#in six to eight months I'm not going to be living here anyways I'm going to be living in college

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

#yoongi #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts fic recs #yoongi x you #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan fic #bts fic #bts smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #myg fic #myg smut #myg #myg angst #asingledaffodil

[blairrwaldorfs]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: I'm sure you all remember this unfinished fic. I'm back in this new blog. I'm setting my boundaries. Anons are off in this blog. I'm here to have a good time and that means no hate or drama from the fandom. I'm simply here to enjoy my writing and share it with everyone. Please read this for more info.

Disclaimer: Mention of violence, 18+

Wordcount: 3.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

You knew going home for New Years was a terrible idea because when did you come home, and it ended up being a good quality time with your parents?

Never. 

All weekend, all you heard was your mum nagging about every detail of what was wrong with your life. You sat there on the dining table as she cooked dinner for the four of you. Your dad watching some sports on the television, and your younger brother sitting next to you, giving you a “just tuned her out” look. As if you haven’t done that all your life. 

“Did you know my friend’s daughter lived with her boyfriend for two years in the same flat, and he stabbed her in her sleep?” Your mum gave you her wide eyes.

“Mum!” Your eyes widened, disbelief that she had told you that. “I don’t think it's appropriate to talk about this.”

“Well, I’m just saying!” Your mum shook her head, sliding the chicken in the oven. “If her own boyfriend had stabbed her, how sure are you that you’re safe with that flatmate of yours?”

You rolled your eyes, hearing your brother chuckle next to you. 

“Wait, is she okay though?” Your brother interrupted. 

“She’s fine. Good thing she was rushed to the hospital right away.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your brother and your mum talked back and forth about the incident that happened. Meanwhile, your dad was just shutting the three of you out. Your brother was your mum’s favorite, especially now that he went through a divorce. She had babied him even more. She would say she felt sorry for him for going through such a shitty and rough divorce. Your dad, however, loved to nag your brother just like what your mum does to you every time. He would tell him how he shouldn't have married too early. That he only knew her for a year and decided that he was in love when he wasn’t in the first place. 

“I’ve been with Joe for a year. He’s fine. He’s barely home anyway.” You argued back.

Your mum let out a loud scoff, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel as she started working on the mashed potatoes. 

“You only kept that flat because you keep spending your money on unnecessary things!” Your mum has now found a new excuse for her complaining. “That's why you can’t afford your own flat. I mean look at Sara… She and Abby just bought a new place, and they got married.”

Oh no.

Here comes the marriage subject. 

You knew she was slowly creeping that subject in this conversation. She always managed to find a way to bring it up, and you should have seen it coming already. You and Sara have been best friends since college, and she has grown pretty close with your family. She got engaged last year with Abby, whom she met at an art gallery three years ago, and they got married just a few months ago. Though, before all that, you and Sara were flatmates. She moved out a year ago after getting engaged and started living with Abby. You, on the other hand, had found—you thought— a perfect flatmate. 

Joe. 

Joseph Quinn from that famous Stranger Things show. He was looking for a flatmate—you didn’t know why since he could afford it himself— and you thought it was perfect since he was barely home, and you could have the flat all by yourself most of the time. He wasn't too much of a hassle most of the time, and he knew how to treat your own boundaries well. It was perfect. 

Atleast to you. 

“Hate to burst your bubble, mother, but a flat in London is very expensive these days. I haven't been spending my money on unnecessary things.” 

“Maybe put that flatmate to use and get with him instead.” Your mum murmured under her breath, but you heard it loud and clear.

“MUM!” 

Ohmygod.

This woman was going to drive you nuts for the rest of the weekend. Was she that desperate that she was literally suggesting for you to get together with Joe? The woman was mad. 

“What?” Your mum gave you a look as if what she just said was not something so inappropriate. “You’re almost 30, and you don’t have a boyfriend nor have you brought anyone home at all.” 

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair. You were 28 years old for fuck’s sake. She didn’t understand how hard it was to date someone out there these days. Besides, you liked your independence. You liked doing things on your own. You liked the way everything was in your life right now. You didn’t need to change that. 

“You two have been flatmates for over a year, and you’re telling me you two haven’t had sex?”

Good lord.

You got up from your chair, shaking your head. You couldn’t take anymore of this conversation with her. She needed to go get checked out or something because the woman was insane. Mental for sure. 

“Mum!” Your face was all scrunched up with the idea of you and Joe doing it. “I don’t like him like that! Also, just so you know, he has a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend?” Your mum’s eyes widened. “And they don’t live together? That’s not going to last.”

“It’s his life, mum. Let him live the way he wants it to be.” You made your way towards the kitchen doorway. “Just like how you should let me live my own life.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Stop being so stiff and having an attitude with men all the time. That’s why no one asks you out.”

You sighed and paused in your tracks, turning to face your mum. You were ready for this conversation to be over.

“I’ll try.” You told her with a sarcastic hint in your voice before walking out of the kitchen, hearing your brother letting out a sigh. 

You knew he was frustrated for you too because he felt the same when it came to your father. Both of you dealt the same shit like this from your parents your whole lives. It wasn’t a surprise that the both of you were quick to move out of the house the moment you both graduated from secondary school. 

You flopped yourself on the sofa next to your dad, exhaling a sharp breath. The thought of you and Joe appeared in your mind, and you just couldn’t imagine it at all. You didn’t even know Joe well enough for you to like him like that. He was just your flatmate. A nice guy whenever he was around. That was all. 

“Mum bothering you?” Your dad interrupted your thoughts.

“Oh, you know, like always. She’s getting more and more inappropriate these days.” 

Your dad chuckled softly, taking a sip of his beer, his eyes were still laser focused on the game in front of him. 

“So, do you have a boyfriend at all?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a groan and threw your head back as soon as your dad mentioned that question. It was like you couldn’t get away from that subject at all in this house. You got up from the sofa and headed upstairs to your old room and stayed there until it was time for dinner. Your dad wasn’t as harsh as your mum when it came to conversations like these with you, but you were so sick of it. So sick of hearing the same question.

Why couldn’t anyone understand that you were fine being single? It wasn’t like you didn’t like being in a relationship. You were just bad at it, and you weren’t actively looking for one at the moment. You were too focused on your career, and why were they so adamant about you getting into a relationship when the both of them would fight all the time anyway? They couldn't even handle their own marriage well. Even now, they would argue in front of you or in front of their friends with no shame at all. It was stupid and ridiculous. 

How did they expect you to be in a relationship and deal with all that shit? 

It was all so terrifying.

You didn’t need that kind of shit in your life right now. You were perfectly fine being alone and just hanging out with your friends. You were fine meeting some man at the bar sometimes and maybe a little hookup but that was it. No strings attached after. Just a little bit of fun for a night. 

Coming home to your flat after that chaotic and terrible weekend at your parents’ house, you were so glad to be back in your own place. All you thought about the whole ride home on the train was how your bed was already calling you. You were ready to cuddle up in your fuzzy blanket, have some dinner and maybe a glass of wine, while finishing an episode of the show you were currently watching. 

Joe was in town for the next however many months. Who knows what his next schedule will be. You stopped keeping track of it since it would change all the time anyway. Though, you knew he was meeting his girlfriend, Ivy, tonight because he sent you a text when you were on the train that he left some dishes on the kitchen sink, but he would clean it up after his date with Ivy. 

Entering the flat, the place was dark and quiet. The only sound that you could hear was the heater automatically turning on every twenty minutes or so. Reaching for the light switch, you slapped it with your hand to turn on all the lights and made your way down the hall, dropping your duffel bag on the floor of your bedroom. You grabbed all your dirty clothes from your bag and threw it on the laundry basket before walking inside the shower to freshen up. Letting the hot water touch your skin, you exhaled sharply, letting your shoulders and mind relax. 

It was always like this.

You would find your whole body all tight and tense after visiting your parents’ house because of all the shit you have to deal with whenever you decide to come home. You didn’t even know why you would expect something else from them since it was always the same. You should have known. You couldn’t help but think about how you weren’t ever going back there again until Christmas because you couldn’t take anymore of hearing your parents’ nagging about the same thing all the time. 

Finally, pushing those thoughts away and reminding yourself that you were far far away from them now, you went to go make yourself some dinner and poured yourself a glass of white wine and settled onto the sofa. You figured maybe Joe wasn’t going to come home until later or better yet, he might stay over at Ivy’s place if he had too much to drink and couldn’t get away from her. 

You met Ivy a few times. She was tall and thin and an upcoming successful model. She was nice when you first met her but whenever she would come over after that, she would barely acknowledge you. It wasn’t like you really cared because it wasn’t any of your business. You did your own thing, and Joe did his. He never complained when, sometimes, you would bring a guy home, so why would you? 

During one of the nights that you and Joe would hang in your living room because you both ended up being bored on a weekend, he had mentioned that he and Ivy have been together for six months. From the conversation that you two had, it seemed like Joe really liked her. You couldn’t blame him though. She was pretty, confident, and a model. Who wouldn’t like her? 

So, after an hour of peace, you were sort of surprised when you heard his keys dangling on the other side of the front door as he unlocked it. It was only 9:30pm, and he usually doesn’t come home ‘til midnight or even at 2 am. Sometimes he doesn’t even come home at all. You heard the front door swung open and closed from down the hall as Joe’s heavy footsteps made the wooden floors creak. You drank your wine and looked over your shoulder to see him stumbling on his feet, walking towards you.

Was he drunk? This early?

Pausing the episode that you were watching, you got up from the sofa and walked over to where he was, helping him up on his feet. He was barely walking, and he was using the wall to lean onto it, so he wouldn’t fall flat on the floor.

“Are you okay?” You asked, taking his arm and wrapping it around your shoulder, helping him towards the sofa. 

Joe let out a sarcastic laugh and scoffed at the same time to the question you just asked. He flopped himself on the sofa and took a deep breath. He looked distressed. He could barely carry his head as he threw his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. You wondered if something happened with Ivy. You wondered if they fought or if she said something to make him this upset.

“Ivy broke up with me.” Joe shook his head, his voice full of despair. 

You raised your brows in surprise, sitting next to him. You weren’t good at comforting someone, so you didn’t really know what to do or say. 

“Oh.” It was all you could manage. “I’m so sorry. Did she tell you why?”

It was a dumb question.

Of course, she would tell Joe why. Unless she was that cold hearted that she just told him it was over and left him like this. She wouldn’t do that, right? You just asked that stupid question because you didn’t know what else to say.

“She said because I wasn’t in town all the time, so she barely sees me and when I’m in town, I barely pay attention to her.” Joe fluttered his eyes open, straightened himself on the sofa and reached for your wine glass on the table, drinking the rest of it.

What Ivy said was such a lie though. 

How could she say that Joe barely paid attention to her when all Joe ever did was visit her whenever he was in town. In fact, he doesn’t even come home sometimes because he would stay over at her place, so what else did she want from him? 

“You know what makes it worse?” Joe scoffed again, shaking his head in disbelief. “She had to drag your name in the argument too.”

Your name? 

What do you have to do with all of this? What do you have to do with their relationship?

“What did she say?” You asked. 

Somehow, you sort of afraid of what Joe was going to answer.

“She’s jealous of you.” Joe replied. “Can you believe that? She’s jealous of you! She asked why I’m flatmates with you.”

That still didn’t make sense as to why she would be jealous of you. She knew you have been living in the same flat as Joe’s for a year now and all of a sudden, she was jealous? 

“Why would she be jealous of me?”

Joe shrugged, looking around his surroundings like he was looking for something. “I don’t know. She said something about you being smarter, prettier and better than her.”

What was in the air lately? Had people gone mad or something? First, your mum was saying all kinds of nonsense shit and now, Joe just told you Ivy was jealous of you? 

Jealous? Was she serious?

Ivy was literally a model. Every man would fall to their knees to have her, but she chose Joe over the rest of them. Not that Joe wasn’t attractive or anything. He was attractive, nice, and a good guy, but she could literally have anyone she wanted. Now, she was comparing herself to you? That was just ridiculous and honestly, sort of got you baffled over it. You weren’t even anything special at all for her to feel that way.

You couldn’t say all of that out loud though. Joe was already upset enough.

“I’m sorry.” You told him again, but Joe was too busy looking for something as his head snapped back and forth from side to side, his eyes scanning the room. “What are you looking for?”

“The rest of this.” Joe held up your empty wine glass. “Is it okay if you stay here and keep me company? Please?”

You nodded your head as you got up from the sofa to get the bottle of wine that you left in the kitchen and grabbed yourself another glass. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to give Joe more alcohol but honestly, he probably needed it after tonight. Sitting back down next to him on the sofa, you poured the both of you some more wine, and you immediately took a sip of it, letting the liquid burn your throat and warm your stomach up.

“All her excuses were so stupid.” Joe drank his wine before continuing, “She knew how complicated my job could get, and I warned her about it, and she told me she could handle it. Now, she’s saying that she couldn’t?”

“I mean… if she knew about it, how come she’s acting like this was all new information she was just learning?” You turned to your side, fully facing Joe.

You brought your feet up and rested it underneath you to settle yourself on the sofa comfortably and continued to drink your wine. “You’re an actor. You are bound to travel to different countries, especially if it's a big part of your job.”

“Exactly! Thank you!” Joe threw his hand up in the air. “And bringing you in the conversation? Why would she be jealous of you? She had known all this time we���re just flatmates.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. She seemed okay when I first met her. Then, she barely acknowledged me ever since.”

Joe scoffed, finishing his glass of wine before pouring himself more. You might want to take that bottle of wine from him soon because he might get even more drunk as he continues to vent over Ivy. 

“I feel like you’re the only one who understands. I know we barely talk because I’m barely even home most of the time, but thank you.” 

Joe was genuine and sincere and even when he was all upset, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. That was the one thing that you noticed about Joe. His eyes never lie. You could always tell the difference if he was lying or if he was telling the truth. Though, he didn’t really need to thank you. You understood how important his career was because you felt the same when it came to yours. However, it didn’t mean that he stopped caring about Ivy. You could see how much he liked her. 

“You communicated with her about everything that came with your career when she started dating you. Maybe you should try and communicate with her again about all of this? You know… to give her reassurance.” 

“I tried.” Joe leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “But she refused to believe me. She said she couldn’t handle it anymore.”

You pursed your lips and stared at your distressed flatmate for a moment, not really knowing what else to say or do. Joe picked the worst person to vent about his relationship problems because what did you even know about a relationship? Yeah, you have been in a couple of relationships, but you were terrible at it. That was why you never tried to be in one. It was better that way. But you couldn’t tell Joe that. It seemed like he really wanted to fix this and be with Ivy.

“I really liked her too.” Joe played with the empty glass in his hand. “I really thought we were going to last.” 

“I’m really sorry.”

You scolded yourself for saying that for about a millionth time tonight. As if your sorrys were going to help his situation. You just didn’t know what else to say or do, and you hated it. Hated the fact that you couldn’t comfort someone without feeling all cringey and uncomfortable. Giving Joe some affection was going to make it worse too.

You blamed your own mother for being so cold your whole life. Affection and comforting someone didn’t run well in your family. Though, you knew you mostly were just blaming your mother because you were still frustrated over the chaotic weekend that you had to deal with. 

What a start of a New Year for you and Joe, huh? 

Joe continued on to rant about Ivy, but you could tell he was just angry and frustrated with her. You could see it in his eyes that he still felt something for her. Of course, that wasn’t going to go away easily. Eventually, he had fallen asleep on the sofa. So tired from all the venting and so drunk from all the alcohol he drank that he just crashed.

You got up from the sofa quietly and grabbed the throw blanket, covering him up, so he was comfortable and warm. There was no way you were able to carry him back in his room. He was just going to have to be comfortable on the sofa. For a second, you studied Joe that was peacefully sleeping in front of you and thought how you sort of felt bad for him. You couldn’t really put the pieces together as to why Ivy would act like that, especially how she felt about you. You barely saw Joe around lately, and you thought Ivy felt the same way about him with the way she would act around him whenever she would come over. 

Laying on your bed that night, staring at your ceiling, you kept comparing yourself to Ivy. She was a model, you were just someone who worked at a biotech lab. She was much prettier and taller. You were short and not at all pretty—at least you thought so— compared to her. You were nowhere near famous or known by certain people when you walked down the street unlike Ivy and Joe. 

Closing your eyes and letting the subject go, you just hoped that maybe Joe would at least feel a little better tomorrow. 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield

(I can't remember anyone else who wanted to be in the taglist so please let me know if you want to be in it).

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn rpf #Joe Quinn rpf #Is It Over Now? #blairrwaldorfs

[chimivx]

expecting, expected. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }

summary: Exhaustion, anxiety, hormones... This is life now, for the next nine months... And it's time to tell your friends!

words: 6k

warnings: fluffy (lol), mentions of sex, suggestive conversation, jikook warning, drinking, grown adults out for dinner and interacting, If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: HI! You already know what I'm posting. VEGAS SERIES ADDITION! I'm unsure how I feel about this one... Fell in love with it, but now... I dunno. I hope you ENJOY IT if you read it! I'm in need of more fluffy dad!Yoongi so be prepared, more of that will be coming. I'm never letting this series go.

{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }

Tucked beneath a blanket, curled up in a ball on Yoongi’s lap watching the new episode of Run BTS, you were fighting to keep your eyes open, doing the slow blink. Running his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails soothingly over your scalp, it was as if Yoongi was actively trying to get you to fall asleep. That’s all you’ve been able to do for the past two weeks anyway, and it didn’t matter where you were, you were dozing off at random.

Shortly after the Golden Disc Awards, and that blur of a day, you were scheduled to see a doctor where the news you knew to be true was confirmed. Yoongi stood by your side watching attentively as the doctors did bloodwork, spoke with you about your symptoms, and gave you a long list of do’s and don'ts for you to follow for the next nine months after they showed the two of you that you were definitely pregnant.

This early on it wasn’t necessary for you to see a doctor yet, considering your age and your health, however Yoongi let his worry’s slip to a director, one of the higher ups that had most of the power. Keeping the entire situation on the down low, it was decided you’d be treated as if you were an Idol yourself, being ushered into the office almost against your will, a place where you’d get the most prompt, unconditional care throughout your pregnancy.

You didn’t expect anything less from Yoongi. That morning, holding onto his hand, his other was wrapped around you protectively wherever you went. You knew he would go overboard. Your dark haired, still in physical therapy boyfriend found a new hobby- waiting on you hand and foot, like he wasn’t the star of the household. None of that even mattered in your rapport anyway, you were the star of his life.

After the awards, once the two of you were back home and cuddled underneath the safety of your bed covers, nearly nose to nose, you took turns speaking into the early hours of the morning. Initial shock had subsided, and you were both able to actively listen to one another, and think rationally. Yoongi expressed his excitement, telling you how he dreams of this, wanting to do it all with you, only if you wanted it too.

When the sun had risen and the time was checked, laughter was shared along with a reassuring kiss. 

Meeting Yoongi at twenty two, you were young, still at the beginning of your life. Barely out of college, you didn’t have a clue if you ever wanted to have children, the thought rarely crossed your mind. For a while it was full of, how am I going to pay for my next meal, before it did a complete one eighty, turning into, what city are we flying to next? You were jet-set for six years until the global shutdown of the year 2020.

Now, age twenty eight, with seven years of a relationship down, living with the man who knew you better than anyone else, and loved you three times as much… Things had shifted. A universal halt wasn’t expected because of a new rampant illness in the world, and though it came with extreme measures, it was exactly what you and Yoongi needed. It gave you time to grow up a little bit, your subconscious doing most of that work. 

During the hours and hours of whispering like two people with a secret, the work done in the shadows was unveiled, sparking the realization that you did in fact want this. You were ready for the next step of life with the man you loved.

“Oh, you’re out,” You hear Yoongi speak quietly to himself, feeling him shift beneath you a bit. With closed eyes, you roll over to face his torso and sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, weaseling it between his back and the couch cushion.

“Not out,” You barely whisper. Yoongi looks down at your sleepy face with a smile, putting a hand back into your hair, stroking it with care.

“You missed the rest of the episode,” He says, “You started snoring before they even split into teams.”

“No… I didn’t,” You mumble, “I saw.”

“Who won?” He perks an eyebrow, finding it amusing you were laying here lying to him in real time.

Without missing a beat you whisper, “Jungkook,” And he starts to laugh, resting his head back on the couch.

Both teams had won actually, they made some incredible food. Yoongi was content with you on his lap, and hungry. He debated telling you the truth, but figured you’d want to rewatch it later when you had some more energy, so he kept the answer to himself. This was the second time you tried to watch it, you fell asleep during the premiere of it last night, curling up under his arm in bed.

Letting you rest, Yoongi picks up his phone to check his messages. There were plans set for later today with the guys, and Sunny was joining as well, flying in from a job to visit. The nine of you were meeting for dinner at a cozy, quiet spot where you would be able to share the news of your pregnancy with your family. Though two of them were told two weeks ago, they kept their mouths shut, which was utterly impressive.

The seven boys were interviewed the night of the Golden Disc Awards, and there was a moment of panic that something would slip, at least to more of the boys. The interviewer had them share New Years wishes with each other, sending it to the boy to their right. Jin, the unlucky bastard, was stood next to Yoongi and had to watch his mouth.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to share, he found out moments ago that his best friend was going to be a father. This new year was huge for Yoongi, one he’s dreamed of, and Jin wanted to shout his happiness from the rooftops. 

Loving someone as much as Jin loved Yoongi, and watching that person go through hardship after hardship finally find their reason for living, their reason for true happiness… That’s a feeling that can’t be explained.

So, opting for awkward laughter and the introverted persona of Jin, he shared his well wishes with Yoongi carefully, taking his time, making sure it was simple. Yoongi listened anxiously, beckoning him with his eyes pointed to the floor to keep it quick, but took his brother's words to heart, recognizing and understanding every underlying meaning behind the short message.

Looking through his phone now, he has two unread messages from Jin that he swipes by, deciding to open them after he reaches out to Sunny. Tapping on her thread, he chuckles at the last picture he sent- you sitting on the bathroom floor in just a t-shirt, glaring at the camera, flashing him a middle finger. It was from a couple of days ago when you were physically unable to be in any other room, because the moment you stepped off the tile, you were overcome by nausea and yanked back in front of the toilet.

Thankfully that period of time didn’t last too long. Now you’re going through an energy depletion, the tiny little group of cells inside of you stealing it all soon after you try to recharge.

Sunny, who was now working select dates with a couple Kardashians, was oblivious, and didn’t think anything strange of the picture. She sent a heart in reply, and went on her merry way through Los Angeles, shaking salads with Kourtney.

[yoongi]: ETA?

Yoongi sends to your best friend, watching the screen as bubbles pop up in an instant.

[Sunita Sunshine]: Landed about a half hour ago!!! I’m in an Uber…… meeting Jin for drinks before we come see you guys

[Sunita Sunshine]: How’s lover girl feeling??? Any better?

Yoongi’s heart just about flies out of his chest. He types back to her with lightning speed.

[yoongi]: She’s great… Why?

[Sunita Sunshine]: She was sick right??? Before golden discs until like a couple days ago….. I talked to her

He sighs, letting his eyes shut for a second, completely forgetting the two of you, though in different parts of the world most times, still shared everything with each other.

[yoongi]: Right. Yeah she’s good now, she can't wait to see you

Tilting his head to the side, he peeks down at you from behind his phone screen. Eyes closed, lips parted slightly, taking in slow deep breaths, you sure seemed ecstatic to be having dinner with the best friend you haven’t seen in a couple of months.

The iPhone in Yoongi’s hand starts to buzz dramatically. He’s had his ringer turned off for a few days since these bouts of narcolepsy were at random. A facetime was coming in from Jungkook, another member of his group that had the pleasure of knowing your secret. You couldn’t help yourself, when he flashed you a wholesome smile and your emotional state was overcome by comfort, you let it slip.

“Hey, man,” Yoongi answers, keeping his voice quiet. He clicks the volume down a few notches, watching the screen as it’s pointed at the cloudy, grey, January sky. “Are you outside?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jungkook says, finally appearing inside the box wearing a black bucket hat over his bleach blonde hair, “I’m about to walk into Jimin’s, I just left the studio,” Yoongi can hear the smacking of his stompers on the concrete, “They, uh, they want to do my hair purple for Butter.”

“Oh no,” Yoongi mutters as Jungkook glances away for a second to somewhere ahead of him, and smiles. His eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Did I just hear you say they want your hair purple?” Jimin can be heard off screen. It goes black for a second, Yoongi can hear muffled voices, then the top of Jungkook’s head appears again.

“Yeah, purple,” Jungkook sighs.

“Thought you wanted it blue, maybe?” The end of Jimin’s sentence sounded like he said the word, baby, instead of, maybe, but maybe Yoongi’s brain was overridden by nerves for this evening, making him hear things. The two step into Jimin’s home, Yoongi just along for the ride as they converse about this dire hair matter.

“Uh,” He gets their attention back and points the phone down to you. Jimin coo’s, peering at the screen with a pouty lip. “Can this be discussed tonight? Why was I called?” Yoongi chuckles, bringing the camera focus back to himself. Jungkook cringes, like he suddenly remembered your condition.

“Sorry,” He says, “She wasn’t answering, thought it meant Sunny was there, I need to talk to her about it.”

“You’ll see her tonight,” Yoongi says, “She’s getting drinks with Jin right now.”

“Jin?!” Jimin exclaims, grabbing the phone from Jungkook’s hands, “That woman wanted to see ME!” The diva was shushed by both Yoongi and Jungkook, the youngest snatching his phone back from his tiny hands.

“I’ll see you later,” Jungkook says to Yoongi before he glances up to Jimin, “I don’t want purple hai-” And the phone hangs up, trilling a sad little tune, announcing the end of the call.

