#I even have a ceramic takeout container. okay

[yesyourstalker]

Mahi: ..….... *sleep*...........*sleep*...........*sleep*

Neta:......*eating*.....*eating*...... Really mahi?

News anchor: it's going to be a cloudy day today folks. low humidity with a slight breeze out we do have a slight chance of rain tonight and off of this week so enjoy this day while we have it

[beep beep]

Gai(deadbeat): I'm out side

Neta: I'll be out in a sec

Neta: mahi get up you're closing the store today remember. You're late

Neta: mahi!

Mahi: mmmmmm.....

Neta: mahi!.

Mahi: I'm up! I'm up ........ ...... can I get another pain killer before I go?

Neta: *sigh*...........there might be some in the cabinet

Mahi: alright.......... which bottles is it you have tons of pills in here

Neta:*sigh*.......with the yellow label in the white bottle...*huff* let me get it ..................here, this one isn't so strong take one

Mahi: alright. Cod ......

Neta: you're already running late. Just be at work by 4:00 okay? We need a manager to close the store

Mahi: yeah yeah. let me just take a quick shower and I'm off

Neta: alright. See ya in two days

Mahi: Where are you going exactly?

Neta: it's a long complicated story that doesn't concern you. See ya

_______________________________________________

Neta:.... alright sorry for the wait....

Gai: no worries. Let's get going..

[30min into the drive]

Neta:.........................................................

Gai:.....................................................................so...how have you been.

Neta: I've been fine Dad.

Gai: that's good.... you're really going to be surprised by the house we used to live in....

Neta: hmmmmm

Gai: we had plenty of space outside we were thinking of putting a playground for you when you got older.

Neta: wow that's nice...

Gai: the house is technically one story but we have a basement and an attic

Neta: uh-huh...

Gai: it's a 4 bed and 3 bath.... Maybe you might remember this place

Neta:..................

Gai:. ..................hm

Neta:......................

_______________________________________________

Mahi: Candi, can you fill in for me I still feel hungover

Candi: No Mahi. Go to work It's only 5 hours

Mahi: Please I really don't feel like gooooing

Candi: No mahi I'm not filling in for you. You think you're the first one to go to work hungover?

Mahi: Come on Candi! Please I barely ask you for anything. Can you just do this one thing for me?

Candi:......................... Okay Mahi fine.

Mahi: love ya Candi

Candi: Let me just get out of this hospital bed and leave my baby unattended so I can fill in for your shift.

Mahi: oh

Candi: Oh no! It's no problem really. I'm pretty sure Ona will be fine without me. She's only 2 days old, she should be fine.

Mahi: Nevermind...... I'm sorry

Candi: I'm in the car now. I sure hope my stitches are healed enough for me to stand for 5 hours

Mahi: Ok I get it! I'm going to work! fuck

Candi: Great have fun at work see you in 3 weeks

Mahi: alright....bye........... congrats on the new baby

Candi: awwww thank yoooou. bye!

Mahi: *sigh*.........fuck

_______________________________________________

Merv: son don't stand behind the manatees one kick from them and you're in the hospital.

Noiji: he's right you know. that's how I lost my eye. (POP). . see?

Warabie: UGHH!

Ikkan: heheh noiji stop heheheh that's gross

Noiji: hahahahahahahahah

Merv: noiji put your eye back in and stop goofing off

Noiji: ok ok..I'll stop hehehe

Warabie: .....you were joking right? That was a joke

Merv: he was just teasing you. These girls are quite peaceful and don't startle easily but still be cautious

Warabie: alright............ how did you lose your eyes? if you don't mind me asking

Noiji: I have this thing called Polycythemia and when I was 12 I had a blood clot-

Merv: boys prep the animals before you start conversations

_______________________________________________

Warabie: hello

Mahi: hey man

Warabie: hey mahi. what are you doing?

Mahi: oh you know folding shirts stocking chokers. what are you doing?

Warabie: prepping a manatee so it can get milked

Mahi:...................cool?......... I guess......

Warabie: Yeah...... Surprisingly, it's not as bad as it sounds first we have to sanitize their nip-

Mahi: yeah no I don't want that image in my head thanks..... Candi had her baby......what color is this?

Warabie: what?!? She had her baby already!?

Mahi: Yeah her ink sac broke while she was working and it left a stain on the floor in the bathroom. Everyone's fighting about what color it is. I think it's baby blue.

Anto: It's not baby blue! You fucking idiot!!

Warabie: let me see........ Awwww the baby is turquoise.

Mahi: that is not turquoise. Turquoise has like a little bit of green in it.....right?

Naomi: No that's teal

Vinny: It's obviously aqua

Anto: No it isn't! it's sky blue! You know that if your head wasn't suck up your ass

Vinny: Ay watch yourself mother fucker, I'm not scared to go back to prison

Fugue: The color is very obvious

Anto: Oh really? What color is it since you seem to know of more than anyone else here?

Fugue: It's cyan

Vinny:............pfffthh...hehehehehhahahaha what? What is that?

Anto: Oh shut the fuck up! Are you serious!

Fugue: that shade would be considered Cyan

Anto: iT's cYaAnN!! You always have to make yourself seem like the smartest person in the fucking room.

Warabie:........…........

Mahi: I'll call you back later......... Cyan is a neon color right That's not bright enough to be cyan

_______________________________________________

[3 hours in the drive]

Neta:......................

Gai:...................

Neta:...... ...........................

Gai: have you been talking to your aunt lately?

Neta: yeah we're talking

Gai: she tell you she's talking to Eddie again

Neta: not Eddie

Gai: that's what I said

Neta: how many chances is she going to give this guy?

Gai: I don't know. I'm honestly getting sick of him showing up randomly.

Neta: is he at least sober?

Gai: hell if I know

Neta: *ugh*..............................my blood sugar I get low. I need something to eat

Gai: alright I could eat I saw a takeout place.

_______________________________________________

Gai: this Place is actually really good. I've been here before It's the best takeout I'm telling you lady oyster is the best takeout place they The crab and lobster in their house Special fried rice

Neta: ehhh ..... I wouldn't say that this is the best place. Ikkan and I used to eat at a place called jelly wok, they put a whole friend egg on top of their lo mein and fried rice

Gai:.. what color is the shrimp with lobster sauce there?

Neta: brown..... it's the good kind

Gai: oh....was it eel owned?

Neta: isopod owned actually. They snuck up to the surface 12 years ago and no one said anything so they stayed

Gai: huh....well I think this place is better

_______________________________________________

Neta:....*eating*........hm ...it's not bad......*eating*.... it's really good

Gai: see... it's good like I said

Neta: i didn't expect them to have the coconut cream shrimp you rarely see that on menus nowadays

Gai: yeah it's octarian owned..

Neta:..... I can tell it's delicious..... Surface takeout and underground takeout are so similar when it comes to rice and noodles....*eating*......but their main dishes.....*eating * we don't have soft shell crab down below....... Wish we did.........*eating*.....

Gai: .........*eating*............... welp let's get back on the road...you want to drive?

Neta: yeah

_______________________________________________

Gai:........................

Neta:.......................

Gai: how do you grow your tentacles so fast

Neta: distilled water..... I wash it in distilled water....I also stopped dying it to the root so it grows faster now

Gai: I see.... Noticing you have a little bit of pattern now

Neta: yeah... I was surprised when it started to show up again. I've been dying it for so never thought it would come back

Gai: you have the same pattern as your mother.......

Neta:..oh........ really?

Gai: yeah just like it..hm...

Neta:............................................I don't remember that much about mom.............

Gai: you were too young when she passed............hehehe she loved you tho... When you were born she showed you off to everyone... Coworkers, neighbors, the mailman ..hahaha he haha.... We couldn't get out of the hospital without her making nurses and doctors stop to look at her baby hehehe.... She'd show you swimming in your little ink tank

Neta:hehehe.....................

Gai:......................

Neta: oh shit I forgot!

Gai: what? what happened

Neta: nothing, nothing My friend just had a baby and I told her I was going to give her Cirrina's old ink take when she was a baby.......... Let's do a quick stop so I can make a phone call. We need gas anyway

_______________________________________________

Mahi:hello?

Neta: mahi go to my room for a quick sec

Mahi: I'm already in your room

Neta:........................* Inhale* * exhale*...... Okay...... Go to my closet and you'll see an ink tank that needs to go to Candi... You think you can give it to her?

Mahi: this pink backpack thingy

Neta: yes... that I also have a box of diapers and clothes for her too. but I'll give that to her later

Mahi: I don't think the hospital will allow me in. I can see

Neta: just ask for Candi

Mahi: ok......... where are you anyway?

Neta: uhhhhh? Dad?

Gai: we just made it trout mountains..*yawn*..... Another hour and and we get a motel tomorrow we'll drive to the house

Neta: we're in the mountains....... it's really nice up here..... actually...... I can see the city from up here.

Mahi: cool ...... Can I use your car?

Neta: no

Mahi: but your car has Built-In splatify and gps!

Neta: just use your phone, Go to the hospital. Ask for Candi. Give the ink tank to a nurse, she'll know what to do with it.........oh ......and take a picture of the baabbyy. I want to see her... Oh she's probably so cute

Mahi: inkfish babies are kinda ugly

Neta: what?

Mahi: nothing I see ya bye

_______________________________________________

Gai:..........*huff*.......*huff*........... I'm gonna go back to the car .......*huff*......... little light headed

Neta: dad?........ Dad!....... hey hey .....you okay?

Gai:....*cough*.... yeah.... I'm fine just thin air I guess heh.......ugh......*ssssssssssss*

Neta: something wrong with your neck?

Gai: no

Neta: let me see

Gai: Neta-

Neta:oh cod! .....dad!

Gai: I'm fine

Neta: how long have you had that sore?

Gai: only a couple of weeks it's fine I usually put a bandage on when it opens up again

Neta:. again!................*huff*............... Do you have any bandages?

Gai: in my glove compartment there should be some bandages and gauze

Neta: *hmmm*..... I'll drive the rest of the way..... you said the motel is an hour away?

Gai: yeah

_______________________________________________

Mahi: yeah hi I'm here to visit Candi.

Nurse: who?

Mahi: oh uhhh Candice

Nurse: Candice????

Mahi: Temp. Candice Temp

Nurse: Mrs. Temp okay ..... well visiting hours usually end around 11:30 but I can call her room and see if she wants any visitors

Mahi: mk...

Nurse: you can see her now

Mahi: cool . ...um... I was told to give a nurse this ink tank thing

Nurse: yep I'll take that. Thank you

_______________________________________________

Candi: look at her

Donn: she's beautiful.... and so tiny

Candi: I wouldn't say that.. pushing for 6 hours......but she's so precious

Baby: *yawn*....

Donn: awwwww.....

Mahi:...*knock*....*knock*...... hey Candi

Candi: hey Mahi....you brought the maternity tank?

