo was conceived. In order for their age difference to work, it means Enji started training Tōya when Tōya was 3 (yeah, it's possible he started earlier than this age but I find difficult that a child of 2 could pull it out successfully). As a result it's possible he started training Shōto at that age as well. In case someone doesn't remember it, Quirks don't appear when one is 4 but can appear even earlier (luminescent baby anyone?), Shōto could freeze his own snot as an infant and it's implied that Enji knew Tōya had a fire Quirk when they conceived Fuyumi (meaning when Tōya was 2 months or younger) so starting their training before 4 wasn't impossible.

During the year: While Shōto is scared at the idea of becoming like his father, someone who abuses his mother, Rei comfort him saying he can decide who he'll become. [Chap 39... I pieced back the scene for better visual]

During the year: Tōya is desperate because he can't figure his reason to exist and search comfort in Natsuo [Chap 290]

Likely in sprind, anyway prior to July (as Natsuo isn't 9 yet): Tōya, Natsuo and Fuyumi play together while Shōto can only watch them. Enji refuses to let him join them saying he needs to train and they belong to different worlds. [Chap 302 & 39 & 250]

July 1: Todoroki Natsuo is 9.

Likely summer, though it could be still spring: Natsuo refuses to listen to Tōya’s complains during the night, telling him to go talk with Fuyumi. [Chap 302]

August 8: Todoroki Enji/Endeavor is 36.

Likely autumn (Rei's sleeves are longer): Rei tries to stop Tōya from leaving the house and the two have an argument. [Chap 302]

During the year: Rei begins to break starting to cry way too often to the point Shōto will end up remembering her solely crying and will forget her smiling. [Chap 31]

December 6: Todoroki Fuyumi is 13.

Winter: Tōya’s flames turn blue. [Chap 302]

A note on the translation:

'Hayaumare no chīsana karada ni yōyaku otozure hajimeta nijiseichō’「早生まれの小さな身体に漸く訪れ始めた二次性徴」 "Secondary sexual characteristics have finally begun to appear in the small body of the hayaumare.”

'Hayaumare' isn't a premature kid but someone born between January 1 and April 1. In Japan this is relevant because in order to start school you need to be 6 by the time the 2 of April comes around, meaning the Hayaumare are the youngest kids in the class as they're born in the year following the one in which the other kids, or ‘Osoumare’ (遅生まれ "born in between April 2 and December 31"), were born.

Winter (likely in a different day as the black bars on the corner hint at time passing by... possibly because when Tōya came back home Enji wasn't there yet?): Tōya asks his father to come to Sekoto Peak with him his next day off. [Chap 302]

Winter (likely in the same day): Todoroki Enji/Endeavor hits Todoroki Rei for not stopping Todoroki Tōya from training. [Chap 302]

Winter (the morning of another day as Todoroki Shōto has just woken up): Rei snaps and burns Shōto. [Chap 31, 39, 249, 302]

“Shōto?” he said, facing the sliding fusuma screen. No response. Natsuo slid the screen aside, not expecting to find his brother inside, but there he was-fast asleep on the Futon that he’s clearly plopped down onto without much care, all askew. Moving quietly so as not to wake Shōto, Natsuo crept over and peered at his brother’s face. He looked surprisingly young, despite the burn scar that sat heavily on his face like a shadow. Having been abused by Endeavor-who’s been fixated on his own ambition. Todoroki Rei had snapped one day and thrown scalding water in Shōto’s face. Natsuo would never forget the pair of tear-filled screams he’d heard that day. How painful it must have been, he thought. Natsuo caught himself extending a finger toward the scar but quickly curled it away when he realized what he was doing. Shōto’s scar probably wouldn’t exist if only the boy hadn’t inherited aspects of both his parents’ Quirks. Maybe Shōto could have enjoyed a normal childhood, full of carefree days playing with his siblings. And yet I couldn’t do a thing… Natsuo had been in elementary school when it had happened. Their father, Endeavor, had ignored his family well-being in pursuit of his ambitions-ambitions he’d projected onto young Shōto. Even now, Natsuo would beat himself up over how he used to be before the abuse really began, recalling the period in his life that had made him feel pathetic and ashamed. Before Shōto was born, Natsuo had sought his father’s love and care, and when Endeavor was around, he would turn into an excited ball of energy, eager for attention. But that love never came. It was only thanks to his warm and caring mother that Natsuo had survived those early years and learned to cope with rejection from his other parent. But after Shōto was born, even their mother grew distant, though not out of indifference. Natsuo could sense how much energy she had to devote to protecting her youngest, her baby, from her husband’s so called training-which most would label abuse- but at that age, Natsuo couldn’t help but feel that his mother had been stolen from him. After witnessing his mother and brother crying and screaming on that horrible day, Natsuo had been overcome with crushing shame. [My Hero Academia: School Briefs V]

Winter (the same day or the one after it... Shōto's clothes are different but he might have had to change because he got wet... on the other side it's also possible that Rei's hospitalization wasn't done the same day but Enji had to do preparations for it): Rei is consequently hospitalized and put in isolation. After learning about his mother's hospitalization Shōto decides to blame his father for this. [Chap 39]

A note on the translation:

'Omae ni kigai o kuwaetanode byōin ni ireta. Mattaku… daijina tokida to iu no ni…' 「おまえに危害を加えたので病院に入れた。全く…大事な時だと言うのに…」 "I put her in a hospital because she hurt you. Good grief... even though it's an important time..."

Enji is actually more specific in what he says to Shōto about Rei's fate, saying he put her in a hospital and didn't call her a fool but uses an expression of general exhasperation 'mattaku'.

Winter (likely on Todoroki Enji/Endeavor’s day off, Tōya's clothes are also noticeably different from the ones he had when he asked his father to go with him on Sekoto Peak): Tōya goes on Sekoto Peak, waiting for his father. When his father doesn’t arrive and the lights go down he ends up setting himself on fire losing his lower jaw before he manages to enter in a stream. He is then found and taken away by All for One. Enji reaches Sekoto Peak but can’t find his son except for a piece of his jawbone. Tōya is assumed dead even if Enji at first claims he didn't want to accept it. However this will lead him to focus even more on Shōto. [Chap 291, 302, 350]

Winter (after Tōya's death): After Rei's hospitalization Shōto will never visit her until he'll be in U.A. High school. Rei's psychological condition will get worse. Fuyumi, despite knowing about her family's sad situation was and will remain too scared to do anything beyond keeping up appearances. Natsuo will gradually forget things but will keep on resenting Enji for what happened to his mother and to his siblings. [Chap 39, 187, 250, 302]

TIMELINE CONSISTENCY PROBLEMS

Either Horikoshi didn't plan the Todoroki timeline or decided to change things along the way as, occasionally, what the characters say happened in a chapter get contraddicted in another... or make them seem uncaring of Enji's neglect of Natsuo (and Fuyumi) and of how he eventually casued Tōya's death.

Mind you, I'm sure they all cared about Tōya's death and about the neglect Natsuo and Fuyumi suffered because otherwise the characterization wouldn't make sense. This is likely a problem in the narration, not an attempt of the narration to deny the care.

Anyway I'm gonna list the problems in narration now. Do with them what you want. I'm sure plenty of people has headcanons that solve them just fine. This though isn't a page for theories so I didn't list any of mine either.

Not all of the problems are terrible (the only ones really bad are the ones that consistently change the timeline/why things happened) but some of them can undoubtedly confuse a reader about the characters' feelings.

Let's start with chap 350.

For start this establishes that Tōya assumed his father didn't come to him on Sekoto Peak because he was too busy with work... so the fire took place not after the discussion they had (which fits with how the timeline decided Rei needed to be hospitalized before Tōya were to burn) but neither on Enji's free day apparently... unless Tōya assumed his father gave up on his free day to work some more which is something he had already done in chap 301, when Enji left and refused to train Tōya even though it was his day off... and this can be Tōya's own way to excuse his father for not coming to Sekoto Peak.

However, after this the chapter has Tōya say he has to go back home because he did and say some awful things so he should apologize to his mother and the others and shows his father what he can do.

The problem is... we didn't really see him doing something awful. Yes, he argued with his mother but this was PRIOR to his flames turning blue, as for his siblings his argument with Fuyumi dated to PRIOR Natsuo's birth and the one with Natsuo to PRIOR his argument with his mother and wasn't even a real argument. He just begged his little brother to hear him out.

If there was an argument that day before Tōya left for Sekoto Peak... if he did something... well, this is completely discharged by the plot. It won't even be mentioned when he and his siblings will meet again... not even mentioning his mother was hospitalized and put in isolation PRIOR to him going on Sekoto Peak, so if he had an argument with her we didn't see, it still was way prior to that.

And the same goes for whatever he did of awful... as I've hard time thinking he's referring to accidentally burning down the peak.

Even his discussion with his father doesn't seem to fit the description and if he blames himself for how his father hit his mother... well, that just feel messed up especially since he wasn't even shown being there to see.

Going on.

Chap 39 said Shōto didn't visit Rei because he blamed himself, while chap 250 says it was due to Rei's psychological condition worsening after Tōya's death... to go back on chap 302 volume version which said she was put in isolation PRIOR to Tōya's death (and therefore likely couldn't see anyone even if she wanted to) and then, AFTER Tōya's death she got even worse.

In the magazine version of chap 302 Horikoshi had Rei state that Enji basically became abusive AFTER Tōya's death, and this is what eventually lead Rei to snap and be eventually hospitalized... the whole thing was corrected in the volume version so now the volume version too agrees that Rei was hospitalized FIRST and then Tōya died.

While the thing got 'fixed', the whole correction was done in a sloppy manner... it would have worked much better if the dialogues in whose two scenes were swapped because, if Rei was already hospitalized and put in isolation, she wouldn't have known if, after Tōya's death, Enji got worse. It's hard to think she's referring to the time prior Tōya's death because it feels like a non sequitur since they were talking of the time AFTER IT.

Since the narration was changed retroactively it's possible that in the first planning for the chapter Tōya's flames turning blue, him telling his father, his father abusing Rei and him running to Sekoto Peak (instead than waiting for Enji's day off) took place all in the same day... or better all in the same night as it's dark when Tōya's flames turn blue and it's dark when Tōya burns on Sekoto Peak.

This however becomes impossible when it was decided Rei was hospitalized PRIOR to Tōya dying.

It doesn't help how Rei in chapter 39 focus especially on how she shouldn't stay with Shōto due to his left side being repulsive to her, when chap 302 magazine version also implied Natsuo's look was repulsive to her and the volume version instead change things and made it all about the way they looked at her (but Shōto never looked at her in such a way though okay, she might have been losing it but she should have still worried more about Tōya who glared at her like Enji and also about Natsuo). Of course the problem of chap 39 is likely that what happens in chap 302 was likely not planned and the story was possibly meant to focus solely on Shōto so, of course, she wouldn't want to be near him and wouldn't be troubled by the other kids.

Shōto is supposed to be kept isolated by his siblings, which is also why Natsuo had no idea Shōto liked Soba as, evidently, they never ate together before. However, when Enji attack Rei from the furniture we see they seem to be all in the same room, the television one.

In chap 291 Enji claims he kept searching for Tōya, unable to believe in his death... but chap 302 presents him as resigned and completely focused on Shōto.

Either because Tōya's storiline wasn't planned yet or to keep the secret, the story in its early stages avoid mentioning him... with confusing results.

Shōto, in chap 39, won't mention to Midoriya how his father might have lead to his older brother's demise. The manga will try to excuse it by saying

'Sotsu-sen shita hanasu mon ja nēdaro' 「率先して話すもんじゃねエだろ」 "I wouldn't take the initiative to speak (about it)."

Only... during his first discussion with Midoriya Shōto:

Asked Midoriya if he was All Might illegittimate son

Told him about his father buying his mother for Quirk Marriage

Told him about his mother's depression and how she ended up burning him

Told him about how he was raised to fulfill his father's expecations and how he hated it and how he'll deny his father by refusing to use his Quirk

That's quite a lot he decided to mention, but the fact he didn't mention how his father also lead his oldest brother to his demise made it seems as if Shōto didn't see Enji responsible for it... which also seems confirmed by how, when Fuyumi asks Shōto how he feels about Enji, he replies he blames him solely for his scar and driving his mother to madness, not a word for his dead older brother or for how his siblings suffered of neglect even if Natsuo made clear he still suffers for it.

Shōto is a VERY caring boy. This narrative choice seems to imply he didn't care about his siblings when it's likely the opposite. He cared for Natsuo and likely for Tōya and Fuyumi too. The way the story is told though, is misleading because it makes him look like he only cares about himself and his mother when I don't think that's the case.

Probably though, back in chap 31 Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret and here he didn't want to repeat the whole narration or give too many hints about Tōya's death so he had Shōto skip it and focus on Rei. It's a choice... but it's not a great one.

Enji also for a long while won't show concern for how he caused Tōya's death.

In chap 93 Enji thinks at how his despair lead him to ruin his family... only again there's no mention of Tōya not even visually, again likely because Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret. Still it seems as if Enji doesn't care he lead his son to death for his own ambition.

Chapter 188 is a little better as, at least, Tōya is shown along with his siblings... but it's still not great because, even though Enji is in the middle of his attempt at being a better person, here he worries about his overheating and seems to focus solely on how he married Rei and with her he had three kids who didn't have the Quirk he wanted and then to a kid who had the Quirk he wanted to fight the over heating, and doesn't concern at all with how, in the process, he also abused his family, lead Rei to madness and Tōya to death, but it can work narratively... even if it's not so great because it remarks something we already knew and doesn't focus on his regret (which would have been more important since Enji is trying to be a better person). But okay, it can work.

Probably the worst part is chap 192 because by then Enji is making clear he plans to atone but when he worries about the lives he had cut short, even though Tōya was mentioned, the visual shows us only Rei, as if she were the only life he had cut short (as she ended up in a hospital), skipping the one of his son WHO DIED.

Yes, this is probably to keep the mystery about Tōya but it's still not a great choice since he doesn't seem concerned.

Also probably because Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's (and Natsuo's) storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret in "Ultra Archive" it was said Fuyumi became a teacher solely because she felt bad about the mistreatment Shōto suffered, apparently not caring about the neglect Natsuo suffered or of how Tōya ended up dead.

Fuyumi is also showed 'not caring' when no changes are done regarding to her in chap 302.

In the magazine version Fuyumi saying "I knew our family was broken" with an image of Enji dragging away Shōto and her mother trying to stop it, can be read as "(After Tōya's death) I knew our family was broken" and this allows her to sound like she's in pain for Tōya, Shōto and her mother.

However when the manga version changes things and have Rei hospitalized before Tōya's death, showing her having a flashback of how Enji was dragging away Shōto and her mother trying to stop it, remarks she knew her family was broken PRIOR to Tōya's death but not her feelings in regard to it. This combines negatively with how it was said she became a teacher for what Shōto suffered and paints her as uncaring for what Tōya suffered.

Again, I'm sure Fuyumi cared. It's just when "Ultra Archive" was written either Horikoshi didn't think about this part of the storyline or we weren't meant to know about it so he skipped it, and in chap 302 he merely adjusted things poorly so they ended up having implications he didn't plan.

Shōto going to preschool, where other children are, but being kept isolated by his siblings because they aren't part of the Hero world, seems a contraddiction in the story. While part of it can be due to Tōya's actions when Shōto was a baby, even after Tōya's death it will be said Shōto was kept apart from Natsuo (it's unclear if the same applies to Fuyumi) but then we see that when Shōto is in U.A. he's free to also go out without supervision so it becomes weird how (or why) Enji managed to keep him apart from his siblings, when he was allowed to spend time with whoever he wanted outside of his house... and even in his house he apparently wasn't controlled.

It also doesn't speak so great of Natsuo never attempting to connect with his little brother even if "School Briefs" tries to excuse it by saying it was due to Natsuo's grief.

When giving the green sign to "Vigilantes" Horikoshi likely completely forgot that All Might and Endeavor supposedly didn't meet for 10 years as, in chap 122, the two will cooperate to stop a Villain attack. Since “Vigilantes” takes place AFTER All Might and All for One’s big fight that injured both, it can’t be more than 6 years at the very best but, much likely, it’s less as this takes place at the end of “Vigilantes”. It’s true they didn’t really talk but still, they met.

Also both the anime and the coloured version of the manga give him red hair when, by then, his hair were while.