“His TinyTan has dark hair, D, I swear, if I have to create one for Butter, and I’m told to match whatever color they give him, Army will rip me to shreds if the shade isn’t right,” You say, startling your boyfriend the slightest, “Remember the pink hair? I didn’t sleep.” Opening your eyes, you look up at Yoongi who is gazing back with a small smile. Placing his phone aside, he shakes his head.

“You won’t be doing anything, you’re taking time off from work,” He says, keeping his tone soft, “No more sleepless nights and caffeine highs.” Rolling your eyes, you huff.

“Yeah, that’s for after September,” You whisper, though you were unsure when your baby would be arriving. It takes him a couple of seconds to catch what you said, both of you laughing once he does. 

Sitting up, you situate yourself beside him and smile, saying, “Dream ON is doing really well.”

“Why are you checking stats?” Yoongi disciplines, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“I have to stay busy,” You shrug, “TinyTan was my entire year last year, do you know how many ideas I have? I already have something for Dynamite on paper, even though no one’s asked me to do it.”

“I don’t want you to stress yourself out, there’s no reason to rush. You need rest.”

“No, I need them out of the Mic Drop outfits, it’s been years since that came out, I don’t know what I was thinking,” You shake your head before laying it on his shoulder. It was a tad sore today, but Yoongi didn’t mention it. He needed you to be comfortable, he wasn’t worried about himself at all.

Planting a kiss to the top of your head, he keeps his head there, lifting the hand that was around your shoulder to graze your hair once more. His gentle touch is soothing, helping you relax like it had when you laid down to watch the show, but coupled with the kiss, your raging hormones were reading the wrong room.

Lifting your head, you turn your chin to press your lips to his in a rush. Yoongi barely has a chance to react before you climb into his lap and slide your hands around his neck, slipping them up into his black locks. Parting your lips, you dance your tongue across his bottom lip and deepen the kiss, the strongest warmth erupting within your center. Powerless with his head locked to the cushion, Yoongi hums and attempts to pull away.

“Baby,” He chuckles as you resort to kissing his cheek, down to his jaw.

“Shhh,” You hush, dipping your head to press open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“You should nap, we have dinner.”

“Not tired anymore,” You sigh, dragging your tongue from his collar bone to behind his ear, nibbling his earlobe for half a second, “I need you.”

“You need sleep, you’ll be nodding off at dessert,” Yoongi’s eyes shut during the jaw kisses, he thinks, his voice coming out of him now on auto-pilot while his body responded to you directly. His breathy, lust filled sigh that leaves his lips after his words makes your brain short circuit. Grinding down on his lap, your fingers tighten in his hair, giving the strands a harsh tug. Brushing your nose against his, you kiss his lips and whine after you part.

“Yoongi,” Whispering his full name, something that rarely leaves your lips, his eyes pop open, heavy lidded. The desperate riff graces his ears while your widened eyes plead with his. Yoongi could easily walk away from this, let you go upstairs to get some sleep before your night out, and be completely fine. On the other hand, your fixed gaze was begging him, telling him that you were not going to be completely fine if he didn’t do something.

His eyes studying you was nearly enough of a connection to satisfy the emotional hunger, but then his hands slid up your thighs and your knees tightened around his waist. Every move he made, your body heightened the sensation to a hundred.

“Take me upstairs… Right now,” You whisper from behind clenched teeth. Yoongi smirks, giving the round of your ass a squeeze, watching your body melt before him, listening with delight as his traveling fingers make you moan and groan.

“There’s no time to go upstairs,” He breathes, gripping your waist as he stands to his feet, laying you down on your back, settling over you, “Gonna fuck this out of you right here.”

In the backseat of the car taking you to dinner, Yoongi’s hand was sliding up and down the inside of your thigh. His eyes were on the road where he sat in the center seat, staying observant of your surroundings at all times.

Glancing down to your phone that had been blowing up for the past five minutes, you open another message from Sunny.

[Sunny Girl]: Why did Tae just say you have something to tell us???? Can you HURRY UP and GET HERE

“She’s pissed,” You show Yoongi the message, and he laughs under his breath.

“Tell her I had to pry you off of me to get you in the shower,” He raises a brow, keeping his words quiet, between you. Pressing your lips together, you shoot him a silly glare.

“I don’t know what to say to her,” You say, staring at the text, “I don’t know what to say to anybody, I’m freaking out.” Yoongi looks back down at you, this time with worried eyes.

“Freaking out?” He mumbles, giving your leg a squeeze.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask with a small laugh, meeting his eyes. Thinking to himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “What?!”

“Baby, two of them know already,” He breaks into a grin, but not to diminish your anxiety, to help push down his own. On the inside he was a mess, on the outside he was as cool as a cucumber. The two of you shared crises, and he knew that this one would be yours to have, so he ignored his own anxiety for you.

“I’ve known Sunny since I was twelve,” You say, “You see the way she loves me, this is about to deck her straight in the face, D,” Yoongi holds in a laugh, and nods, “What if she tries to do something crazy?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” You glance around the car as if the answer was going to jump out from the wrinkles in the leather seats, “Like, put her job on hold, and try to move in with us… Or, or… Quit the Kardashian show, and move in with us…”

“Hm,” Yoongi frowns, lowering his brows, “Sounds like you want her to move in with us.”

“No!” You shout, slapping a hand to his chest, “I don’t want that! We don’t want that,” You lower your voice dramatically, “Trust me, I lived with Sun, you don’t want that.”

“Okay, then if she tries, we tell her no,” Yoongi soothes, letting his hand explore the fabric of your pants like it had been for the ride. He glances to your hand on his chest that was slowly starting to grip the cotton, your fingers tightening passionately. “Take a deep breath, please.” Yoongi reaches for your hand, declawing it from his beating heart, linking his fingers with yours. Listening, you suck in a breath and release it with shaky hands.

The car makes one last turn around a tall, white building, coming to a stop at the back where your car door was opened for you. Clutching Yoongi’s fingers like he was going to leave, you slide out of the car and come face to face with a familiar man who gives you the most welcoming smile, washing away some of your nerves.

“Branson, you would be here,” You grin, throwing an arm around his back to hug him, keeping Yoongi close. The two guys share pleasantries, then the head of security looks you up and down and shrugs.

“You’re here, I have to be,” He says, “Shall we?” Branson gestures toward the door, giving the space behind and around the car a scan with his sharp eyes.

Gripping the long, metal hand of the door, Yoongi pulls it open for you, letting you lead him inside the dimly lit, beautifully decorated restaurant that smelled of everything delicious. He feels your fingers tighten even more, if that was possible, and it makes him wonder how powerful your grip will be the day you give birth to the child. This is only the day you’re telling your friends you’re having it, he had nine more months to get used to this.

Passing by the bathrooms, Yoongi pulls you back a second to make sure you saw where they were, then lets you continue on your flustered jog down the hall. Turning a corner, the space you’ve arrived in is totally empty, except for a round table in the corner that is surrounded by your rowdy group of friends making a scene with drinks in their hands.

“AYE!” Is called out from the commotion, and six other heads whip around to find you approaching with a pep in your step. Sunny, leaping to her feet with two glasses in her hand, clicks over to your side in her high heels and hugs you as best as she can with the drinks occupying her extremities. Kissing both of your cheeks, she sighs and takes a long look at you, big, soft eyes taking in every detail.

Wearing a smile, her eyes narrow a bit, asking you quietly, “Why do you look different?” 

“Different?” You repeat in a flash, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi, “I don’t look… I don’t look different.” Nervous laughter escapes you with every breath.

“You were having sex when I called you three times, weren’t you?” Sunny grills, turning her eyes over to Yoongi who smirks, pointing his chin up to the ceiling to avoid her glare. Blushing, the nervous laughter takes over.

“Sunny!” You say, wiggling Yoongi’s hand that was still latched to yours. Your best friend looks down at them.

“You can’t even let go of him,” She laughs with you, “It’s alright, I know, you’re in love, nothings changed,” Sticking her tongue out to mark her faux disgust, she holds out one of the glasses in her hands, giving it to you, “Here, Jungkook tried to tell me I shouldn’t get it for you, but tonight is a night to celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” You question.

“Yes! All of us here, together. I haven’t seen this in months,” The smile that relaxes her face is sincere, “Which makes me have to ask,” She shifts her attention to Yoongi, “How’s the shoulder?” Stepping closer to him, she lifts her now empty hand to rub his arm. Using this opportunity to slip away, you release his hand to hurry over to Jungkook sitting beside Jimin at the table.

Watching as you scurry away, Yoongi answers all of Sunny’s questions while shaking his now emancipated fingers.

“I assume this is for you?” You half ask the blonde boy standing up to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Smells a little fruity, must be yours,” Jungkook giggles, baring his teeth, taking the icey glass from you.

“Told her not to get it, but she insisted,” He rolled his eyes, “She’s persistent that one.” Pulling back a chair on the other side of him, he offers it to you, pushing you in after you sit down.

“Don’t I know it,” You say, giving Jimin a wave.

“She doesn’t know it’s really for me,” Jungkook lifts the glass as if to ‘cheers’, then takes a sip. His lips pull into a frown as he swallows it. “Oh god,” Wincing at the flavor, he sits the glass on the polished wood finish of the table and slides it in front of Jimin, “Maybe this is for you.” He whispers, making you laugh.

“Kookie,” You pop out your bottom lip staring at his wavy hair, “Are they really going to make you go purple?” He groans, folding his hands on his lap.

“I don’t want it,” He says, sitting back in his chair, “I like this blonde, and I honestly would want blue over purple,” Jungkook nods toward Sunny, still chatting away with Yoongi and now Jin who joined the duo, “She says blue is better with, uh, I dunno, something about my skintone?”

“Oh my god!” You lean into him, grabbing his arm, “Do blue, think about me, do blue. I have designs to do, even though Yoongi won’t let me near them, and if you do blue it will be so much easier to mix.”

“Why won’t he let you near your work?” Jimin asks, inviting himself into the conversation with a scrunched up face of confusion. Straightening up, you clear your throat and look at Jungkook for help. He looks at you, then at Jimin, then back to you and widens his eyes in defeat. Releasing the tiniest sigh, you tilt your head and play dumb.

“I think it’s because I was sick,” You say convincingly enough.

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin’s face shifts to a worried one, “I’d wanna ease you back in too, especially with everything we have coming up between the singles and the music videos and the shows-”

“Chim,” Jungkook cuts him off with a smile, then turns to you, “You’ll be fine, I promise.” Amidst Jimin's rambles, the anxiety about work you've set aside for the future wanted to worm its way into this important night. Babies were time, babies were money. Two things you once used to struggle with before you fell into the grasp of the man walking up behind your chair.

Yoongi’s arms slid around your shoulders slowly. Everyone took their seats around the table, leaving the chair next to you empty for your boyfriend to have.

“Do we need to walk away?” He whispers to you, smiling and nodding at Hoseok across the table. A shake of your head wasn’t enough to get him off your case, he whispers again, “What’s going on?”

“Normal stuff,” You mumble, turning your chin to peek at him.

“New normal stuff?” He raises a brow.

“No, we’ve talked about it before.”

“Lovebirds, can we eat?” Sunny sing songs, waving her hands in your direction, “I’m starved.”

The thought of eating mixed with your nerves has you screwing your eyes shut as nausea clouds over your being. On your back you feel Yoongi take a breath, and stand up tall, placing both hands on either of your shoulders. Massaging you for a moment, he sighs theatrically, catching the attention of the attendance around the table.

“We’re still… getting better,” Yoongi bobs his head. A couple of the guys pulled a face, or nodded along with him, Sunny however, was quick to pick up his bullshit.

“You said she was great earlier,” She says, confused.

“Uh, well, you know what it’s like to come back from being sick, right?” Yoongi nervously chuckles, glancing at Jin and Jungkook for some kind of backup. He wasn’t sure you were going to go through with telling them tonight, this could be you backing out of your announcement. Jin launches forward, sipping his drink through a straw.

“Totally!” He says with wide eyes, picking up on his cue, coughing after he swallows his drink, “If you guys need to go, we get it.” Yoongi gives him a smile to thank him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sunny’s voice gets louder. Sitting forward herself, she bumps Jin's shoulder, “You’ve been at their defense all day, this girl is fine,” She then squints at how you were sitting, still with your eyes shut, barely taking in any of the conversation happening around you, “I know you, I know you two, something is up.” Snapping your eyes open, you jump up to your feet, taking everyone by surprise. Sunny’s words had struck a nerve, a fiery one.

“I… We…” You choke out, reaching a hand behind you to grab something of Yoongi’s. Finding his hand, you yank him closer. One of his arms slides around your body, holding you close to his front, while his other holds your hand happily, his thumb drawing circles on your palm. Anxiety has riddled your expression, but Yoongi’s smirk tells the group that there’s something juicy on the way.

“Oh my god,” Sunny gasps, planting her fingers over her mouth, looking down at your left hand, searching it for clues. That’s the first thing that gets you to finally smile.

“What!?” Taehyung glances at her, attempting to follow the line of her eyes, “What is going on?” 

“Say something, somebody,” Namjoon bangs a fist on the table once, wearing  a light smile, sitting forward with anticipation like those without the knowledge of your news.

“Tell them,” Yoongi says quietly, yet loud enough for everybody to hear him. Your tentative eyes scour the table, starting with Jin who couldn’t put his drink down, passing by suspicious Sunny, confused Taehyung, smiley Namjoon, hopeful Hoseok, and pouty Jimin, ending with Jungkook who held tens of thousands of galaxies in his eyes. The smile he wore was incredibly sincere, gazing up at you like you were his idol. 

Giving Yoongi one more look, he smiles, waiting patiently.

“I’m not sick,” You say with a breath, turning back to your friends. Taehyung fake gasps, making Hoseok giggle. Yoongi scolds them with his eyes, the two friends jumping back into place, to listen to what you have to say, but you choke again. “Can’t do it, you do it.” You whisper, squeezing Yoongi’s hand.

“Me? You sure?” He asks, and you nod, closing your eyes. Yoongi wastes no time, looking out proudly to his friends. “We’re pregnant,” He says with a grin. 

At the sound of the words, your eyes open to a reaction you did not expect. No one had moved.

“Is that it?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “That’s it. I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking called it!” He shouts with a smile toward Jimin. 

“You did not call this, this was expected,” The It boy rolls his eyes.

“Hold on,” You stop the bickering by holding up a hand, “This was expected?” You tilt your chin and glare at him. Pouty lips smirk back.

“Guys,” He says quietly, looking between you and Yoongi.

“He’s not wrong,” Hoseok says sheepishly, lifting his shoulders to his ears.

“What!” Yoongi sighs, laughing. Jimin starts to plead his case with Taehyung and Hoseok to Yoongi, bringing up your relationship's past, and your favorite thing to do together. You want to listen, you want to hear what they’re discussing, because it’s about you, but you’re glued on Sunny.

Sitting sideways, body facing Jin, her eyes that were once sharp, and a little pissed off, had softened immensely. Your goddess of a best friend slowly shook her head in tiny, lips parting in shock. Standing up, pushing her chair back aggressively, she pulled the boys away from their amusing bickering, her aura sucking them in.

“You’re pregnant?” She asks just above a whisper, never once leaving your gaze. Nodding, your smile starts to grow. “You’re gonna keep it?”

“Wouldn’t have told you all I was if I wasn’t,” You chuckle awkwardly, feeling a lump in your throat, “I’m gonna be a mom.” The cry breaks, tears stream down your cheeks as Sunny pushes past Jin’s chair to throw her arms around you, holding you so tight you can feel her heart beating a mile a minute.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” She repeats, and her own tears start.

“Yeah, you are!” Jungkook cheers, the next one to stand up. Holding open his arms for Yoongi, your boyfriend smiles and takes him in, patting him on his back a couple of times, sending him another type of thank you for keeping your secret.

There is at least five minutes occupied by hugs, and congratulations, and kisses as you and Yoongi share broken info with each member who was the next to approach you. Yoongi tells the story of the Golden Disc Awards, how that was the day you had found out, and ultimately the reason you were plastered to the couch the entire time, not even making it out to see the show. At the mention of it, you feel your heart twist. You wanted to watch that performance.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung sings, slapping an arm around Yoongi’s back.

“I know,” Yoongi says. Since he spilled the news, he was unable to control his smile.

“And I thought Jimin would be the first,” Taehyung says.

“Hah,” Jimin cackles, “I can’t get pregnant!” In front of him, Jungkook shoots him the quickest look of worry, like he just leaked some kind of secret of his own, but it’s brushed away as fast as it had come up.

“What the hell did that mean?” You ask Jungkook, elbowing his tattooed bicep. 

“No idea,” He whispers, giving Jimin a deadly look.

“You besties okay?” You question, a joking tone hidden within it.

“We’re fine,” Jungkook sighs, switching to a more positive energy, “How do you feel? Everyone knows!” He hugs you for the fifth time, giving you a shake.

“I think… I think I feel hungry,” You say after some thought, and Jungkook pulls away with mischievous eyebrows that make you giggle.

“You’ve read my mind,” He says, then releases you to toss his hands in the air, gathering the attention of the room, “Baby Mama is hungry, let’s eat.” He blushes at his own words, covering his mouth with a hand as he glances at you with a grin.

“Baby Mama!” Sunny repeats, the group laughing together.

Yoongi approaches you as everyone begins to take their seats. With his lips pulled into a smile puffing out his cheeks, your stomach takes a tumble, finding him incredibly adorable. Sliding his arms around your torso, he pulls you close and kisses your temple. 

“I don’t think I see anyone packing their bags,” He says quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. Rolling your eyes, you smile and laugh under your breath.

“Give her a week,” You say, rising to your tiptoes to give him a proper kiss, and when you take a breath, you smirk and whisper, “Congratulations daddy.”

Widening his eyes, Yoongi huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “No, no, don’t do that.” 

With a giggle, you press your lips to his, and mumble a quiet, “I love you.”

Taking your seats at the table with your friends, there’s a tremendous relief, a huge weight taken off of your shoulders now that they know. Throughout the dinner they asked a million and one questions, which should’ve made you nervous, but instead gave you an excitement you haven’t felt yet.

All seven of your friends were going to be there for you throughout this entire experience, ready to help, ready to pitch in, ready to look after you, as well as the man beside you who held his hand over your thigh for the entirety of dinner. You were loved, you were supported, but most importantly, you were happy. Completely, utterly, truly happy.

Here are some of the events & works mentioned in this piece for reference... I spent some time studying & watching these!

Golden Disc Interview

TinyTAN Dream ON

In no means do I mean to discredit anyone who created TinyTAN or worked on it. In this piece of fiction, OC is a 'ghost' creator and remains anonymous, so all original creators in ACTUAL real life are still there to be credited. This is a piece of FICTION.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece! 

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

~

vegas series tags <3

@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place @ahewlett

#yoongs #yoongi #min yoongi #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #suga #jimin #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x you #bts smut #yoongi fic #dad!bts #dad suga #dad bts #dad yoongi #dad!yoongi never leaving #ot7 #ot7 fic #bts fic #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #suga fic #min suga #suga imagine #suga smut #suga fluff

[chiskz]

... Very Early Birthday ...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.4k

𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 21 July 2023 (Lollapalooza)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Chichi and Changbin finally steal their first moment as a couple and decide to celebrate Changbin's birthday much earlier than they should.

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬: Circle, Triangle, Square Trilogy

♡𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @alyszaen , @smh-anon , @neohyxn , @stealanity , @alixnsuperstxr , @juliawritingblog , @rizzshimura , @elizalabs3

"I don't know if this is a good idea..."

July 21st, a very late hour, actually it was already night. The performance at Lollapalooza wore them all out, but they were going to head back to Korea first thing in the morning anyway. Chichi would not miss such an opportunity to spend her birthday with her boyfriend in Paris... even if it will be more than half a month earlier.

Boyfriend... It's been less than six months since she and Changbin entered into a secret relationship that only the rest of Kids knew about. She still couldn't get used to it, yet she felt endless lightness and joy every day because of it. She had always thought that relationships were not for her, since high school she had felt no interest at all toward boys for fear that any of them could be her potential abuser. However, Changbin slowly healed her wounds, covered her scars by making them hide under new, tougher skin. With his help and support, she eventually began to grow and try many new things. The best starts outside your comfort zone," he used to say. Of course, that wouldn't work for everyone, but for her, nothing was scary anymore with him and the other members. Chichi was slowly finally blossoming.

"No one will recognize us in the middle of the night. Do you trust me or not?"

She asked, sitting down next to him on the bed in his hotel room where she had come. He shared it with Seungmin, while she shared hers again with Jeongin, and so it wasn't hard to get rid of them - just bribe them with dinner at a good pub near the hotel.

"I trust you. But what did you plan in the middle of the night?"

"You act as if big cities die at exactly eight o'clock."

She poked him lightly with her elbow, to which Changbin finally "gave in," although in fact he had intended from the very beginning to go with her wherever she wanted to go. So they got up, put on their face masks and went downstairs to the lobby, where the manager was waiting for them. His presence was not to their liking, but it was a necessity to keep them out of trouble. Chichi slipped the manager a phone with the location she wanted to go to so he could "accept" it, and when he did with a quick nod, they could finally get going.

It wasn't far, so they could easily go there on foot. They were all dressed similarly - dark sweatpants, loose sports sweatshirts, Chichi had a baseball cap, and the faces of all three were covered by black masks. They looked like friends walking into town, which according to Ichi should not arouse anyone's suspicions.

Their destination was a small bridge, overlooking the Eiffel Tower. Although it was far away and partially hidden behind one of the buildings, it was still clearly visible because of its lighting. Moreover, there was not a living soul here besides them, so they could enjoy the view of the tower in peace. Changbin and Chichi leaned against the bridge, while the manager politely walked a bit further away to talk on the phone, although his goal was a bit different... The rapper looked at her, slipping his mask over his chin.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic."

"I'm not romantic." She replied immediately, directing her gaze from him to the tower in the distance. "Just... don't you sometimes feel like going out, taking a breath and pretending that time has stopped? That it's just you and... all you have here."

She touched his heart carefully with her index finger, but Changbin put his hand on her palm and stopped it on his body while looking at her seriously. He swallowed, thinking deeply.

"Sometimes yes." He replied finally. "When I feel too overwhelmed I usually try to write songs, or compose. But sometimes there is so much that I feel like my hand can't keep up with my thoughts."

Ichi nodded slightly, looking away from his chest. The glowing Eiffel Tower in the distance now seemed to them a stoic refuge, a symbol of what they crave, what is within reach, but at the same time so unattainable. Why are they standing here, alone on an unknown other small bridge, instead of going under the tower and admiring it to its fullest with other tourists? Because they are famous. Because they are recognizable, someone would immediately take a picture of them, despite their great camouflage. The photo would hit the Internet and the rumor wheel would start spinning becoming unstoppable. After all, it already happened once, when the two went to a restaurant as still friends and were caught by a "kind Internet user." Hanging over them was the possibility of a repeat of that event, which effectively kept them upright. Perhaps too effectively... They were stuck in a glass cage through which everything they could not have could be seen perfectly. Changbin placed a kiss so tender on the top of Chichi's head that if they had been in greener terrain, she would have thought a leaf had fallen on her head. Without a word, she put her arms around his waist and hugged her head to his shoulder.

"I fought for a long time to have what I have now." He began to speak again to break the silence. "And I don't regret anything. Well, maybe one thing... That I really can't get a distance from it all sometimes."

Ichi answered nothing, but he knew she had listened and understood. He put one arm around her and put the palm of his other hand on her head.

Changbin was right, there was nothing to regret, and it wasn't that she did. She was grateful for everything she had received, everything she had and everything she had achieved. But what she was supposed to do, after all, she was still human after all, and sometimes, like now, she was drawn to freedom unbroken by the presence of third parties.

Fortunately, there was no more time to consider such serious topics further, as their manager returned - with a pink cake with candles lit on it. Chichi immediately moved away from Changbin and jumped up to join the manager in singing "Happy Birthday". Changbin only covered his mouth with both hands to at least muffle loud laughter. She wasn't kidding about his birthday! Ichi took the cake in her hands and approached the "birthday boy" with it, who, after a short thought, blew out the candles.

"I made it myself!" She called out immediately with pride, but Changbin raised an eyebrow. "Well, okay, I bought it, but I decorated it myself!" But Changbin didn't fall for that either... She lowered her eyebrows. "Okay, Felix helped me."

She replied resignedly and took two plastic forks from the manager, then handed one to Changbin so they could start eating. The man couldn't stop smiling the whole time.

"I haven't celebrated a birthday that early before." He said.

"I couldn't pass up such an opportunity, I told you." She laughed, then ate a piece of cake from his fork, wiping the corner of her mouth with thumb.

"Nevertheless, I raise an objection." He replied suddenly and Chichi's eyes widened in surprise. "What's a birthday party without dancing?"

"Where am I going to get you-"

But she didn't need to say anything more, as the manager was already playing romantic music from his phone. Ichi rolled her eyes with laughter, already took by Changbin more to the middle of the bridge so they would have more space. He put his hand on her waist and extended the other to the side, and she put one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. Swaying to the rhythm of the music went clumsily between them, but only for a while. They quickly found a common rhythm, gazing into each other's eyes, because after all, what was Paris compared to the mirror of a loved one's soul?

Hold my hand, promise me that everything will be fine. Hold me tight. Next to you, I dream still. Yes, yes, I intend to stay...* resounded from the phone's speaker.

Holding each other's hands, as if in fear of being separated, they were stuck dancing on the bridge. They were stuck in their safe bubble. They were stuck in the moment until the faint first rays of the rising sun greeted them.