Mahi: yeah. The nurse has it.............so that's your baby?

Candi: Yeah....... Who else would she belong to?

Mahi:... I don't know.........hm.... Is it supposed to look weird and squishy?

Candi: yes she's mostly ink right now.....so yeah she's supposed to look weird and squishy. ......you want to hold her?

Mahi: no

Candi: please... you'll look so cute holding the baby

Mahi: fine

Candi: awwww

Mahi: emm...................... what's her name?

Donn: Ona.

Mahi: oh.... that's nice........you can take Ona back now............ you're not gonna be here for three weeks so Seth will be taking over until you return

Candi: That's the plans

Mahi: Okay great

Nurse: The maternity tank is all set up for you ma'am

Candi: thank you

mahi: All right I'm going to Head back home..... Neta wanted me to take a picture of the baby to show him

Candi: no need I'm planning on doing a professional shoot tomorrow

_______________________________________________

Neta:........................

Gai:......*snoring*.,......*snoring*

Neta: hello?

Ikkan: hey babe. I didn't expect you to be up I was going to send a voicemail

Neta: oh.... sorry...... what are you doing

Ikkan: nothing getting ready to start my day...you?

Neta: about to go to sleep.... just made it to a motel

Ikkan: that's good, get some rest. I love you

Neta: I love you too. tell crab cakes I said hi.....................

Gai:....*snoring*..........*snoring*.....

Gai: *sigh*....

_______________________________________________

Neta:...............

Gai:.................

Neta: ................

Gai: .........you seem tense

Neta: did you even think about getting treatment before it started to spread? Did you catch it early? Did you catch it too late? What's going on dad?

Gai: do I really need to talk about this right now

Neta: Yes we do....we need to talk about this........ Why are you doing this? Why do you constantly......*sigh*..........[pulling over]

Gai: I made my decision Neta. Are you still mad about that?

Neta: you really think it's just that?! You really think I'm only mad about that! Not leaving me alone in the house by myself so you can go drink, not dropping me at my aunt's house when you couldn't deal with me, or enrolling me in the military or abandoning me in a mental hospital for 10 months!!! You missed my first wedding, you weren't there for the birth of your granddaughter and you haven't reached out for 18 fucking years!!!! and now that you're sick and dying you think it's the perfect time to reach out to me!!!

Gai...........

Neta: I just want to know why!? Why aren't you getting help or medical attention?!?!

Gai: you don't understand.........I just want to use my last moments in life to be a father and make up for lost time

Neta:.....................................HOW?! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE UP FOR! WITH SOME SHITTY ROAD TRIP?! DAD YOU ABANDON ME! PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY!! ALL THE TIMES I NEEDED YOU WENT THERE AND NOW!. ... . WHEN YOU'RE FINALLY DECIDING TO BE A FATHER FOR ONCE IT'S WHEN YOU'RE DYING!? WHEN YOU KNOW IF YOU FUCK UP YOU WON'T HAVE TO FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!.....

Gai: son I-

Neta: I'm a 35 year old man!! Where were you when I was 19 and got a girl pregnant!!?? I had to teach myself how to parent!! When I was in a band!? I was successful I didn't see in the crowd! My business was one news opening day not a single phone call nothing..........................*crying*........

Gai: neta

Neta: and now you're here. Things were actually working out we're talking and laughing things are going great.... I'm spending quality time with my Dad something I've wanted for years...................*sobbing*...... It just feels like you're leaving me all over again........... every time I think you're here to stay you always find a way to leave me.......*sobbing*.......or get away from me all .....the time

Gai:.....................................*sigh*......... Neta......... I'm tired ........ I really am

Neta:.......................

Gai:.................... I lost my career ... ...my friends.....my home ......my wife.......You...........I lost everything in one moment and it ........it ruined me.....

_______________________________________________

[flash back sequins]

Gai: so what we have to leave? Where do we go?! This is octoling Territory!

Inkling soldier 1: all residents within the 50 mile radius have to leave the property..

Inkling soldier 2: sorry I know this is an inconvenience but we've reclaimed this property. We will be mailing information about your new location and where you'll be placed

Gai:No! I just bought this house! this is on an octarian base!.... what about my job. How am I supposed to go to work?

Inkling soldier 2: all factories, stores and businesses have already been shut down. They closed this morning

Gai: are you kidding so I'm out of job!.........

Inkling soldier 1: my apologies sir.... I don't agree with it either

Gai:.. come on man......you can't do this to us .....we just moved here....... our kid isn't even a toddler yet. Is there any way we can stay? I don't have that much money I can try-

Inkling soldier2: the land has been reclaimed for inklings we have a copy of the treaty if you want proof

Gai:"reclaimed" it was never yours to claim!!

Sydney: Gai please

Inkling soldier 2: sir if you don't leave the premises within a month we will have to take it by force...

Inkling soldier 1: your new location will be sent to you in the mail. Have a nice day

Gai:........[SLAM]...............cod damn it COD DAMN IT! Why is always me?

Sydney: honey......hey.... we'll be ok .... things like this happen all the time we'll bounce back like we always do

_______________________________________________

Gai: alright........ Everything is packed.... Neta is asleep.... let's go......

Sydney: here it says that our new location is going to be bunker 6988

Gai: just when you think you made it to the surface they find a way to shove you back underground

Sydney: [kiss] we'll be back eventually

Inkling soldier: name?

Gai: Gai Vern

Inkling soldier: ID?

Gai: here

Inkling soldier: alright.. family of 3. ..step out of the car sir.....you too ma'am...... we'll direct you to the line for your placement

Gai:.....

Sydney:.......

Gai: ok but what about our car? What are they doing with our car?!

Inkling soldier: sir we need you to get in line

Sydney: we have everything packed in there! Our clothes, my mothers cookware, baby supplies ..... Neta! His insulin! He needs that!

Inkling soldier: we're sorry to do this folks but no outside material once you enter the bunkers medical supplies will be given to you when needed

Gai:..........

_______________________________________________

Gai: we're home.......if you can call it that

Sydney:..... it's a little small...... but we'll make do... just until we get back on our feet. You find a job and I'll work from home with Neta

Gai:.. ....

Sydney: we'll be ok....[peck]

_______________________________________________

Gai:.............................................………

Sydney:........*huff*.........*huff*..........*huff*......... ... .........*smile* ..............

Gai:...... we'll be ok.... we'll bounce back like we always do

Sydney: yeah. . .......... ..... ....... . . . .... yeah ..

_______________________________________________

Gai: it's only going to be for a couple months. Okay I just need you to watch him......

Kat: months?

Gai: he's been acting out so just put him in his room if he does something. He's going to a different school he got kicked out the last one

Neta:.................

Kat: Gai......

Gai: I just need to get back on my feet..... I got another job and I just need to save enough money and I'm settled

Kat: you've been saying that for years

Gai: well what the fuck do you want me to do!? I'm doing my best!.... just look after him I got shit to do. I come back for em when I come back for em

Neta:.............

Kat: .......*sigh*.... Alright...

_______________________________________________

Gai:........................

Neta: [packing]....

Gai:........... ................*sigh*..... your first mission with a Splatoon. You should be proud you worked hard for this

Neta: not like I had a choice did I?.......

Gai: hay it was this or boarding school and we can't afford that

Neta: *heh*......... Let's hope you can afford my funeral. You're still paying debts off for Mom's

Gai: hey! Neta!

Neta: [SLAM] .......

_______________________________________________

[end of flashback]

Gai: when I saw you in the e-ward.... I guess I couldn't face you..... I didn't know what to do....felt like I lost everything and everyone... I honestly just gave up.......

Neta:......................................*inhale*.........*exhale*...................ok......... shit........................

Gai:.....*sigh*.....we're here.....

Neta: we are?

Gai: yeah follow this path.............up here............ they must have paved the road. It's a smooth drive...........here it is............*wh*............our house........oh wow

Neta:..... This was our home?

Gai: yeah......*sniff*..... This is it...... just how we left it..........*sniff*........ nothing has changed.....

Neta:...................wow

Gai: I got the key. Just gotta jiggle it a little and.. there..........*chough*..*cough* a little dusty tho

Neta:....................................

Gai: the skylight is new along with the furniture.....well it's not really new but not ours......tho it's nice. So? what do you think?

Neta:.....................................…...................

Gai: speechless right

Neta: yeah.....hehe... you bought this?

Gai: yeah back in 78, It's in perfect condition...(Pat ..Pat)

[CRASH]

Gai: almost perfect condition.......... Just needs a little bit of a repaint and diy and it should be fine

Neta: dad there's a hole in the ceiling

Gai: just have to put in another skylight it'll be fine

Neta: sure dad. which one was my room?

Gai: right here on the left...............looks like whoever owned this place turned it in an office...we spent weeks on the nursery.....*sigh*.....at least they kept the paint color the same.........

Neta:.hm .....

Gai: the basement seems the same the carpet is a bit darker than I remember

Neta: who owned this place? After you and mom left?

Gai: it was a vacation home for the first couple of years.....an inkling family moved in and then a urchin family owned it for a while...... that's all I know.....is that black mold?

Neta:..... what are you going to do with this place?

Gai: that's up to you.

Neta: what?

Gai: It's up to you. This land and this house is yours.... It'll take around a year for it to be restored. By the time I clean it, gut it, repaired and repainted I'll be in hospice

Neta:.........................................

Gai: it's yours. you're a home owner now you should be happy

Neta:... yeah.... I am .... I'm happy....... thanks dad.......how much time do you have left?

Gai: A year and several months doctors told me.......

Neta:.....................

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: so he's not getting any treatment?

Neta: no he's made up his mind

Ikkan: I'm sorry babe....he has plenty of time

Neta: I know.....*sigh*...... I don't blame him though.........*sniff*....*sigh*

Ikkan: maybe if you spend more time with him maybe he'll reconsider

Neta: I can only hope.

Ikkan: what does the house look like?

Neta: you'd love it's that mid something you like so much

Ikkan: mid-century?

Neta: yeah yeah it's that..... It is kind of worn down though you might need to hire some people to fix it up

Ikkan: where is it located?

Neta: in the mountains like waaay in the mountains, if you drive another half an hour, you'll make it to camp triggerfish

Ikkan: so the arowana mall would beee.....uhhh........at least an hour away by train

Neta: Cirrina would have to walk down to get to the train station for school that's at least 45 minutes

Ikkan: we can install a spawn pad

Neta: yeah...... When you get back I take you to the house. Sound good?

Ikkan: yeah we can do that. I'd also like to meet your Dad if that's ok....

Neta: yeah I'd like that. Cirrina should see her grandfather at least once....

Ikkan: think he has enough time to see you get married?

Neta: I didn't ask. That's just going to be another disappointment when he doesn't show up

Ikkan: Neta... I understand........