Credits when it's due though, I don't know if Horikoshi is behind the coloured manga version or another person does the colouring and that person took the anime as inspiration. In the black and white version Horikoshi's design for Tōya is consistent as his hair aren't coloured (while he colour red hair in black), so this could be not Horikoshi's fault.

The anime seems to confirm many scenes took place during night (except for Endeavor searching for Tōya after Sekoto Peak burned)... clearly no one was keeping an eye on Tōya if Enji never noticed how late his son got home and Rei, despite knowing Tōya went on Sekoto Peak to train, never worried about her son being up on a peak alone till late at night...

That's all I could remember/find for now.

The Todoroki storyline remains my favorite in the manga but there's no deny it was handled in a way that ended up contradicting itself, likely sometimes by mistake and sometimes due to change of plans or plot reasons. It's still a great story so don't think I believe the fact it has shortcoming means it's not enjoyable.

[allwormdiet]

Gestation 1.5

I wonder if Taylor's night is gonna get any better

This is actually a really good passage for the building tension. Lung's not gonna kill our protagonist in the fifth chapter of the novel but she doesn't know that. She can see her options narrowing down and her chances getting slimmer, she doesn't know there's like, a million plus words more to her story. This could be it, and this really sells it.

Okay actually I'm gonna circle back to something I totally missed in 1.4, which is the mild comedy in Taylor hacking multiple EpiPens in her kit as a teenager with, I'm gonna guess a modest allowance? You can tell this was written by someone who hasn't had to put up with US healthcare, that's minimum like $600 bucks of medicine, and frankly I don't think it's going to be any cheaper when the predominant pharmaceutical company is run by a Nazi.

Sweet of her dad, and also I cannot imagine facing down a hitter like Lung with nothing but a can of pepper spray, Jesus Christ that's stressful. This never comes up in the retellings, Taylor has cast-iron balls to pull this stunt.

Kudos on this, it's such a cool descriptor, and again: huge props to Taylor for staring this down and not running like hell.

Side note, either Lung's eyes are a magnet for violence or else Taylor is compelled to target the eyes. Maybe both. See if it keeps happening with either of them I guess.

Something something Jurassic Park reference, also do we need the reminder that he has an accent

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH IT'S THE CAVALRY BABY

Listen I know I'm a little spoiled here and the bias is showing but I already love these kids, look at em! They decided to swing at Lung for the sake of the girl who'd already pried him off their backs, they didn't need to save her but they did. I can't wait for them all to break my heart one way or another, it's gonna rule.

Grue is real as fuck for his costume, it's so cool.

Also I desperately want to know what the conversation was like for the Undersiders to decide "yeah fuck it let's put up our dukes against the head of the ABB." Who voted in favor of that?

The "but yeah" really sells the underlying youth of the character, btw. Gonna go out on a limb and guess there's a lot of kids who feel like they need to hold themselves like adults (and then don't really know how) in this story.

Squad squad squad squad

Quick and dirty introduction to the team, good enough start as anything, also lmao at Taylor just standing there with jelly legs trying to process this and completely unable to make words happen. Poor girl

"Certainly least" my ass, kid's got style.

Can Tattletale actually stop herself from talking? Not like in a power sense I mean in a needing to be smart way. I assume she can but it's not out of the question that she just cannot put a lid on it. I've known people like that.

Also an effortless display of trust and teamwork. Tattletale says boogie and Bitch is on it immediately.

So the fox parallels just start immediately, okay. Everyone always compares her to a fox, or makes her fursona a fox, or describes a vulpine grin, and I figured that was drawing on the text but I didn't think it came up literally in the first chapter she appears.

There's a couple different emotions I feel at this last paragraph. Per usual I feel bad for Taylor because this truly just has not been her night, she gets like half a W against fucking Lung but gets scared half to death, saved by villains, and then mistaken for a villain as well. Awful way to start a career.

On the other hand, Taylor, honey, you're terrifying and used a bunch of venomous and painful insects in order to break up a gang meeting, you're in all blacks and grays with big ol yellow eyes, your entire aesthetic screams villain, this is at least partly your own fault.

On the third hand, knowing full well how important the Undersiders are gonna be, and how feared Taylor is gonna be as a future villain, it's not hard to look at this like. Well what's so bad about them being villains, and what's so bad about being mistaken for one. Obviously it's a matter of morality and perspective and stuff like that, Taylor seems to only now be dipping her toes into moral flexibility, but the gift/curse of future knowledge means there's something, I dunno, a little sweet about this encounter.

Current Thoughts

Tired. Dragging my hands down my face rn. Last one for tonight.

This was a cool sequence. Rough introduction to the Docks and ABB aside, the fight between Lung and Taylor was super cool, a great feeling of the momentum shifting between the two as Taylor's bugs stop being able to keep up with the fire, the desperate play with the pepper spray, and being just. Fully backed into a corner until she's saved by the cavalry. If this is how the fight scenes keep going for this series then I think I'm in for a fun ride.

Also yaaaaaaaaay the team has been introduced, I can't wait to find out how much of the perception of them I've gotten through fanworks and my own half-baked osmosis is going to contrast with their canon personalities. Grue being all serious and Tattletale being a smirking know-it-all literally described as fox-like feel like solid indicators, if nothing else.

Next chapters tomorrow. It's Armsmaster right after, right? See what he's like.

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 2

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapters might not have a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. I want the story to be complex. The next chapters there will have way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

“Namjoon stop it! She needs a clear head. You can’t be freaking her out with a gun!” your friend tried to reason but was just laughed at and all you heard was “Do your thing doc… or else…”. As you turned to the one you were supposed to save, you heard footsteps as more men entered the room.

You looked to the ceiling closing your eyes, realizing you are surrounded by some sort of gang members and the one bleeding out to death must be the head of the whole harpy. At this point there was no backing out, you clearly had no choice but to try and save him. You pushed away the hair from his forehead to try and feel out his temperature. He was clearly burning up. Next stage was getting cold from all the blood loss. Laying there he really didn’t look like someone who would run a gang. His features and frame seemed outright delicate.

You shook your head and pushed away the intrusive thoughts. Focus. You had to gain focus or else you would fail miserably, what also meant not walking out of there alive. Grabbing your bag you gave the men a side eye and huffed to yourself “Well you probably just decided on a death sentence for him…”.

As much as you knew how good you were, you also knew the conditions were far from ideal or even good. If it were a surgical room you would feel way more at ease and confident in pulling this off. Standing in a dark room with a patient on some rusty table made you think you landed in a war zone and it was this option or nothing at all. Hell at war you would consider this type of conditions amazing.

You started prepping yourself taking out the octenisept and iodine to disinfect as much space as possible.You put on a mask on and cloaked your hair with a cap. Throwing your sterile gloves on you took one last look at the black haired man. You could at least try and be professional about the whole situation. You had to succeed. Your life literally depended on it.

Minutes of helpless trials to grab and shut off all the bleeding vessel passed faster than a blink of an eye. You were starting to sweat and unlike yourself panic a little bit. The room was starting to feel hot and claustrophobic. This whole thing was utterly fucked up. You had to bring yourself back. Messing up was not an option.

Blood was pumping threw your body with speed that seemed to be at hundreds miles per hour. The dizziness that came from all the adrenalin was slowly creeping up your brain. Your heart tried to climb out threw your now completely dry throat. You still couldn’t fathom how in the world you turned out to be naive and blind enough to find yourself in this damn situation.

The fact that the person who dragged you into all of this was standing petrified and held at gunpoint, was not making it any easier. The tall and well built male whom others referred to as Namjoon was staring you down while holding his silver piece close to Jungkooks head. “You better not try some bullshit bitch!” he snarled angrily. His gaze was locked onto your back. You could swear you felt the heat of his eyes burning threw your skin.

You were sweaty, your hair was messy and stuck to your forehead. While elbows deep in blood you tried to stop the hemorrhaging. The long haired male laying in front of you with horrific wounds was getting paler by the minute.

“He needs a fucking hospital!” you wanted to reason with them again, a hoarse scream flew out of your lips while you were desperately trying to stop the blood. At this point you felt it was almost overflowing the whole abdominal cavity.

The brunette moved up and took his gun away from your colleges head just to put it to your temple. The coldness of the metal sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed the dry ball forming in your mouth. You were slowly out of ideas. In your mind you knew the young man should be on an operating table with blood bags hanging already. “I said no fucking hospitals!” the roared words snapped you back to reality and pierced threw you like an arrow.

As much as you wanted to rip Kooks stupid head right off his shoulders for dragging you here, you knew you had to focus on the task. You closed your eyes trying to forget about the cold sting coming from the weapon that was painfully pushed against your scull.

Exhaling threw your nose loudly you suddenly thought of something. It was brutal but you had to try. “Get me salt!” you finally spat out. “Are you fucking crazy?!” one of the men standing at the door growled. He was shorter and of a lighter built but still had something about him that made your skin crawl. All of them made you feel extremely uneasy and wonder if you were gonna die even if you end up saving their main man. You saw them. You knew their faces and location. Were they really gonna let you walk out of this breathing?

Looking into the still not moving gangsters misty eyes you gritted your teeth. “I SAID GET ME SOME DAMN SALT YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!” the words shot out of your mouth faster then you could think them threw. Luckily the insult only got them to move and fetch what you wanted. In a different situation you could imagine such talkback would only earn you a proper wack to the head.

Jungkook looked at you with worried eyes. He was trembling a bit knowing what you were planning on doing. He heard some stories about this so called “last hope” method. It was mainly used at the military when doctors were out of supplies and tools. He knew you were always fascinated by medical work in the army. Still he prayed that you had at least the slightest idea about what you were doing and were aware of all the possible outcomes.

Of course you weighed your options. This approach was not something you would do while at the hospital but given your situation you had little to no choice. You could let this shady dude die and have your life taken with him or you could try and use a risky method.

Taking the pack of salt in your surprisingly steady hands you looked at the full of lesions and oozing abdomen. Taking a deep breath you tossed the powder.

Everyone in the room except for your coworker looked in utter shock and went silent for a while. Then a “The fuck you think you are doing?!” was let out in a high pitched note by someone.

You barely made out the next obscenities that were being thrown around by the now very anxious group of criminals. You steered yourself into your work zone. Staring at the cavity you already knew you dealt your cards well. The blood finally stopped flooding in and you could now start looking for all the torn vessels and start stitching them up.

Once more you closed your eyes, moved your head to both sides. The motion let out a loud crack and gave a little relief to your aching neck. Grabbing the suturing kit from the medical bag you began to work your magic.

Being a highly well trained trauma surgeon made you capable of working fast and efficiently under hefty amounts of stress. But no training at the hospital could prepare you for being trapped in a hellhole stitching up some shady persona while being held at gunpoint.

After what seemed like ages you were finally done and your patient was by some miracle still alive. You looked at the floor around the table. It was covered in blood that was now becoming sticky. “This fucker is unkillable…” you thought to yourself. The amount of vital fluids he lost made you wonder how in the hell he still had a pulse.

You took your gloves off and threw them to the ground not giving one shit about good ethics. You did what they wanted. Cleanup was their problem and you sure as hell did not care that your actions added to the mess. Your cap and mask landed on the floor as well. You felt filthy an nauseous and had no idea what time it was but you were sure it had to already be close to morning.

The seriousness of the situation hit you brutally like a wave in the ocean. You didn’t even want to look at the gangsters or Kook. You felt completely blindsided by him. You were praying that you got to live and walk out of there. After that you would plan your perfect revenge on Jungkook, in all honesty you were even considering murder.

“Well… well… you actually managed to pull this off.” Namjoon said leaning over his boss and looking at you. “You saved the life of August D you know?” he continued as if it was supposed mean something. Being so done with everything at this point, you simply could not hold back anymore “Do I look like I give a fuck? All I want is to get out of this pit!” In response he just looked at you with an amused smile.

“Joon… we had a deal.” Kook said in a quiet voice looking a bit anxious. The tall man laughed “You of all people should not be telling me of our deals… this was the least you could do but of course you get to leave” he bowed his head.

That was your queue to run the hell out of there. They sure as fuck did not need to repeat themselves. Quickly grabbing your bag you made way to the exit. You did not care if you had to run back home on foot or try to call and wake up Hoseok, crying to pick up your naive ass.

You almost left the room when you heard “See you on the checkup doc!” this Namjoon character was sure having a blast with taunting you. Not bothering to answer you ran outside. Of course you did not plan on coming back. You were gonna get them busted and taken care of by the authorities.

Suddenly you felt a hand grab your shoulder. Your instincts taking over made you try to hit whoever dared touch you. Jungkook grabbed your fist before it made contact with his face. “Easy Y/N! It’s just me!”. You stared at him with big eyes, your mouth open from the utter shock and then just like that, you lost it.

You completely lost it. “JUST YOU?! Just you?! You fucking asshole! You could have had me killed! Do you understand?! Does your peanut brain comprehend what a fucking dick move you pulled on me?! Fuck you! Really fuck you!” your voice was deep and hoarse from all the stress of the evening. If not for the fact that you usually knew how to keep your composure, the man standing in front of you would surely be dead.

He sighed running his hand threw his hair. His eyes were darting all over the place, just to not meet yours. “I will explain to you everything on the way home Y/N…” a hysterical and sinister laugh left your lips. You even threw your head back because of how crazy this all was. “You motherfucker think I am gonna get in a car with you? After your little stunt? Wow you really are dumb aren’t you?” usually you did not like to use insults but given the situation you decided he had it coming the moment he put you in that hellhole.

He looked at you dumbfounded and surprised. Never did he get to see this side of you. “I am calling Hobi and telling him everything and this little shit show is gonna close up soon!” you said walking forward and taking out your phone.

Kookie ran after you grabbing your hand and taking your cell. His stare was serious. “Y/N! You can’t… August D… he… he owns the police department. He has them in his pocket. You think if it wasn’t the case I would not call on them long ago?”. You look at him. You try to analyze how much bullshit he is trying to sell you. But something in his eyes made you understand that was not the case and that things are way beyond complicated.

You shake your head and say “Whatever… I’ll tell Hobi.” you shrug and then see your friends face. A face telling you that it would not be a good idea to do so. “It wouldn’t change anything Y/N… He OWNES them… all of them. He basically runs the city. Trust me he is no little gangster and this shit goes deeper than the ocean…” You could not believe what was happening. You wanted to laugh and tell Jungkook he is full of it and a lying scum but his whole demeanor showed that he was being dead serious. You felt heat rush up your body. Your legs shook and threatened to give in. Looking at your colleague you whispered “Tell me what the fuck is going on…”.

* * * * * * * * *

Jungkook drove slowly and took you away from the dangerous city outskirts. He stopped at a gas station and drove into its parking lot. Turning off the engine he looked worried. You were staring straight ahead, trying to work threw the huge anxiety that was threatening to completely take over. He rubbed his face and let out a quiet groan. His eyes were glassy and you could see the guilt that consumed him.

“Explain…” you said. Your voice was washed out of any emotion. You were at the breaking point and needed to understand what was going on or you would lose your shit completely.

Kook turned to face you, trying to figure out where he should start at. He knew you may seem calm from the outside but he was sure on the inside you had to feel as the world was on fire. “I owe Yoongi money…” he blurted out word by word. “Yoongi?” you asked still not looking his way. “That is Agusts D’s real name… Min Yoongi. I owe him.” he continued. You shook your head in disbelief, of course it was about cash. “For what? Drugs? Were you an addict or something?” you finally turned to him, your gaze gloomy.

He grimaced at your words. It seemed as tho they have hurt him. “No Y/N I don’t owe him for that. I was from a very poor family. I wanted to educate myself. Be someone. Make a living, help myself and my family out… pay all their loans…” you could hear the sadness and abashment in his voice. You actually felt a bit unfair for jumping into conclusions so quickly. But what were you to think after seeing all that shady business?