* Love Song by Indila

#stray kids 9th member #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop oc #stray kids oc #idol oc #stray kids female oc #stray kids added member #stray kids addition #fake kpop member #idol!oc #idol!addition #skz imagines #skz drabbles #skz oneshots

[idolatrybarbie]

lover, be sweet masterlist

pairing: marcus pike x fem!reader

word count & rating: 1.8k | explicit - minor free zone!

summary: cuddles. guilt. the sensual caressing of plucked poultry. they don't make Pepto-Bismol for shame, do they?

warnings: references to and discussion of sex - hence the explicit rating, depression, loneliness, guilt & shame, angst, dissociation, citizen kane (1941) dir. orson welles, a few lighthearted moments but don't get your hopes up people, reader is described as slightly shorter than/the same height as marcus, very dramatic metaphors, very lightly edited, bea regresses to using writing as therapy again.

notes: hi - i am sad. this is a fic about me being sad. if you read it you might be able to figure out why i'm sad. i don't love creating from a place of sadness anymore but i am sick of talking about it to people that care about me and my girlfriend marcus pike is, like, right there. so this is me being sad. i am going to try to not write a fic like this again (sad for the fact that i am sad.) we'll see how successful that mission is. we out here.

It’s you who brings up the ‘M’ word. Well, two words: moving in. They come out of your mouth haphazardly one night. A long night of dinner and drinks with wonderful sex after.

It’s been six months. The question, what if me staying over was more…permanent? Marcus is silent for about thirty seconds before he simply kisses you, asking if he needs to start bringing boxes home from work. This is what makes you recoil emotionally, shaking your head as you say you’ve had too much wine. You fall asleep in his arms with your heart pounding and cold.

How are you supposed to tell Marcus that the last time you lived with someone you knew, it ended disastrously? Not just a shit roommate—lives ruined, emotional wounds that never quite healed. A friendship of almost a decade down the drain because the one person you trusted in the world couldn’t grow out of the role they’d locked themselves in. How do you tell him that your family only started treating you right when you moved hours away, that you need an allotted amount of time alone lest you turn into the worst person alive?

You’re over here three out of five nights of his work week. Marcus is the one person in the world you seem to never be able to get enough of. And yet you can’t help that lingering instinct, a stutter in your gut that births a brood of unwanted doubts and insecurities. You live alone. You like it like that. Liked it like that, maybe.

You’d like to move your dishes into the cabinet downstairs—the chipped set of Corelle that Marcus has eaten off of all but once, telling you the plates reminded him of the ones his mother had in Chile. You’d like to wake up with fresh underwear after showers with the man you love only a drawer pull away; his sheets to become your sheets, and yours his. Bender doesn’t like your couch as much as Marcus’ and you’ve been meaning to sell it anyway. 

There is a life that could be lived here. A future within these red walls. But you won’t risk it. You will not make that mistake again. Some things are not meant to be shared, and maybe this is one of them. Better to be in solitude half the time with him than isolated all the time without.

But all this stays in the background. Marcus doesn’t bring it up again, doesn’t push. Part of you assumes that he’s forgotten—he drank a lot of wine that night too. Or perhaps he assumes your life has had enough change for a little while. The new job and all that comes with it.

After months of unemployment and steadily weaning yourself off of babysitting other people’s pets, you’ve found one. It’s not much—the pay or the pleasure in doing it—but it is something. You wake up at seven o’clock to be ready for eight and out of the house by quarter past. The drive to D.C. is busy, an increasingly miserable twenty-seven minute commute that everyone on the road slogs through together.

Marcus is happy for you. He’s happy you leave the house for some other reason than to visit him, and he likes to hear about your work day. The people are fine, nice even, and you tell him that. Neither he nor they can stave off the low mood that takes hold of you with every coming cold season, but you try not to focus on that.

Marcus is aware, but he doesn’t bring it up beyond a simple question of how you’re feeling sometimes. He gets warmer as the world outside does the opposite, softening beyond what you thought possible. Your boyfriend is a sourdough starter, not that you’re complaining. The sex you have is sweet and slow. Lovemaking might be the only appropriate turn of phrase. He can’t seem to stop saying it—the ‘L’ word—every time he’s inside of you.

Your dreams are an odd combination of the Palace of Versailles and Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. A spotlight, a projector. The many versions of yourself, all of whom Marcus loves. The many versions of yourself, most of which you do not.

Mirrors. Lots of them. You’re grateful now when the shower steam makes the glass in Marcus’ bathroom sweat, sparing you from looking into another one. Being so walled off feels like lying to him. You can’t help it. Maybe it’s the intimacy of telling Marcus that’s getting to you. Might it be easier to stand at a pulpit and do a speech on how you feel? Direct. Factual even if the words aren’t confident.

Some Thursday night, three weeks after the ‘M’ word, you pull your car into the driveway beside your house…and sit. Headlights on, engine idle. Right now is the perfect time to freeze and stare out at the dust settled over the dashboard. You only move when knuckles rap on your window. Marcus, of course. His breath is as warm as his soul, fogging up the dirty glass.

You turn the car off, pulling the key from the ignition. He opens the door for you when you make a move to grab your bag.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is already laced with concern.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Marcus glances at the empty driver’s seat. “In the car…with the engine running?”

“Got home a few minutes ago,” you say. You don’t know how long it’s been.

Marcus senses your fragile footing, redirecting the conversation. “Do you want to come over tonight?”

“I don’t know,” you say. The words are highlighted by a puff of white past your lips. “Been a long day.”

“I’m making roast chicken,” Marcus says, trying to entice you. “We can lay on the couch. I’ll give you a foot massage.” When he sees you aren’t biting, he adds, “We can watch Pacific Rim. Again.”

You smile as the slightest bit of fire sparks in your chest. “You’ve got a deal.”

Marcus waits at the front door as you collect Bender from your living room. Then he leads the way across the street, unlocking his own door and letting you in first. The cat in your arms leaps gracefully away, ready to find a new spot to nuzzle into.

After a hot shower alone, you feel more like a person. No length of time spent under the water is going to get rid of the guilt masquerading as hunger pains, though. Marcus is already working on dinner when you make your way downstairs. His waist apron hangs over his hips, crimson to match everything else; a thoughtless purchase on your part except for the mental image of him wearing it with that adorably taut face he makes when focusing.

Seeing that exact expression now as Marcus rubs margarine over the plucked, pink body of a whole chicken makes you laugh a little. He looks up at you, hearing the noise, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You like what you see?” Marcus waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“The sensual caressing of dead poultry?”

He makes a face. “When you put it like that…”

“I speak the truth, the whole truth—”

“And nothing but the truth. You forget that you’re dating a man of the law, y’know.”

“How could I forget?” you ask, coming up behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you peer over the side of Marcus’ arm to watch him season the chicken with various spices on the counter. “You’re always here to protect me.”

“I’m glad you know that,” he says. “And I really mean always.”

Marcus can’t see the look of curious confusion that crosses your face. “Of course,” you mumble into his shoulder.

The chicken is placed on a baking pan lined with tinfoil before it disappears into the oven. Marcus washes his hands thoroughly, tossing everything into a sink of hot and soapy water before he finally embraces you. His hugs are a godsend. You melt into his arms and let yourself be held. Then, another twist of your organs. The feeling plagues you like heartburn, showing up at the worst of times. They don’t make Pepto-Bismol for shame, do they?

Marcus must feel you tense up, because he asks, “Alright. What’s wrong?”

Pulling back from the hug, he stares at you—the heat of a thousand carefully probing suns.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. Clearly he doesn’t buy it, taking in the way your eyes are starting to water like the Potomac.

“Well that’s just not true. Honey, please just… I want to help you.”

“I can’t move in with you,” you whisper. The first tear falls when you blink, a warm trail falling slowly down your cheek.

Marcus tilts his head. “What?”

“I can’t move in with you,” you repeat a little louder. “I’m not—I can’t.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “If you’re not ready—”

“It’s not about being ready,” you say, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s about…I don’t know. I love you. And that’s huge, and the last time I lived with someone I loved it ruined my life. I can’t do that with this. With us. I won’t.”

Marcus gently calls your name as you turn away from him, hands steady against the granite countertop. You can’t look at him. You’ve told the man you love that you can’t take the next step of further knitting your lives together. Of starting anew as a pair. There is no timeline to feed him. No amount of months given will tide him over because there's no expiry date on this feeling of yours. It simply is; there was a time before it existed, but you’re almost certain there will be no after.

That crawling specter of loneliness hasn’t haunted you for six whole months, and you would like to keep it that way. Even if the knowledge that you’re missing minute details about Marcus in your time across the street kills you the slightest bit; even if you want to show him that you’re all in on this, what your boyfriend doesn’t know is that you are a nuclear reactor. The disaster happened a long time ago, but the ground is still poisoned. The air is teeming with radiation even if he’s been slowly sipping the water.

You say, “I don’t know when I’m going to be ready.” Not now, if ever. Breaking your own goddamn heart.

“That’s okay,” Marcus says. “There’s no rush on it. You could take a million years. I’m still going to be here.” He takes you back into his arms, cradling your head against his body.

This doesn’t fix anything—doesn’t fix you, but you don’t want Marcus to do that anyway. For now, this works. Right now this is okay.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x you #*lover be sweet #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories

[breadvidence]

Another day, another adaptation: the 1982 French film, this round. The fact that every adaptation makes at least one lunatic choice really keeps my hyperfixation hyperfixating. Standout points:

This is the dirtiest Les Mis, and I don't mean because there's a nip slip. Streets, clothes, faces, interior walls of buildings: just about everything is dirty at best and caked in filth at worst.

Michel Bouquet's Javert has a parallel with Oyelowo's, which—shockingly—I don't mean as a critique (much): they are depicted as cleaning up their offices with the Paris police, Bouquet very literally (six months into his tenure, he drags his fingers across a painting in his office, streaking through thick dust; eight years later, he repeats the gesture, but this time to remove the barest fleck), and there's a definite career arc subplot for both. In BBC 2018 this is because the narrative thinks Javert is a badass; I'm less clear on what '82 is going for.

Lino Ventura has an interesting, craggy, wrinkly, mobile face, and he utilizes it thoroughly through Valjean's different iterations, from the slack and suffering convict to the dignity of Mayor Madeleine and somewhere in-between as Ultime Fauchelevent.

Award for most bombastic and cheerful Amis ever. The polycule energy is strong. Instead of OFPD, the entire line-up gets the firing squad treatment at once (bewildering and delightful, this sequence includes time pausing for everyone except Grantaire, who grabs a last drink and strolls over to the others, there to take his place for the final shot; someone gimme the fanfic in which he has time-based superpowers, please).

Instead of an intimate moment between her and Marius, Éponine's death includes the Amis standing in a semi-circle around the two of them. Marius proceeds not to grant her dying wish for a kiss. Awkward.

In a change which makes zero sense to me, Valjean survives an additional five years in this adaptation—but this ain't a fix-it fanfic. He severs ties with Cosette utterly the day of her wedding and lives in increasingly filthy solitude (this would not be '82 without filth). For extra pathos, in an irrelevant scene he's depicted collapsing in the street and being robbed. He dies alone, painfully, crying out for Cosette, having suffered a final vision of her and Marius frolicking down a lane (his horrified reaction to this, unlike everything else happening here, is certainly Brick-compliant). Catherine is present and possibly cursed?

Please, the final scene, dwell on it with me. It mirrors the first scene of the film: convicts in chains shuffle bare-footed through mud; one collapses; we see others labor to pull carts full of stone; Javert calls Valjean's name; we see Valjean pulling a cart alone;—in the first scene, Javert then says "You are free", but in the final, "Now you are free". Both are in their old-man wigs and makeup. We have been hit over the head with a point one can certainly derive from the novel, that Valjean's suffering ends only after death (or, in the case of '82, after a little purgatory). But! That it was all Toulon—awful. And that Javert is his final voice of salvation—weird, and AWFUL.

Interesting that '82 is so profoundly grim for Valjean despite clearly, from the Amis, having the capacity for cheerfulness. Not sure what to do with that!

Anyway, my favorite character in this adaptation is Combeferre's beard.

[eta] Forgot: there is the lead-up to the coffin heist and lead-up to Marius lobbing the "les cognes sont là" note into the room during the Gorbeau ambush, but the film does not actually include either of these events—I'd almost wonder if there's a missing scene somewhere for the former, but the latter is simply a dropped thread.

#les misérables 1982 #les misérables #les mis

[livingemkayde]

Twin Moons - Chapter Eight: The Resurgence

Series Summary: 

when you meet a Mandalorian on the sands of Tatooine, for some reason you both can't stay away. even through all the pain—you keep coming back to each other. it's all you know how to do.

Chapter Eight: The Resurgence

Notes: This update came quicker than expected I strapped into my flight and wrote most of it in one go lol!! But also it took so long, I'm really sorry. I was actually getting a lot of unexpected hate lol. Anyways, I’m gonna slow burn the fuck out of this story bc I live for the drama. I've taken creative liberties with the story revolving Nervarro. Thank you for all the recent love. As always, please enjoy. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive f!reader

Series warnings: *Although this chapter may not contain graphic content, this story is rated 18+ due to graphic depictions of violence and sexual scenarios.*

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual content. Graphic depictions of blood and knife wounds. Cursing, mentions of the club/cantina work/killing. 

Summary: 

“Who did this to you?” He says it low, almost like a growl. 

“No one, I just slipped and landed on something in my ship,” you reply coolly—trying to keep your stuttering to a minimum. 

You try to look down to the pain growing at your side but his hand keeps your jaw up to look at him.

Masterlist  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven

When he wakes you up, he tells you he has to leave. You understand—he has a bounty waiting for him in carbonite. 

You offer to walk him to his ship and he gives you a sharp nod in agreement. At first, you think you might've crossed some imaginary line between you but his hand comes to your lower back and when he begins to push you through the front door—a flush comes to your cheeks. 

You settle next to him on the short walk back to his ship. The sun is beginning to rise and peer down through the levels—you note how you slept so soundly in his arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and even though you want to grab his and intertwine your fingers—for some reason you still worry about rejection. 

You pull your hand away before he can think of anything else. 

When you arrive, you're met with silence as you turn to face him. 

“So…” you say, and gesture your head towards the Crest. 

“Yeah, uh—listen. I don't want you to think that this is like—something I do,” he says. His hand finds his hip and he looks down toward the ground. 

You stare in shock. Does he mean this was a one time thing? 

“I–um. Okay. Yeah…” you trail off, not sure what to say other than small mumbled words to hide your embarrassment. 

“I don't just…leave. I wish I could stay but the bounty and I…yeah,” he finalizes. 

Thank the maker. 

You flush as he says his words. A wave of relief hits you straight in the chest and you let out a breath you realize you've been holding this whole time. 

You think back to your place—his name on your lips—and how he told you after to only use it with him. You flushed at that—and told him your name in return. He had said it—the syllables sounding foreign on his tongue. 

You smile. Really smile. Maybe the first since you last saw him on Sorgan all those months ago. 

“Oh. No yeah—I-I get it,” you reply sweetly. 

“Will you be here when I come back to see you?” He asks. 

Your breath hitches. ‘When’ he comes back. Not ‘if’. 

“Yes,” you say a bit too quickly. “Or I'll be at the cantina.”

“Okay. That's–that's good.” The ramp of the Crest lowers and he makes a small step backwards. 

“When will you visit again?” Your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“I'm not sure. Make a week,” he says and takes another step back. 

You nod and smile in return. 

You suddenly feel weird. Should you hug him? Kiss his helmet? Shake his hand? You aren't sure. You clasp your hands behind your back and dig your fingernails into the skin there instead. 

“I'll be seeing you,” he says, and then he's gone. 

_ 

On your walk back to your place, you take the long way. 

You turn the corner, walking down a bustling road with some shopkeepers calling out to you. You give them a small smile in return and peruse through the aisles. 

The stalls sell a variety of different things from all over the galaxy—you feel the touch of silks, fruits, and oils through your bare hands. 

You avoid people’s eyes just like you always have. 

When you pass the cantina, you think of Davin. You think back to the night where you ended it and it makes your palm sweat a bit. 

He hadn't pleaded for his life like you expected. You think about his eyes—the look of them when you shot him. In the back of your head you know his forces aren't truly gone—just scattered to the wind. You don't think about him much, but admittedly, Din brought back some unpleasant memories from before your time in the upper levels. 

You pull your eyes past the bar and to the street in front of you. It's busy this morning, many citizens soliciting in the market areas. You pull your jacket around you and stuff your hands in your pockets. 

As you weave through the crowd to make your way back to your place, you feel slightly uneasy—like there are eyes all around you. You try to push it away and attribute it to your lack of sleep. 

As you try to slip through a particularly narrow space between bodies, you feel a grip on your arm. At first you think the person beside you is attempting to prevent your fall, but the grip tightens, stops you in your tracks, and you snap your head to meet the owner. 

A man—human—looks back at you. He has a hood over his head and a clean shaven face. 

But he has something dark about him. You felt it even before he put hands on you. When you attempt to break his grasp, you feel a small stab in your side, and look down. Your eyes are met with a small dagger’s point digging into your stomach m. 

He twists the knife handle slightly and you gasp. You don't try to move anymore. His hold on your arm tightens and you attempt to scan your surroundings for witnesses but he conceals the dagger between your bodies and no one bats an eye. 

You try to search his eyes in the hopes you’d recognize him or his motives. But you aren’t sure who he is—maybe a follower of Davin or something even worse. 

The dagger digs a bit deeper and you suck in a shallow breath—returning your eyes to his. 

“La’sara has been looking for you,” he says under his breath while meeting your eye. 

Holy fuck. 

Your heart drops at the name—at first your brows furrow, then widen slightly with surprise. 

La’sara. The fucking twi’lek bitch you worked with at the cantina. She worked closely with Davin—but you thought she had disappeared after you killed him. She didn't like you—well you don't really know that—all you know is you didn't like her. She felt like you two were competing for Davin’s attention even though you never wanted it in the first place. 

“Who?” You reply with a mocking tone—your eyes slightly rolling at his ambiguity. 

“She wants to see you. Don't play dumb bitch,” he says while sticking the dagger into your side more, it breaks the barrier of your skin with its final push. As you feel blood rush down your side, your eyes widen and your heart rate picks up. 

“She's back at the cantina?” 

“New place on 1056,” He says. Damn—you knew the cantina. She probably bought out the place with the credits leftover from Davin. 

“Tell her I'm not doing work anymore,” you continue when he doesn’t respond. The dagger slides into your side further and you try your hardest to prevent your face from contorting in pain. 

“She just wants to talk,” his neck extends like it's some kind of threat. “And she's not asking.” 

You stare back in silence. 

What a fucking joke. 

Fuck. 

_

“C’mon in,” the guard outside the cantina looks at the man behind you who is holding onto your shoulder with a strong grip. 

You agreed to go—not like you had much choice with a dagger slicing through your skin. 

La’sara was…she was strange to you. She was nice to your face, but you could tell there was animosity through her actions. You were surprised she was the one to surface first—even more surprised she sought to find you. 

You know this cantina but haven't been inside. You look around the dark room but it's mostly empty. Some patrons lean against the walls and bar. 

You assume she owns this place now. 

You're led to the back rooms past the bar and snake through narrow hallways to get to the main one. 

The doors open and she stands looking out the window behind her desk. She looks older—maybe more wise. You hope. 

“Ah! Birdie!” She says when she finally turns.  

The nickname sticks to your skin in an unpleasant way. It reminds you of everything. 

“You don't know how long I've been trying to find you,” she continues when you don't say anything. 

“Kinda the point La’sara,” you bite back. 

She looks down to your blood stained shirt and smirks a bit. 

“Need anything?” She gestures down to your stomach. 

“No. Thanks for that by the way,” you roll your eyes. “Just get to the point,” you continue. 

“Jeez. You're pleasant. So, I would offer you the job, but I'm not really asking, Birdie,” she sits down in the desk chair and spins around slowly while fiddling with her right lekku. 

“‘Sara I'm not working anymore,” you huff while rolling your eyes. Maker, she was the same as you remember—probably more annoying. 

She slams her hand down on her desk to stop spinning. 

“And I'm not fuckin’ asking,” she says back, cold. “You don't think I know about your little debt to D?” Your eyes widen. Fuck. Had he told her? 

“Honestly, I'm still shocked, Birdie. You kill the guy who saved your ass? You should be dead,” she says while laughing slightly. 

For some reason, that hurts. She hits a sore spot in your emotions that almost brings tears to your eyes, because she's right. You should be dead—the thought tightens your neck but you shove that feeling back down your throat. 

“'Sara. I'm not doing work anymore,” you try to stand your ground, but you feel yourself slipping after she confessed she knows you were a Jedi. 

“No,” she laughs again. “I wanted to talk. Let's talk. I've been trying to track down that fucking Mandalorian since you killed D. Fucking shiny head bitch–and no one can do it.” 

You stare back in silence. Fuck. Had that guy seen you and Din? 

“But I know you did it,” she continues. “You found him.” 

You think back to the cantina. It was bittersweet—before everything went to shit. 

“And I know he just left your place—don't ask, I had some intel on you and he just fuckin happened to be waltzing out of your door. It was like a dream come true.” 

“I'm not gonna kill him if that's what you're asking,” you cut her off—your cheeks flaring at the thought of her men seeing you and Din together—looking very domestic. 

“Good thing that's not what I need,” she says with a glint of amusement behind her eyes. 

“I need him alive. Get intel on him and whatever it is he's doing. A month. That's all I'm asking.” She looks more sympathetic now—but you still don't trust her. 

“A month Birdie. Then consider your ‘debt’ forgotten.” 

You search her eyes in the silence. She looks—genuine? You don't know why she wants Din alive let alone why she needs intel on him. You could always just feed her bullshit and when a month passes, disappear into the wind. 

Maybe you should. This debt you have would quit following you around like the plague.

But you feel like you can't. 

Din obviously trusts you. He just told you his name and said he wants to visit you again. 

But if you turn her down, she'll tell imperial remnants that you're ex-Jedi—maybe you, Din, and the kid will all be dead. 

Maker. She's good. 

You stare back at her, contemplating. She gives you a knowing look.

“He came out early this morning…” she says in a sort of sing-song way—more mocking you than anything. “I'm sure you'll enjoy your time.”

“Maker,” you scoff and wave your hand to summon the materials for the recon—she smiles. 

She places a comm on the table and a couple hundred credits. 

You take them quickly and leave without meeting her eye. 

_

When you get back to your place, you try to pack up as quickly as possible.  

How could you have been so stupid? 

You scold yourself for being so naive—even more so for leaving so many loose ends. But you remember how you felt afterwards. You just wanted to be done with it. You wonder if anyone else is still looking for you—or if another one of those scary guys is coming to tell you it's time to leave. 

Fuck. You shake your head as you rush to push clothes into your pack. You move towards your medicine cabinet—in search of some bacta for your bloody wound. 

You quickly slap a bacta patch over the dagger wound and make your way to the kitchen. As you pass the front door, grabbing things on the counter—a knock sounds through your small space. 

Maker. That was fast. 

You deactivate the automatic sliding door and look through the side window. 

Leo. 

You let out a breath and open the door. You continue back to your room to pick up spare belongings from the floor. 

“Hey—uh…can I come in?” He stands cautiously by the doorframe. 

“Yeah…yeah,” you say while not meeting his eye. You make your way towards the bathroom to grab some toiletries. 

“I just wanted to talk about last night…are you going somewhere?” He stops at the table in the middle of the room, placing his fingertips on the edge of it. 

“Oh. Uh yeah, little impromptu vacation. Don't worry about it,” you mumble the last part, hoping he'll just brush it off and talk about last night. 

“Where are you going?” He starts to follow you around the room, but you don't meet his eye. Maker, this guy won't take a hint. 

“Oh—you know,” you say chuckling, ducking under his gaze to reach something in your closet. “You were saying? Last night?” You continue. 

“Oh,” he shakes his head, “right. So is everything like…okay with us? I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah—everything's great.” 

“Okay. Were you alright last night? After I left?” 

“After you left? Sure. I just went to bed,” you try to continue packing but your mind races.

Does he know about Din? 

“Okay…” he trails off, looking down at his feet, nodding slightly. You slow down your packing—coming to look at him from across the room.

“Okay…”  you mimic his words, “Everything good Leo?” You look at him with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Jay said he saw you walk down to the ships with a Mandalorian. Early. This morning.” He says it slowly like he's trying to get the information to ring a bell. 

Maker. Fuck you, Jay. Was everyone in the galaxy outside your door seeing you with Din? Early? This morning? 

“Uh—” you say but can't find the words to continue. You technically didn't lie to him. You did sleep after Leo left—just in Din’s arms.

“‘Uh’ what? It's the same one from the opera? Isn't it?” He looks at you, hurt. 

“Y-yeah. I guess,” you try to continue but he cuts you off. 

“You guess? You aren't sure?” He raises his voice slightly. 

“No I-I'm sure. It was him.” You throw your bag on your bed—defeated. 

“He's no one? Right? That's what you said to me.” He looks at you, waiting for a response. When you don't answer he continues. “He fuck you?” 

Your jaw tightens at his crude language, but you can't help but find a slight humor in this situation. Din asked you the same thing but about Leo last night. 

“Leo what the fuck? I—n-no. What are y—” 

“You left your place early this morning with him,” he says in response. 

“I-okay. Yes. I did,” you decide not to follow with much else. 

“And?”

“And what?” You roll your eyes. 

“Fuck man cmon! Who is this guy?” 

“What's it to you Leo?” You shout.

“Mandalorians are dangerous. I'm just looking out for you.” He says—stern. 

“He's not—he would never hurt me.” You mumble. 

“So you know him well,” he bites back.