Neta: I'll ask....... but we're putting his chair in the back

Ikkan: good because invitations go out at the end of the month. I hope you picked your best man we have 2 months left and-

Noiji: PATTY'S HAVING HER CALF!!!

Ikkan: shit ok uhhhh I'll call you.......... In the morning - my morning.. I have to go bye!........... I love you Neta!

Neta:.........ok..... love you bye.

Gai: what was that?

Neta: nothing...... Do you have anything planned for the next few months

Gai: no. why?

_______________________________________________

Anto, mahi and @fish-at-fish-fish-resort spent 30 minutes arguing over the color of the ink stain that was left on the bathroom floor....

[worldwidebt7]

Hell(L)ing || 03

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 4,456

§ — Rating: M

§ — Warnings: None yet~

§ — A/N: Reader and Namjoon get formally introduced to Taehyung! Though he doesn’t really make the best first impression…. But he still cute af! Thank you so much for all your feedback so far guys! I hope you’re enjoying the story!

 Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

Before you knew it, you were preparing a light lunch for when Namjoon arrived for your book meeting on Monday, the previous nights’ events pushed aside, but not forgotten. When you had woken up Sunday morning, Yoongi was still soundly sleeping on your couch, face pressed into the back cushions and hands wedged between his knees. You had smiled fondly at the scene, nostalgia flashing images of his past sleeping habits like a slideshow in your mind. Somehow, you were perfectly content with being his friend— now at least, the first two years after the breakup had been filled with sad one-sided longing to be embraced by him.

You only lingered in the living room for a few moments before passing through to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee immediately, knowing that the man on the couch would be in need of it when he finally woke. It wasn’t long after the brewing process started that the half-asleep zombie staggered into the kitchen in search of the dark liquid. You laughed when he walked directly into the kitchen island before sliding into one of the bar chairs at the counter. He never brought up the incident, nor did he comment on your disheveled appearance, ever the gentleman. You fed him a simple breakfast of cereal, and allowed him to drink more than half your pot of coffee before he slinked home, looking only a little more alive than he had when he first emerged.

The rest of the day had been just as unproductive as the last and you were significantly more relaxed than you thought you’d be, though you had gone to bed with all of the lights on in your house once more. Now you were making bibimbap and bulgogi for Namjoon’s arrival Monday morning as you struggled to keep the eerie feeling of being watched from creeping under your skin.

Cooking for Namjoon had quickly been established as tradition for your meetings. The first time you did it, it was due to the fact that the two of you were meeting at your house at dinner time and Namjoon had confessed to not having eaten. Instead of ordering takeout, you quickly whipped something up for the two of you and discussed the manuscript of your book over tteokbokki. He complimented your cooking to the point that you had unknowingly agreed to cook for him each time he visited, not that you particularly minded preparing food, you just weren’t sure how it had gotten to that point. It was nice, though, to share a meal with someone; especially someone as intelligent and handsome as your editor.

The rice for the bibimbap was just about done when you felt the familiar tingle of another person’s presence enter your perimeter, and judging by the inquisitive yet poetic nature of the emotions connected to this individual, you could only assume that it was Namjoon. Soon, a knock came at your front door and you called out, letting him know that the door was unlocked and that he may enter.

“Y/N?” He called, closing the door behind him. You leaned over the kitchen island, hands wet from washing lettuce, and beckoned him into the kitchen. You saw his form appear, clad in a tan trench-style coat, white button-down, black slacks, and think-rimmed glasses. He had a laptop bad slung over his shoulder, obviously containing his electronic device as well as several other packets of paper if you had to guess by the size.

“I’m just finishing up preparing lunch,” You hummed, happy that your company has finally arrived and you were no longer alone with your thoughts. The tall man placed his bag on the quarts surface and shuffled out of his coat— one that he clearly did not need as it was still early September and still clinging to the warmth of summer. He draped it over the back of one of the pub stools at the island and propped himself on his forearms against the counter, peering at the food being fixed.

“Smells good,” He mused, a pleased warmth spreading through your body and letting you know that he was happy with the cuisine he saw. You were suddenly then hit by the sharp pang of hunger he sent your way. Normally, you’d think nothing of it considering hunger is one of the most common things you experience from other people. However, this time it instantly brought you back to the faint, yet no less potent reading you received from the creature outside your house two evenings ago— its hunger crawled under your skin like an army of insects marching in every direction, the detached curiosity only making it more violent.

The ceramic cup you had pulled from the cabinet to offer Namjoon a drink with slipped from your hand, shaken by the memory, and it shatters on the floor, startling both you and your editor. You stare at the once beautiful cup before turning to Namjoon, who’s eyes were large and alarmed, with an embarrassed grin. You could feel the concern and fright spiking from the man in front of you, but most notably there was confusion.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You stepped back from the pile of shards on your floor with a small smile— Namjoon was a genuine person; caring, intelligent, lyrical, and even if you weren’t empathic, you feel as though you’d have no problem understanding him and his emotions. He made everything apparent in his words and actions.

“I’m okay,” You replied, slipping out of the kitchen quickly and retrieving your broom and dust pan before scurrying back to the mess you’d created. “Wet hands.” You gave a light laugh, trying to explain away your upset.

Your editor didn’t know about your empathic abilities, and you really didn’t feel the need to tell him. In a sense, it was nice having someone that didn’t have expectations of having their emotions perceived by an outside source, which, if you thought about it, was rather invasive and you could understand how it might make people uncomfortable. While you considered Namjoon a friend, he was also your editor, so it was less about you trusting him, and more about keeping your relationship on a more professional spectrum.

As you began sweeping, the kind man straightened completely and attempted to round the island.

“Do you want some help?” His inquire has you shaking your head and pleasantly grinning at him.

“No, it’s fine, I got it. Sorry about this,” you swept the fragments into a small pile and collected it in the dustpan before making your way over to the trash bin on the other side of the peninsula separating your kitchen from your dining space. Namjoon gave a snort laced in amusement.

“Why are you sorry? It was your cup….” When you returned to your original spot you noticed his left eyebrow quirked, clearly entertained by your needless apologies. You rolled your eyes playfully and began fussing with the food once more.

“Just go sit down,” you said turning your back to him when you heard the tell-tale ‘click’ of your rice cooker alerting you to the completing of the rice for the bibimbap. Thankfully, you had already placed two large bowls out in preparation and simply began filling the bowls about a third of the way with the steaming rice.

Behind you, you heard Namjoon treading away from the kitchen and towards your small kitchen table set up in front of the large windows that made up the entirety of the back wall facing the lake on the first floor of your house. You only had four chairs for the table in total, however you rarely ever had the need of all four and opted to keep two, as you usually only had one visitor at a time. He unpacked his bag into a neat pile and set it to the side, obviously intent on eating before getting to the heart of the meeting.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked, successfully removing two glasses from your cabinet without incident this time. You filled yours with iced barley tea, a favorite of yours in the heat of the summer.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” He answered as he plopped himself into a chair at the table. You felt the anticipation buzzing in the air and stifled a laugh— the man really wanted his food. So, you poured his drink and delivered both glasses to the table before returning to the kitchen to bring the remaining items out for your lunch.

Once both of you were sat, the food presented appetizingly, the two of you settled into comfortable conversation. Lunch with Namjoon was always pleasant because Namjoon was pleasant— you could talk about anything, and any topic could easily slip into something philosophical. You enjoyed this; the intellectual talk kept your mind sharp and fulfilled, and you always felt the most satisfied after a long talk.

You had considered Namjoon a potential partner at one point, and when the two of you had first met, it was immediately apparent that he too had been attracted to you. But breaching the line between professional and personal relationship was not something that you particularly wanted to risk. Plus, you still had the lingering pain of your experience with Yoongi to keep you in check. And so, not wanting to experience another person falling out of love with you again, you kept any feelings to yourself until both yours and Namjoon’s sentiments faded into a fond friendship not unlike the one you had with Yoongi now.

Once the two of you had your fill, you placed the dirtied dishes in the sink to wash later and returned to the kitchen table where Namjoon was booting up his computer and sifting through a folder of papers. You almost huffed in disappointment— time to get down to business. You excuse yourself for a moment to grab your journal from your office.

You only needed to be in your office for a moment— just long enough to seize your journal and turn back to return to Namjoon in your kitchen. Your desk was facing the window overlooking the water; you liked looking out at the diamonds of sunlight dace across the ripples as you let your imagination carry you away too far off land. Whilst retrieving your notes you gazed out the window absentmindedly only to find something out of place. Or rather, something that didn’t belong.

There, standing at the edge of the water, was a man of rather average height and a mop of black hair on his head. You were frozen momentarily, something about the scene reminding you of your chilling visitor from the other night. Taking a deep breath to stabilize your racing thoughts enough to think rationally, your mind pulled a small piece of information out of your haze.

Seokjin’s roommate. The one he said would probably be wandering around. The one you saw on their property before. It must be him; it has to be him— the shaggy dark hair, though you only saw it from afar last time, was surely enough to tell you it was this mystery roommate.

You released a few more uneven breaths, holding your journal tightly by your side, and you took him in now that you had a better view. He was still outside your radius, so you couldn’t get a read on him, and his back was facing you as he stared out over the water, but you could tell he had a well-built form beneath his loose-fitted clothing. His stature though… was he smaller than your nightmare? Or was the presence of the specter looming outside your house that night so overwhelming that you had imagined him much larger than he truly was?

The man tilted his head slightly and you caught just the slightest view of his jawbone. You jumped slightly for reasons unbeknownst to you. It almost felt like he knew you were watching him silently from within your home. However, your startled brain soon posed the question: why on earth was he in your yard?

“Y/N” You heard Namjoon call, though he sounded close; was he calling from the bottom of the stairs? Backtracking, your eyes lingered on him for as long as your retreating form would allow before quickly darting down the stairs to find that your editor was, in face, awaiting you at the bottom. He wasn’t looking at you, though. He was staring out towards the back of your house and when you joined him on the ground floor you focused your attention in the same direction. “There’s someone in your yard…” You nodded at his statement, a still bit bewildered yourself.

“Yup…” You said, glancing at the tall man beside you before turning back to gaze out your window. “I think he’s my new neighbor,” you mused, more to yourself than your companion. You cleared your throat then, gaining his attention as you peered up at him. “Should, uh… should we go say hi?” Your brows furrowed, trying to express the uncertainty buzzing about. You could feel the same spike within Namjoon, however there was a bit of humor laced within it.

“We? He’s your neighbor,” he teased, causing you to send him a disgruntled, yet good-natured scowl. He chuckled at that, rolling his eyes as he nudged you with his elbow. “Like I would let you go out there with some weird dude.” Sighing, he began towards the back door, “Come on. We’ll say hi, send him home, and then finally get the meeting started.” You trailed after him, placing your journal on the kitchen table as Namjoon opened the door and stepped out. You followed suit, closing the door as to not let the cool air out of your house. The moment the door clicks shut, the mystery boy at the edge of the late spins to look at you, his gaze guarded at first. As you approached, what you felt made your blood run cold.