“I heard about his father and the gang around the streets… when I was about to go to collage. Let’s just say I did not live in the nicest of areas…” he looked threw the window, pressing himself into the seat a bit deeper. “My parents could not afford to put me threw all the tutoring and shit needed to make it to med school… and then I earned a scholarship during my fist year of studies, that allowed me go to USA. In that time Yoongis dad was murdered together with most of the old group. Needles to say the son took over the father and that of course ment my debts didn’t go away…”

You blew the air out of your lungs loudly and asked “How much do you owe them? Maybe I can pitch in… get you out of this…” he just laughed strangely at your proposition. “That’s sweet Y/N. I don’t deserve you as a friend. The thing is with August D it isn’t about money. He found out what I was doing with the loan so he made sure I end up his gangs doctor, that is why I am a gp… if not for this shit I always wanted to specialize in ortho…” he shook his head while letting his shoulders slouch being well aware what situation he was in. “I paid off all my parents bank loans… got them an apartment but the price is that he owns me in a way…” he looked at you with sorry eyes.

“Shit Kook… why didn’t you say anything? Maybe we could have had planned something to get you out? You know who my fiancé is… maybe he can…” you stopped mid sentence remembering what your friend said before - he owns them all, ha has them in his pocket. His face turned pale. Nervousness spilled all over him. He didn’t want to have this discussion. Unraveling all of this was never his intention. You did not deserve this.

“Is Hoseok involved with them…? Did you ever see him there?” you questioned and snapped him back to reality. “I never saw him Y/N but I heard them talk about him and his partner. They were setting up meetings. You remember that murder case in Guro that was all over the news?” you nodded your head “Yea… Hobi was leading it. He said there was some sort of gang dealing.”

Your friend looked at you with a serious face. He tried to check if you followed what he was trying to say “Yea… it was Agust D’s people that took out the guys who tried to go around his back and push drugs on not their turf. The police is well aware who killed those people Y/N and they together with your fiancé took hush money…”

You stared at him. You wanted to smack his face for making such accusations about Hobi. He did not see it happen. Who knows what he even heard. How dare him say such things.

As if reading your mind he said “Yes I did not see him but before you tell him anything about this night make sure to test the waters Y/N. Trust me you are gonna find out they are murky as fuck. Hoseok is dirty like all of the police. It all goes far back…”

“Well if that is the case then why the hell are you telling me this just now?! What kind of friend are you supposed to be? Why would you sit on this information?!” you yelled at him and hit the dashboard with all your strength causing Kookie to flinch and jump up a bit.

“I didn’t say anything because yea he is a dirty cop but it doesn’t mean he don’t love you or is otherwise a bad person. Life is not always black and white Y/N. Plus I never thought we would be in this mess. I never thought I’d drag you into this but here we fucking are and I just don’t want you to get into more trouble then I already put you in. So I beg you, please try and feel out the situation before you tell Hoseok about any of this. Please…” the worry and desperation in his voice had you realize he really believed the man you lived with was entangled with those criminals.

Sighing you agreed not to make quick decisions without finding out the details. “Does this mean I have to see those thugs again?” your voice got shaky from all the anxiety that was trying to get to the surface and take over your body. Kookie shook his head quickly “Nah. Namjoon was just tormenting you. I can handle it from here. What I could not manage was those wounds. They don’t teach you how to handle that level as a gp. Simple wounds and general post op care? Yea… So don’t worry. They will forget you exist very soon” you looked to the floor slowly feeling a bit relieved but also very tired.

“I am sorry for putting you on the spot like that Y/N. I did not know who else to turn to and if I wouldn’t have handled the situation or at least try, then they would go after my family. That doesn’t mean what I did was right and that I don’t I regret it. I’ve let fear take over and made a bad decision. I am truly sorry. You have always been nothing but a good friend to me and I fucked it up…” he did not dare look at you. He in all honesty feared of losing one of the best people in his life.

“Yea that was a dick move Koo and it will take me some time to recover from, but at least now I understand. I can’t say I would make better choices in your situation so I would be a hypocrite to cut you off from my life completely. Just know this… if I ever deal with some gang bangers you are the first I will throw into the pit with them” a small smile crept over your lips. As much as you were angry and disappointed you did not hate him and you didn’t want to give up your friendship.

A sigh of relief flew out of his mouth. He needed to hear that from you. He needed to know not all was a lost cause. Now was time to focus on fixing the trust he has broken. “Oh and also don’t expect me to help out with charity work tomorrow. You are on that boat alone. I am too tired and my mind is utter chaos. I would not be of any use.” He blinked fast and said “Of course understandable! Also i think you meant today, it is already 3:00 a.m. So let’s get you home.”

You nodded, you had no idea it was already next morning. Home. Home was just what you needed right now. A long hot bath to wash away all the stench and filth of that dreadful place. A glass of wine to blur out the memories. The only problem was that home also meant Hoseok and you were starting get that pinging feeling in the back of your head that you were in for a fucking ride.

Tag list: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @danielle143 @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @kootieful @nochook

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 5)

✨ possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f)

✨ head on over to my masterlist if you haven’t checked out the previous chapters!

✨wc: ~6.6k

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? obsession? angst and future smut??? a little fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ author’s notes: pls pls pls let me know if you’d prefer shorter, more frequent chapters like this one, OR longer chapters posted about once per week. i’m heavily debating lol

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time.

Previous Chapter Recap:

“No need, I already told him!” Felix winked down at you, nudging his elbow into your side. What the hell?

“Oh really? I didn’t know you two were close like that.” Literally not once had you seen any sign that they’d spoken to each other, let alone were good enough friends to keep in touch about girls they were taking to lunch.

“With Chan-hyung? We’re about as close as two people can get,” he laughed. “No way. I knew all along. And you’re welcome by the way. I may or may not have encouraged it hehe.” You watched as his eyes sparkled while they smiled. It would have been adorable if you had any clue what he was talking about.

All you could do was stare blankly at him. A confused expression must have been on your face long enough for Felix to notice.

“We are talking about Chan-hyung, right?”

“No… I got the flowers from Jungkook,” you said sheepishly.

You could see Felix’s eyes shoot open, going into panic mode. Fight or flight, I guess.

“Wait, are you talking about? OHHH those flowers! The ones from today. Ohhh okay, nevermind. Sorry, I was thinking about something completely different,” he rapidly mumbled out. He looked like he could start sweating at any minute, waiting to get your eye of approval.

‘Okay, so 2 possibilities. #1: Felix needs a lot more sleep. Or #2: Chan was going to give me flowers?!?!’

Note: Character relations you can refer back to if needed.

Y/n- Changbin’s mentee

Anna- best friend, Felix’s mentee

Kara- Seungmin’s mentee

Sunnie- Han’s mentee

Mindi- Hyunjin’s mentee

Nisha- Lee Know’s mentee

Alyssa- Jeongin’s mentee

Jenna- Chan’s mentee

——————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV:

You settled back into your usual sphere of friends in the filming room. Just you, Anna, Kara, and Sunnie. Of course some of the boys jumped in on the discourse.

“Alright Hannie, be honest,” Sunnie questioned, still standing in the group. “Who out of us,” she motioned to the rest of the girls in the group’s circle, “do you think will mess up the most during our shoots?” She put a big grin on her face.

“Uhhh, I mean I think you’ll all do really great to be honest so-“ Han tried, but got cut off.

“Kara obviously,” Seungmin interrupted. “As her mentor, I can confidently say that I have trained her to be a menace.” He was joking, of course but GOD he never looked like it. “Well, not as good as me, but she will learn.”

Kara laughed and fake smacked him on the arm.

“No, but really, be honest. What do we need to worry about? You are literally our mentors so you can’t let us look lame,” Sunnie started again. You knew that Changbin proceeded to give a sarcastic response, but the hint of a figure passing by caught your attention instead.

Chan had arrived. He looked so good, but so out of his normal. You realized then that it wasn’t just Changbin who surprised you, but you’d never seen any of the boys dress up before. You and Changbin looked killer- all black, and honestly kinda sexy. You surprised yourself even.

But not Chan. No, he was in soft colors. Pastels. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen him in something like that- just so NOT like him. You silently wondered if he would come to your group to converse with everyone else. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to or not.

You made sure not to turn your head too far in his direction. You didn’t want him to see you glancing over, but you definitely didn’t want any of your friends in the group to notice you looking either. You tried to focus your eyes back on Han who seemed to be the only one who would give actual advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix shift slightly, lifting his head up. You saw him look in Chan’s direction, then look down to see if you had noticed. You quickly darted your eyes away. Satisfied that you were paying attention elsewhere, he directed his head toward Chan across the room and open his eyes wide. Somehow he had a look of both questioning and embarrassment on his face. You didn’t dare move to look at Chan’s reactions.

After a minute or two of trying to zone in on Han, you gave up. You shifted your weight and crossed your arms, shrugging your shoulders up and rolling your neck around to “try to get a kink out”… if that meant trying to get a secret look at Chan of course.

You found him in your periphery on the other side of the room. He was standing with Jenna and Alyssa, making small talk or prepping them for the filming, you guessed. You could see Jenna’s almost-matching pastel outfit and it made you want to vomit with how sweet it was. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit jealous that she was matching so well with Chan. You’d be lying even more if you said it didn’t bother you that he’d momentarily rested his hand on her shoulder while talking with them. You’d be lying even more if you said she was too pretty for him. ‘FML.’

Chan had such a wild smile on his face, staring down with his big dimples. You couldn’t believe he was actually getting along with the both of them. They were literally like talking to a wall… Maybe the wall opens up and changes its appearance a little for a cute guy though.

Damn, if this was the shove you needed to move you in Jungkook’s direction, it was definitely working.

Kara, standing a couple people over from you in the circle, must have noticed Chan coming through in his displaced pastels as well. He was a magnet, what could you say?

You noticed her scoffing over. Everyone else noticed as well.

“Kara, everything okay?” Anna asked, being the last to notice but the first to call her out.

“I was just observing,” she smirked, nodding her head in Chan’s direction. Everyone turned to look as Chan lightly nudged an elbow into Jenna’s side.

‘God, please kill me.’

Sunnie fired back with a smug look. “Oooo so *that’s what Felix was talking aboutttt,” she dragged on.

… The guys, including you and Anna, looked around, staring blankly at each other.

“What do you all know that I don’t?” Seungmin asked, staring down both of the girls.

‘Agreed,’ you thought.

“Did you literally not hear Felix at lunch?” Kara looked up at him. All the Stray Kids members looked confused.

Felix looked defensive all of a sudden. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant! I was just joking I swear!” He tried to force a laugh. “I swear it was just a joke!”

“Yeah rightttt,” Kara scoffed. “It’s so obvious that she’d be that way. It makes so much sense.”

“Okay, what are you guys talking about?” you finally piped up.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Changbin backed you up.

Felix looked off, like he would just ignore the question forever. Kara ran her eyes across his face, then rolled them back into her head.

“Oh so NOW you are shy?!” she threw at him. “Well Felix kinda let it slip that Chris was crushing on someone who was already accounted for, but that it would all work out.”

The boys all looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Oh my gosh, that’s not how I meant it! I mean I was just joking around!” Felix plead, acting fake hurt. “Literally we were just talking about who YOU ALL found cute, and then yeah, I said that Chris was wanting someone who was already accounted for but, but-“ he started to fumble his words. “I mean I was just messing around! I meant that Chris was into me, but I’m accounted for of course,” he let out a nervous laugh.

“Accounted for? By who? And your mom doesn’t count.” Seungmin smirked.

“No, with Binnie!” Felix put on a fake pout again, grabbing Changbin by the arm. “And don’t you talk about us that way!” Everyone got to laughing, and I guess Felix’s explanation was good enough to put everyone’s mind at rest.

‘Nice cover, Felix.’

Kara wasn’t completely sold though. She motioned for everyone to scoot in closer before leaned her head down and began to whisper. “Listen, I’m serious though. I don’t mean to step on any toes, I swear I don’t… But the rumor going around really is that Chan’s got his eye on one of the mentees,” she looked up to see everyone’s reaction. “Now, if you guys say that it isn’t true, then it isn’t true, but that’s what’s been going around. AND word on the street is that she is also fucking Jungkook.”

‘GODDAMN IT. I AM NOT FUCKING JUNGKOOK! HOW IN THE HELL DOES ONE DATE EQUATE TO FUCKING THIS MAN?!’

‘And now, if anyone does see us together, I’m royally fucked… May even get kicked off the show for the bad publicity. I’ve got to find a way to shut that shit down.’

You secretly watched Felix’s face drop. In that moment, he had confirmed his previous theory that you had been seeing Jungkook and rejected Chan.

‘Welp, this is awkward.’

“Alright well if someone’s fucking Jungkook, then they’re fucking Jungkook. None of my business. But if Chan was into someone, he would have told us by now,” Changbin chimed in.

Felix looked to the ground.

“I mean maybe... Unless he was embarrassed. Sure doesn’t seem like it now though,” she glanced back over. You let your eyes follow in that direction. Chan was now propped up with one hand against the wall, smiling down towards Jenna with a smirk on his face.

‘I don’t even care,’ you thought.

But you did. You knew you did.

———————————————————————

Felix’s POV:

Filming was about to start. The directors had each of you pair up into your mentor couples and wait for more instructions.

“Hold on, I have to go find Chan real quick!” Felix told Anna.

“Alright, you know where to find me,” she smiled back.

Felix quickly made his way over to where Chan stood. Next to Jenna of course.

“Hey, can you come here for a second? I have a question,” Felix directed toward Chan, offering a polite smile when Jenna looked his way too.

“Yeah sure,” Chan said, letting Felix lead him toward the back of the room away from everyone else.

Chan was totally on edge. Felix could tell.

“What the fuck happened?” Felix questioned.

“What happened with what?” Chan retorted, pretending he didn’t know what Felix was getting at.

Felix just stared at him, rolling his eyes up. Annoyed. He stood there in silence, not letting himself be the one to give in. Finally Chan did.

“Look, I saw her with Jungkook, bro. He gave her flowers and she looked happy. End of story. Nothing else to talk about,” he huffed, ready to walk back. He was holding it back well, but Felix knew him well enough to know he was hurt.

Chan looked down and shook his head, imagining what Felix must be thinking. Felix had encouraged him early on to message you… but he just never did. Not until he was scared someone else was interested in you that is.

“Whatever mate, but just know this whole look-“ Felix pointed a finger, dragging it across the path to Chan and Jenna, “isn’t a cute one. Almost every other contestant has something bad to say about her.”

“Come on man, she’s not that bad.”

“Literally look at her face right now,” Felix motioned over.

A look of pure boredom and disdain was washed over her. She glanced down to her nails, then back up to her surroundings, almost as if she was trying to size anyone and everyone up. She was off on her own, not attempting to strike up a conversation with any of the 40+ people in the room.

“So she has a hard exterior,” Chan tried to cover. “But she’s actually really nice once you start talking to her.”

“Tell me one nice thing she’s had to say.”

“Well she was talking about how excited she was to see me.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“She was also talking about how I looked good in pastels. Told me that they suited me more than black and that I should switch it up.”

“That doesn’t count either. What is ONE nice thing she’s said that wasn’t about you?”

Chan stood for a moment. “Well, I mean,” he grabbed his neck and looked down. “Like I said, she’s a hard one to crack.”

“Do what you want, but going after your own mentee isn’t a good look. I’ll tell you that if no one else will.”

Felix turned to walk away, but spun right back around on his toes. “By the way, someone is now spreading a rumor that whoever you’re into is fucking Jungkook. Just thought you should know before you made anyone look bad.”

With that, he briskly walked off.

—————————————————————

Y/n’s POV:

Shooting actually went really well. Way better than you’d expected. It wasn’t nearly as scary as you thought it’d be, and you think you actually got some great takes.

They had let you talk about medical school, and what it was like to train in today’s world post-COVID. You got to talk about the reason you were interested in medicine in the first place, and how the 7-year-old you would be so proud to see you now, living out your biggest dream. They asked all the right questions, and you gave all the right answers. You were starting to feel hopeful that you could make a connection with the audience of the show.

Of course, all of the scenes with Changbin were perfect too. You silently thanked the heavens that you got paired with the coolest guy to be your mentor. The banter between the two of you was perfect. One moment that specifically stood out was when they shot a scene of Changbin trying to give you tips and that, as his mentee, you were gonna have to be tough and do some of the heavy lifting to make him proud. He made you practice an example, as he bent himself face-down at his hips and pulled on your arms to rotate your body into the air and land on the other side of his.

“See, easy! Now you try,” he had instructed.

And try you did… But FAIL you also did. You tried your best to keep your legs firmly planted on the ground, but with the weight of Binnie directly over top of you, you couldn’t help but fall to the ground, letting him fall along on top of you. Neither of you got hurt, but you both almost died of laughter, holding onto each other on the floor. You laughed so hard you thought you’d cry.