“Maker, yes! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? He saw me at the Opera and followed me back here. We talked for a bit—I walked him to his ship.” 

Silence follows as you stare at each other. You gulp a bit at your lies. 

“So you're leaving to be with him?” He cocks his head and nods slightly—like he's trying to make sense of it all. 

“No,” you reply dumbly. You aren't. It's the truth. 

“But you're going to see him?” He asks. 

Yes. 

“I–it's complicated Leo,” you pick your bag up again—an indication he should leave. You stare in silence for a while. His eyes search your white ones for a single indication of anything. 

“When will you be back?” He says quietly. 

“I don't know,” you say back while meeting his eyes. 

He approaches you, his hand comes up and staggers by your face. He places a quick peck to your forehead. You expect him to shout or yell. He's angry—you don't know if he has the right to be. 

But he's also hurt. Your heart twists in your chest for him. You feel guilty, but you have to get to Nevarro. 

“You want to go? He’s—he’s not forcing you or something.” 

“No, Leo. He’s a good guy. It’ll be okay. I promise.” 

“Be safe.” He mumbles. 

“I will.” 

Another lie. 

_

You have no idea what you’re doing. 

Honestly. 

There’s no plan, nothing you have to do first. 

You set the lift off controls and rub your hands across your face. 

You don’t even know if he’ll be on the planet. It’s a lucky guess from when he told you he worked out of Nevarro back on Sorgan. 

You spin in the pilot's chair of your ship and stare at your belongings on the floor. Breaths puff in and out of your chest. You close your eyes and pinch the skin of your nose bridge. 

You have no idea what you’re doing. 

You've never worked reconnaissance for Davin, just killing and some bounty work. 

You pray your bullshit intel will be enough to keep La’sara off your back for a month. But you don't know what you're gonna tell Din. 

Showing up to his planet after what happened at your place? Desperate is the only word that comes to mind—and you don't want to seem desperate. 

Maker. You sound like a teen girl over this guy. 

You pray he'll be there. You don't know if you're hoping because you want to see him again or because of La’sara. Both possibilities make your head throb.

You set the autopilot and make your way to your bunk. You shut off all the lights—your eyes are tired from the stress of the last few days. 

You close your eyes and surprisingly, don't dream about anything. 

_

Nevarro is… pretty? 

The planet looks different from the last time you visited. A lot has changed. People look happy, content. You walk through the small town, passing by a building which looks like the cantina, but when you try to peak in—you see a classroom. Weird. 

Your stab wound is beginning to hurt. The bacta patches you had back at your place weren't high quality. All it did was numb the area—you can feel the blood leaking through the bandage. 

You stalk towards the small courtyard in the middle, looking up at the larger building in front of you. You see a small hut with a muscular looking woman talking to a man who looks important—dressed in some robes. 

You stalk over quietly while weaving through crowds. 

As you approach the pair, their conversation falters. The woman looks at you. 

“Hey. Sorry for interrupting, I just had a quick question,” you say. 

“Shoot,” the woman says. 

“Is there by any chance a Mandalorian that comes through here?” 

“You talking about Mando?” The older gentleman says—budding into your conversation. 

“Uh—yeah. I guess,” your cheeks flush when you remember him noting that you didn't want to call him Mando when his hands were up your—

Nevermind. 

“Didn't know Mando had friends. Let alone a girl, huh Karga?” The woman laughs and nudges the man beside her. 

Karga. You note. 

“How do you know Mando?” He asks in return while smiling. 

“Work. Yeah. We cross paths in work,” you nod shyly. It seems like these two know him well. 

You aren't sure how to feel about that. You knew he had a life outside of you and the kid, but it never occurred to you he would have friends. People to come back to—people who might know him better than you. 

Maker. You're losing it. 

“Huh,” the woman notes while looking you up and down. “Well I think he's in the ship docking area, but he’s leaving soon. Just came to get some repairs,” she continues, nodding her head towards the edge of town. 

“Oh okay. Thanks. Nice meeting you both,” you say while waving goodbye. You can feel their gaze follow you as you make your way down the street. You might've heard a small whisper about your eyes, but you're used to it. 

When you finally reach the shipyard, you see the crest but no Din. You scan the horizon as you quickly make your way over. A mechanic stands to the side of it, working through something on his data pad. 

“Mando in there?” You say, the nickname sounding wrong from your mouth—but you guess that's what everyone calls him around here. 

“Inside,” he mumbles without looking up. 

You scoff and slowly make your way into the open hull. You don't see any movement while you scan the hull but you can hear banging from the cockpit. The ladder looks at you from across the space. 

Your feet don't move when your brain tells them to shuffle forward. You're scared. This is more personal than you thought possible—showing up on his planet, entering his ship—climbing up to his cockpit without warning. 

This feels more personal than when he had his hand up your dress. You feel so nervous you might throw up. 

You force your feet to move toward the ladder. It looks at you and when you touch it, all the memories of Din's hands ring from the metal material into your skin. It makes your skin flush despite its cold temperature. 

You take the ladder one step at a time—the clanging and sound of movement getting louder with each rung. You're quiet but maybe you shouldn't be. Maybe you should bang something so he knows someone is coming. But maybe he would shoot you dead in an instant at the sound. 

You don't know why you're so nervous. Maybe it's because you're finally getting a glimpse inside the life of a man who's seen plenty of yours. But maybe it's because you aren't sure how he'll react when he sees you. The thought of rejection echoes in your heart and you almost fall off the ladder because your palms start to sweat. 

When you reach the top, you can see the sliding door to the cockpit. It's closed, the heavy metal looks impervious to your white eyes. You can hear the shuffling of boots coming from inside. Your heart skips a beat.

On second thought, this might not be the best idea. 

You stalk forward quietly, and the steps from inside stop. You're met with silence and you also stop moving for some reason—you don't know why you're trying to make it seem like no one is there. 

You continue toward it, doing your best to be silent. You reach the doors and stop walking right before it will automatically slide open from your motion. You stare at the metal. 

Why is this so hard? Why are you trying to make it seem like you're not there? Why are you nervous? Why did he—

Before you can think of another reason why, the doors slide open and you're met with a black T. 

He steps forward, then falters when he sees you. You can see his hand reach for his blaster, but freezes when his helmet meets your eyes. 

You unintentionally gasp. He remains still. 

It feels like the silence goes on forever. Your feet planted in a position like you were attempting to take a step forward, his hand hovering over his blaster. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I can explain!” 

You both say at the same time. Your eyes widen at his voice. Maker. It's always nice to hear it after being apart—no matter how long. Your hands come up in a ‘I mean no harm’ kind of gesture. You find yourself doing that a lot around him. 

“Din. I'm sorry—I don't have your number or anything—I just uh—” Fuck. You don't know what to say. You came all this way—traveled through space to get here—and you didn't think of an excuse as to why you needed to see him. 

His head cocks to the side. You feel like he's mocking you. 

“I just…” you try to continue. 

You are so fucked. 

“You just?” He asks, his hand which was once hovering over his blaster finds purchase on his hip. 

“I—” 

Maker. 

You try to think of anything. Some sort of excuse or reason—but what comes out is worse than lying. 

“I missed you.” 

You are so fucking stupid and so royally fucked. 

Desperate. You didn't want to seem desperate and here you are—confessing you traveled halfway across the galaxy to find him because you ‘missed him.’ 

You need to get a grip. 

You're so lost in your own thoughts you barely hear his light chuckle peel through his modulator. 

“You missed me?” He asks, cocky. 

“Yeah. I guess.” You reply shyly, breaking eye contact with his visor and looking down to the ground. Your arms drop to the side and your fingertips play with the hem of your jacket. 

“You guess?” His tone is lighthearted but you can't help but feel embarrassed. You need to stop saying 'I guess’ because all the men in your life seem to enjoy throwing it back in your face. 

“I—no. I missed you,” you reply with a small voice. 

It's true. That's why you're so embarrassed. Even through all of La’sara’s shit you found time to miss him. 

He stalks towards you, his hand coming to your throat—you freeze. His hand wraps around your neck and his fingers push your face to look up at him. 

“You came all this way because you missed me?” His voice sounds deep and gravelly through his modulation. 

“I—” maker you are so stupid. “Yeah,” you breathe out finally. 

He makes a small hm sound followed by silence as he looks over your face. He takes a half step back to look at your body. He sees the blood seeping through your fresh shirt from the dagger wound and tilts his head to the side so he can see it clearly. 

His free hand pushes your jacket open and slowly begins to lift your shit with his pointer finger. His hand on your throat remains solid so you can't squirm under his gaze, or the feeling of his hands dragging across your stomach. 

“What happened?” He says quietly. 

“Nothing—I fell,” you reply dumbly, entranced by his helmet and the way it shines in the soft lighting. It seems as if all rational thought exits your brain when you're around him—the lie sounding stupid coming from your trembling lips. 

“You fell,” he echoes. 

You try to nod but his solid grasp over your neck settles your movements to a slight dip of your chin. 

He drops your shirt and straightens your jacket—the same hand comes to ghost over your breast and you sigh softly. He drops it to his side in the next beat. 

“Who did this to you?” He says it low, almost like a growl. 

“No one, I just slipped and landed on something in my ship,” you reply coolly—trying to keep your stuttering to a minimum. 

You try to look down to the pain growing at your side but his hand keeps your jaw up to look at him. You both know you're lying—but thankfully he doesn't pry. Din does note how you flushed at his words though. 

“Go downstairs. I'll help you take care of it,” he finally says and drops your face from his hold. 

He studies your eyes, then surprisingly, slides the same hand down to meet yours, squeezing it. 

He turns his back towards you to finish fiddling with something on the control panel in the cockpit. You stand—stunned—watching the back of his helmet as he moves through the small space. 

You're suddenly aware of your breath and you're panting. The proximity becomes all too much as you watch his cape flow with each step. 

You quickly make your way down to the hull, skipping the last rung on the ladder due to habit. When you drop down, forgetting about your wound momentarily, you wince. 

“Can I use your fresher?” You call out to him and only get a muffled grunt in response. 

As you close the door to the fresher, the small space makes you feel claustrophobic. You immediately remove your jacket and your face contorted in pain when you stretch your stomach. 

You lift your shirt enough to see it in the mirror. It looks nasty, the blood seeping out of the sides of the bacta patch. You look down towards the sink to turn on the water and rinse the area when something catches your eye. 

A small razor and toothbrush sits on the side of the sink. It slaps you across the face. Sometimes you forget he's human. 

What's even worse is the brown stubble that scatters across the blade and onto the sink.  

Your eyes widen. It feels like you've just seen his face—the knowledge of his brown hair makes your heart flutter and you forget all about the pain at your side. It feels taboo, wrong even. 

You quickly abandon your plans of aiding your wound and slide back through your jacket quickly. You step out of the fresher and close the door behind you. 

When you turn towards the hull, he's there, shuffling through a small crate, some gauze and tubes of medicine are pushed up and threaten to spill over. 

He turns his head at the sound of the door closing, he looks at you over his shoulder, then motions his head to a crate on the floor. 

You sit, slowly, the realization of how bad your wound is, starting to set in again. 

“Take this off,” he motions to your jacket. You undress quickly. 

“Can you hold this up for me?” He asks while pinching your shirt slightly. You nod, and follow his visor as he kneels in front of you. He gets close—so close you can see your reflection in his helmet and your heavy breaths almost fog his visor. 

You pull your sticky shirt from your side and hold it up with your other hand. You look into the black expanse of his visor, but it's trained on your stomach. 

“Let me know if this hurts,” he says while beginning to take off the patch. 

You only nod in response, too entranced by his head so close to yours—your mind drifts to the hair in the fresher. 

Brown—maybe black. Human hair. 

His hands were tan. 

You try not to think of anything further, the thought of picturing his face and the image being wrong would do his beauty injustice. 

“You wanna tell me what's going on?”  he asks while working on your wound. 

It snaps you out of it—your cheeks flushing. 

“Yeah…sorry I didn't give you a heads up,” you mumble under bated breath. “I just—I remember you told me you worked out of Nevarro.” 

“So you just came to visit?” He questions further. 

A sting hits your side and you wince. His hand comes up to rest on your thigh and mutters a small sorry.

“Yeah,” you say while trying to hide your embarrassment. He finishes cleaning your wound and slaps a fresh looking patch on your side. He pulls your shirt down from beneath your hand. 

“No other reason?” He asks with an amusing grin playing with his words behind the mask. 

You playfully slap his arm and he dips his head, laughing. You like the sound of it. Rich and inviting. You don't recall ever making him laugh. 

“I met your friends in town,” you say, trying to change the subject. 

“Who?” He replies. 

“Dunno. Someone named Karga, and a woman.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Karga is the magistrate here. He worked with the guild.” 

“Hm.” 

Some silence. 

“And the woman?” Your curiosity gets the better of your actions. 

“Jealous?” He quips back. You smile. 

“No. Just curious. I don't know anyone you know. I barely know anything about you.” You say while placing your head in your hand—bringing your faces closer. 

“She helped me out when we lost the kid. And back on Sorgan when I was looking for Jedi.” 

“She seems nice.” 

He hums in response. 

“You do know things about me. And now you know people I know.” 

“Barely,” you bite back, playfully. 

“You wanna know me?” His tone drops to something a bit more serious. 

You find yourself nodding. 

“Ask me anything and I'll answer,” he says, his hand on your thigh rubbing slowly. 

“Favorite color?” 

“Green.” 

“How old are you?” 

“I dunno. Maybe 40.” 

“Geez. Old man.” 

His helmet tilts and you blush as you hide your face. 

“Favorite food?” 

“Stew.” 

You scrunch your face in response. 

“Boring.” 

“Cmon it's good—versatile,” he chuckles. 

“Home planet? 

“Aq Vetina.” 

Kriff. 

Some silence settles between you. 

“I'm sorry.” 

“It's not your fault.” 

He stands suddenly, packing up all the medical supplies he brought out for you. Your side is feeling better—less pain. 

You watch as he puts the materials away. He stacks the crates and hauls them over to the side of the hull. You watch as his muscles strain against the material of his flight suit. 

He grabs an empty one and comes to sit in front of you. 

“Do you miss Sorgan?” You ask him when he settles. 

“Sometimes. Do you?” 

“Yeah,” you reply while closing your eyes. You settle at that, content with your questioning. His gaze makes you shift in your seat and push your thighs together. 

“I missed you more.” 

Your eyes snap open at his words. He sits, hunched over his legs, his hands are joined together. 

You smile. And you almost feel like he's smiling back. 

“Do you have a place here?” 

“No, Karga offered me one but I don't stick around much.” 

“Have you seen the kid recently?” 

“Tried. Ahsoka said…it just didn't work out.” 

Damn.

If she didn't let him see Grogu it might be a good thing. He's probably progressing well with Luke. But you note how sad Din sounds when he talks about it. 

Ahsoka had mentioned something to you about looking for other force sensitive kids and you turned her down—but maybe it could be something you and Din do together. 

You stand when his head falls to look between his legs. When you take a tentative step forward his helmet snaps up to look at you. His hands unclasp and settle on the outside of his open thighs. 

You move forward—scared. He remains still. 

“I should be going soon,” you say while taking another slow step towards him. 

“So soon?” He asks, straightening his back. 

You shrug and give him a half smile in response. 

Ask me to stay.

He reaches his hand out to yours—you take it. It feels warm and the leather is soft and velvety in your bare ones. 

He pulls you forward, so you're slotted in between his thighs, caged in. His helmet comes to rest on your tummy, just below your breastbone. 

You place your hands on his shoulders and knead the taut muscles there. He groans in response. His hands come to your hips, digging in with his thumbs so hard it might leave bruises. You can hear his breathing and feel his rigid body as your breath picks up. 

Ask me to stay. 

You continue your movements up his neck, massaging his skin which lies under the fabric of his cape. His hands go around to grab your ass and rub up and down against the backs of your thighs. You sigh softly while bringing your lips to touch the top of his helmet. 

Ask me to stay. 

He picks his head up at that, and looks at you from his seated position. You give him a soft smile and he pulls one leg over his and your body down into his open lap.

You can feel him. 

Ask me to stay. 

“Will you stay? For a bit?” 

You let out a soft sigh of relief and nod your head yes. 

_

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added!!

@iammissdoddydoodagrimes @dinwifey @n7cje @sasakipsposts @againstheodds @showmeyourteeth @leithatnight @r02eg0ld

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x f!reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando x you #mandalorian x you #mando x oc #mando x original female character #mando x y/n #din djarin x original female character #force sensitive reader #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine

[compassionatereminders]

It's half past eight and I'm thinking about nothing in particular. I'm working on a quilt that is also kind of a weighted blanket? Except not really, it just turns out that if you stuff a lot of cut up fabric between two layers of fabric that will increase the weight even without little metal balls?

And I like it very much! It's comforting.

And I'm using my grandpa's old cut up shirts for it. (But not like tshirts the ones with buttons and pockets? That you can wear over tshirts, which I do all the time)

If it's in my grandma's scrap drawer and not already cut up? Oh they're not going on the quilt they're going on me because I'm like. They're comfortable, they have pockets and I'm a lesbian.

Why waste a shirt? Even if it's a little frayed.

But sometimes they're already cut up or really really too frayed. And then I steal them for my quilt instead

I started my first patchwork blanket in 2019 when I thought I was about to move out. I wanted to take something with me that I could use to make any new place instantly have a little bit of personality.

Sometimes I wonder if this is how all of the ladies who did crossstitch and embroidery while waiting for someone to marry felt. Is that weird? Did they want to give their new homes a touch of themselves too?

Anyways it's 2024 now, I'm done with my blanket and started on a second one and I'm still living in my childhood home.

Or well again anyway. I tried to leave. But then....COVID. I lasted for six months and it was six absolutely miserable months.

It took me a while to even think again about moving out but I can't stay here forever.

Or well I could. But. I don't want to, in the end.

Anyways. I'm gonna get back to working on my quilt. That's good to keep the thoughts about the future at bay.

I hope you have a lovely day!

-Claire

P.S: wanna see a quilt photo?

Please show me your quilt! A quilt is such an amazing project. I'm in awe of people who actually manage to make one, and I especially love that you're making it from grandpa's old shirts ❤️

#chat with kat #kat plays games

[unrequitedloveletter]

The Axiom of Equality- T.S x gn! reader

all right! I don't know if there's much of an audience for tommy shelby fics here but I'm going to write this anyway because I've been daydreaming about it virtually daily since the idea first came up and if I don't get this out of my head I might just cry a little bit

Fic type- this is post-war hurt/comfort!!

Warnings- the war and being drafted into it are mentioned a fair amount

Dear Tommy,

This letter won't be the best thing to return to after the war, but it's what I need to do and I need in turn for you understand that. I know that you probably won't but I am asking you to and I have to believe that such is enough.

I probably won't be in Birmingham upon your return. You've been gone for six months now, and I miss you everyday, Tommy, but I just can't stay here.

Every time I walk through Birmingham, it feels as though you are all I am capable of seeing. It is inescapable and I am in dire need of an escape plan.

I love you, Tommy, and I have stood by your side throughout the course of our entire lives, but I just cannot do this anymore. Find me when you're home--Ada will know an address, but so too will Polly, and I guarantee I will want your company at some point. Even now, I yearn for your presence.

All the love in the world and the deepest apologies to accompany that,

Y/N

-

Tommy had read and reread the letter since Ada had given it to him when he returned from the war. He'd not yet asked her for the address, even a year after his return because all he could do was mull it over.

He kept thinking about you and about the fact that you'd left, how much he'd missed you and the reluctancy with which he approached the acknowledgement of that.

There was to be no denying it, though. He couldn't deny he'd missed you simply because he had. At the mention of your name, the remembrance of any singular part of you, Thomas Shelbys heart shattered, and he was left scrambling to put it back together and remain composed for the sake of keeping his family from shattering as he had.

Eventually, sometime in autumn of 1920, he found himself searching for Ada. He'd heard from Arthur that she was at the Garrison with Freddie Thorne and when he found her, she met his gaze and she grinned like she knew why he'd come looking, let alone at eight on a random weeknight.

"Let me guess," she said. "You want an address? Particularly to a neat little flat just a thirty minute walk away from the Eiffel Tower?"

Tommy gave a rather impatient nod in spite of himself--so much time had passed since he'd left for the war and you'd left Birmingham to escape him. All he'd been able to think about since he returned had been you, and he doubted you'd found yourself in a similar predicament, but he still hoped.

"I am indeed," Tommy said. Ada laughed.

"You two were together how long, exactly? Five years, six?"

"Eight," Tommy said. "From October 31st, 1906 to the day I left for the war."

"And you love them wholeheartedly?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Tommy said, running a hand through his hair. "Give me the address, Ada. Please--I've started to worry I'll go mad if you don't."

Ada grinned. "Yeah. Freddies got it on a slip of paper in his wallet."

Freddie took the slip of paper out of his wallet and passed it to Tommy, giving him a grin.

"They might be gone," Ada cautioned. "Maybe they remembered 'oh, yes! I fell in love with a criminal and left him in 1914. Don't want that life, so I'll leave him behind, move somewhere nice like...Canada, perhaps.'"

"I know," Tommy said. Ada could've been right, and you could've been gone, and Tommy could never have hoped to see you again, but the twenty-four year old who had helplessly loved you and couldn't wait to see you upon his return from the war had taken hold of his heart, and it was reaching out to yours, and there was nothing to be done other than to go. "But you've gotta understand, Ada. You, of all people."

"I do," she said. "Now, I'm sure you can buy a train ticket and make it to Paris in time to see them. Go."

And, in spite of himself and with the address from Freddie tucked into his palm, Tommy Shelby ran out of the Garrison like the eighteen year old boy who had spotted you approaching from the window and had felt his heart set itself alight with the joy he oh-so-rarely experienced.

Thomas Shelby was thirty, though. He was not the eighteen year old he had once been and you were not the eighteen year old who you had once been. Things had changed, and no matter for the giddy feeling in his heart that made Tommy feel like the boy he had once been, he was not that boy anymore. If you wanted to be left to your own, Tommy would respect that of you. If you had moved on, Tommy would respect that. He was not the person he had been before the war, and you weren't, either.

But still, Tommy went home. He packed as efficiently as possible, kissed Pollys cheek in goodbye and told Arthur to keep himself in check as he headed for the train station, his feet, his heart, and his mind dragging him on an impulsive trip to France.

-

The trip from Birmingham to Paris was a lot less difficult than Tommy had expected. Seven and a half hours on the train where Tommy read and made sure that his French sounded even slightly passable, and Tommy was at the train station in the heart of Paris for half past three in the morning.

The next hour was spent trying to locate a decent hotel to stay in for the week or so he'd planned to stay, and when he found one it was nearing five in the morning. He collapsed onto what turned out to be a bed that was almost decent but still a little off, and woke up at noon.

He showered to avoid smelling like cigarettes even though the smell of tobacco had never really bothered you and he knew he'd end up smoking one anyway, and then he was off to the address he'd been given at just after two.

What he found was not a flat. It was nothing of the sort--it was a quaint home by lakeside and one that was definitely a bit longer than a 30 minute walk away from the ever so infamous Eiffel Tower.

It was exactly the kind of home you'd described wanting to live in before Tommy left, exactly the kind of thing that you would've felt the most at home in from the outside. The acknowledgement of such made Tommys heart swell.

He was a very, very different person in 1920 than he had been before leaving for the war in 1914. He couldn't help but wonder just how much of a difference it would've made to you, the person who had once vowed to love him for the rest of your life, for the rest of his.

It gave him pause, made him hesitate as he walked up the front steps to your home and stopped him before he could knock on your front door.

What if you had remained unchanged and Tommy had done a full 180? What if you hated the person he'd become? There were too many variables, and, had he thought over it for more than approximately eleven seconds, Tommy would've done it all so differently.

He never lead with his impulse.

He never made rash decisions, not when it came to you.

But he supposed he could allow himself one rash decision a decade, and deciding to go to France on nothing more than a written address and a whim was definitely rash and impulsive enough to last him through to the 30s.

He approached your door. Knocked once, twice, a third and final time for the sake of politeness.

"Esmeralda? Is that you?" Your voice called. "I wasn't expecting you with the tea leaves until Sunday! Come in!"

Tommy didn't respond, only rested a hand on the doorknob, a rare surge of fear grabbing hold of his chest. It had been two years since he'd gone back to Birmingham. Six years since you'd last seen each other, with not a moment of contact through letter writing to bridge that gap. How much would you want to see him, really, if you wanted to see him at all?

"I'm going back to Birmingham this week! Esmeralda, darling, if thats you, please bring the tea in! Polly wrote that she wanted some and I figure I'll see her before I find Tommy. She'll be furious with me if I don't have them after I've promised to bring them along."

Tommy opened the door just a bit. It was unlocked--had you been expecting visitors?

"Esmeralda?" You asked for a third time. "Esmeralda Monroe, I don't care that you're in your eighties now, if you're playing a trick on me--" Tommy stepped into the house, tried to find even the slightest hint you were there outside of your voice.

The house was nice. It opened from a foyer into a lounge, one with a seemingly comfortable couch and a working fireplace. Through a small doorway, he caught your frame in what must've been the kitchen.

"My name isn't Esmeralda Monroe, but I would pity her if she were here," Tommy said. "What's this mess about you comin' down to Birmingham?"

"Come into the kitchen," you said. "I am unwilling to abandon my bread to see your face. Perfecting this recipe has taken Esmeralda and I weeks. She's eighty-six, so that time is precious time indeed."

Tommy gave a low laugh as he took off his coat and his hat, hanging them both on the coat rack to the right of the door. He walked through the lounge and into the kitchen, grinning the moment he saw your face.

"Hello," Tommy said. "Been a bit, hasn't it?"