There was virtually nothing.

There were blips of emotions like caution and fear, even aggression. But there was nothing substantial to latch onto and this was both exciting and terrifying. How was it possible that he was evading your senses? How could he be keeping his feelings from flooding into you? Was he aware of your abilities? Or was he naturally repressive?

Not human.

You visibly tensed and stopped your approach, causing Namjoon to halt as well and turn to you in confusion, though you hardly noticed the taller man as you take in the daunting stranger. Now that you were within closer proximity, you were able to see his face— and he was stunning. You drank in his round eyes, sharp jawline, perfectly full lips, and flawless golden skin, each feature just as impeccable as the last. He was quite possibly the loveliest person you’d ever seen, and yet there was something unsettling about his beauty, the ethereal air radiating off of him almost too dreamlike.

Not human.

Your heart rate sped up, the same disturbing feeling from the other night creeping into your bones and setting your nerve endings alight. The dark-haired stranger locked eyes with you, and suddenly the small blips of intense emotions shifted— they were still on high alert, still nervous, but there was suddenly a softness to them, almost as if he were being cautious for you, rather than being cautious of you. At this, you couldn’t help the slight furrow of your brow as you regained your slow stride towards the boy, only stopping when you reached Namjoon’s side.

The unfamiliar man flicked his gaze between the two of you guardedly, looking as if he were to take off into the woods again any moment. You made no indication that you were going to initiate conversation, which Namjoon noticed and fortunately took the obligation from you at a low clearing of his throat.

“Uh, hello?” His deep voice and small step forward caught the other male’s attention and his eyes sharpened, locking onto your editor’s form. You felt a shiver at the aggressive spike in the air, both from Namjoon, and from the blips of emotion you could pick up from the stranger. Clearly Namjoon had picked up on the hostility directed towards him as well, and luckily for everyone, he was a smart man with a level head. However, he wasn’t immune to emotional outbursts, and the unwarranted behavior from this weird boy was clearly ticking him off.

“I-I’m Y/N!” you interjected quickly, trying to dispel the tenseness in the air to avoid a brawl. At your voice, the beautiful visitor snapped his eyes to you, still very much heavily guarded, and you sucked in a shallow breath through your nose. His gaze a piercing, almost as if he could see every muscle twitch, every pulse of your heart from where he stood— almost predatory.

You tried to control your heart beat, but with no success. Penetrating eyes, no stable emotional readings, predatory stare, defensive like a cornered animal…

Not human.

His eyes flicked between you and Namjoon, his body tense and when you glanced at his feet you saw that he was poised to dart off at any moment. What worried you is that you didn’t know if he meant to run at you, or away from you. You attempted talking to him again, hoping to calm him, but not before taking a step back away from him and sliding a bit closer to Namjoon.

“You’re Seokjin’s roommate, right? It’s nice to meet you…” You kept your voice as steady and pleasant as you could. He continued to scrutinize you, and you continued to try and hone in on what his intentions were, still only catching the small blips of hostility and distress at first until you saw his shoulders relax fractionally and you caught the smallest spark of the gentle caution you had earlier.

“Who’s Seokjin?” You heard Namjoon whisper to you, causing another aggressive spike in the air. This time, your head throbbed as well; an oncoming migraine more than likely caused by how hard you were trying to focus on your mysterious neighbor. You winced slightly, looking at Namjoon and withdrawing your abilities as much as you could.

“He’s—”

“KIM TAEHYUNG!” Speak of the Devil, and so shall he appear. All three of you snapped your head in the direction of the voice that you vaguely recognized as your new neighbor. You saw him before you sensed him, and usually feelings began faint and grew stronger as they neared you. However, when he entered the radius in which your abilities were effective, you were blind-sided by the power of his emotions. Anger, fear— panic, panic, panic. Always with the panic with this man; was he always going to be this intense? At least now his face matched his emotions. Breath knocked from your lungs, you nearly doubled over by the force and you immediately became overwhelmed, only finding little relief in your editor’s voice giving you something different to focus on.

“Seokjin?” He asked you, to which you nodded. The scattered throbbing in your head became a cutting pain, one that had you shying away from the sunlight and gritting your teeth. You felt a wave of concern come from Namjoon at your sudden change in behavior and your sent him a tight smile in return to reassure him.

“Yeah, he just moved into the house up the lake…” Namjoon nodded, taking in this information, and you both turned to readdress the other men before you. Seokjin had made his way to his roommate’s side quickly, clearly out of breath from his fast pace, and you expected the black-haired boy to be looking at the purple-haired man. Except, he wasn’t; his gaze bore into your own as you made eye-contact and you froze, unable to look away. His eyes were onyx, so dark that you couldn’t see his pupils, and completely bottomless, as if they were a gate to the deepest part of the universe.

“What are you doing here?!” Seokjin’s voice ripped through your hypnosis as you regained some of your composure, taking in the situation before you. Your neighbor was furious; his anger like hot coals burning behind your eyelids. His hand was wrapped around the boy’s forearm as if to ensure he wouldn’t be escaping his wrath. “When I said you could go outside, I specifically told you not to wander out of our yard, Taehyung! Why did you leave?!” Despite the fuming man’s temper, Taehyung, so you assume, gave very little as a reaction. He blinked at Seokjin and then pouted lightly like a scolded child. He glanced back in your direction before looking at his feet.

“I like it here better…” The baritone of his voice caught you off guard— the softness of his masculine face led you to believe his voice would be just as soft, but you realized that deep dulcet voice was a beautiful contrast to his looks. Strangely, you felt yourself eager to hear him speak again, as if his voice held some sort of magic over you. Instead, you heard Seokjin scoff.

“And that seemed like a good enough reason to disobey me? You know you can’t just be walking around—”

“Excuse me?” You nearly jumped at Namjoon’s interruption, as you had been too consumed by the unearthly boy with the deep voice. When you looked at Namjoon, you saw the exasperated irritation and confusion you felt lying beneath Seokjin’s anger written clearly on his face. You almost wanted to laugh, except you were just as confused as he was. What was going on here? This entire situation was absurd; a strange boy wanders into your yard, doesn’t speak to you, and then your furious new neighbor comes barreling in to scold the boy who is his roommate? So much for your peaceful sanctuary in the middle of the woods.

“Oh my God,” Seokjin finally seems to realize that you and Namjoon were in attendance, and the panic again overrides his anger to the point that you want to twist your face at it as if it were sour candy. Though, once more, you were pleased to find the panic present on his face. “I’m sorry! Did Taehyung disturb you?” Said boy’s pout deepened as he snuck glances at you, which you vigorously ignored due to the strange spell he had seemed to cast on you earlier.

“Actually—” You cut off Namjoon before his temper got the best of him. He was noticeably, and rightfully, annoyed at the moment. He had come here for lunch and a meeting, not to get wrapped up in some nonsensical drama that he probably had no time for. Still, you’d like to stay on good terms with your neighbors if at all possible, so you chirped up in an attempt to mellow-out the pressure hanging in the air.

“N-no! It’s fine, we just weren’t sure who he was…” You trailed off with an awkward laugh, hoping that Seokjin’s emotions would ease up and allow you the opportunity to breath. It seemed to work fractionally as you felt a small wave of relief. There was no hope for Namjoon’s irritation on the other hand— he would likely be in this mood for the rest of the day.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry about that,” the purple-haired man let out a tense laugh. “He’s not supposed to be out too much… he’s quite ill, so he’s often in bed.” Ah, there it is again. “I guess he got a bit restless and wanted to wander.” Again, more truths, half-truths, and lies and you were unable to decipher which was what. Still, that little voice inside your head was telling you to leave it be, Seokjin’s a good person. How frustrating.

“Oh, um, well my house isn’t too far from yours…He’s welcome to stop by from time-to-time if he’s able…” Perhaps then you could better understand why you couldn’t get full readings off of him. At your suggestion, you saw the boy in question look up at you, suddenly, with a child-like hope shining on his face. He was almost… cute. His hope was crushed, however, when Seokjin attempted to refuse your offer.

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose,” He looked at Taehyung, who looked back at him with the pout he had been sporting earlier. A melancholy leaked into the air slowly, something along the lines of remorse. At what you couldn’t place, but it was an unexpected emotion from the man who seemed to have no shame.

“It’d be no problem… It’d be nice to have company every once-in-a-while,” You assured him that having the sickly boy over wouldn’t be an issue, but it seemed to do very little to persuade him. Still, he seemed weak to Taehyung’s pouting face as you felt his resolve melt a bit.

“Well… we’ll see…” He said, looking back at you. Taehyung looked back at you as well, pout gone and entire demeanor brighter, sharp blips of excitement popping in the air like fireworks. He was cute. Namjoon, who had been standing grumpily at your side as you attempted to sooth the parties involved in this incident, had become quite impatient, and while you felt bad, you also knew that a smile was spreading onto your lips at his expense.

“Well, just know that it’s okay with me!” You placed your hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, getting the full brunt of his frustration though it was no less amusing to you. “We should head back in and finish our meeting,” You felt a string of emotions rolling off your tall friend that could all be condensed into the word ‘finally.’ Seokjin nodded, sliding behind Taehyung to grasp his other arm before he turned the both of them and began pushing the boy along back towards their house.

“I need to get him back home anyway,” He smiled— charming, lovely, and not completely sincere— and Taehyung sent you what you assumed was his signature pout. “Sorry for taking your time!” You wanted to laugh at their antics, but instead sent a friendly wave.

“It was nice to meet you, Taehyung!” You called after them, and you swore you saw his shoulders tense a bit. Once they were down the lake’s shoreline and out of view, Namjoon turned to you with an unamused face. You could only shrug, not knowing what exactly he wanted to hear from you, and he heaved a loud sigh and rolled his eyes.

“I still have a little time left. Let’s go talk about that book, shall we?” He said gruffly, making his way back to your house.

Ah. Right… about that…

[brideofedoras]

The Loft: Redemption

Disclaimer: the usual.  

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: Mentions of sex dreams, masturbation, naughty thoughts and implied naked Vincent Stevens.  

Rating: 18+

Chapter 5

Vincent groaned into his pillow after glancing at the alarm clock.  Three twenty-six in the morning and he was wide awake.

He blamed the dream.  Jesus Christ, did he blame the dream.

The same dream he’d had every night since he’d nearly kissed Sam in the conference room.  When she had straightened his tie and told him she didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression because he was a rumpled mess.

He rolled onto his back and tossed the covers off.  “She’s off-limits, Stevens,” he muttered as he scrubbed his hands over his face.  “Too good for an asshole like you, you’d only ruin her.”

He slipped out of bed and stalked across the loft to the bathroom.  He screwed his eyes shut when he flipped on the light, the sudden brightness burning.  “She deserves better.”