It may have hurt your ego a little, but damn if it wasn’t gonna make for some cute content for the show.

You felt a quiz buzz coming from your pocket. You took it out to check the screen, showing a text from JK. After the date, you had decided that exchanging numbers was way better than having to talk through instagram.

You smiled at how interested he was in your life.

You shoved your phone back in your pocket, warm feeling still coming on.

“Are you coming to the dinner later?” you turned to Changbin.

His eyes lit up. “I mean I hadn’t really planned on it, but are you going?”

“Honestly, I think it’s mandatory for us to go. But I’m excited anyways. Everyone should be there. Have you been to the restaurant?”

“Which one is it?”

“Nine Mile.”

“Damn, that’s a pretty nice restaurant. Especially if the company is paying.”

“Then you’d *better come with me,” you laughed, nodding your head his way.

“Alright, alright. It’s a date,” he smiled. “Only for the food though.”

“Well of course.”

—————————————--

After a quick trip back to the hotel with Anna to freshen up and get caught up on all of the day’s happenings, you felt exhausted. I mean, today was probably the most eventful day of your life. You went on a date with Jungkook, got blown off by Chan and then had to watch him flirt with another girl, and then get through 3-ish hours of filming for a TV show you didn’t even think you belonged on. You really just wanted to lie in bed and talk with Anna, then pass out for the night.

But you couldn’t. The night must go on. You reminded yourself that you should be grateful for every opportunity, no matter how tired you were.

JK had texted you back, letting you know he also had plans for the night, but to have fun at the dinner with Changbin. The emotions you felt were still extremely mixed, but you decided to just take each moment as it came. Otherwise, you’d be too overwhelmed to even think.

Once you had finished freshening up, you and Anna set out to the restaurant in your normal, everyday clothes. You couldn’t lie, being in medical school made you adopt a new sense of fashion. Corporate baddie? You realized this quickly when you came to Korea and saw the street style that most others wore. You and Anna couldn’t help it though- your closet now consistent of only 2 things: (1) scrubs, (2) trendy oversized blazers. Out of the 2 options, the only one you deemed appropriate to bring was the latter.

You didn’t mind standing out a bit though. Some people in Korea even had similar styles, just a bit more muted than the two of you. It was obvious from the looks you got while walking the street- not bad looks, the reverse actually.

You looked down to examine your black heels and matching black oversized blazer. You made sure to pair it with dark jeans and lots of jewelry to set a more casual tone… and also to stop yourself from looking like you could pull out a reflex hammer and give a full-on neurological exam at any moment. But it was night time after all, and it was freezing. You had to cover up as best you could.

You couldn’t lie, you also had to make sure you spritzed on a couple sprays of your favorite sensual perfume. Just for good measure. You never knew who you would see.

There was a reason you and Anna were besties, you thought as you looked to your bestfriend walking next to you. She complimented both you and your style so well. Business casual, but make it hot.

You finally arrived at the restaurant two minutes early. But to your surprise, the huge reserved section in the back was already almost completely full. Everyone was really making sure they were on time, you guessed.

You both meandered your way in, stopping to say “hi” to some of the other new trainees that you recognized. From a distance, Changbin flagged you down. He motioned for you to come to where he was sat.

“I figured you and Anna would come together. I saved you both a seat!,” he said, standing up out of his chair. He grabbed the chair seated next to his and pulled it out for you to sit down.

‘Too sweet,’ you thought as you took your place. “Thanks Binnie!”

The other seat next to you was presumably for Anna, so you waited for Changbin to pass you and pull it out for her as well.

“Anna,” he caught her attention, instead turning the other way to take his seat. “That seat is for you!,” he smiled, pointing down to it.

It was hard to hear with the loud noises coming from the crowd around you, but she understood what he was saying and took her spot.

Sitting in front of you were a few other trainees that you had met a couple of times before. Both girls and guys- all super nice. You exchanged formal “hello’s” and “how are you doing?”.

You scanned the room to look for the other boys, but only Felix was in sight, standing far in the other corner of the room and talking with some of the new male trainees.

“Binnie, did none of the kids come except Felix?” you looked at him.

“Nah, they were all working on stuff. But don’t worry, I’ll always make time for you!” He spread a loving smile across his face.

You couldn’t believe you were so lucky to get Changbin as your mentor. Hardly any of the mentors were here. You had made sure to carefully check for any sight of Chris, but to your relief, he was nowhere to be found.

———————————————

The rest of the night was filled with plenty of amazing food, fun conversations, and new deep connections made with other contestants.

But if you were being honest, you definitely knew you had a few too many drinks. You were feeling good, yes. But almost past the point of feeling good. You could feel your stomach start to get the tiniest bit queasy and the world around you started to blur the tiniest bit. Your head felt like it was floating.

‘Okay y/n, you are cut off,’ the last ounce of soberness in your brain thought. But that is where the final sober thought ended.

“Binnie, can I be honest?” you leaned into him, almost letting your face touch his chest.

He looked down at you with big eyes. “Of course, what’s up?”

“I’m just…” you trailed off, beginning to look at his lips and then back up to his face. “I’m just really happy you’re here with me.” You smiled.

“I’m happy too. Thank you for inviting me to come.”

“Well you are always invited to come anywhere with me. I want you to know that.”

He blushed.

That should have been your signal. That should have been your warning to stop yourself. In your drunken state, you couldn’t sense that your words would come across as flirty. You didn’t mean it in that way- not in the slightest. You just wanted to express your love and appreciation to your friend. It was innocent, honestly. But Bin couldn’t tell that.

“You’re so sweet, y/n.” He leaned down further into you until his lips were hovering just above your head. “And if I’m honest, I’m really glad that I’m getting to know you better.” He let out a soft smile.

You went in for a hug, burying your face into his chest in the process. His chest was so strong and warm. “I needed to hear that… I wish everyone else felt the same,” you accidentally let slip out. Again, you didn’t even realize what you were saying. You were too far gone and you needed to go home.

“Like who? Is anyone giving you a hard time?” Changbin asked.

“No, it’s- well maybe. I don’t know. It’s nothing…” you paused. “Binnie, I think I’ve done all I can do tonight,” you accidentally leaned over into him. “I think I need to go home.”

“Yeah of course. Stay here for just a second. Let me get Anna.”

He gently got up from his chair, so as not to startle you too much, and walked a few steps toward Anna who had moved into a group of people who were stood chit-chatting.

He returned to you a few seconds later. “Anna is going to stay around for a while. Is it okay if I walk you to your hotel?” He reached his hand out for you to take it.

You happily obliged, using his hand to lift up all your weight in your stupor state. You felt a little unbalanced, but nothing that you couldn’t manage. Nothing that you couldn’t walk off on the way back to the hotel anyway.

Bin swiftly moved behind you, using one arm to stabilize around your waist and the other to reach out in front of you to continue to give your hand the needed stability. This way, he could see you right in front of him as you walked and make sure you didn’t trip over.

You both took slow steps toward the exit, breezily waving goodbye on your way out.

Your eyes caught Felix’s on your way out. You tried to wave, just a simple acknowledgment.

You may have been drunk, but not drunk enough to make out the the panic on Felix’s face. You couldn’t ponder on it for too long though, as a slight step up past the doorframe caught your foot.

You felt yourself lose balance, about to topple over, but Changbin felt your change in positioning and clung onto your tighter. As suddenly as you felt yourself begin to fall, you felt yourself stay stationary in the air.

“Ahhh,” you mumbled.

“Alright, come on. Up, up, up,” Changbin said lowly while pulling your body back to standing.

You giggled once he got you up. “I didn’t know you were that strong!” you said, excitedly, as you collected yourself enough to step forward again and out of the restaurant.

He moved his arm now to link up with yours. “This is why I train up! So I can catch you apparently,” he laughed.

You let out a giggle as you stepped into the cold wind. It caught you off guard, not remembering how cold it had been when you’d arrived. One more step and one huge gust of wind almost knocked you off balance again. You felt your leg start to teeter.

“Woah, woah!” Changbin laughed, catching your body from the side this time. “Be careful or you’re gonna take us both down!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this was. Was it funny because of the alcohol? Absolutely. Without it, you’d be humiliated beyond belief. But now, you were more amused than you had been in the last week. You couldn’t stop giggling, cueing Changbin to start chuckling back at you.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he said, once you stabilized.

“Okay, okay,” you took a deep breath in and then snapped your fingers. “I’m good. I’m good! Okay, I’ve got this. Let’s go,” you smiled.

He roped his arm back around yours to give you an anchor as you both walked, now both stepping out past the side of the restaurant, no worries in the world.

——————————————————————

Chan’s POV:

He sat on the couch of his studio for a moment, taking in his surroundings.

He didn’t know why he’d done it. He didn’t know why he’d done any of this. Why he canceled on you, why he brushed you off when you clearly wanted to speak with him, why he tried to make you jealous earlier.

After all, Felix told him that you had something with Jungkook. What did he expect? That it was just a rumor? That if he texted you right then, any plans you had with JK would just magically disappear?

Did he expect you to just drop everything and fall in love with him?

The only reason he got the balls to message you in the first place was because Felix told him you were going to see someone else. So why was he backing out now?

He guessed the stress of ACTUALLY seeing the two of you together- physically present in front of him- set him off. He didn’t even want to think about you being that close to another man, let alone see it.

It should have been him doing that with you. But, like always, he blew his own fucking chance.

He freaked out. He shut himself down and shut you out. He wanted to make you feel the same way he felt seeing you with someone else.

He sat and pondered for a moment.

‘It’s all in your head anyways, Chris. She’s not jealous over what you’re doing. She probably hasn’t even thought twice about you since. All you’re doing is making yourself look like a dick who goes after their own mentee…’

‘And Felix is right, it’s not a good look. Jenna objectively sucks. You don’t want to be associated with that. Hell, the conversations you had today were bone dry. You still have to support her, but from a distance will be fine.’

‘It’s just… ahhh,’ he threw his elbows down to rest over his knees, bringing his head down to his hands and letting them trace through his hair. He started pulling harshly at the strands of hair sliding through his fingers.

‘Why is it so fucking hard for you? Why can’t you just forget about her? You’re not going to, are you?’

‘But it doesn’t matter, you’re too much of a pussy to do anything anyways. You had her literally coming to your studio, and then you backed out like a fucking coward because of what? Because you saw someone else has a crush on her?’

‘Damn right Jungkook has a crush on her- he’d be crazy not to. But she only likes him because she doesn’t know how good YOU could be to her. You haven’t said or done shit!’

‘So why in the fuck are you sitting here moping, when you could actually apologize for being shitty and weird? You’re literally gonna just watch and do nothing and hope that nothing comes of this so you can have your chance?’

‘No, you’ve got to talk to her. So what, she’s been on a date or two with JK? It’s not like they were official or anything- if they were, you would have definitely heard about it.’

‘She could be way more into you than she is into him if you just TRY. Just do it. COME ON.’

Chris jumped up off the couch. This was probably the best timing he was going to get, and it was now or never. He had already checked with Felix, so what was he waiting for?

He looked at his reflection in the camera app on his phone.

He’d looked worse, he thought. He was just grateful to be changed out of those god-awful pastels.

He threw his black fluffy jacket on and grabbed the flowers he had purchased for you this morning, silently thanking himself that he didn’t throw them away earlier in a jealous rage.

Heading out of the company building, he kept the pep talk going in his mind as he quickly dashed toward the Nine Mile restaurant. He silently thanked god that it was only a few minutes away.

‘You’ve got this, Chris.’

‘It’s nothing, it’s nothing! It’s literally nothing.’

‘All you have to say is what you feel. It’s that simple. You want to get to know her more and you’d like to see her sometime, not at the company.’

‘She doesn’t have to know everything else. She doesn’t have to know you saw her earlier. She doesn’t have to know that’s why you canceled on her.’

‘But damn you may have some explaining to do if she brings something up about you and Jenna.’

‘No, she probably didn’t even notice or care.’

‘All you can do is lay it out on the table. If she doesn’t want you, then she doesn’t want you. But at least you can say you tried. You can live with no regrets.’

‘Come on, don’t back out. You can do this. You can do this,’ he repeated to himself as he saw the glow of the restaurant’s sign quickly approaching.

He quickly looked down to check his phone and get the time. He was hoping you hadn’t left yet by the time he got there.

As he went to put the phone away, he heard a familiar voice.

“Chan! Hey, what are you doing?”

Fuck. It couldn’t be.

The voice was recognizable, but the outline, not so much. All black outfit with a black mask. If Chan hadn’t heard him speak, he’d have no clue it was Jungkook. He was just standing there, leaning against the wall of the business directly next to the restaurant. It was a little ominous really, hidden away in the shadow of a street sign- the light of the moon not even able to hit him.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Chan tried to play it off like he wasn’t internally freaking out.

“Ah, I was just about to meet a friend. What about you? Are you headed to the JYP party in there?” He motioned to the restaurant.

‘Okay great, so he’s here to meet a “friend” and just so happened to know that YOU would be here… a SECOND date with him in one goddamn day?!’

Chris got extremely flustered. All of the confidence he once held was now leaving his body entirely.

Did he want to be brave? Yes.

Did he want to prove that he could be better for you? Yes.

Did he idealize in his head how this night was going to go and now that’s all going to shit? Yes.

Chan was officially in panic mode.

“Ah you know what, I was going to head in for a bit, but damn, you just reminded me! I ran off and left my wallet. I’m gonna have to go find it before someone else does. Ah fuck,” he lied through his teeth.

“I’m sorry man, that’s the worst! Do you need me to hold your stuff for you til you get back?” JK said, looking down to the flowers in Chan’s hands.

“Oh these? Yeah, it’s a ... friend’s birthday! So I had picked these up. But uhm… Actually, if you want them you can have them! By the time I walk back and turn everything upside down to find my wallet, I don’t know that I’ll actually make it back here. The flowers are probably gonna die tonight without water anyway, so I’ll have to buy another batch tomorrow. Please feel free to take them off my hands if you think you or someone else could use them. Seriously."

Chris didn’t really know why he said this. He didn’t know why he had lied about so much. He owed NOTHING to JK. Were they friends? Sure, but not close enough to feel bad about liking the same person.

He just needed to be out of this moment quick.

There he was again- a coward. Running away from his feelings, he knew. He knew he was ruining it yet again. But he couldn’t confront this reality. Not now. Not so openly and in front of everyone. He needed to get out fast.

“I mean sure man, I’ll take them if you don’t want them. I’ll find someone to give them to at least,” JK smiled down and took the bouquet into his hands. “Be careful going back in this cold! It’s getting ridiculous.”

All of a sudden, Chan heard it. It was unmistakable. His favorite sound in the world. Your laugh was coming closer.

He looked off a few yards away to see you stumbling out of the restaurant, holding tightly to Changbin.

In that moment, he was cursing his luck that Changbin got to have you as a mentee instead of him.

He knew you'd be searching for Jungkook at any moment. He needed to get out fast.

“Yeah, you too man. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Chan turned on his heels with his head down and sped away. He didn't dare look back for fear of what he might see. He knew he couldn't take it again.

In that moment, he was thankful for the strong wind chill hitting his face, drying out the singular tear rolling down his cheek.

At least he knew his flowers would get to you somehow.

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

Y/n's POV:

You held on to Binnie for dear life, making small strides so as not to lose the little bit of balance you had.

"I've still got to have a mentee for the show, so we have to get you back in one piece! If not, I'll kill you," Changbin said, letting out a chuckle.

In your drunken state, it made you cackle.

"You couldn't kill anyone Binnnnnnieee. You're too sweet," you smiled and booped him on the nose. You felt yourself lose your footing the slightest bit, but quickly moved your hand back to your side to stabilize.

"I'm sweet, but that doesn't mean I couldn't crush you in two seconds," he teased. "One squeeze while I've got you in a headlock and you're a goner."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try!" you challenged him, stopping mid-stride and taking one step back.

"Oh you're on!" he made quick work to pull your arm around to your side, moving your whole body along with it until you were turned away from him. One swift movement had his bicep around the side of your neck, arm extended around the other half, until his hand reached your opposite shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt yourself working harder to breathe.

He took his other hand and harshly rubbed it as fast as he could on the top of your head. "Noogies just for good measure!" he yelled.