You glanced up from the dough that had held your focus. "Quite a long time. I'm sorry I didn't go to Birmingham sooner--I wanted to the moment Ada wrote and said you were still alive, but I didn't. I couldn't get the time away from work, though I nearly did quit on the spot when I was refused."

"You would've come back sooner?" Tommy asked. "I came down here to tell you I'm sorry that you had to leave at all."

"It wasn't your fault," you said. "I was yearning terribly and I made a cataclysmic mistake. I would do it over if I could. I would've gone round to the Shelby home and asked Pol to talk a bit of sense into me."

Tommy laughed. "I'm apt to think she would've told you to go," he said. "Always did say I didn't deserve you or your love for french pastry."

You laughed, flouring the clean countertop in front of you and laying your dough on it so that it could be kneaded. "She might've, but I dunno that I would've listened. If I'd stayed, we could've resumed things. There wouldn't be a six year gap between our departure and our reunion."

"We wouldn't've become different people," Tommy said.

"The war would've changed you, Tommy. Seems like it did as is," you said. "But I don't fault you for that. Fighting in the war changes people--I've gotten to know a couple of people who were nurses. They don't seem right either."

"And you don't--the fact that I may have changed leaves you undeterred?"

"There's an axiom that Esmeralda introduced me to," you said. "The axiom of equality. It's a mathematical principle but I like it better as a statement."

"What is it?" Tommy asked. He'd not been much of a math person, and while he had no doubt that someone like Polly would've known what it was, he hadn't a clue. "I've been too busy legitimizing stuff back home to read up on mathematical principles and ideas."

"The axiom of equality states that x=x," you said. Tommy, in a bit of a mood to help, located a cabinet with a bread pan as you talked. "It states that x must always equal x. Esmeralda told me that the principle of the principle, when applied to people, is that the person you were in the past will always be the person you are in the present."

"Are you insulting me?" Tommy asked, grabbing the crisco shortening from the spot you kept it in the pantry. "I'm feeling rather insulted."

"That is, in fact, not my goal," you said. "If I were insulting you, I would doing so with an air of flirt in the hopes of winning a kiss. You still probably taste like tobacco, but I've never minded that."

Tommy greased the bread pan, shaking his head. If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask.

"The point of bringing up the axiom was just to tell you that it doesn't apply to everyone," you said. "We're human, Tommy. We're not a variable in mathematics, and as such, I'm pretty sure I would be able to learn how to love you if you came back someone completely and utterly changed."

"I have," Tommy said. "I am not the person I was in 1914."

"I'm not the person I was then, either," you said. "I've changed, even if it doesn't look it. I know I still look twenty four."

"Twenty six, at best."

"Thomas Shelby!" You shouted, placing the bread into the bread pan and grabbing a kitchen towel. Tommy dodged it as you thwacked it at him, laughing at the whole ordeal of the thing.

"I look a minimum of thirty-one, so you're better off than I," Tommy said. "And even as such, you're still the looker I fell in love with."

"Oh, if Ada were here, she'd have taken your head!" You laughed, and Tommy laughed, and oh, Tommy had never thought he'd have gotten so lucky as to heard the sound of your laugh again. "I would've watched--you are a real prick, Tommy!"

"A prick with whom you were once deeply in love," Tommy said. "One who you once kissed under a willow tree, and drank with, and sang with, and--"

You laughed, pressed your forehead against his shoulder. "I've missed you, Tommy."

"I've missed you more," Tommy said.

"How long are you to stay?" You asked.

"A week," Tommy said. "We can travel back to Birmingham together, if that sounds like an idea you fancy?"

You lifted your forehead from his shoulder. "That sounds wonderful," you said. "I'd really, really like that."

"Would you ever consider moving back?" Tommy asked. "I'm not asking you to if you don't want to, but if you'd consider..."

"If I were proposed to by a certain Birmingham native, I might consider it," you said. "Of course, this Birmingham native would have to fit six years of flirtations and kisses and casual signs of affection into just a week if such was his goal."

Tommy laughed. "I think he could manage that," he said. "Especially considering that he has a ring already--he bought it six months before he was drafted."

Your mouth opened in shock. "You were going to propose?"

"The plan was to do so the week I was drafted--sunset, perfect look out spot, everything was going to be amazing--but then I was drafted and proposing seemed to null itself out a little."

"You were going to propose and I left you in the dust? I am the worlds worst partner."

Tommy shook his head. "There are worse people," he said. "People who cheat on their spouses, namely. You only left because you missed me and it was so intense you couldn't handle the pain."

"When you put it that way, it sounds rather romantic," you said. "Less like one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made."

Tommy laughed, and he took your hand, and all he could think was that he was glad for the impulsiveness in his heart that'd dragged him onto a train for seven and a half hours, a shoddy hotel room for seven hours, and an additional hour spent trying to get rid of the scent of tobacco, chewing mint gum to rid it from his breath.

Tommy leaned in, and your arms found his shoulders as his found your waist. You closed the gap, and Tommy was kissing you for the first time in six years. He was kissing you for the first time in two thousand days.

He kissed you like a man starved and when you pulled away, wanted to kiss you again but managed to refrain.

"Missed that," you said.

Tommy gave a breathy laugh. "Ditto," he said.

Though the two of you were not the people you'd been before the war, you found it incredibly easy to love one another still.

"Well," Tommy said. "I would think I've got two weeks to cram six years worth of affection in to get you to come home, which means you'll probably grow sick of being kissed like that within the next bit."

You shook your head. "I would never," you said.

Tommy just laughed, pulled you in for another kiss and found his heart floating away from him, overtaken by love and joy and content, the rarely experienced emotions that always came into full effect whenever you were so much as in the same room as he was.

"I'll take your word for it, then," he said against your lips, laughing as you pulled him even closer, the both of you starved for one anothers touches.

And he would do as he said, let himself get lost in how you felt because the feeling of your touch was borderline intoxicating.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

The Roundup #3

Pairing: Joel Miller x !F!Reader

Summary: The gang is rounded up at Bill's, afterwards, Ellie and Elliot both want the adults to work together, especially since Y/n knew the outside world much more but with much reluctance from her. Their journey continues onwards to find Tommy.

Warnings: Adult language, blood, guns & knives, tension, angst, character death (mention of suicide), flashbacks of childbirth, attempted SA, arguments.

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

Part I, Part II,

--

"I'll cut to the chase. I need a car." Joel said.

"Well, it is a joke. Joel needs a car. Well, if I had one that works, which I sure as hell don't, what makes you think I'd just give it to you? Huh? Yeah, sure Joel, go ahead, take my car. Take all my food too while you're at it."

"By the looks of it, you could stand to lose some of that food." Ellie said. "You listen to me, you little shit-!"

"No, fuck you! You handcuffed me-"

"I need you to shut up. Alright?" Joel said to Ellie.

"It doesn't matter anyway. Y/n is already getting a car battery as we speak. Probably heading back already-"

"Y/n? She's here?" Joel questioned. "Arrived here around two hours ago, two kids, one of them was brat like that one." Bill said as he glared at Ellie. "She's taking the truck and leaving."

~~~

Y/n successfully found a truck inside of a house after escaping that school of hell. "Fucking bloaters." She hissed while dusting herself off, until she looked up and saw corpse hanging from the ceiling. It was Frank. She knew him personally, he was the one who found her after she left Joel, Tommy, and her brother at the start of this apocalypse.

He was the one who delivered her to the Jaguar's. He was bitten all along his arms and shoulder, did Bill know about this? She shook it off and cut him down to get rid of the display. She was already prepared to leave the house and go pick up the kids, that was until she passed by a room.

A child's room. Specifically, a young boy's area. Old car blankets, blue lamp, old posters of cowboys and space rangers. A small baseball bat in the corner, she bit her lip to push back the memories creeping into her mind again. But she couldn't fight the pain that overwhelmed her sights.

~~~

"Look at our little fella!" Y/n's brother smiled as he watched her baby bump. "You're already attached to the baby and she's not even out yet, Alex."

"You're so sure it's gonna be a girl, I want a little nephew." Alex grinned as he held his hip. "I want a niece." Reuben yelled from outside. "Guys, we don't need to-"

"No, the baby needs a crib. I bought a pink one-"

"Alex!"

"I'm kidding. It's a white one, geez! Anyway, how far along are you again? Six months?"

"Eight months? But. . . I'm scared." Y/n mumbled. "Pft! Scared? The hell are you scared about?" Arthur asked as he entered the living room where Y/n and Alex stood.

"You know. . . The whole, raising a baby thing. And the birth part, what if. . . What if something happens to me? Or worse, the baby?! What if I can't raise it-?"

"Hey, hey hey, don't worry about that right now. Take one step at a time. You know, I was there for it all with mom. I know I'm perfect because I'm the first one." Y/n punched his shoulder which made him laugh. "Y/n, mom panicked too about having another kid. You know what I told her?"

"What?"

"That she'll be okay. You on the other hand, will be perfect. Dad isn't here anymore, you got us. All twelve of us, Y/n. We're not leaving your side until you're settled and comfortable with you daughter."

"We don't know yet." She mumbled.

"Well, fuck it. I want a niece." Alex said.

"He wants a niece so he can keep the boys away from her." Arthur said while walking into the kitchen.

"That's only half true!" Alex reminded him. A few weeks later, Y/n was studying at her table for a test she had to do in a few days for school. She wanted to eat something, but didn't want to get up. Her brothers were out working while one was knocked out on the couch. Sighing and coming to a defeat, she got up and walked to the kitchen to look for some snacks to fill her appetite.

She found some chocolate and a cupcake to go along with it, "I'm such a sweet tooth for this kind of stuff." She mumbled to herself. Until she dropped her bar when she felt something soak her inner thighs, she gasped and looked to see that her water had broke.

"Oh. . . Shit. . . Oh shit! Julio!! Fuck! Julio! Julio, help!!" She yelled with panic, her brother immediately woke up from his power nap and rushed to the kitchen.

"What happened-? Oh! Oh! Oh, fuck! Okay! Okay, come on! We're taking you to the hospital!" He said as he quickly led her outside. The drive was urgent and so was the call he made to his brothers, multiple of them called the hospital to warn their second brother who was a doctor that Y/n was in labor.

She was shaking as sweat began to form on her brow, she was beginning to tear up as they prepared her on the bed. Her brother rushed in with three other nurses as her other brothers tried to comfort her. "You're okay, it's going to be okay-"

"Y/n, you have to focus and control your breathing, okay? Oh yeah, yeah, she's definitely dilated. I need you to try and push." Her brother, Michael said. Alex held her hand as he said comforting things to her. "Don't you give her pills to numb the pain or something?!" Julio yelled at Michael.

"She's too far along for that, and don't shout-!"

"Shit! Y/n!" Arthur and Luis said as they rushed inside of the room. "Doctor, there's too many people in here-!"

"Guys, wait outside the room-!"

"We're not leaving her alone!" Mateo cut in, "AGH!!" Y/n screamed, crushing Alex's hand in hers. He withheld the urge to rip his hand out of hers, he focused on trying to keep her calm. Her brothers watched her cry and scream as she tried pushing as hard as she could. But by the end of it, she was trying to catch her breath as the baby began to wail in Michael's arms.

He quickly moved to rest the baby in her arms, as soon as he did, the baby began to calm down within her grasp. "Congrats, little sis. . . It's a baby boy." He grinned at her. She let out a small laugh and she hugged her baby, "He's so quiet." She whispered out of breath. "Damn. . . Can we switch it for a girl-?"

"Alex!" His brothers and Y/n chastised.

"I'm kidding! What are you gonna name him?" He wondered as he sat in a chair rubbing his hand.

"How about Spartan?" Mateo suggested. "No, definitely Master Chief." Luis said. Y/n ignored the bickering over the name and instead looked at her son, unable to look away from such a beautiful boy. His small knuckles rested on her chest, his tiny body lying on hers as she held him securely.

"I like Noah." She said, her brothers all paused and looked at her. "Noah?" Michael said as he dried his hands after washing them. "Why Noah?" Ramone inquired while sitting beside Y/n.

"I just like it. . . It matches him, doesn't it? Little Noah. . ."

"Noah and the Ark, you mean?" Mateo chuckled.

"Shush." Luis muttered.

"I like it." Julio answered.

"Hi, Noah. . . You're so beautiful. . . So beautiful and special." Y/n whispered before kissing his head.

~~~

"So, that worked out well." Elliot said, "Okay, ah. We'll go check this side of the house." Ellie's voice brought Y/n back to reality, she turned and walked down the hall, listening to the two adult men.

"Bill?" Joel muttered. "Somebody had the same idea. They stole my shit." Bill answered. "Then what the hell is plan B?" Joel said. "You oughta be thankful you're still drawing breath. That was plan A, B, C, all the way to fucking Z. And furthermore, tell Tess that she can take this job-", "Don't you bring Tess into this!", "-she can shove it right up-!", "She's got nothin' to do with-!"

They both stopped arguing as they see the corpse on the ground. ". . . Jesus. What? Do you know this guy or something?" Joel questioned.

"Frank." Bill mumbled. "Who the hell's Frank?" Joel scoffed.

"He was his partner." Y/n said as she entered the room. Relief seemed to have washed from Joel's face when he saw her standing there. "He's the only idiot that would wear a shirt like that. . . He's got bites. Here. And. . ." Bill didn't continue as he painfully looked at his partner's face.

"I reckon he didn't want to turn so he. . ."

"Yeah. I guess not. Well fuck him." Bill spat. "I cut him down when I got here. . . I. . . I'm sorry, Bill. I found the battery in the garage." Soon they all hear the sound of a pickup starting up. Y/n rushed to the garage, Elliot and Ellie were in the truck as Max stood in the bed of the truck.

"Look what we found. It's got some juice in it." Ellie smirked. "That's my battery. That fuckin' asshole. . . Get out. Get out." Bill said to the kids.

"Okay, geez." Ellie grumbled as Elliot helped Max out of the truck.

~~~

"I found the battery myself, therefore, I get the truck." Y/n argued with Joel. "I told you we're takin' the truck!" Y/n scoffed at Joel's response. Elliot and Ellie looked at each other before they took Max and got inside of the truck themselves. "You know this place better, don't you? So walk!" Joel said to her. "Driving is quicker to get these kids back! You walk!" She seethed at him.

"We can go together?" Elliot suggested. "No!" Y/n spat, "Joel is going to walk and we're taking the truck."

"You're the one walkin'!" Joel said as he turned away from her. Everything escalated from zero to hundred when a knife was held against Joel's throat. "You're. Fucking. Walking. Miller. I don't care if I have to rip out your Achilles tendon to stop you, I will do it if you continue to push me." She threatened him. Ellie had wide eyes as Elliot watched with growing panic. Max was busy playing with her stuffed bunny on her lap. "Why do you want the truck so badly?" He asked her. "I already told you. You're walking with your cargo and I'm delivering mine."

"Why can't we drive together! It's faster and better! We'll be safer with numbers, remember!" Ellie said, "Just get over it and get in the car!" Elliot groaned.

Please. Max signed at Y/n. She hated the thought of working with Joel again, but she swallowed her pride and removed the knife from him. "I'm driving for now. We switch later." She commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am." He muttered.

~~~

Y/n was asleep in her bed, her brothers watched how peaceful she was. "She's finally sleeping comfortably." Luis muttered. "I thought she'd never sleep like this again." Michael whispered. Alex held two of his brothers shoulders before turning and heading downstairs.

"Alright, she's gonna need our help. She's still a kid and she's doing her work for school, that means we'll help her with Noah. That means: feeding, cleaning, changing, watching, and being around that kid whenever we can. We'll have shifts to take. Michael is bringing in a large sum of money thanks to his job, who else has a high salary?" Alex questioned as he grabbed a paper and pen before jotting down the payments.

"I'm a lawyer, remember?" Arthur added.

"Okay, lawyer, doctor, anyone a nurse or a singer?" Alex said. But before someone could speak, Noah began to cry. The twelve of them rushed to the wailing baby but found Y/n cradling him in her arms, she looked exhausted from just waking up, but Alex noticed how quickly she woke up just for Noah.

It reminded them all of their mother. No matter how tired she was, how much she craved her sleep, she'd do anything to help her children first. "You guys sound like a stampede of elephants when you run together." She mumbled, "I think he's hungry though. . . Can you close the door-?"

"Yeah! Yeah, okay. Closing the door." Luis said as he shut the door to give her privacy. "I can't believe she's a mom." Mateo replied as he leaned against the wall, "Nursing and getting up in the middle of the night for her baby. . . I can't believe it."

"You better believe it. We're all uncles, and we can't fuck it up. Not with our own sister." Arthur commented. "We'll get used to this. We can do it."

~~~

Joel and Y/n swapped places driving, she had her eyes closed as she rested in her seat. Her fingers tapping on her arm as she stayed silent, ". . . Can't sleep?" Joel mumbled. "I can. I just don't trust sleeping in a car." She whispered.

The drive was silent as it could be. The three children were sleeping in the back as the two adults remained vigilant; Y/n often glanced at Joel to see if he were dozing off or not, "You should get more sleep." She said, Joel looked at her. "I don't need you passing out on me." She added.

"I'm fine." Joel answered. She sighed and closed her eyes before Ellie and Elliot groaned.

"Oh, man." She whined.

"Hey, what happened to sleeping?" Joel questioned them. Ellie then held up a comic to show Joel and Y/n as Elliot tapped his fingers on his lap. "Okay, I know it doesn't look like it, but this here is not a bad read. Only one problem. Right there. "To be continued!" I hate cliffhangers."

"Where the hell did you two get that?" Y/n inquired.

"Uhh. . . back at Bill's." Elliot muttered. "I mean all this stuff was just lying there!" Ellie added. Max whined as she tried to cover her hears to sleep more.

"What else did you get?" Joel sighed.

"Well. . ." Ellie hummed as Elliot handed her a cassette with a smirk on his face. "Here. This make you two all nostalgic?" Ellie teased. "Y'know, this is actually before our time. That is a winner though." Joel said, before he pushed the cassette into the radio. "Oh, man. . ." He muttered.

"Well, better than nothing." Elliot commented. "Oh! I'm sure your friend will be missing this tonight." Ellie chuckled.

"Mm-hmm." Y/n hummed. "Light on the reading, but it's got some interesting photos." Elliot piped up. Joel and Y/n both glanced at the mirror before seeing the adult magazine in Ellie's hands.

"Hey, Ellie, that ain't for kids." Joel said. "Whoa. How. . . how the hell would he even walk around with that thing?" Ellie gasped. "Oh shit! Look at those straps! Looks like he's wearing a fishing net!" Elliot laughed.

"Get rid of that. Just-", "Throw that away, right now-!" Joel and Y/n both scolded as she tried to reach and grab the magazine.

"Hold your horses. We wanna see what all the fuss is about." Elliot chuckled as he looked at the magazine with Ellie. "Oh. . . why are these all stuck together?"

"Um. . ." Joel mumbled. "Haha! We're just fucking with you. Bye-bye, dude." Elliot threw it out the window as Max growled and climbed over into the front seat and on Y/n's lap. "Hey-!" Max whimpered as she laid comfortably in her chest, she was small and so warm. Her short light brown hair was soft on Y/n's neck. Max was easily dozing off once again

"You know what? . . . This isn't that bad." Elliot said.

"Why don't y'all try and get some sleep, alright?" answered Joel. "Pft—I'm not even tired." Ellie scoffed. "Me too." Elliot added. Less then five minutes later, Ellie and Elliot were sound asleep as they arrive on Pittsburgh's highway. Y/n had fallen asleep while holding Max in her arms.

Joel slowed the car down when they arrived at a blocked road. "Oh, no, no, no, no. . . Well, perfect." He sighed. "Mm? . . . Now what?" Y/n mumbled out as she woke herself up. Joel huffed before saying, "Screw it."

He turned the vehicle and continued down the turnpike, Y/n felt Max whimper in her shoulder as her small hands clutched to Y/n's jacket. Y/n's hands were reluctant as she reached to rub circles on Max's back to comfort her. The car suddenly jolts to a stop when Joel saw a man approaching their truck, supposedly injured as he clutched his stomach.

"Easy!" Ellie gasped.

"Please. . . help. . .!" The man begged. Y/n lifted Max and pushed her into the backseat before reaching down to her bag to retrieve her gun and a hunting knife. "Holy crap. . . Are we going to help him?" Elliot asked. "Put your seat belt on, kids." Y/n warned as she gripped her gun.

"Help me!" He begged. "W-What about the guy?!" Ellie yelped.

"He ain't even hurt." Joel growled before pushing the gas. "Oh, fuck!! Go, go, go!!" The man ordered as Joel charges at the stranger; different men all begin to start shooting at the truck as Y/n yelled for the kids to duck. Y/n then saw an overturned bus heading right at them. "Oh fuck! Joel-!" The bus t-boned them.

"Hold on!" Joel shouted as they crashed in a storefront. The sudden impact caused Y/n to go hazy as she slowly sat back up. "You guys okay?" She mumbled.

"I'm okay, I'm okay.", "Same here." Ellie and Elliot both said. "Then get out quick." Joel grunted as he and Y/n removed their seatbelts. Just then—Y/n's side door is ripped open and a hunter grabbed her arm and neck before attempting to pull her out of the truck. "C'mere!" The hunter hissed.

"Shit!" Joel said as he grabbed Y/n's ankle to pull her back inside. "Fuck-! Joel! Get the kids-! Get the fucking kids-!"

"Let go of her, you chickenshit! Joel!" Ellie shouted as she tried to open her door to help Y/n. "Y/n!!" Elliot screamed as he kicked at his door. Joel was then grabbed and dragged out of the truck by another hunter. Joel was slammed through glass but used his strength to avoid getting his throat sliced into by the sharp piece of glass. He elbowed the man before turning and slamming the hunter into the glass shard. "Joel!!" The kids yelled as they finally broke through the door—Joel's eyes scanned for Y/n before seeing the hunter slap her to the ground and get on top of her. "I'll show you. I'll show you." The hunter growled as he slid his hand up her shirt—trying to grab at her bra. "You fucking bastard!!" She shouted before stabbing his ribs with her knife that she reached for.

Max screamed as she jumped on the man's back and bit his ear to get him off Y/n. "Shit!" The hunter yelled as he tried to rip Max off while being stabbed at. Elliot and Ellie saved Max as Joel grabbed the hunter and dragged him towards a counter. He pulled him up and slammed his face into the edge of the counter.

"Motherfucker!" Ellie growled. "Come on." Joel said as Y/n got up. "What's wrong with these guys?" Elliot asked as he held Max's hand. "Catch your breath. We're leaving." Joel said while grabbing Y/n's bag and handing it to her.

"You okay-?", "I'm fine." She said abruptly—cutting off Joel before taking her gun. "Watch out!" Ellie gasped before a rifle was fired at Joel's head. They ducked just in time. "I know a way out. . . The roof is a good spot, from there we can cross and over to the next building. It's secured at the bottom." Y/n said, "Forgot these fucking hunters were here."

~~~

"There's no plank!?" Ellie squeaked. Y/n threw her bag across to the opposite building before backing up. Elliot turned and looked at her, so did Max and Ellie soon after. "What are you doing?" Elliot asked, she didn't respond before running and leaping off the building. Landing and rolling onto the other rooftop.

"Oh shit!!" The kids gasped. "I have a plank here. Cross over, quick!" Y/n said. Max whined as she held Joel's hand, her worst fear was heights. Elliot and Ellie passed to the next building, Joel picked up Max who was beginning to cry in his shoulder. Y/n pulled out her gun and aimed at the door as a hunter broke through—she shot him straight through the skull as Joel set Max down on the floor before removing the plank.

"Come on, let's keep moving!" Y/n said.

They hurried to a safer place, the hunters were still around, but not too close. "Oh, this place stinks." Ellie gagged. "Yeah, wood's all rotten." Joel replied as they continued walking through the building.

Ellie stopped by an abandoned coffee shop before asking Joel: "Did you go to coffee shops a lot?"

"I did. All the time." Joel answered. "And what would you get?" asked Elliot.

"Just. . . just coffee." Joel said. "Over here. . . We head through this hotel and make out on the other side. The quicker we get out, the safer we'll be." Y/n said as they followed her into the large hotel.

"It's clear, for now." said Y/n as she climbed down into the hotel. "Whoa. . . this is fancy. Ever stay in a place like this? Before it all went to shit, I mean." Ellie asked. "Watch your mouth." Y/n said.

"No. . . no, this is too rich for my blood." Joel commented. "Oh. I bet it was nice." Elliot grinned. Y/n ignored the conversation as she scoped out the area, planning on escaping without drawing anymore attention from the hunters. Perhaps she could travel by leaping onto other rooftops, it's risky. Maybe the kids can't jump that far, and she doubted there'll be more planks around them. The climbed through the elevator, Y/n helped the girls first before lifting Elliot next.

Before anyone could process it, the elevator gave in and collapsed from beneath the adults. Both fell into water as the kids screamed for their names. "Oh shit! Joel! Y/n?!", "Y/n! Joel!"

"We're alright! Are you okay?" Joel yelled as Y/n resurfaced. "No! You scared the shit outta us!" Ellie shouted. "I'm gonna climb down there, okay?" Elliot said. "No! All of you stay up there. We'll make our way up to you!" Y/n responded.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Ellie said. ". . . Don't kill each other." Elliot added.

"Yeah. . . We'll try." Joel muttered.

They didn't kill each other, but they rather tried to help each other when hunters found them. Y/n didn't hesitate to stab one of them in the throat—turning to grab a second hunter that was attacking her and managed to break his arm. Y/n was separated from Joel as the scuffle grew worse.

"Fuck!" One of them yelled as he tackled Joel into a semi-deep puddle of water. He held him down—drowning him as Y/n was being slammed into the wall by another attacker. Elliot ran and jumped onto the hunter's back and stabbed his switchblade in his neck—painfully dragging it across his throat while Ellie picked up Joel's pistol and shot the hunter drowning him.

Her hands were trembling as she slowly lowered it while Joel gasped for air. "Man. . . I shot the hell outta that guy, huh?" She whispered, Max was standing beside her as she stared wide-eyed at the corpse.

"Yeah, you sure did." He said. "I feel sick." She muttered as she sat down. Joel took his pistol back as Max looked up at him. "Why didn't you just hang back like I told you to?" Joel replied.

"Well, you're glad I didn't, right?" Ellie responded. "I'm glad I didn't get my head blown off by a damn kid." Joel scolded. "You know what? No. How about "Hey, Ellie. I know it wasn't easy, but it was either him or me, thanks for saving my ass." You got anything like that for me, Joel?" She asked.

". . . We gotta get going. We have to find Y/n and Elliot."

"Lead the way." She muttered.