Deserves better than a man pushing forty with a history of womanizing and cheating.  A man who had been arrested for murder.  A man paying dearly in alimony and child support with strict and limited visitation with his children.  A man who had fought and struggled and clawed his way back from rock bottom to keep his company afloat.

He squinted his eyes as he opened them, locking onto the shadowed eyes in the mirror.  “She’s too young for me anyway,” he sighed heavily before turning toward the shower and turning it on.  He adjusted it to the coldest temperature he could stand and stripped out of his blue and grey plaid pajama bottoms.  His erection, brought on by the damned erotic dream, throbbed against his abdomen.  He glared at it.  "Cold showers at three thirty in the god damned morning are not my idea of fun,“ he muttered before stepping into the shower.  He bit back a yelp as the stream of cold water hit his skin. 

Vincent ducked his head under the icy spray, welcoming the shock and hoping it would kill his raging desire so he would not have to deal with it himself.  In the past it never bothered him to jack off in the shower.  Back then he hadn’t given a damn.  But now?

Now he felt dirty.  He felt disgusted any time he had to bring himself to completion after dreaming about making love (not fucking, not screwing, not banging, making slow, sweet love) to Sam in his office or on the damned conference table.  But the cold shower was not helping kill the lust.  With a growl he soaped up his hands before curling his fingers around his aching manhood and thinking of anyone but Sam. But all he could see was his beautiful, efficient, brilliant assistant reaching up to straighten his damned tie.  One hand curling around the tie at his chest, the other sliding up to the knot, her brow furrowed in concentration, full bottom lip trapped in her teeth, big grey eyes shyly meeting his.

Fuck.

Vincent leaned back against the cold ceramic tiles of the shower, swearing a blue streak as he struggled to regain his breath.  He reached over and turned the shower off.  He stood there a few minutes more before stepping out onto the plush bath mat and grabbing a towel to dry off with.  He tossed it angrily toward the hamper as he stalked out of the bathroom.

He grabbed his bottle of bourbon and a tumbler.  The drink he poured he knocked back quickly.  "Dammit,” he muttered.  He poured another drink.  With a frown he filled the tumbler nearly to the brim.

Vincent knew bourbon was not the answer to his problem.  But he drank it anyway.  He chugged the generous glass and poured another to take to bed.  As he set the tumbler on the nightstand he glanced at the alarm clock.  3:42.  "Hell,“ he muttered.  His alarm was set for six, and he was wide awake.

And hungry. 

Most men would fall asleep after a damned good orgasm, whether resulting from sex or masturbation.  He never did.  Maybe it was years of cheating on Barb and not wanting to risk falling asleep and wind up getting busted, maybe he was wired different.  But he always wound up hungry.

He made his way back to the kitchen to scope out the contents of the refrigerator and grinned when he saw the takeout container from yesterday’s, no, the day before’s, lunch.  Sam had ordered extra Chinese when he’d commented about possibly working late to work on that damned park design he’d been struggling with.  "Still struggling with the damned thing, too,” he grabbed the container and popped it in the microwave. 

He scrubbed his right hand over his face as he waited for the food to heat up.  But he could not get the images from that dream out of his head.  Wide grey eyes behind those glasses she always wore.  Soft pink blush on her cheeks.  Plump kissable lips.  Silky dark hair he longed to tunnel his fingers into as he kissed her senseless or marked up her neck.  Elegant fingers he wanted to entwine with his as he made slow, sweet love to her.  Long legs he wanted wrapped around his hips as he drove into her over and over again.

The tattoo on her shoulder he’d caught a glimpse of months ago.  The memory of the sudden desire to touch, to taste washed over him.  He knew about the feather tattooed on the inside of her left wrist and the flower tattooed just behind her right ear on her neck.  She had told him it was simblemyne from Lord of the Rings when he had asked about it. 

“God dammit,” he sighed heavily.  He had never had a thing for tattoos on a woman before, hadn’t cared one way or another.  But on Sam… Jesus Christ did he want to trace his tongue and fingers over each one.  And he wondered if she had more.

He closed his eyes.  “Get a grip, Stevens,” he growled.  “It’s been a long week already, don’t make it any more difficult.”

He was a tired, cranky mess when he made it to the office a few hours later.  Sleep had evaded him when he’d crawled back into bed, even with a full belly and a fourth glass of bourbon.  How he wasn’t drunk before eight in the morning was a mystery to him, one he hoped to never have to repeat.

Thank god it was Friday.

Vincent damn near dropped his coffee when he opened the door to the office and spotted his assistant at the window with her back to the door wearing something she had never worn before.

She was dressed in a soft dove grey sweater dress, loose-fitting and hitting at mid-thigh, paired with black tights and knee-high grey boots.  Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the crown of her head, exposing that damned delectable simblemyne tattoo.  He was accustomed to leggings paired with tee-shirts and flowy cardigans or sweaters, or fitted slacks and button-down blouses.  But a dress?  When he’d overheard her tell Linda she hated dresses?

She turned to face him when he pushed the door shut.  “You’re…”  She trailed off when she took in the bags under his eyes.  “Vincent, are you okay?”

“My turn for a sleepless night,” he gave her a tired grin.  “Don’t even think about sending me home, I’ve got to knuckle down on that damned park design if I’m going to present it next week to the city.”

“The one you’ve been struggling with?”

He snorted as he made his way to his office.  “Landscaping is not my forte, Sam,” he admitted.  “I wanted to branch out and now I’m sorely regretting it.”

“Maybe I could help?”

He stopped in the doorway separating the offices.  Did I hear her correctly?

“Or not, don’t listen to me.”

He frowned when he caught the defeated tone in her voice.  That’s not the Sam Monroe I know, he thought.  “You want to do what I do,” he turned to face her.  “You want to become an architect.”

She nodded.  “It’s been a longtime dream of mine.”

“You know anything about landscaping?”

“A little,” she shrugged.  “I designed a butterfly garden for Mom’s office building and worked with a group on a class project to design a memorial park at the university I attended.”

Vincent walked over to stand beside her.  He took her shoulder in his free hand and turned her back to the window.  “Remember the city block you pointed out the day I interviewed you?”  He dropped his hand when he felt her shudder.  Don’t overstep your boundaries, Stevens.

She looked up at him.  “Yes.”

“This is no small butterfly garden or memorial park, Sam.  This is something for families to enjoy together.  Think Central Park, but smaller.”

“I’ve never been to New York,” she admitted quietly. 

He gave her an incredulous look.  “Next conference I go to in New York, you’re going with me.”

“That’s not necessary,” she shook her head, tearing her eyes from his.  “What would I do in New York while you’re attending the conference?”

“Suffer through the boring crap with me, tour the architectural wonders, stroll through Central Park, eat at a five star restaurant and take in a show on Broadway.”

“If the conferences are boring, why bother going?" 

"It’s good exposure,” Vincent shrugged.  “You learn about new things, new areas of study and certification, new technology for designing blueprints.”

“I don’t see you using computer programs to design buildings,” she wrinkled her nose. 

“There’s something magical about drawing up the designs by hand,” he tipped his head toward her.  “Computers take the fun out of it.  They make the mind weak by taking out all the guesswork and calculating everything for you.  Don’t ever rely on those programs, Sam.”

She nodded. 

“What’s my schedule like today?"  He asked as he headed to his office.

"Site visit after lunch, Jennings Street apartment complex.”

“You ever visit a project site before?”

“No, sir.”

His coffee cup thunked onto his desk.

Sir. 

She just had to call him “sir”.

He fumbled to keep the to-go cup from tipping over, inwardly cursing himself at the mental images popping into his head unbidden. 

“Vincent?”

“You want to come with me this afternoon?”

He screwed his eyes shut and grimaced at his ill-worded question and husky tone, glad he still had his back to the door. 

“I’m hardly dressed for a visit to a construction site.”

“What you’ve got on is fine, Monroe.”

More than fine, his brain added quite unhelpfully.  Sexy.  Gorgeous.  Breathtaking.

“It’s fodder for construction workers,” there was that hesitation in her voice, a tone of self-doubt he’d never heard before.

“You’ll be with me the entire time, Sam, if anyone says anything out of line or looks at you wrong I will take care of it,” he turned to face her.  “I won’t tolerate anyone crossing any lines with you.”

Her grey eyes widened behind her glasses.  “I could always run home and change during my lunch break…”

“Sweetheart, it won’t matter,” he shook his head.  “They’ll stare, they’ll say something, and I promise you they’ll get their asses handed to them.”

“I don’t want to cause any issues–”

He chuckled.  “Oh, you will,” he hung up his jacket and dropped into his chair behind the desk.  “Woman on a construction site usually does.  Don’t let them get to you.  Don’t pay them any mind, but if they say something put them in their place and tell me.”

Her brow furrowed.  “Okay, but I’d feel more comfortable if I can go home to change.”

He could not argue with her point.  “All right.  I’m going to start working on that damned design in about fifteen minutes if you want to help.”

Sam smiled, “Thank you, Vincent.”

“I should be thanking you, Sam,” he smiled back.

Vincent looked up from noting a playground on the paper in front of him.  “Koi pond?”

She nodded.  “Kids love watching koi fish,” she frowned thoughtfully.  “The nursing home where my grandpa was has a koi pond in front of the Hollywood wing.  When they remodeled the vestibule they put in a section of ‘glass’ floor to watch the fish swim under it,” she hooked her fingers in air quotes.  “It’s pretty neat, but they scare the hell out of me.  Kenna still teases me about refusing to use the main entrance.  Any time I went to see Grampa I had to be buzzed in from the patio.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling and to refrain from reassuring her those floors, if installed correctly, were perfectly safe.  “You mentioned designing a butterfly garden earlier.  What if we included one in the design?”  He studied the rough layout he’d mocked up before sliding his hand along the paper to tap a blank area.  “Maybe over here away from the playground.”

Sam caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it as she swiveled on the stool, angling her body toward him.  “I was thinking of a pavilion around here, for outdoor weddings,” she murmured before immediately flinching.  "If…  If that’s okay with you?��

He frowned at the way she flinched like she was expecting to be slapped.  "Jot it down,” he slowly reached across her to pick up her discarded pencil.  “Sam, your ideas for this park are brilliant.  I’ve been procrastinating on this for weeks, and here you’ve bounced several excellent suggestions off of me in…” he glanced at his watch as he straightened from his slouch over the drawing table, “three hours.  Let’s take a break for lunch and come back to this after the site visit.  How’s that sound?”

She looked up at him.  “You really think my ideas are brilliant?”

Oh damn.

That shy smile bowing her lips tugged at his heart. 

“No,” he shook his head.  “I know they’re brilliant."  He tapped the paper.  "Make note of the other ideas you mentioned off to the side until we can figure out where to work them in.  And for future reference, keep a notebook available to write down any ideas you might get at random times.  Trust me, I’ve been in the damned grocery store more than once when a thought would pop into my head.  You wouldn’t think a package of chicken breasts would inspire an arched entryway.”