"Okay, OKAY, you win! I give up!" you choked out as best as your could.

Suddenly, he released the pressure off of your neck and you took a deep breath in, your red face trying to tame itself.

As you panted, Changbin teased you. "So what were you saying about me not being able to absolutely destroy you?"

You playfully, lightly shoved into him. "Shut up. Knowing that, I don't know if I want you to walk me back now! Wouldn't want to risk anything, ya know?"

"I promise to not use my skills anymore tonight. Deal?" he laughed and held his extended arm out for you to loop your own into.

"Deal," you smiled and wrapped your arm around his, starting back on the journey to your original destination.

As you went to turn your head, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A dark figure gently shifted in the shadow behind the restaurant. Fully black clothed, mask on his face. But the shoes- the shoes were a dead giveaway.

'Aren't those the shoes Jungkook was wearing earlier?'

You'd never forget them. Black, but with golden laces and a bit of golden detailing on the slight platform. You'd made a mental note earlier of how nice they were. You could barely make them out in the darkness, but there was no mistaking that they were the same pair.

You were looking back now, trying to make full eye contact. Why wasn't he coming to say hi to you?

His body shifted back further into the unlit cove.

An overwhelming feeling of uneasiness washed over you. You snapped your head back around to the front, focusing now on your walking. You started to pick up the pace as best you could.

"Woahhh, you okay?" Changbin said, noticing the shift.

You honestly didn't know.

'Why would Jungkook be here? Let alone be lurking in the shadows instead of coming to talk to you?'

'He knew you'd be here,' you told yourself. 'And he knew you'd be here with Bin. Is that what this is about? He's jealous already? Jealous enough to freaking follow you around all night? How could he not "trust you" if you weren't even together?'

You felt your heart begin to race inside your chest. Looking down at the ground, you whispered, "Binnie... I may be paranoid but think I might be getting followed."

Your strides were even wider now, as Changbin tried to follow suit.

"Why? Did you see something?!"

"There's this guy I know standing back there at the corner of the building where it was totally dark. I told him earlier that I'd be here with you. He didn't even acknowledge that I was here. Please just get me home!"

You both started moving as quickly as you could toward the end of the street, rounding a corner. You looked back to see if Jungkook was still in site. You didn't see anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't still following.

Changbin flagged down a cab and pushed the both of you inside.

"The JYP Building, please. Quickly." he instructed the cab driver.

"That's the opposite direction of my hotel! Here, it's actually-" you tried to chime in until Changbin cut you off.

"If someone is following you, do you really want them to know which direction to take for your hotel?"

'Good point.'

"JYP Building please!" you yelled toward the cab driver. You clung tight to Changbin's arm, swerving your head frantically to get a view through all of the windows.

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

✨ Continue to ➡️ Chapter 6

✨If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨author's note: i know the past few chapters have been a bit tough, but i promise the next chapter starts to look up :)

[bi-hop]

Someone asked me the other day who the trans characters are in my uni fic and I was a little puzzled before realizing I hadn’t actually put Kabru using testosterone gel in the fic yet, it was just in my ‘Labru stuff’ note in my notes app. Lmao

Anyway this will be in the next chapter (albeit expanded upon). Random ass rambles under the cut as per usual

I’m not really scared of shots, but the prospect of either having to commute regularly to get them done when I can’t drive or doing it myself with my hand tremors is scary. So I haven’t really explored going on T yet. HOWEVER AndroGel and stuff like that compels me for that reason. The only issue would be remembering to apply it

I did realize though I was imagining it as like… gel packets? Have y’all ever seen packets filled with goo? But I looked it up and a lot of them look more like lotion or soap. I may or may not leave a joke about that in the chapter itself, we’ll see

‘Human’ as a term here is used in the typical way Kabru uses it, so referring to races like tall-men, elves, dwarves, etc. I don’t really know if demihumans can use it safely, not that the distinction between the terms is that consistent anyway. In the Eastern Archipelago, the product definitely says something else because of their more strict use of human. Gnome-approved is a joke about products that are like “dermatologist-approved”, “neurologist-approved”, you know, due to the whole “healers often wear robes styled after the gnomish religion, even if they’re not gnomes” thing. (Look at Holm and Falin’s outfits. It’s also clear in the art where they swap outfits.) Finally, despite the gel being magic, it just works like testosterone gel in our world. Legality stuff-

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 2: Does the Devil Have a Heart

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: There's something particularly intriguing about the woman Charlie found sleeping in the stable that morning.

Word Count: 3,009

Notes: Warnings for references to animal abuse and injuries.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: The Red Haired Woman

The gate to Charlie’s yard swung shut behind Tommy was a clang, the sound echoing in announcement of his presence. Taking a slow drag from his cigarette, he stalked forward, shoes kicking up mud. It had rained heavily the night before; the thunder and racket of droplets crashing against his roof keeping him awake for most of the night. Coming to a stop by the edge of the cut, he rubbed irritably at his eyes, fighting to hold in a yawn. 

He really could not continue only getting a few hours at most of sleep a night. Otherwise, he was going to start getting sluggish.

“Tommy,” Charlie said, approaching him with slow steps, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Charlie,” he greeted back, taking his cigarette between his fingers to pluck it from his lips. “There’s a new shipment coming in in a few days, I need you too…” he trailed off as he finally got a good look at his uncle’s face, the prominent, worn lines in his forehead creased from more than just age and hard living. “What?”

Charlie cleared his throat. “We have a…not a situation, per se, but…”

“But what?” 

Charlie shifted from foot to foot, glancing around as though worried that there might be someone lingering around who could be listening in. “This morning, I went into the stables to feed the horses, and I found a woman sleeping there.”

Tommy blinked, lips pursing. Squatters weren’t the most unusual thing, but he’d thought that they’d fixed the problem with the fancy new locks he’d made Charlie and Curly put on the gates. And the reputation he’d been amassing for himself since his return from war worked wonders to scare all the others away.

“So?” it was an annoyance, but they weren’t housing any contraband of particular significance that could be stolen at the moment. Most of the time they just sent the squatters on their way with a stern warning and little fuss. “Just make sure she didn’t steal anything and send her on her way, as usual.” 

Charlie’s jaw set a little. “You don’t understand, Tommy.”

He raised an eyebrow, annoyance beginning to crackle under his skin. “No? What don’t I understand, Charlie?”

“She was sleeping in Wraith’s stable.”

Tommy went momentarily stiff with shock, fingers squeezing a little on his cigarette.

Wraith was a huge, young, black stallion Tommy had acquired not long after getting back from France. His previous owners had intended to put him down due to behavioral issues. Issues that, Tommy suspected, were a result of them abusing the poor boy. When he’d heard, he’d offered them a handsome amount in exchange for the horse, and had kept him housed at the yard ever since. 

Wraith was difficult. Temperamental, willful, and distrusting. It took working with him every day for months until he trusted Tommy enough to consistently let him near him. He was even standoffish to Curly, of all people. He only ever let Tommy ride him, and had on more than one occasion tried to kick or bite Charlie and Curly when they entered his stable to clean or to replace his food and water.

Tommy let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head, half believing Charlie to be playing some sort of joke on him. No way in hell would his grouchy stallion allow a fucking stranger into his stable with him. 

“I’m not joking, Tommy.”

His laugh died, smile fading. “That’s not possible.”

“That’s what I thought too. But I swear to God, Tom, she was in there, laying right up against him, fast asleep in the stable. That grouch of a stallion even got all upset and…protective when I tried to get near her.”

Tommy stared at him, baffled. “Where is she?”

Charlie jerked his head towards the tiny living quarters where they had a kitchen, washroom, and a few spare, tiny bedrooms. “I invited her in for breakfast.”

“You what?”

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Tommy, the horse who hates everyone–” off of Tommy’s look, he amended “everyone but you, didn’t even fucking whinny over her being in the stable with him,” but looked out over the cut, face suddenly grave. “And that’s not all.”

Tommy sighed, grinding his teeth together. Of all the fucking things to happen today…

“What?” he pried, despite knowing that he would probably regret it. Charlie looked at him again. 

“That girl is covered in barely healed cuts and bruises. Crude bandages all over her. She looks like she was run over by a fucking car. Or worse.”

“Did she say what happened?”

Charlie shook his head. “I asked, but she clammed right up. Looked like she was about to cry and started shaking like a leaf. Whatever happened to her, I think it may have fucked her up just as bad in the head.”

Tommy turned the information over in his mind, examining it from every angle. “Did she say anything else?”

“Not much. Just mumbled something about needing to get out of England,” he shook his head. “But with those injuries, that girl has no business going anywhere. At least not until she’s healed.”  

Tommy shot him a sharp look, already knowing where he was going with this. “We aren’t running a fucking charity here, Charlie.”

Charlie’s gaze sharpened, and for a moment, Tommy was certain that he saw a look of disappointment cross his features. He turned away from it, not wanting the reminder that even his Uncle Charlie, who always seemed to have a soft spot for him, now thought him but a cruel and heartless monster. 

“We could let her work here in exchange for enough to live off of. Just until she’s healed,” Charlie suggested. 

“In one breath you say she isn’t fit for travel and in the next you suggest putting her to work doing hard labor?”

“Not hard labor, just…things that would help out around here. With the increase in business, Curly and I could use a little help anyway.”

“If you need another stablehand, you should’ve told me so we could go about hiring one properly.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Properly?” he quoted back. Tommy nodded.

“The people who work here need to specialize in discretion and moral flexibility. How do we not know that the second she sees a box of contraband, she won’t go running to the police? Or gossiping amongst other women at the pub?”

“I’ll keep her away from that stuff. Only have her working with the horses, cleaning your car…that sort of thing.”

Tommy grinded his teeth together in frustration over his uncle’s stubbornness, staring out at the cut and the smoky expanse of Birmingham that surrounded it.

“Tommy…if you would just come in and see her. The look in her eyes…you’d understand why I’m so insistent.”

Tommy stared at him for a very long moment, jaw working as he weighed the possibilities in his head. On one hand, they did not know this woman. She could be a spy. Or a thief. Or, hell, a fucking undercover copper. He wasn’t about to risk his family’s welfare for her. But on the other…Charlie’s instincts when it came to people were rarely wrong. 

And Wraith had trusted her. 

He let out a small growl, glowering at the skyline of his city. “She doesn’t even look at any of the contraband, and you don’t discuss anything regarding the business with her, do you understand me? She cleans the stables, brushes the horses, changes their feed…that is all. And once she’s healed, she leaves.”

Charlie nodded. “Understood.”

“When the next shipment comes in a few days, store it with the rest and make sure your new…stablehand,” he ground out the word as if it were made of shards of glass, “doesn’t handle any of it.”

“Alright,” Charlie slung the rag he was holding over his shoulder. “Anything else?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, that’s it.”

Charlie moved to leave him alone, then hesitated. “Do you want to come say hello? It might do you good to at least meet her…”

“No,” he had no interest in her, he told himself, even as a part of his mind prickled with intrigue. 

Wraith trusted her.

Charlie nodded, like it was the answer he’d been expecting. “Right. Well, I’ll be seeing you then, Tom,” he set off back the way he’d come. Tommy kept his gaze on the cut, watching the cold waters rush past. He wondered if the medals he had chucked into it had rusted over yet.

“Her name is Lucy!” Charlie suddenly shouted back over his shoulder. “In case you were curious.”

Despite his better judgment, Tommy couldn’t quite convince himself that he wasn’t. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Shoulder leaning against a stack of crates near the entrance to a warehouse, Tommy listened in brooding silence as Charlie reported to him on their inventory. Everything was running according to plan. Polly was still giving him a little trouble in the betting shop, not yet ready to fully hand over the control she’d been given during the years of his absence. But he could manage her.

He had eyed the stables regretfully when he stepped into the yard that brisk morning. It was his intention yesterday to take Wraith out riding, but time had gotten away from him. 

Poor boy. It was a shame that he would only let Tommy ride him, or else he could have asked Charlie or Curly to take him out to at least stretch his legs a little. 

Reaching into his waistcoat, he pulled out his pocket watch. It wouldn’t take long for this meeting with Charlie to come to a close. Perhaps if he managed to wrap up his errands early enough, he could swing back around to the yard and take the stallion out for a short trot around town. 

“You look tired,” Charlie remarked. Tommy shot him a glare, stuffing the watch back into his pocket. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re stretched too thin. Have you thought of bringing someone else on?”

“Someone else to do what?”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. Run errands for you. Take notes at meetings, maybe spy on a man or two if need be.”

Tommy huffed, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, well, if you find anyone qualified for such a position, you let me know.”

Charlie looked like he was tempted to say something, but thought better of it. Fishing in his pocket, Tommy pulled out his cigarette case, jamming one perhaps a tad too aggressively between his lips, snapping the case shut and tucking it away in exchange for his lighter. 

“You were telling me about the last shipment,” he urged Charlie to carry on after lighting the cigarette. He was eager to get out of there as soon as possible. In the time since Charlie had taken on his new stablehand, every time Tommy stopped by the yard, he always tried to convince him to come say hello to her. And every time, Tommy refused, ignoring the odd twinge of curiosity, and something else he couldn’t even begin to identify, curling in his gut. 

It was a wonder that he hadn’t accidentally bumped into her on his many visits to the yard, but at the same time, he was making a concerted effort not to, and Charlie had mentioned that he was keeping her to mostly indoors work to prevent her straining herself too much or accidentally staggering upon some of the more…questionable items that they kept at the yard.  

Charlie continued to inform him about the status of everything in his gruff voice. Tommy listened in silence, only grunting now and then in acknowledgement.   

The click of hooves against the ground caught his attention, and his head raised from its downturned position to search for the source of the sound, brow furrowed. 

A moment later, from around the corner, moving at a steady trot, came Wraith, his huge black figure unmistakable as he moved gracefully along the packed mud.

And astride him, riding bareback, was a petite woman with deep, rich, dark red hair, shorn short around her chin in loose curls. Even from a distance, he could tell that her features were delicate, almost doll-like, with round cheeks, full lips, and large eyes. Her expression was pinched in concentration as she skillfully maneuvered Wraith with a gentle pull of the reins. Her red hair swung around her pale, freckled cheeks as she did, soft curls brushing along her jaw before she shook them out of her face.   

Tommy was so focused on watching her beautiful face, that he didn’t even fully process that she was riding his fucking horse for a moment. His lips had parted of their own accord, caught in a sudden, unfamiliar moment of complete speechlessness as he watched her ride past him. For a moment, her eyes–she was close enough by then that he could make out their color as that of a very dark green, the likes of which he had never seen before–met his, and she blinked as if taken aback, doing a double take and then staring at him with a look of unbridled fascination. 

He was used to women looking at him with lust. And he was pretty sure he detected a trace of attraction there, no doubt, but the look of intrigue and something else entirely in those green orbs made his heart rate pick up, throat suddenly dry. 

She pulled Wraith to pass across in front of them, pushing him into completing another circuit around the yard. Tommy finally was able to catch a glimpse of the barely concealed bandages and stitches under the loose sleeves and collar of her clothes–whatever Charlie had given her to wear was too big for her tiny frame. And upon narrowing his eyes a little, he was able to make out the light purple of faded bruises on her skin.

Tommy tracked their movements with his eyes, and his breath caught at how effortlessly she handled the stallion. To the untrained eye, one may not have been able to catch the way that she shifted and tightened her legs against the horse’s sides at specific moments to give him silent commands. And despite her small, slight frame, she was strong. Tommy could see it in the way her legs moved and the way her grip adjusted on the reins. She was riding Wraith with zero trouble, as easily and as casually as if she were walking across the street to the market to do her shopping. Wraith, who never let no one else but him ever ride him.

Tommy didn’t know if he was jealous or impressed. 

Something, slumbering where it was locked away deep in his chest, stirred, cracking one eye open inquisitively.

“Tommy? Tommy!”

He jerked as if rousing from a dream, blinking and then coming back to himself all at once, face snapping around to Charlie. His uncle’s eyebrows were raised, cheeks twitching as though trying to fight back what may very well have been a smile. 

Tommy coughed, hastily looking down. He could feel his face heating a little at being caught practically gawking at a pretty woman like a smitten schoolboy.

“What?”

Charlie didn’t say anything for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. “That was Lucy.”

“I figured.”

“She’s been a big help. She’s great with the horses. Almost as good as you. And Wraith likes her, so it’s not as much of a pain in the arse getting him fed and his stable cleaned.”