~~~

Y/n was rubbing her neck as she looked at Elliot who's entire right hand was coated in blood. "Whoa. . . I-I really cut the hell out of his throat, huh?" He muttered with shaking hands. "Uh huh." Y/n sighed while straightening up correctly. Elliot leaned against the wall as he clenched on to his switchblade, "Why didn't you stay behind with your sister?" Y/n retorted.

He looked at her again and answered, "You and Joel were gone for. . . a while and, we were scared. . . So we tried to find you. And, you're glad I found you. . . right?" Elliot wondered. Y/n dusted off her shoulders and looked down the hall, ". . . Guess I am glad. . . But don't do that ever again."

"Why-?"

"Because I said so. If I'm struggling with someone in a fight, you better turn and run. Run as far as you can and don't turn back for me, you take you and your sister to somewhere else safe. Find Joel and Ellie and go with them. If that ever happens, you better do what I just told you to do. Got it?" She asked him.

". . . Got it. . ." He lowly said.

~~~

Y/n led them out of the hotel onto a scaffolding. But below them, hunters were patrolling the area. Y/n grabbed Joel's sleeve and tugged him down to avoid being seen. "Oh, shit." He muttered.

"They haven't gotten back yet. What the hell's taking them so long?" A hunter asked. "I don't know. They went to check on 'em. For now, we wait." Another replied.

"C'mere, keep your heads down." Joel said to the two teens, Max was close behind Y/n, "Alright now. . . I'm gonna jump down there and I'm gonna clear us a path."

"We're going to clear a path." Y/n added. Joel locked eyes with her before Ellie spoke up. "What about us?", "You stay here." Y/n said. "This is so stupid. We'd have more of a fucking chance if you'd let us help." Ellie responded.

"I am." She huffed before tipping her head at Joel who grabs a rifle laying nearby. "Now you seem to know your way around a gun. You reckon you can handle that?" Joel asked Ellie.

"Well, uh, I sorta shot a rifle before. . . but it was a rats." Ellie confessed. Y/n stared at her with disappointment as Joel confusingly asked, "Rats?"

"With BBs, I bet?" Elliot grinned, "Fuck yeah." Ellie replied with a smirk. "Well, it's the same basic concept. Lift it up. Alright now, you're gonna wanna lean right into that stock, 'cause it's gonna kick a hell of a lot more than any BB rifle." Joel said. Y/n pulled out another rifle and handed it to Elliot, "You listen to what he says. Max, come here." Y/n whispered.

"Okay." Elliot replied as he knelt on Joel's other side. "Go ahead and pull the bolt back. Grab it right there. Just tug it. . . There you go. Now as soon as you fire, you're gonna want to get another round in there quick. Listen to me—if we get in trouble down there, both of you make every shot count, yeah?"

"We got this." Ellie said. "Max, when they need more bullets, you give them some. Always have one to pass onto them, okay?" Y/n said to her. She nodded and scooted in between Ellie and Elliot.

"Alright. And just so we're clear about back there. . . it was either him or me." Joel said to Ellie.

"You're welcome." Ellie added.

______________________________________

Part 4 is on it's way.

#fanfic #slow burn #smutwarning #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel and ellie

[fiona-kitsune13]

Haunted

(I was pretty proud of this one, especially since it made my lover cry. So I figured I would post it here, sorry in advance.)

Macaque buried his face into his pillow, his whole body felt heavy. He hadn't slept well in what felt like months. Now that he thought about it, it might actually be months. One eye peeked open and was greeted by bright golden eyes. Tired smile made it's way on his face.

"You need to take better care of yourself mango" Wukong brought a hand up to cup the tired monkeys cheek.

"I'm fine peaches" he mumbled earning a chuckle from the other.

He loved that noise it always made his stomach flutter. He felt the others tail wrap around his waist. The shadow monkey shuffled himself closer to the golden monkey. Wukong started a soft hum that lulled the shadow monkey into sleep. Macaque's ears twitched as he heard his mate say one last thing before he was out.

"Everything is ok now mango."

~~~~~~~

Macaque was set up at the kitchen table, books spread out everywhere as he furiously wrote in the notebook in front of him. he let out a big yawn and stretched his arms up, glancing at the clock he noticed eight hours had flown by since he started this. he moved his head around to fix the stiff feeling in his neck then picked up the cup of coffee he put off to the side. taking a sip his ears flinched as a chin rested on his shoulder. Macaque put the cup down and turned to look at the golden monkey peering over his shoulder and at his notes.

Noticing the demon looking at him Wukong gave a big grin "Aren't you hungry? when was the last time you ate?"

Liu er had to think about that, he hummed to himself "Yesterday....I think? it's fine im not that hungry."

As if to prove him wrong, his stomach growled making the shadow demon's face flush red. Wukong pulled away laughed at his mate, teasing him slightly for the noise. Macaque puffed up his cheeks and got up from his chair. the king was right, he should eat before his stomach decided to embarrass him again. he pulled a mango from the fridge and locked eyes with the golden monkey as he took a bite.

"Did you really have to do it with that much sass Mango?" Wukong shook his head with a sigh.

Macaque swallowed and stuck his tongue at Wukong "Sass is my middle name."

The kings face twisted up in playful confusion "It is?"

Macaque chuckled and finished off the fruit then returned to his seat, picking up his pencil and turned his attention back to his books. this must have displeased his mate as he felt arms wrap around his waist. The shadow monkey gave an amused huff as he leaned back against the king, he had been oddly distracting lately and super clingy.

"Let me work" Liu er tried.

"You need rest Mango" Wukong nuzzled into his face making the demon shiver "You're exhausted."

"I'll be fine, I'll take a break in a few minutes since I have to pick Bai-he up from school anyway" Macaque tried to reason.

Wukong gave a small chirp, agreeing with his mate but before he let go he buried his face into the demon's fur. he mumbled something into the other's fur making the Monkey's six ears twitch.

'Everything is ok now Mango'

~

The shadow demon rubbed his temples as he threw down the book he had been studying down. He was tired and frustrated and he couldn't find the answers he was looking for. His knees gave out and he sat on the ground. He pulled his legs to his chest with one arm and used his other hand to dig his claws into that arm. Tears pooled in his eyes as he let out a frustrated scream.

His claws raked against his arm, he ignored the stinging pain. In fact he relished in it, he felt he deserved it as he kept failing. A sob broke from his chest and the tears poured down his cheeks.

"Papa?" Bai-he peered into the living room, catching a glimpse of her father on the floor crying.

It had become normal for her to see him break like this. Carefully she stepped closer to the shadow monkey, his ears twitched registering she was in the room. He quickly wiped his tear away and tried his best to pull himself together. He threw a glamour over the claw marks he had made.

Looking at the girl he smiled, his voice strained and broken "everything ok sweetie?"

"I heard you scream from my room" The black haired mortal stood in front of him now "I wanted to check on you."

Liu er needed to hold himself together his daughter needed him "I'm fine, sorry scared you."

She didn't look convinced at all, she got down on her knees and stretched out her arms. The shadow monkey smiled a bit and moved to pull her into a hug. His arms tightened around her as he found comfort in her warmth. He felt familiar claws brush through his fur and he glanced over.

Wukong gave him a smile, offering a form of comfort. The king then gave Bai-he a light pat on her head "Everything is ok now mango."

"Thank you peaches."

~~~~~~~~~

"Slow down what's going on?" Mk looked at Bai-he confused.

"Papa's been talking to himself" she rubbed her knuckles nervous "it been going on for months."

Mk looked to Red Son who shrugged, Macaque hasn't really left his home in months. He has ignored Princess Iron Fans calls and refuses to see any one. This worried Xiaotian he looked towards the girl and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Me and Red will stop by later to see how he's doing, why don't you go visit Sandy?"

Bai-he hugged Mk thanking him repeatedly for helping Macaque. The duo set off from the noodle shop and found the apartment the shadow monkey was now living in. Mk took a deep breath and Red interlaced their fingers. The fire demons grip keeping the brunette grounded. Mk knocked on the door and waited patiently. The door opened to reveal a tired Macaque, the demon trying to give the boy a smile.

"Hey kiddo, what are you doing here?" His voice was hoarse, Mk chalked it up to crying.

"Bai-he wanted us to check on you, Mac you haven't left your home in months." Mk frowned.

Macaque moved from the door, letting the duo enter his home. He shut the door behind them and sighed. Red Son looked around the living room the scattered books and notes catching his eye. Xiaotian cringed at the mess then focused on the shadow monkey who ran a hand threw his fur with a yawn.

"When was the last time you slept?" Macaque thought about that "I got a few hours last night....I always had trouble sleeping...."

Red Son picked up a book and checked the marked pages. His eye widen at the contents of the book, with a quick motion he moved to his boyfriend. The fire demon showed him the book, Mk sucked in a breath as tears stung his eyes. He gripped the book and he held in any noise that would sound like a sob.

"Macaque.....you can't bring him back" Mk looked as the shadow monkey froze.

The comment threw Macaque off slightly. His breath caught in his throat and he felt his knees buckle under him. His mind moving a mile a minute "I don't know what your talking about."

The brunettes heart broke as he saw the other struggling "Wukong's not coming back....he's dead...."

Wukong dead? Impossible! He was immortal, six different ways immortal! He wrapped his arms around himself, tears flooding from his eyes, the kid was lying right? He had to be lying! Wukong couldn't die, he wouldn't leave the shadow monkey alone. Dull gold eyes looked up to be greeted by the golden monkey.

The king was sitting on the arm of his couch, a gentle smile on his face "he's right mango.....I'm gone."

He felt a sob bubble in his throat and a whispered "no" slipped out.

"Mango I'm sorry but I need you to remember" there was no warmth when Wukong touched him now. Their was no feeling at all, the demon whimpered.

~~~~~~~~

Lady Bone Demon was defeated, macaque sighed in relief. He was finally free from her control. He scanned the battle field, Wukong was still staring at the crater that remained after the final blow. The shadow demon shook his head and turned to check on the others. Pigsy, Tang and Sandy seemed just fine. Red Son had a few wounds but Xiaotian was right by his side helping him out. Mei had whipped out her phone for victory selfies and was watching over Bai-he. The poor girl was just as much a victim of Lady Bone as he was. He assessed his own wounds, a few broken ribs but nothing that couldn't heal given time. He slowly stretched out, flinching in pain. He focused on the golden monkey again.

Slowly he moved next to the king, he looked at the crater wondering why the king was so fixated on it. "Wukong you ok? It's over, she's not gonna reappear" he chuckled trying to ease the others nerves.

"I can't believe she actually controlled me, it felt awful having her in my head." Wukong just stared ahead "did you feel that bad?"

Macaque shivered "it wasn't pleasant if that helps."

Wukong gave a soft chuckled, out of the corner of the demons eyes he could see a bit of red slide down the kings chin. His eyes widened as he turned to the golden monkey. The king stumbled a bit and fell back, Liu er caught him in his arms. He slowly lowered himself and the monkey to the ground. He panicked as the king coughed up more blood.

"Wu-Wukong what's going on!?" Macaque's heart dropped as panic took hold of him.

"I'm happy I was able to hold out long enough......" Wukong's voice was shaky and weak. His bright golden eyes were now dull.

"Shit shit shit! Peaches what did you do!?" Macaque felt the tears fill his eyes "hold on I'll get you help!"

"Mango its fine......." Wukong struggled to take a breath, a weak smile on his face "hey mango?"

"Save your breath stupid" Macaque turned to the group in the distance " GUYS COME QUICK!!!"

"Mango" Wukong said it firmer this time gaining the shadow monkeys attention.

"What?" He hissed, he really wanted the golden monkey to save his energy.

"I'm so sorry for everything" Wukong coughed and Macaque whimpered. The demon was lost, the sage could not be doing this. Not now, this wasn't the time to try and make up with the demon.

"I'm sorry for abandoning you, I'm sorry for killing you" Wukong's voice got weaker.

"Shit peaches I'll forgive you if you just hold on!" Macaque broke, tears streamed down his cheeks. A sob broke from his chest. Tang was the first to reach them and his face paled. Macaque nuzzled his face into Wukong's as he cried. Wukong moved his face towards the shadow demons.

He pressed his lips to Macaques real quick and gave him a smile "Everything will be ok now mango....."

With that he was gone and a screaming wail broke free from the demon. Macaque didn't know what the others were doing he just knew he felt cold and empty. His mate gone, he would give anything to fix this.

~~~~~~~

Macaque fell to his knees, gripping his ears and chanting 'no' repeatedly. Xiaotian and Red Son rushed to the shadow monkey's side. The demon doubled over sobbing, he didn't want to let go, he couldn't let go. He spent so much time trying to find a way to bring the monkey king back to him. He was haunted by the golden monkey's presence.

Xiaotian had pulled the demon into his lap hugging him tight. His own tears streaming down his cheeks "I'm sorry Macaque, I'm so sorry I miss him to."

Red rubbed the demons back and joined in the small hug pile. He knew how much his boyfriend missed the monkey king. He had helped him through most of the nightmares and break downs.

"H-he can't be gone" Macaque whimpered he could barely move his body anymore. That's when his situation fully hit. He hasn't slept in months or eaten anything, he had no energy left.

"Macaque you need to let us help you" Red tried "you cant keep going like this and Bai-he needs you."

With a shaky breathe agreed, he needed help and maybe it was time to let go and let the others in. They stayed in that pile for a long time, just mourning their loss. Macaque finally passed out, Red was able to lift the demon and tuck him into his bed. The boyfriends decided it was best to stick around so they set up in the living room. Cleaning up the books and making a small bed for them to use.

~~~

Liu er waved Princess Iron Fan off as she left him at the café. She had plans with her husband and Liu er wasn't ready to go home just yet. He had to pick Bai-he up from the noodle shop in an hour, he was happy Pigsy let her start working there. He stared into his cup of tea, he still felt a bit lonely with out Wukong. He wished he fixed things before the king left him, he shook his head trying to keep those thoughts from his mind.

 He has been working hard for a year now to move on, he no longer saw images of the golden monkey every where. He was helping out in a local theater, working on music, helping with costumes and training the actors. he even got to be in a few show's himself, it was a nice distraction. He often saw Xiaotian around town, he even stopped by for advice on how to court Red Son. Mei would stop by to help Bai-he with homework or watch a movie with them, the dragon girl had good taste in movies. Sandy made several days open for the demon to have a therapy sessions since he still had progress to make. he took a deep breath, things were starting to get better.

He looked down at his cup of tea a small smile made it's way onto his face "Everything is going to be ok now Peaches."

#lmk sun wukong #shadowpeach #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid mk #lmk au #lmk red son #monkie kid #lmk fanfiction #spicynoodles #qi xiaotian #I woke up and chose violence

[nonbinarycharmybee]

i'm a big fan of the headcanon that Vector adopted Charmy (in the i found this kid so i guess it's mine now? kind of way) when he was a really little bitty baby larva because it means Vector and Espio would've been there when Charmy pupated and. ough.

Worker bees take around 14 days to pupate irl but real-life bees don't live very long so. let's go with the idea that pupation in the sonic world takes about six-eight weeks (they've got a lot more complex organisms to develop). Also real bee larva stay in their cell in the beehive until after they pupate so I imagine that's like. equivalent to a baby incubator and Vector finding Charmy was like holy shit this is bad? I need a doctor right? Anyways they find a doctor and put larva-Charmy in an artificial incubator for a few weeks just to stabilize him, and Vector and Espio stop by to visit every day because they feel responsible and the nurses let them hold him for a little bit and he's so small he fits in one of Espio's hands. After he's stabilized enough the doctor says they can take him home, it's not usual for a larva to live outside of a cell but as long as they keep a close eye on him he should be fine, he promises.

Bee larva grow over a thousand times their size. And shed their skin(?) several times. And eat a lot. (Also they don't have eyeballs!). So now Vector and Espio have a fussy, constantly hungry, rapidly growing ugly little grub to watch over, because somehow not having legs yet is going to stop Charmy from wriggling out of the crib and nearly falling to the ground. Anyways back to the whole point, pupation is normally done by other bees sealing the cells with beeswax so when they figure Charmy is about to pupate they take him back to the doctor and put him back in the incubator until he makes a cocoon for himself a few days later and they're allowed to take him back home with strict instructions to be very careful, do not shake, avoid extreme temperatures etc etc. You probably won't notice a difference but if the cocoon starts looking misshapen or suddenly becomes a lot darker or lighter or it's been over eight weeks, call me. And they put pupa-Charmy in his crib (that has since been child-locked) with a heat lamp and temperature controls and Vector is a nervous wreck ("Espio does this look lumpy too you. Espio." "It always looks lumpy." "Espio I can see the cocoon getting darker." "The book says that's normal?" "Espio it's been eight weeks should we call the doctor??" "I...don't know.")

Charmy finally breaks out of the cocoon on the absolute last possible day, Vector hears the sound of soft crunching noises on the other side of the room and starts yelling for Espio to get down here quick it's happening and they both watch and Vector's like I should help him right and Espio's like Absolutely Not, just wait >_>. It takes fifteen minutes but it feels like hours and they're both unsure if Charmy will recognize them since he's technically never seen them before? right now he's equivalent to a 3-4 month old so he can't sit up yet but he can notice and look at faces which he does almost immediately, and they stare at each other for a long few seconds until Espio says "happy birthday" and Charmy smiles.

("We're adopting him right." "I thought we already did.")

(And then he started teething a week later.)

#sdskdsk this was only supposed to be the first paragraph but. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ #mine #headcanons #long post #insect tw #medical tw #im operating on the headcanon that doctors/ medical stuff aren't like. super expensive in the sonic universe but #they're not quite free either esp in regards to complex health issues #also honey bees will remove diseased larva from the hive so going with that charmy was probably already dying/ presumed to be dead #he was a very sick little baby and that's why vector's so protective of him 😌✌️ #team chaotix #charmy bee #(also jic dont tag as ship or i WILL block you dont test me)

[masterofdemise]

Thank you @lady-lazagna for sending the ask!

Anyway, so I think it is absolutely NO surprise that when I say "mysterious unlikely helpers", if you follow my art enough, you'll know it's none other than Pluto and Johannes. Now, knowing me, this is a long one so sit tight.

"But Alexis? Pluto died, how did he come back?"

I RESURRECTED HIM WITH THE POWER OF COPIU-okay serious answer. I'm still finding the exact answer for it, but in some lucky twist of fate for Pluto, because he was not the Child of the Black Sun and therefore deemed "unworthy", he was in simple terms, "rejected" by Nemesis and after some time of sitting inside of it, he was sent back into the living realm. Yada yada yada, he encounters Dynamis and a whole bunch of drama occurs before eventually everyone knocks some sense into Pluto and Pluto decides he will not go on more troubling tasks to condemn the world. Wanting to right the many wrongs he did, he donates a good portion of his fortune away to aid people in need, and starts working at the WBBA to try and make up for what he did since just sitting in jail won't do much to help anyone.

In the meanwhile, during the six months he was missing, Johannes and the rest of the Nemesis gang were stuck in Metal Bey City and without any direction or idea on what to do with their lives, they wallowed around for a bit until Elysse knocked sense into the four and convinced them to start up a business (aka, Cafe Lynx). After establishing the cat cafe, since it was so close, Felicity decided to pay a visit and that is where she started talking with Johannes. Since the two were such cat fanatics, they became quick friends of sorts and engaged in gossip. Especially with Fifionne and He Li Hua not around as much due to Li Hua being busy and Fifionne doing AWOL, Felicity gets to at least relax at the new cat cafe. Even though she became aware of Johannes's involvement in the world destroying incident, knowing what she did with Fifionne, she let it slide and gave Johannes a chance.

After Pluto comes back, he takes up a position as manager of the cafe, as well as a worker with the WBBA. Since Felicity is such a frequent visitor, Pluto meets her and they become friends.

Here is the real important stuff, and a huge spoiler( but also not really since it's not like I'll have the energy to type this all out into a story). When He Li Hua calls Felicity about Fifionne being missing, Felicity says she has not heard from Fifionne since the Nemesis incident (which was by the time Li Hua called, eight months ago).

This is a lie.

Felicity not only saw her almost right after Nemesis was defeated to analyze Fifionne's new Divine Fox, but she also saw Fifionne one month ago. In truth, Felicity KNEW something was deeply wrong with Fifionne and panicked heavily after Fifionne threatened her to not interfere with her plans. With the way she was behaving, Felicity likened it to another Ryuga-like incident in the way that Fifionne was not only being influenced by a dark-force(Tamamo), but by how much Fifionne seemed to be motivated by revenge. Knowing the authorities probably would not be able to do much against her friend and even if they did it probably would not go well, she decided it would be easier to enlist the help of other people.

As a result, she turns over to both Pluto and Johannes two weeks before He Li Hua makes the call. Knowing the two have expertise in not only tracking people down, but because they have the experiences of being former evil-doers and schemers, she is willing to pay the both of them for the job. Pluto refuses the money since the two do not really need it, and Pluto is trying to do it out of kindness. With that, the two start their investigation without ever informing the WBBA. Pluto does go on to inform the WBBA about this later, but only after Li Hua shows up.

Fast forward to when Li Hua travels to Japan on impulse to look for clues on Fifionne, Felicity panics. Not only does she know that Li Hua will absolutely despise Pluto and Johannes for being a part of their search, but because Fifionne also threatened Felicity to not get Li Hua involved. Not wanting Li Hua to figure out the truth and trying to solve the Fifionne problem as quietly as possible, she keeps quiet and plays up the lie. Li Hua ends to the WBBA for information where they finally learn of her disappearance. With the assumption that Felicity knows as much as Li Hua (when she doesn't), Li Hua leaves for Kyoto for answers while Felicity has more time to try and wrap things up.

Unfortunately, Li Hua does manage to come back with information and continues bugging Felicity about the search. Knowing she won't be able to go on the search for herself, she gives up on keeping Pluto and Johannes's roles a secret and asks Li Hua to go to Cafe Lynx without her. It is there where Li Hua almost blows a fuse at Felicity when she realizes who exactly Felicity enlisted the help of. As mad as Li Hua is, this is all so they can find Fifionne and Li Hua has no choice but to let it slide.

I'll leave it at that since those are the main bits of information that need to be known for the setup. Essentially, Felicity has been working with Pluto and Johannes behind Li Hua's back because Felicity is not only worried about Li Hua and Fifionne encountering one another, but because she believes Pluto and Johannes will be the best for the job. He Li Hua is absolutely infuriated and feels betrayed that Felicity is so willing to work with people she sees as the "lowest scum of the Earth", but she sets her differences aside just for a bit because Li Hua cares more about Fifionne's safety. There is going to be a lot more drama that occurs soon after Li Hua talks more with the two, but that can be discussed another time when I feel like not shutting up.

#again thank you so much for the ask #had a lot of fun typing this out I LOVE talking about the Vermillion Vows #there is so much drama and arguments that occur later between felicity and he li hua and AHHH its so good the angst is crazy here #demise rambles

[aromanticbuck]

No pressure asking about that meta for Jay's exit and the song "She Calls Me Back" because I love your metas and I'm going to be trying to start the show on peacock this month!

First of all, I am thrilled for you to start CPD. Please message me with all of your thoughts. And, of course, when you get to the love of my life, Mouse. Seriously, I am here for all yelling and thoughts and babbles at all times. Unfortunately, I'm attached to this show and all of its characters - yes, even the ones I don't like. It's less that Voight has grown on me and more like... I can't wait to see how his story ends? Whether that means the end of the show or if he gets written out sooner than that. He fascinates me, but that's a different meta.

Jay's exit, though...

I have a lot of thoughts about Jay's exit in general, though I think my overall opinion of it seems to be unpopular? I loved 10x03 and the exit that Jay got, and all of the little details of it, and, because I'm me, how well it ties into how Mouse was written out six years ago. I don't agree with the general consensus that the episode was "bad" or that Jay was "out of character" or any of that. It was an hour of television that I genuinely really enjoyed, so I'll talk it up and praise it with every breath I take because oh my god.

(under the cut for babbles)

Look, I will admit that hearing about Jesse leaving the show worried me at first. They've been playing up the idea of Jay taking over Intelligence one day since season 6, I even had a theory about how Jay was going to become a sergeant and take over the team from Voight over the course of season 10 that I really did believe in. And then we got that headline, and it hurt. It was taking away this storyline I really, really wanted to see, and it was upsetting. But I came to terms with it, and that hurt didn't ruin my enjoyment of the episode by the time it aired, if that makes sense? And then the way they did it... wasn't a disservice to that idea they've been playing up for so long.

And the way they did it, which I still love so much, for every reason - wonderfully in character for Jay, the callbacks to Mouse (probably not intentional but I loved them anyway), the open ending so he can come back - really does consume my every waking thought. Kit and Cíara have heard a lot about my thoughts, however incoherent they might be at times, and however much my thoughts are just... Noah Kahan lyrics.