Sam giggled at that as she jotted her ideas down.  “And just how did they inspire it?”

He chuckled.  “My kids were going to spend the weekend with me.  Figured I’d get the ingredients for a couple of their favorite meals.  Kinzie, my little girl, likes this chicken breast and asparagus dish.  I was standing there, trying to remember what else I needed when it just popped into my head how she’d told me one time she wished her school had arched doorways like a castle does, and I realized that would be better for the preschool design I’d bid on.”

Sam twisted the stool to face Vincent, her eyes wide behind her black-framed glasses.  “Please tell me you included a moat and a tower in the design.”

He laughed.  “No, I didn’t,  If Kinzie had her way it would’ve been an actual castle.”

“She sounds like she takes after you,” she tipped her head toward his Castle Grayskull blueprint on the wall. 

“God, I hope she doesn’t,” he sighed heavily. 

The last thing he needed was for either of his kids to follow in his damned footsteps.

He shook off that frightening thought before pasting on a tired smile for Sam’s benefit.  “I’ll grab us some lunch so you don’t have to rush.  Romeo’s sound good?”

“I’ve been wanting to try their cauliflower risotto and parmesan crusted chicken breast,” she nodded.  “Would it be too much to ask for cheesecake?  Their blackberry swirl cheesecake looks amazing.”

He smiled at the hopeful look in her grey eyes.  “Anything else?”

She shook her head.  “No, that’ll do me, Vin, thank you.”

His heart stuttered in his chest at that shortened version of his name.  He watched her walk out of his office.

I’m in trouble. 

[iris-writes-things]

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 11 part 2

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read ahead as I write the story as a $1 Patreon patron!

"Oh my God…" Anthony mumbled, rubbing his hands in his face. "I've known you for ten years, how did I not see this coming?" "What do we do now?" "Well, obviously, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Starting with dessert."

Or, it's going to be a long night.

Chapter 15 of 20 Ongoing 3556 words Romance/Humor

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley could cook. It might help to understand this situation if you knew that Anthony J Crowley, aged thirty-two, PA to the head of marketing at a large multinational* and living in the very heart of London, used to cook for his entire dorm back in art school. 

(*except not quite anymore)

Ten young men, nine of them without the basic cooking skills one would simply have picked up by watching their mum** cooking for them for long enough, in close quarters, making long hours in uni and with hardly a penny to spare, was an outbreak of scurvy waiting to happen. Crowley was not about to let that pass.

(**or dad or other legal guardian)

The arrangement had worked out well enough. He would cook enough for a small army every night, including enough leftovers to provide packed lunches the next day, and the others would do the dishes and, occasionally, let him copy their notes. At first, it had taken some serious maths and creativity to wrangle the family recipes into something that could be more or less mass-produced, and some serious convincing for the shop on the corner to let him buy his ingredients in bulk, but it had been smooth sailing from there. 

Now that Crowley lived alone, however, he didn’t cook for himself anymore. In fact, he was pretty sure he only cooked when it was his turn to cook for Angela and Anathema. 

His appetite wasn’t particularly large, and he’d never perfected the art of cooking for one. Besides, he could simply afford to at least order takeout whenever he got hungry. But now that he had Ezra… he could simply justify cooking again. In fact, there was beef wellington resting on the dinner table, along with roasted rosemary potatoes and various vegetables, to support that claim.

Crowley stared at the ingredients on his counter. Four eggs, a sack of sugar, a carton of heavy cream, a bar of dark chocolate, and a bottle of vanilla extract. 

His mum never made chocolate mousse. As such, he didn’t have any family recipe for it. He was about to blindly trust the judgment of a convicted American felon in his own damn kitchen – but what a way to go, he mused to himself. He wiped his hands on the checkered towel that was slung over his shoulder and went into the living room to check up on Adam once more. 

Sleeping like a log. Crowley smiled and reached down to stroke his rosy little cheek. He hadn’t expected to get this attached. He’d hoped he wouldn’t, but he did. Handing him back to Lucy would break his heart.

A knock sounded at his door.

Crowley jumped up and sprinted towards the door, socks slipping across the smooth floor. He took a deep breath and opened it, draping himself against the doorframe very suavely but also not entirely unlike a melting chocolate santa claus. 

At least he would have Ezra.

“Hello, angel.”

“Hello, my dear,” Ezra beamed. He gestured to a bottle of wine. “I hope this one will suit your tastes better than the last one.”

“I’m sure it will.” The bar was set low enough, after all. “Come on in,” he said, stepping aside for Ezra.

“Oh my goodness,” Ezra said as he stepped inside. “Anthony, my love, that smells marvellous.”

‘My love’. Crowley’s knees almost buckled. “Well, you know, I try,” he said as smoothly as he could muster. About as smooth as sandpaper, by anyone’s best judgment.

Ezra only nodded and smiled. “Is Adam asleep, then?” he asked.

“I put him to bed just an hour ago, he’s not likely to wake up until after we finish.”

“Does that mean we can have some of this now?” Ezra asked, wiggling the wine bottle in his hands.

Crowley took the bottle, nodded and smoothed his hair back before pulling out a chair for Ezra. “That’s exactly what that means. Here, take a seat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Ezra said, smiling a fond smile as he sat down.

As Crowley walked to the other end of the table, he inspected the bottle more closely and found that, to his relief, it was one with a twist cap. A satisfying crackle sounded as he opened the bottle and was greeted by a waft of the wine’s fragrance. Yes, this one would be much better, he thought to himself as he poured them each a generous glass. “Alright, so, I’m sure you’re familiar with all of these; roasted veggies and potatoes and a beef wellington.”

“Oh yes, I can’t wait.” Ezra rubbed his hands together as he glanced over the foods on the table – Crowley was even sure he spied a bit of tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth.

It brought a smile to Crowley’s face. “Well then, don’t.”

*

An entire dinner and half a bottle of wine between them later, Ezra found himself staring down at the ingredients on Anthony’s counter. Eggs, sugar, cream, chocolate and a small bottle containing God knew what. They shouldn’t intimidate him, but they did. What if he did something wrong? He’d make a fool of himself and a mess of Anthony’s kitchen. How he regretted relying on his family’s values for so long. Now he couldn’t even make something as simple as dessert. 

Anthony must have noticed something was off about him, as he soon felt a nudge against his arm. When he looked, Ezra found Crowley, holding out his spare apron and a kitchen towel to him – the man was already wearing his own. “Ezra, are you okay?”

“I– yes my dear, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Did you catch anything of what I just said?” Anthony asked.

Ezra glanced down and shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“It’s okay. I know it can be a lot. Just put on your apron and put your towel over your shoulder– exactly, like that. You can use that to wipe your hands on when they get dirty or just feel, you know, icky.”

Ezra nodded and did as he was told.

“Alright, first things first, we’re going to separate our eggs. We’ll need four, so I’ll do two to show you how it’s done, and then you can do the final two,” Anthony said as he drew two bowls closer to them on the counter. “We’ll only be using our yolks, so we’ll use the large bowl for the egg whites and the shells so we can toss those out in one go. So, this will be our trash bowl, if you will.”

Next, Anthony took an egg from the carton on the counter, he tapped it lightly against the sleek, black marble. He brought it over the bowl and slowly opened the shell. “Okay, so this is the difficult bit. Look very closely, okay? We’ll just…” he trailed off. Ezra wasn’t surprised in the slightest. What Anthony was doing now, no doubt took a lot of concentration, as he hot-potatoed the yolk from one half of the egg shell to the other, as lumps of egg white dripped into the large bowl below. When little more than the yolk remained, he gently dropped the jiggly orb into the smaller bowl beside it.

“See? It’s a little hard to explain, but I hope I did okay,” Anthony smiled nervously.

Ezra nodded. “You did marvellously.”

“Great! So, I know cracking the shell on the counter can be a bit hard at first, and it’s easier to determine where the crack will go if you do it on the edge of the bowl because it’s a smaller surface, but it also increases the risk of breaking the yolk. So, if you do it that way, you’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I think you’ll find that Careful is my middle name,” Ezra huffed, adjusting his bow tie. It didn’t need adjusting, but he liked the drama it added.

“Your middle name is Zacharie,” Anthony laughed. He took another egg from the carton and gently tapped it against the edge of the bowl. It cracked exactly where he tapped it, but it also ran deeper than when he tapped it against the counter. Again, Anthony turned it over to completely open the egg and hot-potato the yolk from one half to the other, then once more deposited the yolk in the bowl. 

“Don’t you get smart with me,” Ezra mock threatened.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Anthony smiled. “Well, your turn,” he said, handing Ezra an egg before wiping the egg white from his hands on the towel over his shoulder.

“Okay, let’s see…” Ezra mumbled as he tried to visualize everything Anthony just did. He tapped the egg against the edge of the bowl, turned it over and opened the shell– only to find mixed yolk and egg white dripping into the bowl below. “Shit,” Ezra hissed.

Anthony’s eyebrows seemed to rise off his forehead, but wisely, the man said nothing as he handed Ezra the next egg. “No harm done. Just be a little more gentle.”

Ezra nodded as he tapped the egg against the edge of the bowl again. He turned the egg, opened the shell to find his yolk intact in the shell in his left hand.

“Right! Now just pour the egg white from the shell in your right hand– yes, exactly like that. Now, pour the yolk into the empty shell– very good, now empty your left shell– good, and put the yolk into the empty shell again– fantastic! Now you can put your yolk with the others.”

Pride bubbled up in Ezra’s chest. He did it! He successfully separated an egg! He had to be grinning like an idiot by now, but he didn’t care. He did it. With a level of boldness he’d rarely expressed in someone else’s house, he took another egg from the carton and repeated the process. Once there were four yolks in the small bowl, he hazarded a look at Anthony again, who beamed back at him with pride.

“See, angel? Nothing to it.”

Ezra nodded in agreement. “Nothing to it. What’s next?”

“Next, we make our custard,” Anthony said as he fired up his ceramic cooktop to medium-low. Ezra could have sworn he’d seen the cooctop’s manual lying around in the kitchen before they started cooking, but he quickly filed it away as Anthony picked up the carton of heavy cream and a set of measuring cups. “We’ll need three quarters of a cup of this…” he mumbled as he poured the cream into the cup and then dove into his drawers for a saucepan, which he then placed on his cooktop. Without much ceremony, he poured the heavy cream into the saucepan, chased by two tablespoons of the sugar. “This next bit will be very tricky,” he said, picking up the bowl with the egg yolks, pouring them into the saucepan a little more carefully. “Because, when making custard, you can’t allow the mixture to boil, or it’ll be… not custard.” Anthony picked up a whisk from the rack by the cooktop and handed it to Ezra. “But the first bit is easy. Just whisk it to mix it. It’ll need to warm up until it’s thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.”