Tommy nodded, keeping his eyes focused downward, for risk of catching sight of the red-haired woman again and falling into another bout of mindless staring. 

“She’s a hard worker. Very observant, and a fast learner. Her injuries are healing well, so I’ve been letting her take on a little more work as she feels comfortable,” Charlie continued on.

Tommy thought again to the bandaged cuts he’d spotted under her oversized shirt. “Did she say what happened to her?”

“No,” Charlie’s voice dropped gravely. “I don’t think she sleeps all that much. And the other night she woke me and Curly up because she was screaming in her sleep.”

“Screaming?” Tommy frowned. 

“Curled into a ball and cried after I woke her up,” Charlie hesitated. “She didn’t want me to touch her.”

Tommy’s brows pulled together, stomach churning a little at the implications. “After you decided to take her on, I ordered some background checks be done on her. They should come back soon.”

“Right.”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come say hello. She really is a nice girl. And she loves the horses,” Charlie shot him a sly look. “You two would get on splendidly.” 

“I have things to do.”

Charlie nodded, clearly having expected it. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Tommy said, knowing that he had no real intentions on following through. If Lucy was truly as nice as Charlie said, it was all for the better that he stayed away from her. For her sake.

He said farewell to Charlie hastily, clapping him once on the shoulder, then shooting one final look towards where Lucy was still guiding Wraith into a light trot around the yard. Her red hair was a bright blot of sudden color in the otherwise monochrome gray of the yard. Of all of Small Heath and Birmingham, actually. 

Again, his mind prickled with curiosity. Why was she here? Where the fuck had she even come from?

And what the hell had happened to her?

He looked away quickly, walking briskly towards the gate before she could bring the horse back around to this side of the yard. Shoving one hand in his pocket while the other gripped his cigarette, he tried to shake all thought and pondering about her from his head.

But try as he might, he couldn’t dispel how, in the brief moment their eyes had met, he could have sworn that just from that single glance alone, she had understood him better than anyone else had in his entire life. 

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[eyes-of-rock]

Revenge

Paul Stanley X OC

Chapter Two

-> {Prologue // Chapter one} (would love to link it but can't)

I do one final look at myself to make sure everything is perfect. I'm wearing a beautiful satin emerald green tea-length dress. It is sleeved with a plunging v-neckline, and the fabric gathers up at the torso. The dress looks stunning to me—the perfect revenge dress. I look damn good.

I look at my living room wall clock—two minutes till four. I take my clutch off the table and head out the door. As I leave my apartment building, a slick black Porsche pulls up.

I know there is no one living around here with a car that nice. The most excellent vehicle I've seen is my Toyota. So it has to be Paul. Right on time. Impressive. I note. More than I can say for Jack, my ex and groom of the wedding I'm about to attend.

The car is sexy as hell. I haven't ever seen a Porsche in person before, at least not this close. You might think it is crazy, considering I live in Los Angeles, but I don't live in the Hollywood part.

Paul seems to be understanding the assignment. I know no one is going to be pulling up to this wedding in a car this nice.

I walk up to the car and open the door. The interior is a sexy black leather. This is the most excellent car I've ever been in. It almost feels wrong to be sitting in a Porsche with Paul Stanley of KISS. I'm a security guard at an office with an awful dating history. I'm not a model or an actress.

“You look stunning.” Paul compliments me, sliding his sunglasses down his nose for a better look.

“Thank you.” I smile, “You look pretty good yourself.”

He's wearing a nice black double-breasted suit jacket, a black striped vest underneath it, and a white low-cut t-shirt under the vest, and he's showing off just a peak of his chest hair. Then he's wearing some nice black jeans. He looks perfect.

I think that wedding is about to be hit by a big surprise, and I can't fucking wait. That's what they fucking deserve.

———————————————

“Lorna.” My mother greets me coldly. “I didn't expect you'd come.”

If you can't tell, she took Vanessa’s side. It's not surprising. She's always been her favourite and could do no wrong. It was always my fault, even when she was in the wrong. This situation is no different.

She eyes up Paul. She wants me to introduce her to my date because she's too proud to introduce herself. Every single guy I've ever brought home, and there haven't been many, she's done this same thing, too. Meanwhile, with Vanessa, it’s always been a friendly smile and an introduction.

“I know that's why I came,” I tell her, “and this is Paul Stanley. Paul, this is my mother.”

“Are you two seeing each other?” She asks in a rather demanding tone. She sounds rather unimpressed. Good.

I don't know how to answer that. I want to say yes, to get her back because we are now that I took him to this wedding technically. But this is also the first time we've gone out if this even counts as going out. I don't want to overstep and say something untrue. Who knows how he's feeling about this? However, something about our conversation a few days ago tells me he’s hoping it is going in that direction. For whatever reason. I still can't figure out why he even went after me, to begin with.

I’m not against the idea. He's been nothing but a gentleman all night so far. Paul is an adorable, caring guy behind the Starchild persona. I don't know if I'm someone he'd want on his arm at the end of the day.

“Yes, and your daughter is a lovely woman,” Paul answers for me, putting his hand on the small of my back and pulling me closer.

“Oh. Isn’t he a little old to look like a teenage degenerate?” My mother asks me, being a snotty cunt as per-usual. I know she's referring to the fact Paul has long hair.

“Isn't Jack a little young to be balding?” I fire back without thinking. His hair is thinner than a piece of paper. At least Paul still has all his hair and is older than Jack.

“You need to check your attitude, Lorna!” my mother gasps, scolding me and holding her hand to slap me. Like she always did to punish me as a kid.

I'm just going to take it like a grown women. I've been hit by her so many times it doesn't even hurt anymore.

“I wouldn't hit her if I were you,” Paul warns her, his voice level and calm.

My mother stops dead in her tracks and looks utterly shocked. I'm just as amazed as her. No one has ever actually stood up for me before. I'm not used to that; my mother isn't used to being told no.

“I want to hit my daughter for being disrespectful, and I will.” My mother gasped, horrified someone told her no, that someone stood up for me.

“Not while I'm here.” Paul insists.

“You’ve always been a spiteful girl; of course, you brought a little guard dog. Just don't ruin this day for your sister.” my mother spits at me, sounding disgusted.

Then, before I can retaliate, she turns and stomps off. I make sure to flip the bird her way real quick. That's what she deserves after that interaction.

I watch her walk over to my sister, hug and kiss her. When only moments ago, she was going to slap me in the face. It fucking hurts. I don't know why I've never been good enough for her. I wish I could have been. I fucking do.

I shouldn't have come. I know being around my family fills me with both anger and hurt. Yet here I am, and I refuse to look like they are getting to me, so I leave early.

At least I'm not alone. Paul is in my corner, which is very sweet of him. He didn't have to defend me, but he did, proving him to be a good guy.

“What a lovely woman,” Paul says sarcastically, an unpleasant look on his face.

“Yeah.” I agree, “Thank you.”

“I wasn't going to let her hit you.” He tells me, sounding like it's just a no-brainer. “Any normal person would have reacted the same way.”

“Well, you say that, but Jack let her hit me in front of him once,” I tell him.

“He’s a jackass,” Paul says, “I mean, come on, he let you go.”

“He did me a favour.” I admit, “I could be the idiot marrying him.”

“Exactly.” He agrees. “This won't be their last marriage.”

“You think?” I ask curiously.

“It’s not a good sign when the couple meets through adultery. Then you have to factor in he's an asshole.” He explains, “I promise you, this marriage will end eventually.”

“I hope you’re right,” I say as we sit at the table. Naturally, my sister put me in one near the back. Not with the rest of my family.

“Hello everyone.” The maid of honour, Vanessa’s best friend since middle school, speaks into the mic at the front of the venue with the rest of the wedding party.

“I’m the maid of honour.” She introduces herself.

“This is a love story for the ages.” She continues, and I roll my eyes. This is going to be a long speech.

“When Vanessa met Jack on that fateful rainy day in October at the Oldstone Bar. They locked eyes, and even though Vanessa had never met him, she knew her destiny was to be with him. So she walked up to him, and their love story began, even though she had to deal with jealousy from her sister of all people they made it through.”

“What the fuck?!” I blurt out in utter shock at the lies from that woman's mouth.

Are they out here spinning it like I made the whole thing up? Like they never knew each other, and I was jealous and getting in the fucking way? When there is undeniable proof that Jack dated me and they had a fucking affair? His entire family met me as his girlfriend. We dated for two whole fucking years. If anyone was jealous, it was Vanessa; she broke us up.

I'm so angry right now I can't even think straight. All I can think about is walking up on that stage and telling everyone the truth. I know I shouldn't, but I can't let this fucking slide. I can't let them tell a fucking lie to everyone and get away with it. I'm done. I’m not holding my tongue any longer.

I stand up.

“WHAT A LOAD OF BULLSHIT!” I yell to catch everyone's attention.

Everyone gasps, and the room falls silent.

“You two are such fucking liars.” I ask, “Would you like to know how they met?”

“I was dating Jackass over there,” I say, pointing right at Jack’s stupid fucking balding head.

He looks as terrified as he should be.

“and then he goes and cheats with my bitch of a sister Vanessa. Who never so much as felt a drop of rumours. So if anyone in that situation was because it was her.”

“Lorna, please-” My father bags; he doesn't ever get involved. He spent my whole childhood just letting everyone treat me like shit.

“No.” I snap, standing firm, “You don't deserve me to stop; I'm done with all of you.”

“You two deserve each other,” I say, pointing towards my sister, who's crying crocodile tears and her pussy ass husband.

“I wish you a short and miserable marriage.” I pick up the champagne glass and cheer it towards them.

Then I start walking towards the door, everyone looking at me. I hold my head up high. I don't regret it. It had to be said, and I don't care if a single one of these fuckers talks to me again.

I take a deep breath once I'm outside. I don't even feel sad. I don't feel like I’m losing something, but I am walking away from them. From cutting them off. I probably should have done this years ago.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” I apologize to Paul; I feel slightly embarrassed, so I just blew up in front of the frontman of KISS.

“I get it if you don't want to see me again.”

He didn't know me well and had to put up with all my family drama. He's been very nice about it, but he must think I'm insane now.

“Don’t apologize.” He says, “They had it coming.”

“Really? You don't think I'm crazy?” I ask, surprised.

“You’re the most normal one there.” He laughs, “I’d love to take you out again, maybe this time without your family.”

“I’d like that.” I smile at him, “And don't worry, I don't think I’ll be talking to them anymore.”

And I wholeheartedly mean every word of that. This wedding had a better ending than I could have thought. I did get my revenge.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Chapter Two

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Max repays the favor ;)

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7k

Notes: Doing my best here with early 80's references but this story takes place before I was born so... take it easy on me.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut (so much smut). Dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (mentioned), explicit language.

Tagging my Maxwell baby mutuals who inspired this part 2! @boliv-jenta @suzdin @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

By the time Friday had finally rolled around you were exhausted. It had been a long week of juggling all 3 of your jobs at once with the impromptu addition of Nannying for Alistair this week, but you wouldn’t complain. The extra money you’d make at the Lord’s this week (and likely next week you presumed, as you had yet to hear anything about Alistair’s mother returning any time soon to take him back as per the usual schedule) would provide a nice cushion for your savings account which you liked to keep for the times when either of your other two jobs would slow down. You would get Alistair to school in the mornings then make deliveries or do your haircuts during the day, then rush off to pick up Alistair, bring him home, entertain him for a couple hours, make dinner, clean up after yourselves and then make sure he was bathed and put to bed at a decent time. Max always tried to get home in time for bedtime for Alistair but it hadn’t happened at all this week so you’d done it each night. Not that you minded. Alistair was, in terms of children you’ve cared for, one of the easiest you’d ever dealt with when it came to bed time. He liked a snuggle in the rocking chair by his bed while you read him a story, then you tucked him in, flipped off the light and left the room, letting him fall asleep on his own. Max always made sure to call though when he knew for certain he wouldn’t make it in time. He would talk to Alistair on the phone, ask him about his day, and on nights when he had a few free minutes of time he would make up his own story to tell to Alistair in lieu of actually being home to read him one from his bookshelf.

That’s where you found yourselves now; you were wiping down the kitchen counters while Alistair sat at the table, phone cord twisting around his fingers as he happily babbled on to his father about the day he had. A smile tugged at your lips as you overhear Alistair tell his Dad about the goal he’d scored in soccer today in gym class, the same story you’d heard from him three times already tonight when he’d forget that he already told you. You gave the same excited reaction each time regardless, letting him have his victory he was so proud of.

“Okay, one second” You hear Alistair say into the phone a couple minutes later and look over to see him holding the phone out in your direction. “Daddy wants to talk to you Nana” he tells you, using the nickname you’d accidentally adopted from the boy when he’d called you it the first time you met. Max had explained to him that you’d be his Nanny and Alistair had gotten confused, thinking it was your name and shouted “Nana!” excitedly the first time he saw you. You and Max had laughed so hard at it that Alistair found it hilarious (even if he didn’t know why you were laughing) and so he’d just continued to call you it. You didn’t mind. At first you were a little weary that it made it sound like you were some kind of grandmother to him but you were also far too young for anyone with half a brain to believe you were old enough to be a grandparent so it didn’t bother you. You’d get the occasional odd look tossed your way when he’d call you it out in public or around the school pick-up, but you didn’t even notice it anymore.

Your brow furrows slightly when Alistair holds the receiver out towards you but you head over and take the phone anyway. Typically they chat to each other and just hang up but maybe there was something important Max needed to tell you.

You had barely spoken to him, you realize, since your (incredible, in your mind at least) night together at the beginning of the week. He was always off to work so early in the morning and though you did see him in the mornings, Alistair was typically in the same room as at least one of you at all times, either getting his breakfast or just spending the precious few minutes he had with his dad before both of their days started. So on those busy mornings you hadn’t exactly talked about how you’d tied your employer to the same kitchen chair where Alistair was eating his Cheerios and gave him a life-altering blow job that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Not quite a family breakfast table conversation with a 6 year old in the room. And in the evenings you’d actually been asleep by the time he had gotten home each night. Usually you’d try and wait up but with all the extra work you’d been pulling this week you just couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see him. You hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him because you absolutely weren’t. The truth is you were actually glad Alistair was always around in the mornings because if he wasn’t you doubted you’d be able to control yourself long enough for Max to get out of the house in the morning.

That night - the night - after you had parted ways from Max from the kitchen you had gone down the hallway to your bedroom and gotten yourself off so hard that you had to wash the sheets the next day and he’s all you thought about since.

“Hello?” You say into the phone once you’ve taken it from Alistair.

“Tell Alistair to go watch TV” Max tells you promptly and your cheeks heat up immediately. Clearly whatever this is, he intended for it to be a private conversation away from young ears.

“Hey buddy, go find a show for us to watch OK? I have to talk to your Dad for a minute then I’ll be right there” you tell the boy before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Ok” Alistair shrugs and hops off the chair, running down the hall towards the living room.

“Hi” you try again, hoping he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Hi Angel” Max greets you warmly and you swear your stomach flutters.

“Listen, I know I’ve been home late all week and I’ve missed Alistair’s bedtimes,” he begins and you frown. It’s not exactly why you thought he wanted to talk to you with Alistair out of the room…

“Oh.. Um, it’s ok, I really don’t mind doing it” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“I know, but still. I should be there. I want to be there. Anyways, I really want to try and see him tonight. Will you try and keep him up a little late for me? I’ll try not to be too late, but it will be a little past his usual bedtime I’m sure”

“Yeah, of course” you agree easily. “No school tomorrow so he’ll probably be jazzed about getting to stay up late anyway” you shrug, knowing it’s true. Alistair was constantly asking to stay up late but you’d always stuck to a pretty regular schedule to keep his routine on track so he wasn’t too affected whether he was at his mom’s or his dad’s house.

“Good, good” You hear Max sigh with relief. “I really want to spend some time with him”

“Of course Mr. Lord”

“And um, Angel?” He begins again and the familiar warmth comes flooding back at the change in his tone.

“Yes?”

“I’d really love to spend some time with you, too, if you could wait up for me after I get Alistair to bed”

“Oh,” you breathe, surprised. “Um,” you don’t mean to hesitate, but the tingling sensation that runs through your veins when his deep honeyed voice comes through the phone throws you off guard and all you can do is bite down on your lower lip in anticipation, forgetting momentarily that he can’t actually see through the phone how his words are affecting you.