Because so much of my thoughts on this are just the bridge of She Calls Me Back on a loop. That kind of... stepping back from the what's expected, which was staying in Intelligence and eventually leading the team in a post-Voight era, and stepping into something familiar, which was going back to the army and kind of... marrying these two lives he's led. Jay is off in Bolivia, now, taking down cartels and stopping drugs from even hitting the streets in the first place. he's still Jay, trying to make the world a better place and doing things by the book, instead of changing himself to become Voight because he thinks he needs to take over one day.

Really, that's what was happening. A lot of season 9 was him (and Hailey) getting dragged into Voight's nonsense - covering up deaths, committing more felonies and covering those up, the things that Voight's been doing for the last decade plus that Jay has been trying to stop him from doing since the first season. I really appreciate that Jay's exit involved him looking at that path he was on, saying "I don't want to be this," and turning himself onto a different path that he actually wants to be on, you know? I love the autonomy that gives him, as a character? He saw this life he didn't like and found a way to stop living it, and I'm incredibly proud of him for that.

And the final scene he had with Hailey doesn't make me doubt their marriage or their love or their future at all. There's absolutely no doubt in my mind that Jay will take this time to himself, get through his eight months in Bolivia, and when he's back in Chicago he'll keep that autonomy that the narrative gave him, and he'll continue on a path that he wants to be in, instead of falling back into the path that he was kind of... put on? Because Voight told him he would take over one day, it wasn't like anyone asked Jay if he wanted that. It was just expected to happen. And I don't remember if it was a deleted scene or not (because I binged 4 seasons that week end everything blurred together) but immediately after that happened, Jay was stunned and confused and reached out to Hailey while trying to process the idea. i don't think he ever actually wanted to lead Intelligence, but I think the idea of it fed into his exit, in a way. He is leading his own team, in Bolivia, and calling the shots the way he wants to do it, on his own terms. And it's crazy to think that there are very few things in Jay's life that he's gotten to choose for himself, you know?

He enlisted in the army and then stayed there until he nearly died and didn't even have the option to stay in. He joined the police force and did what was expected of him until he climbed ranks to make detective. He chose Intelligence when he had the choice of where to go after a major bust (CFire s2), but I could write another essay about how he potentially only chose it because it was what everyone was aiming for. It was this elite team and he had the strings to pull to get on it - did he want to be there or did he feel like he was supposed to want to be there so that's what he thought he wanted? And then he was told that he would one day take over. Never asked. Then there was the case in 10x03, where he jumped in and took matters into his own hands, took the lead the way he would one day have to if he stayed on this track, and he realized where that would one day lead - to becoming Voight.

I really think that is why he left. And he chose every part of it. He got to make the choice to not become Voight, and to stay Jay, even if that meant stepping back from a life he built to figure out what changes he wanted to make.

Which (finally) brings me back to the bridge of SCMB:

all the pain I should have saved oh, I was too afraid of living life in your footsteps in your heart or in your head oh, I was too afraid of living life in your footsteps

Jay saw the footsteps he was following, and he could see far enough ahead to see where they ended, and he didn't want that. He didn't want the journey or the destination, so he changed it.

#answered #shae tag #lovelymysticmoon #jay halstead #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago #alex says things #this is a jay's exit supremacy account #his exit was so good actually i think about it constantly

[cyhyr]

There's Happiness Here, Chapter 2

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: Not Rated

Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/OFM, Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

WC: ~9361

Warnings: Choose Not to Warn (Because I don’t know yet what I will need to warn for)

Additional Tags: One Night Stands, Accidental Pregnancy, Identity Issues, Miscommunication, Panic Attacks, Unrequited Crush, Co-Parenting, Hatake Kakashi is Not Okay, but he’s doing his best, Cheating, Minor Character Death, Endgame KakaIru, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Hatake Kakashi-centric, One-Sided Relationship

A/N: Oops I apparently forgot to post Chapter 2 here?? Well, since I'm making a post for Chapter 3 anyway... here's Chapter 2 lol, only seven months late 😅😅😅

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~

“The answer is no, Kakashi.” 

Kakashi very nearly flinches, but manages to remain stoic. “Sandaime, please. I—” 

“I cannot have one of my best shinobi Village-bound for such a long time,” Sarutobi sighs, looking over the formal request scroll in front of him again. Kakashi went through the proper channels just this morning, filling out the paperwork and selecting several open positions within the Village. ANBU Trainer, Assistant to the Jōnin Commander, Cryptanalysis Specialist, T&I Specialist—he picked the hardest positions to fill, jobs he knew he could do well.  

But Sandaime, and the rest of the Council on either side of him, all unanimously agreed to deny him his transfer request. 

Kakashi tries just once more, “It would only be until the child is able to walk.” 

Utatane scoffs. “And this woman you impregnated is only eight weeks. This reassignment you’re suggesting could take anywhere from two years at the earliest to close to four years if the child is stunted.” She shakes her head. “No, this cannot happen. Konoha cannot be without you in the field for years at a time.” 

“I... I understand.” Kakashi nods. “In that case, I would like to put in my notice of parental leave for the three months following the birth of the child.” 

Danzō and Mitokado both start to balk, but Sandaime raises a hand to stop them both from speaking before they start. “The child is due in May?” 

“Late May, yes, Sandaime.” 

He smiles. “I will approve you to have the entire summer off, then, following the birth. Relax and enjoy such time with your child. They grow up so fast.” He then stamps the request scroll on the table in front of him and passes it back across the table to Kakashi. “All this aside, though, considering that you are here; I do have a mission for you. You’ll need to leave within the hour.” 

Sandaime takes another scroll, this one marked with an S on the front, and slides it across the table. Normally, Kakashi would snatch it up and read it quickly while being given his mission brief.  

However, today he hesitates. 

“I... The first sonogram appointment is this afternoon,” Kakashi says in a small voice. “I had told her I would be there.” 

Danzō huffs. “Duty comes first, Hatake. We live in a village of ninja; even if your woman is a civilian—” 

“She’s not,” Kakashi frowns, not liking how Danzō referred to Shizukana as his woman, but also not knowing how to politely tell him off for it. 

“Then she understands that the mission comes first,” Danzō finishes. 

Kakashi takes the scroll and reads it quickly. He’ll be away for three weeks, maybe as much as a month. And, indeed, he’ll need to leave quickly if he’s to get to his exchange point. He had truly hoped to be there for the appointment today, but Danzō has a point; Shizukana is a kunoichi and will understand. 

~ 

“What do you mean, ‘you have a mission’?” 

Kakashi sighs and rocks a little on his feet. He’s packed, otherwise ready to go; he has to leave in the next ten minutes if he’s going to make his cut-off, and if he doesn’t make it then the Village will only reassign the mission to him again in six months and that will be even closer to the due date.  

“I mean, I have to go. I can’t tell you anything more than that.” 

Shizukana frowns, her eyes wet. She hugs herself over her (for now, flat) stomach and nibbles at her lip. “But... but you said you’d be there. I need you there, Kakashi-kun.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I have an obligation to the Village.” 

“You have an obligation to this child, too,” she says, and a single tear slips out of the corner of her eye. She hastily wipes it away.  

He takes half a step forward and reaches for her hand before she can return it to its place around her own waist. “In doing my duty to the village,” he says, pressing their fingers together, hoping that the touch will help ground her; they’re on her doorstep, and it’s public, and gods knows he can’t handle a crying pregnant woman if she decides to bawl her eyes out here, “I am fulfilling my obligation to the child. They need a safe place to grow up, yes?” 

She sniffles and turns her hand to lace their fingers together. He lets her. “Yes,” she agrees. 

“This is how I provide that safe place,” he tries to assure her. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Here,” he pulls out a slip from his pocket, signed and dated already, and hands it to her. 

She takes it blindly, and then cocks her head aside, confused. “What is it?” 

“Access to my clan funds. Take out what you need, whatever you need. I had hoped to be able to sit down and talk out finances with you before this, but I might be gone for a while, and you may need... anyway, I don’t want you to be left wanting. And we’ll talk when I get back.” 

Shizukana giggles softly. “When?” 

He nods. It’s an S-rank, sure; but it’s mostly information gathering and not much on the assassination side. As long as he’s careful, he should make it back just fine. Before he turns to go, he asks one more thing, “Ah, Shizukana?” 

“Yes?” 

“Could you... hold off on announcing the pregnancy? Until I get back? It’s just,” he scrubs the back of his head sheepishly, “I have some friends that I’d like to tell personally, and I know that they’ll feel hurt if they hear of this through the grapevine.” 

Finally, for the first time since she opened the door to see him there, she smiles. “Of course, Kakashi-kun. I’ll hold off at least until I’m twenty weeks. That should give you plenty of time to come home, but I shouldn’t be showing before then. I’ll have to tell my chūnin captain, but other than that I’ll keep it to myself.” 

“Thank you,” he says, and turns to leave. 

“Oh, Kakashi-kun!” She stops him again. 

He very nearly groans. “Hmm?” 

She’s blushing as she asks, “Could I... get a good-bye kiss?” 

He blinks.  

“That’s... um...” There’s no one around, save for a few ANBU patrolling. He could be quick. But she... they’re not together, there’s no need for it, and he doesn’t really want to. She looks so sweet, shy, twisting the hem of her shirt in her fingers as she waits for his response. 

She’s carrying his child. The least he can do is acquiesce to her requests if they’re... reasonable.  

He ducks down and presses a masked kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs, and then flickers away. Hopefully, he won’t be late to his check-in for this blunder. 

~ 

It takes Kakashi three days to meet his contact in the small town of Miyatoro, on the border of Fire and Tea, and he nearly double-takes when he meets the girl because he knows he’s seen that same mischievous grin somewhere else before. But she is otherwise unassuming, and knows the code phrases for his mission, and so he meets up with her under the cover of purchasing an hour or so of her time and following her back to the room she has rented. 

Clothing falls away as he presses information signs into her skin under the guise of kissing and touching with much different purposes. She’ll say things like, “Oh, there,” and Kakashi can hear the question in her voice and repeats his signs.  

He doesn’t come, but he feels her shake apart underneath him. If she is truly a kunoichi then the least he can do for her is to give her a moment’s pause of pleasure within an otherwise unpleasant mission. And if the girl is just a civilian contracted to pass messages back to Konoha for him… well, even more so does she deserve a bit of respite.

He cleans her up and murmurs aloud, “We should do this again. Are you around for a few days?”

She nods and smirks. “Repeat customers get a discount.”

Kakashi chuckles and kisses her cheek. “Maybe I’ll just have you for longer next time.” He leaves her a few ryō and sees himself out. 

And so what if he finds himself hours later with his hand down the front of his pants imagining the way she gasped and threw her head back when she came; he has a shadow clone on watch, and his target has been asleep for hours.

~

Over the course of the mission he meets with the contact several times, always exchanging information via signs pressed into her body. By the third week he has become very familiar with her curves and scars, especially one in particular on her inner thigh that makes her sigh and writhe when he bites it. It’s a very unique scar—an almost perfect circle in faded white scar tissue. He almost asks her how she got it, but figures it’s not exactly proper pillow talk. 

The last time he’s supposed to meet with her, he goes to the alley where they normally meet and sees a young man standing there instead. He hesitates, but greets the man just the same as he would have his previous contact.

“Do you have the time?”

The man smiles and that same mischievous grin the previous contact wore flashes across his face. “For you, always.” 

Kakashi follows him to the hostel and finally catches the name on the room. Isozaki—an Uzushio name if he’s not mistaken. He closes the door behind them and presses the young man to the futon to send his last message. 

He kisses down the man’s body, parting fabric and searching for the scar to prove his hunch. He finds it on his thigh, a perfect circle a few fingers thick, and he licks it before kissing his way back up to the man’s ear. Very quietly, he murmurs, “Which pronouns do you prefer?”

“He and him, please,” comes the equally quiet reply.

“You make a stunning henge,” Kakashi chuckles, pressing his message into his skin. 

“Thank you,” he gasps. “You know this is a henge, too.”

“I know what I said,” Kakashi grins. “Stunning.” He kisses the young man’s chest as he continues his final message, and he ends up repeating himself twice over just for an excuse to keep touching him. 

He had created a nice henge of a woman in the weeks previous, but there’s something so lovely about this that Kakashi can’t quite get enough of. They grind together, grasp at each other; and Kakashi mouths at his neck and shoulder until the man gasps and clutches him tightly as he comes between them. 

Kakashi leans back just a little bit, to watch the last spurts of cum drip out of his cock, and he sighs, “Beautiful,” before taking himself in hand and adding to the mess on the man’s stomach. He’s still stuck watching, enraptured, as the man swirls a finger through their combined mess and then lifts it to his mouth to lick the cum off. He snatches the man’s wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth, growling playfully, “Don’t; I need to leave soon and I can’t be late.”

The young man laughs and relaxes, and Kakashi lets him go as he stands up. He cleans them both, and then redresses before moving to the window. He glances back at his contact one last time to see him also redressing, smiling softly at Kakashi’s retreat; he waves Kakashi on, and says something soft and sweet, but in some other language that Kakashi doesn’t understand.

“What—?”

He shakes his head, “Just go,” he chuckles. “You can’t keep being late, remember?”

Kakashi nods, gives him one final wave and salute, and then slips out into the night to head back to Konoha. 

~

Once back in the Village and having turned in his report, Kakashi hunts down the first of the few people he needs to tell about… everything. He finds Tenzō in the ANBU mess hall, sharing lunch with another of Kakashi’s squadmates. They both are leaning in close together, chatting quietly, and Kakashi waits on the edge of their conversation until Tenzō  looks up at him and gives him a signal to approach. 

“Sempai,” Tenzō nods, smiling. “Come and sit, please!”

Kakashi shuffles a little, “Actually, I was hoping to just talk to you.”

Tenzō’s face falters just a bit, but beside him, Otter—Rakko, they’re not in their mask right now—just shoulders him playfully. “Go on, I’ll meet you later.”

“You’re sure?” Tenzō asks, and Kakashi watches Rakko roll their eyes and stand up. They pick up their gear from the bench beside where they had been sitting, a medkit and small weapons pouch, and lightly drag their fingers along Tenzō ’s shoulders as they walk away with a grin.

Kakashi sits down and leans over the table. “When did that happen?” he asks quietly.

Tenzō flushes. “Nothing’s happened,” he says. “We’re just… they’re just naturally flirty, I think.”

“Otter was on my team too,” Kakashi grins. “And they never were like that with me.”

“Stop,” Tenzō whines, putting his head down. “They’re my subordinate. I can’t.”

“Alright, alright. But you can always request a transfer, for yourself or for them.”

Tenzō grumbles under his breath, and Kakashi doesn’t catch what he says and he doesn’t bother asking. He sighs; and then, louder, he says, “You didn’t come here to comment on my… on Rakko and me. What’s up?”

Kakashi falters. Stammers, starts and stops again, until after a minute of false starts he just sighs and whispers, “I got a girl pregnant. She has to keep it. I’m… going to have a child.”

Tenzō blinks slowly at him and then lights up in a bright smile. “That’s—that’s good news, right? Are you happy about this? Can I be happy for you? I would like to be happy for you, Sempai.”

He chuckles and nods. “I’m not thrilled, because it was an accident. But yes, I suppose the coming of any child should be celebrated, huh?”

“I can’t… because of…” Tenzō doesn’t finish his thoughts, but Kakashi understands. He continues smiling. “I would like to meet your child when they’re born, and to help in whatever way I can. I could make you a crib when the time comes to furnish a nursery?��

Kakashi fights down the rising bile at the thought of putting together a nursery, because they’re still in the ANBU mess hall and even though a lot of people have left since he sat down, there are still stragglers and he can’t risk a panic attack here. Instead he just nods and tightens his fists against his thighs until it hurts, until he can distract himself from the gross feeling of his stomach turning over and over and over again. 

It doesn’t fool Tenzō. “We can talk more about it when the time comes,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me. Who else knows?”

“Beside you?” Kakashi waits for a nod, and then mutters, “Her captain, the Council, and Iruka-sensei.”

Tenzō leers and chuckles briefly. “Iruka-sensei? When did that happen?”

Kakashi pales. “He’s not—we’re not—he has a boyfriend! He just happened to be working the Desk and I…”

The leering subsides and Tenzō softens. “Alright. So neither of us can have who we want, for whatever reasons.”

“That’s not—”

Tenzō waves him off. “I have to meet my squad. And you should, too, soon. When are you back in rotation?”

Kakashi shrugs. “Probably within the week. I guess I’ll talk to you later. Stay careful; or not, I suppose, what with Rakko being your medic.” He stands up and leaves the mess hall quickly, Tenzō gaping and sputtering after him. That was probably mean, but his kohai needs a push here and there or he’ll never let himself find happiness. There’s only enough room in this friendship for one of them to be so self-sabotaging. 

~

Shizukana passes into the second trimester with no medical issues, and it’s as the first snow begins to fall in early December that Kakashi sits down with her, sweet tea and her latest craving of pickled asparagus placed on the table, and asks what it is she wants from him.

She stops with a spear of asparagus halfway to her mouth and cocks her head aside, confused. “What do you mean?”

He holds in his sigh, trying to remain stoic. Calm. “I mean, are you looking for a co-parent? A financial beneficiary? Any child of mine has a chance of being… difficult, in a manner of speaking, and I’m more than willing to help train and teach the child when they’re of age if you’d rather I not be otherwise involved—”

Shizukana aggressively bites the vegetable in half and chews quickly, a finger held up on her opposite hand. Once she’s swallowed, she says, “Kakashi-kun, I thought it was already decided that we were in this together?”

“Well, yes. But I really need to know what manner of together you, as the birthing parent—”

“Mother.”

Kakashi stops, clears his throat, “Mother, if that’s what you would prefer then, alright. As the mother, what manner of together you want.”

She frowns. “It’s not really about what I want though,” she says. “It’s about what the child needs.”

His stoicism breaks and he hums thoughtfully, contemplating. “I have to admit that I don’t know much about what children need, and have only been thinking about how best to do this right for you. Could you explain what you mean?”

“Well,” she picks up another asparagus and wiggles it in her fingers, “They need stability. Children should have two healthy, loving parents; a steady, warm, consistent place to call home—with room to grow and the flexibility to shift and stretch if they need it. Gentle, but strong hands to catch them if they falter, but guide them through to adulthood to become good, independent members of society; those hands are ours, Kakashi-kun.” She nibbles at the asparagus and waits a moment to chew and swallow before finishing, “What I want is for us to raise this child together, as a family, just as my parents had raised me: with love and support from both my mother and father.”

Kakashi suppresses the urge to run, and instead twists his fingers in the fabric of his trousers while he turns this information over in his head. 

A family. That’s what Shizukana wants, and what this child needs, and if he’s to give them both that then he… he would have to settle down. Truly, he would need to find a place to raise a child and house this girl; meet her parents and family; possibly, someday, even marry her. He doesn’t want that. He… he’s not ready for that kind of commitment. 

And yet.

Shizukana eats more of the pickled asparagus and drinks the sweet tea and lays her palm over her belly, not quite swollen but maybe the slightest bit bloated. He doesn’t know anything about children—he supposes that they’re quite similar to puppies in that they’re mostly helpless for a time after birth, that maybe (hopefully) they’re somewhat cute, that they shit relentlessly and eat messily. This whole idea that they need love and stability has merit though, when Kakashi looks at the multitude of ninja he’s worked with who have lost one or both parents and are emotionally broken.

He doesn’t want that for his child. If nothing else, he wants to be around to see them grow up; but at best, he would like to be involved in their upbringing the way that Shikaku has raised his son. It does seem to be the best option. 

The issue, of course, is the problem of his work. ANBU will take him out of the Village for weeks at a time on missions, regardless of his status as a new parent; and the Council has already ruled on his request for reassignment.

“Kakashi-kun?”

“Hmm?”

Shizukana sets her tea down and lightly taps her fingers on the edge of the table. “You… you’re taking a very long time to think about this. I didn’t think it needed so much thought…”

Kakashi, finally, rubs his palm over his good eye and groans. “It’s not… my thoughts are quite unorganized at the moment. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

She smiles softly, just a quirk of her lips. “So then… we can do this? Together?”

“We were always going to do it together,” he says. He places his hands back on his lap and pinches his thigh to keep himself present and to bottle down the rising anxiety. “But, ah, yes. We can… your version of ‘together’, I suppose, does make the most… sense.”

She squeals, claps her hands together. “Oh, yes! I’m so glad you agree!”

He swallows carefully, not wanting to burst her good mood; if the book he had managed to read about pregnancy held any merit, mood swings will be inevitable, but he will do what he can to ease them. And yet the idea of together still makes him queasy.

“So then… what now? What next?”

She hums thoughtfully. He watches her think, relieved that she is actually taking his concern seriously. But then she says, “I… I’m not sure. We’re going about this all in the wrong order,” she ends with an embarrassed sort of chuckle. “I would think that you should come to meet my family, so that they’ll know the father of their grandchild. And then we should look into housing. My apartment is nice, but it’s not really a place to raise a child; and you're still living in the jonin barracks, yes?”

Kakashi nods. He’d already looked into this. He tells her as much, that they could have any house in the village, within moderation. “I don’t want something ostentatious,” he says as an explanation. “Perhaps something with room for all three of us, with a nice yard.”

Her eyes light up and she leans over the edge of the table eagerly. “In a good neighborhood?”

“I was thinking somewhere close to the Academy, yes,” he responds. “Maybe between there and the Nara compound?”

She nods. “That sounds wonderful! We could go looking in a couple days. I actually have a small mission starting tomorrow—”

Kakashi stiffens. “What? They’re sending you out?”

“Well, yes. I’m still fit and able to work. My captain hasn’t given me orders to come off of active duty yet.”

“But. What if… what if something happens?”

Shizukana softens and comes around the side of the table to sit beside him. She takes his hand and places it on her belly and he nearly winces at the surge of chakra he can feel jump under his palm. It’s not much, but it’s more than Shizukana herself is able to produce. “My team is under strict orders to keep me safe,” she says. “And if anything bad happens, then… that’s the risk I have accepted as a kunoichi of Konohagakure. The same as you.”

“But if something happens to me, it’s just me,” Kakashi argues softly. “If something happens to you, the child…”

He’s not sure why he’s feeling like this. He doesn’t want this child anyway, this relationship, this together—if something were to take Shizukana out while she were on mission this coming week, it would be better for him in the long run, wouldn’t it? 

But…

He would always wonder.

“It’s alright,” she says. “I won’t be taking missions after I start showing. My captain says I can apply to work at the Mission Desk.”

Mission Desk.

Iruka.

If he does this, this relationship—together, with Shizukana, for as long as it takes to raise this kid—his chance with Iruka slips away completely. Sure, Iruka is taken currently, seeing that other chūnin (Mizaku? Misako? Whatever), but he’s sure he isn't imagining the way that Iruka blushes when they talk, or the interest in his eyes.

He wonders if things could have been different, had he had the wherewithal to ask Iruka out. If Iruka would have said yes. What could have happened if he hadn’t ignored that drop of liquid on Iruka’s lip that night and instead had stalked over to his table and licked it up himself?

If he hadn’t held open the door for Shizukana to follow him out into the night.

But that’s not what happened, he reminds himself with a very subtle shake of his head, and instead lifts his gaze back to the woman before him. To his real life. No time for what-ifs or would-haves.

And ultimately, there is truly no choice to make at all.

“I know someone at the Mission Desk who can help you out when the time comes,” Kakashi offers. “In the meantime, I’d like you to write down what you want out of a house so that I can narrow down a few choices. When you get back, we’ll look at the final few and select one. I’d like to be moved in and closed on the property before the end of your second trimester.”

Shizukana smiles so wide and flings her arms around his shoulders with a happy sound. She kisses his cheek, and he holds her around her waist. They finish their tea together, and he leaves within the hour to wander the streets for the rest of the night, hoping he made the right choice for himself.

~

He doesn’t get the chance to tell Gai for weeks and weeks, as their mission schedules keep clashing in such a way that he doesn’t see the man until well into the second trimester. 

Kakashi settles on a house close to the Academy with Shizukana. The realtor showing the house tells her conspiratorially, “Four bedrooms in this place, too; very spacious.”

Shizukana turns and smiles wide at him, saying, “Kakashi-kun! Room to grow!!”

He just nods, knees a little weak and stomach about to turn over. He keeps his mouth shut for fear of throwing up. One child is more than enough. She loves the house, and he certainly doesn’t mind it. A room for her, one for the child, a separate one for guests or for use as a playroom, and one for him—just because he’s entering into this together-thing, doesn’t mean he’s going to give up his right to privacy quite yet. 

They sign the paperwork together, Kakashi as the primary deed owner and Shizukana as the secondary. He formally puts her name on the bank account he set up for the child, one that he promises to her that he will deposit a significant amount of his own pay into for her own use. She smiles at that and tells him that she also will put her own money into that same account. 

All the while, he sees Tenzō at the ANBU training ground and puts on a grimacing smile for him and Rakko, who Tenzō clearly had also told. He sees Iruka around the village with his boyfriend and pretends not to notice the dullness behind his eyes or the way that Iruka still holds his gaze whenever they meet. He takes Shizukana furniture shopping and arranges for movers to collect their things from their separate apartments.

~

Gai isn’t expected back in the Village until almost February, he eventually finds out. Iruka is the one to tell him, after he quietly asks one day if there’s been any updates from Gai’s team about his current mission.

“Ah, I see,” Kakashi responds, disappointed. 