Ezra nodded, nervously but excitedly took the whisk and carefully mixed the eggs, the cream and the sugar together. He wasn’t sure the fact that Anthony had turned around to break up the bar of chocolate into little pieces made him more comfortable or less, but he supposed he liked to have some sort of faith put in him in the kitchen. Eza peered over the edge of the saucepan. The custard was beginning to thicken. He found himself smiling proudly again. He gave the custard another whisk, picked a wooden spoon off the rack by the cooktop and dragged the back of it across the surface of the custard. It dripped off in thick wads. “I think it’s ready,” Ezra said, taking the saucepan off the stove and showing it to Anthony.

Anthony turned and took a look. “I think so too,” he said, laying a hand on Ezra’s shoulder and patting it slightly. “On to the next step?”

“On to the next step.”

Anthony stepped aside to reveal the chocolate sitting in a bowl, with a sieve hanging over it. “Alright, so you just pour it into the sieve that’s meant to catch the lumps, if there are any, which I doubt.”

Ezra poured the thick substance into the strainer and scraped the very last out of the saucepan with a wooden spoon. Meanwhile, the custard that dripped from the strainer was warming and melting the chocolate. 

The few lumps that had formed, Anthony pushed through the sieve with the back of the spoon. “That’s that,” the man mumbled absently as he put the saucepan and the whisk into the sink. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes until the chocolate is melted enough to mix it properly, so I’ll clean these up real quick.”

Ezra nodded, even as his fingers itched to help Anthony. Sure, he was here to learn, but washing up was something he knew how to do and he wasn’t about to make Anthony do all the work. Instead, he settled for watching the chocolate melt at the excruciatingly slow pace that waiting brought with it.

“Eager to continue, huh?” Anthony asked from behind him. Ezra nearly jumped. 

“Actually, I would much rather have helped you washing up,” the older man said with what he was sure was a pout.

Anthony raised his hands in self-defense. “Will do. Promise,” he said in an attempt to de-escalate, but Ezra nudged him in the arm, identifying his pout as a friendly gesture. “Well, that chocolate looks about melted,” he said as he handed Ezra the wooden spoon again. “I’m sure you know what to do with this.”

Ezra nodded and stirred the still warm custard and the chocolate together. “You know, if you told me we could just eat this for dessert, I would believe you,” he said as he watched the dark brown liquid drip off his spoon.

“Well, you could,” Anthony said, but judging by his face, there was a ‘but’ on the horizon. “But I’m sure it’ll be much better once it’s finished,” he continued as he took the bowl and put it in the refrigerator to cool down.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re sure’? Haven’t you made this before?”

An apologetic smile formed on Anthony’s face. A half-hearted attempt at a shrug was made. Ezra knew all he needed to know.

“Well then, you’d better be right. Or you’ll never hear the end of it,” Ezra said matter-of-factly, but he was sure Anthony knew it was an empty threat.

“Just to start us off on more-or-less more equal ground. I didn’t have any recipe for chocolate mousse, so I just looked it up on the internet.”

“If you say so.”

“And I say so,” Anthony said as he dove into another drawer of his kitchen, re-emerging with a mixer in hand. He pulled another bowl closer to them and poured in the remaining one and a quarter cup of cream, followed by another two tablespoons of sugar. He plugged the mixer into the socket by the cooktop and handed it to Ezra. “Okay, so what you want to do, is start it off slowly–”

Ezra cursed his nervous thumbs. The mixer turned on at full force, splattering them and everything around them. Silently, Ezra was grateful for Anthony’s minimalist approach to decoration, especially in his kitchen.

Anthoný’s fingers flew around Ezra’s hand and the mixer and quickly turned it off. Not too much cream had flown out of the bowl, but neither of their aprons covered enough of them to have protected their shirts and their faces from the barrage of white droplets. Ezra was nervous to look at Anthony, until he felt the man shaking against him. A second later, the sound of suppressed laughter filled his ears until the man leaned back and let out a loud, hearty laugh. 

Ezra chortled as well. “I don’t suppose that’s why one wants to start the mixer off slowly?”

“That’s exactly the reason,” Anthony smiled as he wiped the cream of his perfect cheekbones with the towel on his shoulder. “May I?” he asked as he extended a hand towards Ezra, who gladly parted with the mixer. Anthony put it on its slowest setting and began to beat the cream again.

Ezra watched with wonder as the cream stiffened up under the ministrations of the mixer, which was gradually turned up higher as the cream grew more firm. “This looks so much better than the whipped cream you get from the cans at the supermarkets.”

“It is, actually. D’you want to know how I know the cream is firm enough?”

Ezra was overcome with the sudden feeling that Anthony was about to do something extremely dumb, but in the kitchen, he trusted the man blindly, so against the feeling in his gut, he nodded.

Anthony responded to this by picking up the bowl, mixer not included, holding it over his head, and turning it upside down.

It stuck.

“You have no idea how relieved I am right now,” Ezra said with a nervous chuckle.

“As am I,” Anthony said, flipping the bowl upside up and putting it back down. “If that hadn’t worked, I would have looked like a complete fool.”

“Like we both do, right now?” Ezra suggested, wiping the specks of cream from his face and hair with his towel before reaching up to get the ones in Anthony’s hair as well.

“Well, if you insist that we do,” Anthony said with a smile. Ezra could swear he leaned into his touch ever so slightly. “Shall we finish up this mousse, though?”

“And finally have dessert? My pleasure.”

“Solid reasoning.” Anthony opened the fridge and brought out the chocolate custard, picking a rubber spatula from the rack by the stove which he handed to Ezra. “Alright then, I’ll hold this bowl over the whipped cream, you scrape all of this into that bowl below and then I’ll fold the cream and the custard into each other.”

Now, emptying a bowl was something Ezra knew he could do. Confidently, he scraped the custard into the bowl before handing the spatula back to Anthony. “There we go.”

“Thank you,” Anthony said with a smile, and set to folding the mousse together. 

Cooking was fun, Ezra realized. Not just to make something deliciously decadent, but also to help out Anthony and watch him work. Who knew the man with the small appetite was also arguably the most passionate about cooking. With the flick of his wrist – or three, or four – holding the spatula with long and slender fingers, Anthony expertly combined the two mixtures together into something Ezra was sure would melt on his tongue.

“According to the recipe,” Anthony started, derailing Ezra’s train of thought before it could go somewhere unsavoury, “we have to chill this first, and then bring it up to room temperature before we can try this. Now, I personally think that’s a waste of time…” he trailed off.

“And I would be inclined to agree,” Ezra said. 

“Good!” Anthony said and bolted over to his cabinets and produced two stylish and spotless white, square plates. On both of them, he put a generous dollop of the chocolate mousse and sprinkled some shavings of the leftover chocolate over them. Before Ezra could do anything to them, Anthony brought them to the table, set one down at each of their seats and poured them both a new glass of wine.

Ezra was happy to take his place back at the table and picked up his dessert spoon almost immediately. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun in a kitchen. Actually, I’ve probably never had this much fun in a kitchen to begin with,” he said, quickly taking a sip of his wine as he realized how that could be misconstrued.

Anthony seemed to ignore this and simply smiled. “I’m glad you had fun, then. Do you think you could do this again Friday? I mean, I can still help, if you want me to.”

“You know, I actually think I could. But if you wouldn’t mind keeping me company, I’d love to have you with me?”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all, you know me. Eager.”

“Well then, shall we taste-test the fruits of our labour?” Ezra suggested, scooping up some of the dessert on his spoon.

“Great idea,” Anthony said, doing the same. “Three, two, one.”

Ezra put the spoon in his mouth and watched as Anthony did the same. It was everything Ezra had hoped it to be. It was light and fluffy, but rich in flavour. The bitterness of the chocolate, offset by the sweetness of the custard and the cream. It practically melted away on his tongue. It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the man sitting across from him. He felt himself lean over the table, felt his hand seeking a smooth chin, felt lips finding lips and tasted the same decadence in the other man’s mouth.

[honeymoonjin]

A/N - I’m back into the swing of things at last! I hope you enjoy this one, there’s a veeery big development in the second half that I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on.

LOST IN TRANSLATION

↳What do you do when you have no qualifications but want to see the world? You help teach English in a Korean primary school, apparently. ↳Principal!Jin, math teacher!Yoongi, PE teacher!Hoseok, English teacher!Namjoon, school nurse!Jimin, art teacher!Taehyung, and science teacher!Jungkook.

CHAPTER EIGHT ↳You seek advice from an unlikely friend, and come home to an odd sight.

Teacher Min’s house is…well, calling it a house is a stretch. But the small building he shares with a unbelievably fluffy and snobbish Persian cat is cosy if a little untidy, something you weren’t expecting from the grouchy math teacher.

“Gus,” the dark haired teacher calls out from the kitchen as you perch awkwardly on the stool beside the bench, “I’m sick of you making a mess with your dinner, don’t make me give you biscuits again.” An angry yowl gives you a fright, and you see the cat in question winding between Min’s legs with a crumpled up face. “Well, I’m sick of stepping in pate, okay? That’s the third sock this week.”

You watch with wide eyes as he peels off his socks and uses them to bend down and wipe off the smear of cat meat on the kitchen floor. You had to admit that you much preferred Miso, Jimin’s cat, who was gentle and sweet and loved tummy rubs. “What help you’re needing?” Before he can scoff and make fun of your Korean again, you correct yourself. “I mean, what help do you needing? Do you need. Sorry, it’s very late.”

Min stands up and chucks the soiled socks out of the kitchen. They land on the carpet of the hallway and you wonder what he could have possibly been aiming for. He tucks his elbows back and arches his spine in a deep stretch, and you can’t help but stare silently at the way the buttons on his button-down strain against the tension. He sighs in relief and goes lax again, slumping against the bench. “We’re having Mathletics training three times a week, and the competition is a month away, so I’ll need twelve lots of resources, preferably on PowerPoint. I have all the stuff ready to go, but I just need you to put them onto PowerPoint slides for me.”

You nod slowly. “If you want it, I can teach you and you can do it.”

His face crumples in a frown. “Absolutely not. Being an old-fashioned Scrooge is my whole charm. It makes me endearing.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Nobody liked Scrooge when he was Scrooge. They like Scrooge when he’s nice. If you are nice, you have many friends.”

His eyes waver, then drop to the floor as he turns around and busies himself, pulling some rice in a takeout container out from the fridge and getting it ready for the microwave. “Okay, Strawberry Shortcake, how many friends have you made so far if you’re so much nicer than me?”

You can only see his back now, and with his voice so low and flat, you can’t tell if he’s messing with you or genuinely annoyed at your comment. “I hope at least one.” You let the comment hang in the air suggestively, and once the microwave lights up and his job is done, he turns around again, with a much softer look on his face.

“I thought you said nobody liked Scrooge?”