“Only - Only if you want to. I mean, we don’t-” Max starts rambling and you quickly gather your wits to cut him off.

“No! I mean, I do, want to. Of course I want to, Mr. Lord” You make sure to say his name teasingly this time, unlike moments ago when you were talking to 'your boss', and you hear him chuckle into the phone.

“Well good. I’m… looking forward to it then, Angel”

“Me too” you whisper into the phone, smiling as you wrap the phone cord around your fingers.

“See you in a few hours” he promises before the line clicks signaling that he’s hung up. You sigh dreamily and hang up the phone before wandering off to find Alistair; a stupid smile playing on your lips the rest of the night.

…

It’s 10pm and you’re doing your best to keep Alistair awake an hour now past his usual bedtime. You were playing a board game for a while because you thought it would be a better way to keep him awake then a movie or tv show but after it was done he’d asked if you could watch something instead so you agreed and now you sat on the couch with Alistair's feet in your lap. You would give his feet a little tickle each time you noticed him starting to nod off and he’d break out into a fit of giggles that seemed to keep him awake for a few more minutes each time but you weren’t sure how much longer it would be a successful tactic. Thankfully you don’t have to wonder though because you hear the click of the lock at the front door and Max calling out announcing his arrival and Alistair jumps off the couch as if he hadn’t just been nearly drooling on the arm of it five seconds ago.

“Daddy!” he shrieks in excitement, running down the hallway as fast as his two little legs could carry him and nearly knocking his father over when he barrels into him with his arms spanned outwards.

“Ooof! Hey buddy” Max groans when he catches him. “Look who’s awake” he grins at his son.

“Yeah, Nana let me watch Knight Rider” Alistair explains enthusiastically.

“Oh she did, did she?” Max brings his gaze up to find yours as you too came out to the hallway and he raises an eyebrow at you. It wasn’t exactly a show meant for 6 year olds but in your defense it was 10pm on a Friday night, there weren't exactly any kid-friendly shows on TV.

“Hey, you wanted him to stay awake, David Hasselhoff provided” you shrugged and Max huffed a laugh. You knew he wasn’t actually upset. You’d never let Alistair watch anything really inappropriate and Max knew that.

“Yeah the car is SO COOL Dad!” Alistair carries on. “You should get one I think”

“Oh you think so, do you?” Max teases, hauling his son up to sit on his hip so he can place a kiss to his forehead.

“Daddy gets me whatever I want” Alistair turns his head towards you to explain and you laugh.

“Well then you are a very lucky boy, mister. I think KIIT might be on contract to the TV network for at least a few more seasons though so you might have to wait on that one” you joke and Alistair only shrugs in his father’s arms.

“That’s ok, I can wait. I can’t even drive yet” He explains and both you and Max let out a hearty laugh at that.

It’s sweet how much Max is endeared by his son. Though Max may be on the verge of being successful, he’s certainly not a wealthy man but to Alistair he might as well be royalty. The way Max carries himself and speaks of himself alludes to wealth well beyond his actual means, but that is part of what makes him a great businessman and what pulls in his investors, you presume. Though Alistair leads a humbled life, he’d never know it the way his father treats and spoils him. He’s always clothed and fed, but their home and lifestyle is modest at best. In the 6 year old’s eyes however he wants for nothing and he latches on to the way Max projects not only himself but his family. Max has an image to uphold and it’s important and although he does provide for his family, you know it’s not as much as he’d like to be able to, and that’s why he works as hard as he does. You’d had an honest and upfront financial conversation when you’d first been hired and Max had been apologetic that he couldn’t offer you a higher salary. He knew it wasn’t enough but it was what he could afford and you assured him you were fine with it. Living at his house for half the month helped you out a lot, financially. Your utility bills were essentially cut in half, same for your groceries, though you did still have to pay your full rent each month obviously, despite only living there half the time. But you’d be paying it regardless, so having a paycheck from Max and all the money you saved on essentially living “for free” for half the month each month was more than enough for what you needed to live your life the way you wanted to.

You didn’t know much of Max’s past or upbringing but he did share some of it with you one night a month or so ago when you’d both been relaxing on the back deck with a bottle of wine long after Alistair had gone to bed. You hadn’t meant to dig deep into your past and spill half of your life story to him, but you did. When he was at home and relaxed like this and not having to put on the act he always did out in the world or when television cameras were rolling on him, he was so easy to talk to and you felt so comfortable. So you’d shared (or maybe overshared, though he didn’t seem to mind) and soon, he shared also. It wasn’t much, but he did tell you of his very humbled beginnings, how he’d gone to school in tattered clothes and holes in his shoes. How he was treated by his peers at school and when you reached out to place a hand on his arm in comfort he quickly shook his head and told you that it was ok, it pushed him to be where he was today and motivated him to give his own son the things he never had. You’d quickly brushed away a tear that had slid down your cheek as he confessed parts of his past to you, hoping he didn’t see it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pry even further and asked him about his parents but he just cleared his throat and pretended to look at his watch, commenting on how late it was and that you should both probably get some sleep. You never pushed the subject again.

“Ok buddy why don’t you go get your PJ’s on and pick a story and I’ll be right in OK?” Max says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he gently places Alistair back on the floor. The boy rubs his tired eyes and nods before turning on his heel to head up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Max leans on the bannister, watching Alistair go until he’s out of eyesight before turning his attention back to you and taking the few strides forward until he reaches you.

“Thank you, for keeping him up. It’s been a crazy week, I feel like I haven’t seen him at all” Max sighs and your shoulders fall. You feel for him. Max is always working like crazy and you can’t imagine how hard it is for him to already only have 50% custody but then still barely get to spend any time with him even when it is his time.

“Happy to do it” You smile. “He missed you this week. We um…” You pause, looking down and feeling suddenly shy. You reach out to tug gently at the bottom of Max’s tie hanging loosely around his neck, feeling the fine fabric between your fingers and memories from the last time you touched his tie flooding your thoughts. “We both missed you” you shrug, finally bringing your gaze back up to meet his, a smile playing on your lips. Max’s eyes close and he lets a deep breath out through his nose before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Good, just… hold that thought, OK?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cover yours on his tie, his thumb rubbing absently across the backs of your knuckles.

You nod and Max brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it, giving you a quick wink before he drops your hand and takes off up the stairs calling after his son, reminding him to brush his teeth.

Time seems to be running backwards while you wait for Max. Or maybe you’re just terribly impatient. You look at the clock on your bedside table again and it’s nearly 11:00. Alistair usually doesn’t take more than 15 minutes to put down and it’s been nearly 45. You’ve been staring at the same page in your book for at least 10 minutes. Constantly losing your place or forgetting what you’d just read all together as you keep glancing back over to the clock. You’re still exhausted, too. Today has probably been the busiest of the whole week and the anticipation of spending time with Max is the only thing keeping your eyes open. You wonder what’s taking him so long and try to push back the negative thoughts in your head that are wondering if he’s changed his mind entirely and not seeking you out tonight. Maybe he’s had a change of heart or doesn’t want to complicate things. You couldn’t even blame him for it, though you hoped it wasn’t the case.

The thoughts don’t have a chance to plague you any further though as you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door and you quickly flip over onto your back, holding yourself up on your elbows as you call out for him to come in.

“Hi” Max sighs with relief when he enters your bedroom. He closes the door behind him then turns back towards you and runs his hands through his hair. You notice then that his hair is wet and he’s not dressed in his typical dress suit and tie that he’d been in when he got home. Instead he’s wearing a pair of black pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. You’d always thought Mr. Lord looked incredible in his suits but this look was positively delicious, you decide.

“You showered” You mention because you suddenly feel like your whole mouth has gone dry and you have no grasp on how to speak in more than 2 word sentences when this man is standing in front of you looking the way he does. It should be criminal.

“Oh, uh, yeah” Max looks away, almost like he’s embarrassed but you’re not sure why he would be. He’d been working for nearly 14 hours, of course he’d want a shower when he got home, you rationalize. You of course were oblivious to the fact that he had actually showered because he wanted to fuck his fist before coming to see you so the night wouldn’t be over before he really had a chance to begin it. He’d been in absolute agony all week thinking about you. Your hands on him, your mouth, the way you spoke to and treated him. He’d even jerked off in his private bathroom at work this week - something he’d never done before - when it got to the point where he couldn’t even concentrate on his work because he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“Alistair’s asleep?” You ask, getting up on your knees now on the bed and shuffling over to the side edge.

Max simply nods before taking quick strides to meet you over at your bed, his large hands instantly coming to your waist to roam up and down your sides as he stands in front of you, his eyes watching the movement of when the hem of your tank top rides up slightly to reveal some skin.

“Angel you’re so beautiful” he sighs and though you wouldn’t exactly agree, you believe he means his words.

“Max, I’m literally wearing a tank top and sleep shorts” you giggle. You didn’t exactly have any sexy lingerie over at your babysitting gig so you’d just changed into your regular sleep clothes when Max had gone to put Alistair down.

“And still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Max confesses before he presses forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He wastes no time running his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up to him gladly, moaning into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven. Your hands go up to push through his wet hair, pulling him even closer to you.

“Mmm, fucking missed you” Max groans into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightens. “Tell me you missed me” he breathes heavily before capturing your mouth again and swallowing your moan that follows.

“I missed you Maxi. Haven’t stopped thinking about you” you admit.

“Oh, fuck, me too Sweetheart” Max groans, his mouth leaving yours to trail down your throat instead. He licks, nips and sucks all the way down the side of your throat until he reaches your collarbone and then ascends back up to meet your mouth again for more hungry kisses. His tongue explores your mouth, the wet muscle fighting for dominance against yours as his hands slowly push up, up, up your sides and under your tank until they’re at the bottom of your breasts and he deftly reaches his thumbs up to brush across each of your nipples. His hands seem enormous on your body and they’re driving you mad.

“Maxxx” you whine when you feel your nipples pebble under his ghosting touch. You want more of him. Need more of him. Without bothering to ask, you push off of him for a brief second just long enough to hastily tug your tank top up and over your head, throwing the offending garment off to some corner of the room before you pull him into your body again and your mouths meet once more. You’re very glad at that moment that you had decided to forego a bra tonight.

“Needy girl” Max groans into your mouth, his hands now greedily grabbing and kneading into your breasts. Your back arches so you push further into his touch and you can’t help the whine that escapes you.

“Please Max” you whimper. You’re not even sure what you’re asking him for. You just know you need more.

“Angel, Max is here now darling” Max soothes, pulling his mouth away so he can study your face instead. Your eyes are half closed, mouth open, you know you must look positively wrecked already and it’s because you are.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers before he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You try to deepen it but he pulls away too quickly. You don’t have time to complain however because as quick as he leaves your lips he lowers his head and puts his mouth on your left breast, his hand pushing it further into his mouth as he alternates between suckling on and flicking his tongue over the pert bud.

“Oh Max, baby, that feels so nice” you praise him by running your hand through his hair as you look down and watch him mouth at your breast, humming his satisfaction into it while his other hand pays the right side equal attention, massaging it in his palm and pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Your head is rolling back as his warm mouth continues its assault and there’s a slow burn beginning to build deep in your core as he takes his time with you.

He continues sloppily kissing, nibbling and lathing his tongue over your breasts for what you could swear is hours but in reality is more likely only minutes. He’s switching occasionally between the two sides, his hand and fingers always making up for the attention the one is not getting from his mouth. Your head feels like you might as well be on another planet. You can’t concentrate on anything but Max’s hands and mouth on you, driving you absolutely insane. Heat continues to coil in the lower parts of your belly as he keeps showering you with attention and all you can do is whimper and continue tugging on his hair while pushing your breasts into his face. He hasn’t even touched you beneath your waist yet and you’re not sure how you’ll survive that, if this is how he’s making you feel already. You can’t remember the last time someone had focused so much attention on you without seeking out their own pleasure at the same time but you get the feeling by the way Max is constantly moaning and babbling adorations into your breasts that this is giving him nearly as much pleasure as it’s giving you.

Your panties are uncomfortably wet, you can feel them already, and as if on queue, Max seems to read your mind as he suddenly shifts his position and lifts his left leg a bit so he can place his knee on the edge of your bed. His hands let go of your breasts and he brings them to your legs and yanks you forward you so that your legs straddle his thigh and you let out a guttural moan when your aching center rubs against the firm muscle of his thigh.

“That’s it baby” Max coos, his mouth releasing your breast to place wet kisses to the mounds instead. “Take what you need, I’ve got you” he promises before placing his hands on your ass and pressing you harder into him, helping you rock back and forth and create the friction he knows you're begging for.

You're moaning freely now, not caring how desperate you sound. It’s everything but still not enough. Without giving it a second thought you reach down to tug your shorts down, needing to get them off as quickly as possible. Max reaches down too, helping you as you awkwardly try to get them all the way down and off your legs to kick them free. It takes a few seconds, not easy given your kneeling position, but you manage and then gasp as Max pulls you hard back into position and you start grinding against him again with renewed vigor.

“Oh Max, oh fuck”

Max’s attention goes back to your throat again. He’s kissing and sucking all over and pulling sounds from you that you can only pray won’t wake the sleeping 6 year old upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you’re chanting now. You’re so close and it feels so good that you’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed about how you’re getting yourself off like some kind of rabid dog, grinding up and down on Max’s leg. You can hear the wet squelch of your desire that’s soaked the inside of your panties and you know you’ve not only ruined them, but surely Max’s pants as well.

“Come on baby,” Max encourages, his hands back on your ass as he helps speed up your rhythm and push you harder against him. He starts jutting his own hips forward so that his leg rocks into you, meeting your thrusts and your head lolls backwards. Max takes full advantage of that, finding a particular spot in the hollow of your throat and running his teeth along it before sucking you hard into his mouth. He knows it will leave a mark and he absolutely does not care.

“Oh my God, Max, yes, yes” You cry out as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel like a fucking teenager - not that you’re complaining - getting off from dry humping and hickeys, but Max does something to you that you haven’t felt in years. If ever, even.

Hell, the man just made you cum without even taking your underwear off.

“Holy shit” you breathe as the rocking of your hips slows dramatically and Max continues to moan into and suckle on your neck, but with a restrained intensity now as he feels you come down from your high. His hands are still groping your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his large hands as he moans into your throat. You rest your chin on top of his head and wrap your fingers around the back of it, hands petting over his hair as you float back down to earth.

“Angel you’re so good for me” Max hums into your neck before placing a few more kisses to it and pulling himself back to look at you. He brushes the hair out of your face and you manage a lazy smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you retort. It’s beyond cheesy but the grin Max gives you in return tells you he loves it.

“Lay down” he instructs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not done with you”

You quickly oblige him, moving to lay down on your back in the middle of the bed with your head resting on the pillows. Despite having just came, you’re already squirming, waiting for his hands to be on you again. You don’t have to wait long before he’s crawling onto the bed on his knees and swinging one leg over the other side of your hips so you’re between his legs. His strong hands come down to rest at your waist before beginning to play the waistband of your panties and then he lifts one edge of the elastic right by your hip bone, stretching it and then letting go so it snaps back against your skin and you whimper in anticipation.

“Take these off” he orders and you don’t need to be told twice, quickly pushing them down and shimmying out of them.

“So beautiful” Max murmurs, looking down at your naked core and running the back of his hand over you so his knuckles brush against your hip and then down to the top of your thigh.

“Maxxxx” you whine, needy for his touch. He’s so close, and yet still hasn’t touched you where you’ve been dying to feel him all week.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” Max moans before he lets out a growl and lowers himself down to kiss you hard. It’s all teeth and tongue and desperation and you love it, grasping onto his shoulders to keep him close.

“Baby,” Max breathes between urgent kisses. “Angel, I…” he cuts himself off again, not able to pull away from your mouth long enough to form a complete sentence it seems. “If you don’t want… If you want me to stop you have to…” he trails off, the thought unfinished as you pull him back into another heated kiss. You know what he was getting at. If you don’t want to go any further tonight you need to tell him to stop now or pretty soon he won’t be able to.

You kiss him a few more times before finally pulling back and taking his face into your hands to ensure he hears you.