“I’m sorry, Kakashi-san,” Iruka says. “But the good news is that there are no casualties as of yet.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he says. “Gai is a good shinobi, and he’ll make sure that his team makes it home. It’s just that…” He trails off, not knowing yet if he wants to really say much more, because he’s still not sure how he feels about this.

“What is it?” Iruka prods. “The room is empty, and it likely will remain so for some time; no one likes coming in this early on a weekend except for you, apparently,” he chuckles.

Kakashi’s heart stutters a little, wondering if he’s been found out, that Iruka has caught on that he comes this early just to see him. But the young man before him just looks up at him earnestly and holds out his hand to the chair on his side of the desk, motioning that Kakashi could sit beside him and just talk… if he’d like.

Gods, would he like.

He shuffles around and slumps into the chair, hands still shoved deep into his pockets. “Shizukana has another ultrasound appointment today. She’s going to ask the technician to determine the sex of the fetus.”

Iruka turns a little to face him and grins. “But that’s so exciting! You’ll finally know what you’re having!”

Kakashi sighs heavily. “I know what we’re having. We're having a child, and I will raise them the same regardless. It’s just… I wanted to be surprised,” he admits. He rolls his neck and watches the excitement fall from Iruka’s face the same way it had from Shizukana’s last night when he’d said the same thing. Was it truly such an odd position to take?

But Iruka’s upset turns to thoughtfulness and instead of the crying mess his… whatever-she-is turned into because of her pregnancy hormones, Iruka hums and says, “I can understand that. I’ve also read that it’s one of the few surprises new parents can keep for themselves.” Kakashi nods, “Yes, exactly!”

“But I assume that Shizukana-san doesn’t understand your position?”

He groans. “She started sobbing that I was taking the joy out of her pregnancy, that she should be allowed to find happiness wherever she wants it. And I do agree, it’s her body and such, but it’s also my child and we’ve decided to do this together and… and I just want this one thing, and it feels so small compared to everything else.”

“That seems like a fair argument to me. But, Shizukana-san is also from a civilian family, yes? They’re quite traditional?”

Wince. He met them exactly once, three weeks ago, for all of five minutes before they kicked him out for “spoiling” their daughter. “To say the least,” he murmurs.

“I would think that what you’re asking for is indeed quite a small deal,” Iruka says. “I also understand that Shizukana-san also wants to run this pregnancy her way, the way she always assumed she would be able to do so. And if that means finding out the gender—”

“Sex. Gender isn’t…”

Iruka nods. “Right, sex. The sex of the baby. Then, she should be allowed to know, I would think. It’s tricky when you don’t agree,” he hums thoughtfully. 

A tapping at the window stops Kakashi from responding, and he looks up to see an ANBU waiting there with a scroll in hand. He freezes, pales; he can’t take another mission today, not when he’s supposed to go to the appointment with Shizukana this afternoon. The ANBU steps in through the window and nods to him, and Kakashi makes to stand up; but beside him, Iruka stiffens.

“Again?”

The ANBU seems to droop a little. “I’m sorry, sensei. But yes, the Hokage is requesting your skills on a mission.”

Iruka? He’s supposed to remain in the village, a teacher; he’s not supposed to go on assignment anymore.

“How long?”

“I was not privy to that information. You need to speak with Sandaime.”

Iruka groans. “No, how long do I have before I need to report? I can’t leave the Desk unmanned and I don’t get a second person here for another hour at least.”

“Sandaime said immediately. Leave whatever you were doing. I’ll shut down the Desk.”

He frowns and turns to Kakashi. “Duty calls. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

“You were plenty helpful,” Kakashi assures him. “I thought you weren’t active anymore though?”

“I have… a very specific skillset,” Iruka blushes lightly. “I get sent out a lot more than you’d think, even after my discussion with Sandaime about not being cut out for field work. Hopefully it’ll stop once I get assigned my own class in April.”

They both stand up together and head to the door, trading places with the ANBU, who begins working to shut down the Desk for the hour or so until the next worker comes in. They slip out into the hallway, and Iruka turns to head up the stairs three floors to the Hokage’s office.

Kakashi flicks out his hand and grabs Iruka’s shoulder before he slips out of reach. He stops, startled, and turns back around with a confused hum. “What is it?”

They’re too close. His hand is still on Iruka’s shoulder. He can’t seem to stop touching. There’s so much warmth radiating from underneath Iruka’s flak jacket. Iruka’s eyes bore into his own, too honest, too sweet, too—

“Just… be careful. Please.”

Iruka grins. “And you as well.” He doesn’t step away until Kakashi drops his hand, and he smiles all the way until he turns around to go up the stairs. Even over his shoulder, he waves to Kakashi and says, “If I can, I’ll write.”

Kakashi watches him go and feels something ache inside of him, but once he’s out of sight and up the stairs, he turns and leaves to go home to Shizukana and get ready to go to the appointment to see his child’s outline for the first time.

~

Shizukana grins and reaches for his hand as Kakashi sits beside her in the darkened room underneath the hospital. “I’m so glad you can make it this time,” she says excitedly.

He gulps, nods; he hasn’t trusted himself to speak since they entered the prenatal clinic together. The technician squirts some kind of lubricant onto Shizukana’s belly, and Kakashi resists wrinkling his nose at the chemical smell of it. She squeezes his hand and gasps a little, and he lifts his gaze to the screen beside the technician, and—

It’s…

“Oh, there’s your little one,” the technician says. “Twenty-three weeks.”

He narrows his eye a little bit while Shizukana coos at the image. It’s just a black and white outline. It’s moving. Constantly moving, tiny limbs jumping and waving here and there. There’s a bulbous side that should be the head, but it’s so oddly shaped that there’s no way that it’ll be a baby in another seventeen weeks. It looks weird.

What is he supposed to feel right now?

Shizukana is looking at him with growing concern, and Kakashi only has a rising dread that he’s doing this wrong again.

The technician, though, saves him. “It’s a little overwhelming the first time, huh? Here,” she points to the image, “here’s the arms and legs, they’re curved around their tummy, this is the head. These dark spots, those are the eyes, don’t worry about it, it's just the way the machine picks it up. From what I can see initially, the baby looks like they’re developing just fine.”

He looks at it again, carefully, and now, with the technician’s guidance, he can see—it could be, if he turns his head just so and really thinks about it—his child. That’s his baby, flapping their little hand nubs and stretching the pieces of spine that they’ve developed so far. He helped to make that. 

His head kinda feels loose, and his chest is tight, and he blurts out, “It kinda looks like a puppy.”

The tech laughs, the ultrasound wand shaking in her hand, and Shizukana huffs lightly beside him. He looks down at her, wincing, but she is still smiling and holding his hand and he figures that while he might have said something wrong, she still found it somewhat amusing.

“Can we find out the gender of the baby today?” Shizukana asks.

Kakashi starts, “Ah, no thank—”

But the technician goes on, ignoring him completely. “Of course. It’s a boy; congratulations!”

Shizukana lights up upon hearing those words and she turns to him and squeals, “Kakashi-kun! A son!! We’re going to have a son!!”

Kakashi nods, her delight in those words infectious. He still sits there, though, quiet and somber as the technician finishes up with her scan and then gives Shizukana a cloth which she uses to wipe up the excess gel on her stomach. 

Shizukana kisses his cheek, over his mask, as she scurries off to the restroom to relieve herself. The technician smiles at them both, and then once the restroom door is shut, says, “This is your first child then, Hatake-san?”

“Ah, yes.” He doesn’t continue with hopefully the last, too, but it’s a fleeting thought that brushes his mind.

“Would you like a print-out?”

He blinks, confused at first, but the technician is motioning to the screen that has still images of his child’s outline—the sonograms themselves. And the one on the screen shows the entire fetus from head to feet, his son’s little arms curled up under his chin. At this stage of development, a fetus can suck its thumb, can kick and wave its limbs, can hear…

He nods rapidly, and she hands him the print. He holds it reverently in his fingers and touches the line of his son’s forehead. His son. 

He’s going to have a son.

The thought terrifies him, overwhelms him, and yet he can’t help but be excited for the first time since finding out. What will his child call him? Will he be born healthy? Will he be a fighter, like Kakashi; or sweet and charming like his mother? When should Kakashi give him the Hatake summoning contract?

Shizukana comes out of the restroom and stands beside him. He hadn’t even noticed that he had collapsed to sit heavily on the examination bed, still staring at the sonogram. She puts her hand on his shoulder, smiles, and says, “We have a lot to do to get ready, huh?”

Kakashi can only agree. He follows her out, tucking the print away in one of his vest pockets.

~

At the turn of the third trimester, Kakashi and Shizukana formally move into their new house together, and Shizukana is confused why there are three bedrooms being made up instead of just two. Kakashi has the movers put her things in the master bedroom, one with an ensuite bathroom and two large walk-in closets; but his own personal effects, he has the movers place in the bedroom at the other end of the house, down the hallway and just nextdoor to what will become his son’s nursery. 

She pulls him aside, out onto the back porch for privacy, and quietly asks him, “Why are you not putting your things in the master bedroom?”

Kakashi just blinks, also suddenly confused. “I… figured that it would be kinder for you to have the larger space, given that we’ve already discussed your desire to remain home to raise the child until they—he, sorry—is old enough to attend the Academy.”

Shizukana frowns, crosses her arms. “You don’t want to share a room with me?”

He takes a single step backwards. “I’m not… I can’t. I can’t share a bed with someone else.” The last time he’d tried, Gai had nearly taken a kunai to the throat for daring to roll over and put his arm over Kakashi’s waist; and that instance of bed-sharing had been purely platonic. If he were to share with Shizukana…

Her face falls, the frown slipping from one of anger-upset to one of rejection. “You think I’m gross and ugly like this, don’t you? Bloated and fat and swollen like a-a—”

“No! No, not at all,” Kakashi hurries to reassure her, as the first wave of tears collect in her eyes. “I mean. No. No, Shizu-chan, you’re not gross or ugly. You’re pregnant, and you have a lot of strange hormones right now and it’s normal to feel this range of emotion—”

Shizukana cries softly, covering her face in her palms, “My child’s father doesn’t even want to touch me anymore, I’m a whale.”

He sighs and takes her wrists and pulls her hands away from her face as he finishes, “But it’s not alright for you to put yourself down like this. You are bigger than you once were—because you are carrying our child, and there are physiological changes that come with that, but those changes don’t have to stay forever. And regardless of how you look, you are creating life within you, the next generation to inherit the Will of Fire, and that is something to be proud of, not to put yourself down about.”

She sniffles and tries to smile, but through her hiccupping tears, says, “You still don’t want to share a bed with me, though?”

Kakashi drops their hands slowly and steps back again, runs his fingers through his hair, and says, “I have… I have hurt bed partners in the past. I would never forgive myself if I… while I was asleep…”

She wipes her face with the back of her hand and nods. “Okay. I understand. But… maybe someday?”

Kakashi holds back the groan, and instead allows her to believe, “Maybe.” What damage can hope do, anyway? 

They go back inside together and continue managing the movers.

~

Gai returns to Konoha with his team, battered, bruised, but alive, almost a month after they were due. Kakashi very nearly gives in to his urge to go and find his room in the hospital and never ever leave it for the fear that Gai might leave again and then not return at all. He does eventually go and meet with Gai when he gets news that he’s back on the jonin rotation.

By now, most of the Village has been made aware that Hatake Kakashi has impregnated a girl and is living with her. But most people don’t broadcast that they know because Sandaime has made it quite clear that this sort of information is the type to attract kidnappers, and so the Village is on an information diet, of sorts.

Kakashi slips into the jōnin  standby station to see Gai in the middle of writing out a report of some kind. There’s no one else in the room, which means that either no one else showed up for duty or they’ve all responded to calls around the village already and Gai is the only one left. 

“Ah, Kakashi! It’s good to see you!” 

Kakashi just nods in return. “You were out for a long time. Can I ask if everything went well in the end?”

Gai’s face darkens. “Two of my teammates were taken, and neither my last teammate nor myself could seem to infiltrate the enemy’s defenses to get them back. We had to wait for an extraction team to meet us and then go to bring them out.”

“But the team came and your teammates were freed, yes?” Kakashi asks, sitting down beside Gai.

He chuckles, and there’s no humor in his voice. “Konoha sent us one ninja, and I’ll admit I had my doubts that they would succeed. But all five of us made it home, and our original mission is complete.”

Kakashi wonders who Sandaime could have sent. Solo operatives are rare, especially within infiltration fields.

“But enough about me! What have you been getting up to?” Gai asks, brightening with each word. 

Kakashi toys with the idea of telling him now, when he’s still clearly reeling from the self-imposed shame of having to rely on an extractor to get his team out of a bad situation. But ultimately, this is what he came to tell Gai in the first place. So, he takes a deep breath and says, “I’m going to have a son. He’s due at the end of May.”

Gai watches him with narrowed eyes for a moment, and then Kakashi watches as his face blooms with glee and he bursts out, “MY DEAREST RIVAL MY HEART OVERFLOWS WITH HOT BLOODED JOY AT THE NEWS OF YOUR IMPENDING FATHERHOOD!! THERE IS NO BETTER CAUSE THAN TO SHEPHERD THE NEW GENERATION OF YOUTH THROUGH CHILDREN!!”

He grasps Kakashi in a tight, full-bodied embrace and Kakashi can feel the life squeezing out of his good eye as he wheezes, “Gai, Gai put me down please—”

“I AM SO OVERCOME WITH JOY AND HAPPINESS FOR YOU.”

“Yes, well, can you be overcome and still not crush my rib cage, please?”

Gai sets him down quickly, and then starts going off about The Future and Youth and asking when he will meet the sweet dear lady who has swept his Dear Rival into agreeing to fatherhood. The longer Gai goes on, the more Kakashi’s anxiety rises, until he’s just short of being a shaking mess in the station.

That, of course, is when Gai finally stops and studies Kakashi’s downward gaze and asks, “Kakashi, is this… this coming child of yours… is this not a Good Thing?”

To that, Kakashi can only shrug. “It’s a thing that I’ve accepted is happening, but that I otherwise cannot seem to get myself excited for. If that makes sense.”

Gai turns thoughtful and hums. “Ah. That would make accepting other’s excitement also quite difficult.”

Kakashi nods. “Tenzō—I’ve had you meet Tenzō, right?—was also cautiously excited for it when I told him. You would have been the first to know,” Kakashi admits sheepishly, “but you were on that mission. So I’m sorry, but you are the last to know.”

Gai waves him off. “I’m just so proud to be among those you consider close enough to be told directly. And I truly cannot wait to meet your son! Do you and your—er, wife? Girlfriend? Partner?”

Kakashi gulps. “Friend, for now. Just friend.”

“Friend! Do the two of you have ideas for names yet?”

“No, no, I… not yet. I haven’t even thought to ask, actually. I’ll… I should go and do that soon. Tonight. Now, if possible.”

Gai gives him a bright, blinding grin. “When you’ve decided upon a name, please let me know! I would love to find your son something personalized, with his name inscribed on it.”

Kakashi smiles softly and nods. “That… that sounds wonderful. Thank you. When we’ve decided on a name, you’ll be the first to know.”

~

It’s late, well past the time when Shizukana should have fallen fast asleep, when Kakashi is awoken by a soft creak of his floorboards and the door to his bedroom clicking open. He sits up in bed and turns on his bedside lamp, sees Shizukana shyly standing in his doorway, twisting her nightgown in her fingers.

Of all the things the prenatal books and appointments prepared him for, this wasn’t one of them. The cravings he can work with, he doesn’t mind fetching her weird foods and hunting down pickled asparagus at all hours. Swollen ankles and feet he’s happy to rub for her; he’s bought her expensive pillows and lotions for her stretch marks that she asked him for. 

But she stands in his doorway at night now, biting her lip and whining, “Please, please, Kakashi-kun,” and the increased sex drive throws him completely. He doesn’t know how to handle this.

The first time it happened, three days after they moved in together, he offered to buy her any toys or “aids” she’d like, and she broke down sobbing about how hideous she was and how the father of her child couldn’t even bear to touch her. He ended up giving in that first night, as he has for many subsequent nights, hurriedly backtracking and swearing that she wasn’t hideous and it wasn’t that he couldn’t… 

Gods, it was just that he didn’t want to.

But how do you say that to the woman carrying your child, whom you’ve agreed to co-parent, and even cohabitate with?

It’s not fair to her, and it’s not hard to satisfy her, not really. Sometimes she’s plenty happy with just his fingers taking her apart slow and steady. Sometimes she asks him to eat her out and he does, though he goes through the motions much more efficiently. 

Tonight, like a few other nights recently, he lets her climb into his lap and she’s heavy and swollen but her moans are sweet and her cunt is warm and wet as she rocks against him until he has little choice but to react and get hard. She very nearly screams when she finally gets his cock seated inside of her, and she doesn’t really have the leverage to be able to bounce but he gives her a little ride by thrusting his hips gently in time with her rolling her hips back and forth.

“So good, Kakashi, your cock is wonderful, feels so good—”

Kakashi holds her hips tight while she shakes apart on top of him and it feels amazing but it’s not… 

He bucks his hips up a few times and groans tightly, hoping that it’s true that she likely won’t be able to tell that he just faked his orgasm, already feeling his dick start to go limp now that she’s dismounted and happily curled up against his chest.

To the quiet room, Kakashi asks, “Have you been thinking of names?”

Shizukana hums and smiles against his pec. “I have. I was thinking of Ren.”

Kakashi stiffens for a half second, almost positive that she just said—but no, Ren. Ren is… “How would you write that?”

“‘A Pure Heart’,” Shizukana sighs. “I’ve always found it lovely. What do you think?” Kakashi thinks about it a bit. Hatake Ren sounds nice; maybe it doesn’t have the same ring as his own name, but it’s… sweet. “I agree,” he says. “Ren is nice.” He slides out from underneath her and rolls over so he’s hovering over her belly and whispers into her skin, “Ren?”

He gets a kick in the cheek for his trouble. Both he and Shizukana chuckle. 

He says it again, this time in an almost playful voice, “Ren.”

He gets kicked twice for that one. Almost like his son is trying to tell him to let him sleep. Kakashi crawls his way back up to the pillows and lets Shizukana curl up against him and fall back asleep.

~

Kakashi waits patiently for Iruka’s letters, but they never come. He must be in deep cover, and Kakashi tries to not worry so much because he knows that Iruka must be very competent indeed to be personally requested by Sandaime for missions. And yet, he can’t help but check in with the hospital, with the Gates, the Mission Desk, with anyone who could possibly give him information and updates on Iruka’s status.

He’s strolling the Village with one week to go before Ren’s due date when the tiny Otter-masked ANBU flickers into place beside him. “Umino-sensei reported in,” they say quietly. “Hospital, room 417. Be discreet; no one outside of his care team is supposed to know, but he asked for you.”

Kakashi nods subtly, and when Otter flickers away he tucks his book back in his pouch and flies to the hospital. It takes him a few minutes to find the window for room 417, but once he does he walks up the side of the wall and taps on the window before letting himself in. He hopes Otter wasn’t lying when they said that Iruka had asked for him…

Iruka is hooked up to fluids and a heart monitor, dressed in hospital scrubs with his hair down around his shoulders. He’s sitting upright in bed writing a report with his nondominant hand, as his left arm is the one with the IV in it. He looks up when Kakashi enters the room and closes the window, and smiles, although the smile itself is weak.

“You came,” Iruka says softly, and Kakashi can hear the strain in his voice. 

“Otter came to find me. Are you alright?”

Iruka shrugs. “I could be better. I didn’t need extraction at least, but I wasn’t able to get all the information I was required to collect before having to exit.”

“Do you… do this kind of mission often?”

“Not often. I won’t be required to go back into that group for quite some time, even with my skillset.” 

“What… happened? To your voice?”

Iruka flushes. “I’d rather not say,” he murmurs. “Suffice to say, ah, lots of screaming.”

Kakashi feels a wave of rage rise in his chest, but he tamps it down quickly. He goes and sits beside Iruka’s bed. Iruka rolls up the mission report he had been working on—high-clearance, then.

“Oh, I… how was the scan? How is the baby? Shizukana-chan has… ah, two more weeks, right?”

Kakashi brightens, opens his pocket and pulls out the sonogram print he’s kept clean and neat since he got it months ago. “One week, actually,” he says. “Practically any day now.”

Iruka takes the picture and grins as he studies it. “They’re gonna be beautiful, Kakashi-san, I know it.”

“Ren,” Kakashi says. “His name is going to be Ren.”

“Oh!” Iruka clears his throat and reaches for the water on the bedside table. Kakashi helps him, makes sure he doesn’t bend his left elbow too much to keep from aggravating the IV needle, and then sets the cup back down when Iruka’s down with it. “You decided to find out the sex after all?”

Kakashi feels everything begin to dim as he remembers how he was completely ignored during the scan, the days leading up to it, how he’d wanted it to remain a surprise. “Shizukana really wanted to know, and it’s not like she could just keep that kind of information to herself…”

Iruka is quiet, staring at him for a long time, long enough that it starts to feel uncomfortable, until he finally grits out, “And you’re okay with it?”

“I… well, it’s not like I can change it. Time-travel jutsu are messy at best and forbidden for a reason,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke.

Iruka doesn’t laugh.

He does sigh, and then he says, “Ren. Hatake Ren?” 

Kakashi nods. 

And then Iruka gives him a small smile. “He’s healthy, as far as the scans can tell?”

“Yes, and he kicks all the time and he moves and rolls and,” Kakashi pulls out another print from his pocket, “look. The technician managed to get one of him sucking his thumb.”

Iruka looks on and his smile broadens. “I can’t wait to meet him. Please, let me know when you and Shizukana-san are ready for visitors. I’m more than willing to babysit whenever the two of you need it as well. I can’t cook for shit, but I used to spend a lot of my free time in the infant and toddler rooms in the orphanage when I stayed there after the Kyūbi attack.”

Kakashi nods. “Thank you, so much. It’ll be nice for him to know his teacher so well from such a young age.”

“Or it’ll be a curse,” Iruka chuckles softly, “and he’ll be a horrible menace in my class.”

~

His son comes in the middle of the night, a new moon, and he’s quiet like his mother with a cap of silver fuzz like his father. Ren is tiny when the midwife gives him to Kakashi to hold—he can hold his son in one arm, gods, he’s perfect—and Shizukana looks so happy and peaceful when he gives Ren to her so she can feed him.

Ren grizzles like any other infant, the midwife assures him, but doesn’t much cry. When he’s done taking his first feed, one of the assistants shows Kakashi how to put a diaper on the newborn to keep him from shitting everywhere, and how to swaddle Ren properly, tight but not too tight.

Shizukana passes out, exhausted from the labor and the breastfeeding. Kakashi paces the room with his son in his arms until the sun comes up and thinks to himself, this is what bliss is. 

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Tips appreciated 💛

#my writing #Hatake Kakashi #Kakashi/ofc #kakairu #umino iruka #kid fic

[secondratefiction]

South Park K2 starter that never got off the ground

(Kyles POV)

'Wendy wants to get back together.'

I'd been staring at my phone in utter silence for I don't even know how long. I guess shock really is a hell of a drug.

I shouldn't be surprised really… Stan and Wendy had been doing this dance our whole lives practically. Break up, make up, break up, make up. Wash, rinse, repeat, every six months since we were eight years old.

I should have seen this coming.

Stan showed up one night a couple months ago because the two of them had split again. He was drunk and babbling, and carrying on about how this time he really was done with her. It was all stuff he'd said before…

But then there were a whole bunch of things he hadn't said before…

Like how much I meant to him, and how he didn't know where he'd be without me. How he'd never really thought about that kind of stuff, but now that it was right in front of him, he didn't know how he didn't notice it sooner.

And like a complete fucking jackass, I believed him.

And for the last couple months, things between us had changed. Probably irreversibly. Not that we'd really gone public with the more romantic aspect of our relationship, but I've never been all that big on obvious displays of public affection anyway. And any of the smaller things we did was pretty normal for us anyway, so nobody not in the know would've picked up on it.

For me though, the whole can of worms had been busted completely open. And if fairytales and happy endings were real, that would have been fine. But this was South Park, happily ever after didn't happen here.

Which is what left me here.

Sitting in the middle of my bed at 9:43 on a friday night, with a string of texts from my best friend - who I'd spent the last two months unofficially dating - saying he was getting back together with the same girl I'd watch break his heart time and time again.

There was a deep ache in my chest and for a moment I could kind of understand why Stan was always so quick to bury himself in a bottle.

My phone buzzed, and it was the first time I realized I'd been crying. It was Stan, and despite the overwhelming pain throbbing in my chest I still answered it like I was on autopilot or something.

He was talking too fast for my brain to process, only catching every third or fourth word as I stubbornly tried to get it to function. From the little bit I could gather, and just generally knowing Stan, he was apologizing about Wendy, while at the same time wanting me to tell him what to do.

"Stan…" I finally cut in, and he immediately shut up, "Stan I can't…. Look, I can't help you feel better about this right now."

I shook my head as I started to pull my phone away, "Do what you gotta do, Dude. No hard feelings, I want good things for you two. But I need to be alone right now."

I hung up, and it took everything in me not to hurl my phone across the room. I couldn't breath, I can't sit still. I just… I need to do something. I can't just stay here all night, or I'm going to lose it.

It took three tries before I was able to get my phone open, and by then my vision was so blurry from holding back tears I almost couldn't see the damn thing once it was. I sat on the edge of  my bed, tapping my heel urgently as I waited for him to pick up.

Please pick up.

"Hello?"

He sounded half asleep and I worried for a moment if I'd woken him.

"Hey, Ken… is it ok if I come over?"

"Yeah, man, it's… it's fine. Kyle… is everything ok?"

".....No."

#south park #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #k2 #stan marsh #style - mentioned (break up) #character pov #first person pov