“If you don’t touch me soon Maxwell Lord, I’m fucking quitting” you tell him. You’re of course kidding about the quitting part and the grin that crosses his lips tells you he knows, but you do need him to touch before you actually lose your mind.

The moment the words leave your lips Maxwell’s hand is cupping your sex and you arch your whole body into his touch, moaning into his mouth when you recapture his lips.

“Mmmm, Sweetheart” Max hums in delight when his digits slide through your soaked folds. “So fucking wet for me”

“All for you baby” you breathe against his lips, hips chasing into his touch.

Max slides his fingers delicately through your folds, bringing the tip of his middle finger that’s slick with your desire up to swirl around your clit a few times and you gasp into his mouth.

“Max!”

“Shh, shh, shhh” Max soothes, peppering kisses to the side of your face now as his fingers slide back down and begin to nudge at your entrance instead. You widen your legs instinctively, pushing his knees apart and giving him more access and you feel him huff a little laugh against your cheek.

“You really are my Angel, aren’t you”

“Yes” you whine, your hands coming up to grab at the hem of his t-shirt and you begin pulling, suddenly needing to feel more of him, his body against yours.

Max quickly gets the hint and his hand unfortunately leaves your aching core momentarily while he sits up and tugs the t-shirt off his head and tosses it to the end of the bed before his large frame comes back down on top of you. He slides one leg between yours and nudges your left leg further out and then brings his other leg over as well so you’re spread out on either side of him, impatiently squirming with him between your legs.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all week, my dear?” he asks, his breath fanning against your ear and you shake your head.

“I want to know what you taste like” he whispers and you moan, your arms coming up to wrap around his naked back.

“Tell me baby” you whisper against his lips before capturing his bottom one between your teeth gently before letting go. “Tell me what you’ve thought about”

Max groans and shoves his tongue inside your mouth to kiss you greedily for a few moments before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “Angel I want to fuck you with my tongue, my mouth” Max confesses and you whimper. “Want to make you feel so good like you did for me. Baby do you know how many times I had to fuck my hand this week because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“Really?” it comes out breathy and you're arching your hips off the bed to grind into Max’s lower half, feeling his hardness under the confines of his clothes. “I had to wash my sheets twice this week” you confess your own discretions and Max practically growls in response and it sends a surge of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck” Max groans, not able to help but rut his hips into yours. “My needy girl, gonna make you feel so good”

“Yes, Maxi” you moan, your hips coming off the bed again to thrust against his. “Want your mouth on me baby, please” you beg him and he groans.

“Fuck” he curses once more before placing hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat, the top of your chest as he inches his body down further and further, his mouth following his decent until he’s hovering just above where you need him most. Your hips thrust up into the air but you can’t reach anything and you let out a whine.

Max is just staring at your glistening pussy and were you not completely fucked out you might be embarrassed but you are so you do nothing but moan and writhe beneath his stare, begging without words for him to do something.

He does. Oh boy, he does. Two fingers suddenly plunge inside of you just as his mouth latches on to your clit and you practically scream out in pleasure at the simultaneous intrusions.

“Oh Max, oh fuck, yeah, yeah” you’re writhing beneath him, your hands coming down to grab fistfuls of his hair as you secure his face into your cunt and he moans against you, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Just like that baby, right there” you encourage, your hips rutting against his face unabashedly. His fingers continue to plunge in and out of you, fingertips curling just right as they hit as deep as they can go and his mouth is alternating its attention between licking through your folds and tonguing frantically at your clit and god help you, but you’re coming again already.

“Oh Max, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck! Don’t stop. Max. Max!”

You’re loud as you come for him, and you know it. Absolutely debauched and you can’t help it. Your thighs are shaking as they grip either side of his head and you’re practically riding his face as you come completely undone at his mercy and Max dutifully laps away at your folds and leisurely fucks you with his fingers for minutes long after you come and you just hum happily as your hips continue slowly rocking into his face and your hands continue to get lost in his hair.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten off from anything but your own hand for much longer than you’d care to admit, or maybe Max Lord was secretly some kind of sex God, you weren’t sure, but all you did know is that you just had 2 of the most incredible orgasms of your lifetime and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

Yeah, you were leaning more toward the sex God thing.

You’re so lost in your post orgasm bliss that you literally almost fall asleep while Max still has his tongue buried deep in your pussy. He seems perfectly content to just nuzzle into your folds and leisurely lick and suck and fingerfuck you like he has all the time in the world. He’s probably been at it a good five or ten minutes at least since you came but its soft and slow and sensual and the intimacy of it feels so heightened. He’s not trying to bring you to another orgasm, or overstimulate your sensitive sex, he just wants to be close to you, savor you like you’re his last meal, and you let him.

Your good boy.

He notices after a while how you’ve stopped rocking your hips into him and your hands have slowed from running through his hair and he finally pulls his mouth off of you and his fingers out and you groan tiredly at the loss. Max presses soft kisses to your mound and the insides of your thighs before pushing himself up onto his elbows and crawling back over top of you. Your head is lolled to the side, your eyes closed but a ridiculous smile playing on your lips. You actually nearly fucking fell asleep.

“Mmmm, that was nice” you mumble into your pillow.

“Angel I think I wore you out” Max chuckles and your eyes open wearily to look at him, your slick smeared across the bottom half of his face should maybe be embarrassing to you but you can’t help but find it anything but incredibly sexy.

“No, ‘m not…” you trail off for a moment, forgetting what you’re saying. “Not even tired” you try to sound convincing, but know you’re anything but.

“Get some sleep, my darling” Max’s voice is soft and suddenly at your ear, though you hadn’t even felt him move. He presses a kiss to your temple and then you feel him shift all of his weight off of you and you whine at the loss of body heat.

“Baby?” You murmur, reaching a hand out blindly for him. He takes your hand in his and brings his lips to your knuckles before placing it gently back down.

“Go to sleep, Angel, I’ll see you in the morning”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’m ok” he quickly promises. You highly doubt that. You felt him hard as a fucking rock against you earlier but you honestly don’t know if you have it in you to go another round either.

“You’re leaving?” You say, suddenly realizing he’s off the bed and standing beside it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. You don’t mean to sound as whiny about it as you do, but you can’t help it.

“Alistair” he sighs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right” you quickly agree. You both know if the boy happens to either wake up in the middle of the night or get up before his father does, his dad’s room is the first place he’ll go and if he’s not there and finds him in your bed instead, well… neither of you were ready to go down that road with the boy just yet.

“I’m sorry Sweetheart, I wish…” he trails off, the thought unfinished but you hear it in his voice. You know he’d stay if he could.

“I know. It’s ok” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand at his side.

“I will make it up to you” he smiles and you know it’s a promise, one that brings a grin to your lips as you snuggle further into your bed.

“I’ll hold you to that mister”

“Good night Angel” Max tells you, dropping your hand and leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead before he pulls your covers up and places them over you.

“Night Mr. Lord” you smile cheekily and he huffs a laugh before he heads out of your room and you hear the door click shut behind him.

You’re asleep the moment your head nestles back into your pillow so you don’t hear the shower coming back to life from Max’s ensuite, either.

Next Chapter

[selarina]

Ghosts in Love

-> Kageyama Tobio x Reader (ft. Suna Rintaro x Reader)

Chapter 2: Ill-Fitted Bonds

Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.

Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg

Content Warnings: post-breakup, childhood friends, pining, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, implied sexual content, angst, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.9k words

Taglist: Open

Author's Note: I apologize...BUT who’s side are you on? I need to know

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

You don’t see Suna Rintaro for another 4 months, and you think he may have really taken you up on the offer to move. But you think you know him enough to know he would not put in the extra effort to do all that. He may simply be avoiding you, and for once, you find yourself thanking him for it.

You do see him on social media though, just the brief updates on his matches, and the occasional less-than-welcome selfies. Less than welcome because they make room for themselves in your head sometimes, not leaving for days on end. But it’s been 4 months and you realize today that you haven’t opened to check his account in two months. You smile, sipping on your tea. The taste is a bit more bitter than usual, but you kinda like it today. 

Your phone rings, and you put down the tea, a bit of it falling to the tip of your thumb. You hiss, as you reach for your phone, sliding and answering it. 

“Hey,” you answer. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way,” he says, sounding out of breath yet somehow still yawning.

“Are you really, Tobio?” You ask, already aware as you deadpan.

“Okay, I haven’t left yet but I’m leaving soon, okay? I’m sorry — the alarm.” You fight the urge to groan but his voice comes out again, a little sheepish and a little ashamed, “I slept through it.”

“It’s okay,” you’re quick to reassure him because it really is, you haven’t got much to do today. “Call me when you leave, and I’ll leave too, okay?”

“Okay, thank you. Leaving soon,” he says.

You cut the call, and decide to book a cab to the cafe, deciding on waiting there for him to come. You wanted to finish your tea, and finish this crossword anyway, you think.

—

The crowd bustles a bit loudly for your liking, it’s usually that the cafe provides a sort of white noise effect wherein the voices get unanimous at some point, blurring things out for you to focus but it’s not working today. You groan, but dissolve into a smile, when you catch Tobio coming your way.

“Hi,” you say, going up to him and engulfing him in a hug. Per usual, he smells good, a bit like bergamot twined with notes of cedar. 

“You smell good,” you say, allowing yourself to rest your head on his shoulders for a moment.

“You always say that,” his voice reverberates through his body, and you can feel it against your own. 

You pull away, smiling, “Well, you always smell good.” You smooth down your clothes as you sit down. “I ordered your usual, it should be done soon,” you add.

“Thank you,” he says, sitting stiffly, but a bit slouched.

“You’ve been sleeping in a lot lately,” you say, referring to not only today’s delay but yesterday’s and the day before that, and the entire week before that.

“I don’t know I’ve got myself into a cycle, and I can no longer sleep on time,” he sulks, pouting very visibly. You feel the urge to pinch his cheeks, but you fight it. “It’s annoying.”

“Ah, is it because of that one day you stayed up?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “I should never have done that,” he mutters.

“It’s not that hard to fix,” you say, and he perks up just a bit.

“And?” He asks, a bit impatient as he’s suddenly pulling in closer to you.

“Just tire yourself out, and you’ll sleep soon as you hit your bed,” you say. 

“Guess I’ll gym a bit harder?” He says.

You frown, raise your brows, and clear your throat. “Or we could go out?” 

He looks at you, a bit studded, but not entirely shocked. “Okay,” he responds.

“What?” You ask, startling him a bit with your loudness. You turn to the lady sitting behind you, “I’m so sorry. Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Of course.”

You turn back to face him, raising your brows. “What? I’ve been meaning to ask anyway,” he says. 

—

You find yourself walking hand in hand with Tobio, into the restaurant. You’re not sure how this will tire him out into sleeping in early, but you do suppose it was merely an excuse to ask him out on your part. Why he’s agreeing to this is beyond you, but you walk beside him as though it isn’t.

You’ve known Tobio for almost his entire life — sometimes distantly, sometimes closely. It changes on and on over time, but you remember always thinking of him as someone you would want to be. Chasing his dreams with endless fervor, how he was at playing ball, even when you were all merely 4 years old with no real concept of winning or losing. It was and is rather inspirational, moderation notwithstanding. But it’s rarely easy to be around him without feeling like you’re wearing ill-fitted clothes all the time.

“It’s under Kageyama Tobio,” he says. “Of course, sir.” The uniformed man smiles warmly at him and turns to smile at you. You mirror him stiffly, almost like a well-practiced routine. “Right this way, please.”

Tobio smiles, his hand coming to squeeze yours before he pulls you to walk in tandem with him as the two of you follow the host, and that’s more than enough to break you out of your stupor.

You haven’t noticed it but Tobio Kageyama is unlike you, as you’ve mentioned but he is also very much like you. He walks stiffly like he doesn’t necessarily belong in this restaurant like you’re his only tether to this place as he tightly grasps your hand. You suppose it’s why he’s the only childhood friend you have retained. The thing about wearing ill-fitted clothes though, is very much who he is sometimes. In whispered conversations on his balcony, he tells you this, bears his heart out, and you find that you had misunderstood, or just half-understood him. And since that day, you’ve kept each other at arm's length.

You joke that he’s afraid you’re going tell people about all his vulnerabilities and that is the sole reason why he keeps you close. He jokes about the same. But you think what you’ve come to find is an attachment of some sort. You smile. 

Contrastingly, when the host asks a myriad of questions about preferences and allergies, he answers deftly, like a well-oiled machine, oozing confidence, and a little charm as he chuckles, a chuckle that reverberates deeply within you. You hold your breath, as he gently pulls your chair out, takes your coat, and helps you place it neatly behind your chair, pushing your chair, before he goes on to sit opposite you.

The restaurant is big, but the tables are small. More intimate you suppose, his face is only a feet away. 

“So,” you drawl. “Is this where you charm all your dates Kageyama Tobio?” You smirk, “Pretty neat, I must say.”

“Stop,” he softly blushes. You smirk harder. “Charm? Are you stupid?” 

Your raise your brows, as he continues, “I can’t charm…” He looks away.

“Hm? I think the list of very beautiful and talented women you’ve dated suggests otherwise,” you smile. It’s not hard to figure out a public figure’s dating history, you’re not sure how much of these are true but you would tease him regardless.

“Well, that’s only because I’m good-looking,” he says with a hard pause. It comes off cocky, but you smile you know him, and because he states more like an observation. A fact, one you can’t help but find yourself agreeing with as the night passes. “I mean, t—that’s what I’ve been told.” He blushes harder, and you almost want to make it all stop, but he’s just so cute like this. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop,” you chuckle. He stares blankly as you continue to ease into a smile.

“You like the place?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Very…” You look up from the menu to see he’s looking at you intently, the soft yellow from the candle hitting light onto his ocean-blue eyes. “Intimate.”

His brows raise, just barely, you think you should change the topic. “Have you been here before?” 

“Uh, yeah. I come here alone, sometimes the team comes too.” He says, his eyes flitting down to the menu again, flipping the page. “But also, with Miwa whenever she’s in the city. She really likes this place,” he adds.

“Ah?” 

“Yeah, a celebrity once showed up at the same time we were here, and ever since then — she always drags me here hoping someone will show,” he looks up, his face comically blank. 

You smile. She would do that, wouldn’t she? It’s been so long since you’ve met his sister, you remember only being able to stand her before you started to understand how Tobio really worked, you think maybe without her you wouldn’t be here with Tobio.

“Tell her I said hello,” you say as you beckon the waiter, seeing that you’re both ready to say your orders.

—

You both start walking out of the restaurant, with your coat snugly wrapped around you by Tobio, you stroll out just as you had entered the establishment, hand-in-hand.

“The food was so good,” you say. “Very filling. I can definitely see why after practice version of you loves showing up here.”

He doesn’t say anything, simply walking in step with you, a beat later and you’re both waiting for his car. Your hand comes up to loop through his bicep, using him as you place weight onto him. He remains barely fazed. You’re tired, and you’re about to entirely lean on him as you notice him. His hands are pocked in his pants pockets as he talks to a couple of people around him,

Your eyes flit back to him as his hair sweeps across his face with the night. He’s cut his hair, and you have to say he looks better than he did during your very last encounter. You feel better somehow. He appears to chuckle mutedly at something his friends have said and you can almost hear him chuckle, right up from behind you, right into your ears, as his hands begin wandering all over your body. You hold your breath, sweeping that thought away.

He turns just in time, his eyes falling onto your face as his eyebrows twitch in recognition. You let go of your breath, but you’re not sure what you should ideally do. Raise your hand, and wave at him. And then you realize your hands are looped through Kageyama’s. 

Oh.

You stare at him, as he smiles. There isn’t a hint of emotion on his face that suggests anything but you feel guilty for some reason. It doesn’t last long because a lady in a purple dress — attractive, swoops through breaking both of your eye lines. She falls, as he reaches quickly to hold her by her waist. She swoops her hand through and over his neck, and that’s all you see before you force yourself to look away.

“That was him?” Kageyama’s soft voice comes from right beside you in a hushed voice, like he’s almost telling you it’s okay if you don’t want to tell him. You can blame it on the night air eating his question away. “Suna Rintaro, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you admit, feeling guilt all over. It’s okay, you think but it’s only that you’re not sure what exactly it is that you’re feeling guilty over.

Your car swoops through right in front of you, your coat rising, as Kageyama notices, and placates it with his hand. “You okay just leaving?” He asks.

“Yeah, just take me home.”

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