You shrug. “He had one friend too. Ghost. Bob Marley.”

Min rewards you with a full body laugh, his shoulders shaking and his grin so wide you could see him gums. When he calms down, he shakes his head fondly. “Not Bob Marley, Y/n, Jacob Marley. But thank you anyway.”

You think back to what Taehyung had told you earlier today, about how to address males older than you, and put on your sweetest smile. “You’re welcome, oppa.” Your face falls when he shudders and shakes his head. “Is this incorrect?”

“No, no, it’s just… You can call me Yoongi, okay? Yoongi-oppa if you’re sucking up. But not just oppa.”

“Oh. I’m very sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Teacher M- well, Yoongi crosses the kitchen so that he’s leaning forward on the bench you’re on the other side of and fixes you with a serious stare. “Y/n, who told you to call men oppa?”

The intensity of his eyes narrowing in on you makes you feel like you’re in trouble. “No one,” you reply weakly.

He shakes his head slowly. “Don’t lie. You haven’t done anything wrong, it’s not bad, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You feel unbelievably small. “I don’t understand.”

“Just saying ‘oppa’ is very, uh, intimate. It’s for those you’re really close with. Like actual siblings, or… Just be careful.”

You bite your lip. “You’re my friend?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t mad at me?”

“No, of course not.”

Fiddling with your hands, you avoid Yoongi’s gaze. “Taehyung, today at the museum.” The microwave beeps loudly, two blips, but his attention on you doesn’t waver, patiently waiting for you to explain. “He said to say oppa, then… Oh, I shouldn’t say,” you trail off unsurely.

“He kissed you?” You glance up hastily, and Yoongi sends you a sheepish smile. “He actually came by my office right after the trip looking for advice.”

Your eyes widen. “Really? What did he say?”

Yoongi taps the side of his nose with his forefinger. “Private conversation, little lady. Don’t worry, I promised him I wouldn’t go to the principal. He knows it’s inappropriate and it won’t be happening again.”

You nod and give him a small smile. “I don’t want him becoming in trouble. Or me.”

“Getting in trouble,” Yoongi corrects, and shoots you a rueful smile. “I figure it’s more constructive to correct your Korean than to just make fun of it, yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t want him getting in trouble. Should I do Powerpoint now?”

Yoongi hums in confirmation as he turns around to take the steaming plastic container out of the microwave. “Sure, we can eat while we work. It might take a while, but I’d rather get it all done at once. Go sit at the table, make yourself comfortable.”

--

Yawning loudly, Yoongi heaves his fat cat off of his lap to stand up. “Job well done, I’d say.”

His yawn triggers your own. It was getting really late; you had already texted Jimin not to wait up around 10pm, and now it was nearing midnight. It had taken longer than expected; the science teacher had apparently seriously fucked with his settings, and the majority of your time was spent removing and adjusting different settings as they cropped up. Some Yoongi knew of, like changing his signature to Lil Meow Meow, and Jungkook deleting all fonts off Microsoft Word except Curlz MT, Comic Sans and Chiller. Most of the tricks were uncovered gradually, like predictive text changing the word ‘hypotenuse’ to a word you had never seen before, but that made Yoongi somehow simultaneously go dead pale and blush violently.

But finally you were done, and you were looking forward to collapsing in your bed and getting us much sleep as you could before you had to be up in less than six hours. God, why did you offer to help the teachers?

In the end, you and Yoongi drove home in silence. You, just focusing on staying awake, and him probably regretting offering you a ride. You were expecting to let yourself in the house, tiptoe to your bedroom and hope you didn’t wake Jimin, but what you didn’t expect was that Jimin wasn’t even in his room.

Your feet stilled on the plush carpet of the hallway as you stared into the living area. On the couch, Jimin lay fast asleep. But he wasn’t alone. The television, now playing infomercials on mute, lit up the face of the man entangled with him. The science teacher that had eaten breakfast with you this morning. Jeon Jungkook.

It was clear that they hadn’t intended to fall asleep on the couch. Apart from the TV that was still on, there were two half-empty wine glasses on the coffee table, with a candle flickering dangerously low between them. Jimin was upright, face tilted up on the back of the couch, and Jungkook was turned towards him, with his head on Jimin’s chest and a hand up under his hoodie.

You quickly drew the conclusion of what you had walked into. This was a classic date-night-in, only they probably hadn’t intended to end it in full view of you returning home. It was sweet, the way Jimin’s arm wrapped around Jungkook’s back so firmly, even in sleep, and it’s not like you thought it was wrong at all, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding on a private moment. How could you possibly pretend like you hadn’t seen anything? But on the other hand, how could you possibly tell them you had?

You liked both of them as friends, but you figured you weren’t close enough to discuss it with them. Tentatively, you crept down to your bedroom and fell asleep in your work clothes.

--

“Milk or sugar?”

You smile softly. “Both, please.” You were sat at the kitchen table again, across from Jungkook who was noisily chowing down on some buttered toast that he had stacked up into some strange sandwich. Jimin was pottering around the kitchen making coffee. “You do not need to wake up early, you know. You both should sleep.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Jimin deflects, joining the two of you with three mugs of steaming, aromatic coffee. “We were awake, anyway. Jungkook came over just before you woke up.”

Jungkook, still in his clothes from yesterday and cheeks stuffed with bread, pauses then nods silently.

You slip your cold fingers around the mug, relishing in the heat that radiates through the ceramic. “Jimin said we could have sleeping over. Maybe it is easy when Jungkook is sleeping over here and not wake up so early.”

Jimin’s eyes widen a fraction but he schools his expression and looks over at Jungkook. “We, uh, I don’t have any other rooms. Just mine and the spare room, which is yours.”

Maybe you can’t outright tell them you’re okay with them spending time together, but you can always play innocent and push them in the right direction. “But Jimin-oppa’s bed is so big. There is room for sharing.”

Jungkook finally swallows his mouthful, rinsing it out with a sip of coffee. He keeps his head down, fiddling with the handle of his mug. “That would work,” he mutters lowly, “as long as hyung doesn’t mind.”

Jimin bites his lip, staring curiously at you. “It wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, two guys sharing a room?” Jungkook looks up quickly and glares at him meaningfully, but Jimin waves him off. “Most people here don’t like the idea of two men sleeping together.”

You know exactly what he’s doing; you’d done it yourself when you’d come out to your family as bisexual. Testing the waters. Running hypotheticals so that you could get a feel for their reaction before actually telling them. “If I am honest, I think South Korea is very, what’s the word? Old-way?”

“Old-fashioned?” Jungkook guesses. Both men are staring at you with what can only be a churning mess of fear and hope in their eyes. You know the feeling well.

“Yes, old-fashioned.” It was time for the olive branch. “Can I say something, and you won’t become angry to me?”

Jimin swallows hard and shares a look at Jungkook. He probably thinks you’re going to call him out on what you saw last night. “Of course, Y/n. Anything.”

“I don’t know the word in Korean, but I am liking a boyfriend and I am also liking a girlfriend, do you understand? Um, and when I am coming to Korea, I am scared, because I know some people are not so nice with girls wanting girlfriends. And boys wanting boyfriends.”

You glance down as the room descends into silence, mentally berating yourself. That was probably too much too soon, you think. What if you were wrong, and they were just affectionate dudes? “Maybe I shouldn’t have said-”

“Us too,” Jungkook blurts out. You look up at him with wide eyes. He lets out a heavy breath, and shoots Jimin a soft smile. “Shit, Jimin said you might not have seen us but I knew for sure you did, and I was so fucking worried that you were going to tell on us. Thank god.”

Your heart settles in your chest, relieved that you were past that awkwardness. “I didn’t know what to say. I want you to know I am happy for you and not mad.”

Jimin’s buried his face in his hands, and you see his shoulders begin to tremble. He looks up, and his eyes are red but there’s a smile on his face. “We haven’t told anyone,” he admits, “we were so careful, never letting anyone see us that close in public. Keeping a secret like this…” Jungkook silently stretches his hand across the table, and with another cautious glance at you, Jimin accepts, clutching tightly. “It’s nice to have someone to be honest with. I’m just really happy right now.”

Jungkook laughs joyously, standing up and giving Jimin’s hand one last squeeze before he’s leaving to dump his dishes in the sink. “I’m just glad we don’t have to sneak around at home for a whole year,” he calls out, “I don’t think I would’ve survived that.”

“Well, you are fine around me,” you state seriously, “I want to- Oh! Is that Coach Jung?”

Just after you notice the figure skipping up the steps, he raps loudly on the door.

Jimin gets up as you’re putting your coat on, and gives you a big hug. “We’re so lucky, you know,” he says afterwards, holding your shoulders fondly, “out of all the applicants we were sent, I’m glad Principal Kim picked you.” And with that, he opens the door and pushes you out. “Now, go on. We’re going back the fuck to bed. It’s too goddamn early.”

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[gladio-to-meet-you]

God of Destruction (ft the Chocobros, Nyx, and Luna)

This draws some instances from things that have happened to me, I'll leave y'all guessing which is real and which is fabricated

Not proofread, hope you guys enjoy it/maybe even get some laughs from this!

I’ll work on other prompts I have, but I may not post anything else today, idk for sure though

~~~

Ignis

You took it upon yourself to try and lighten the burden laid upon his shoulders since you managed to get put of work early. There was pep in your step as you hurried home to change and rush out to the store. You planned to surprise him with dinner! He'd have one less thing to do and you could prove that you did know your way around the kitchen, at least enough so that he didn't have to constantly cook for you guys. You pointedly decided to ignore the precious mishaps that had happened that he teasingly brings up every one in a while; you were better now!

After getting the necessary ingredients, you pay and leave and practically run home so you have time to finish everything. It all started off okay enough, you felt confident enough that things would work out. That was before you nicked your finger and had to clean and bandage it to avoid contaminating the food. While hurrying to the bathroom for the bandaids, you managed to knock a ceramic baking dish off the counter.

By the time Ignis walked in, ready to make dinner and just relax, talking about the day with you, he's met with an absolute mess. You're still in the kitchen, fingers covered with bandaids and cursing as you try to clean up the shards in the floor with smoke lingering in the room, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "Oh, honey, let me get that," he'd say and sweep you off your feet to deposit you on the couch where you wouldn't risk cutting your feet up. There would be a fond smile curling his lips as he opened the windows to air the place out and went for the broom, deciding take out sounded nice.

Prompto

He thought you were just exaggerating your bad luck with electronics until he had the privilege of living with you. Then he saw what you meant. The gaming system you guys bought together would only turn on and work right, not freezing, if he turned it on. The coffee pot would always make a mess the first time you used it and it would always come out tasting burnt. Your laptop was a lost cause. Your phone that was newer than his was spastic with you, you'd have to restart it once or twice a day and delete and reinstall apps to get them to cooperate.

But the best - the worst? - of this was that he accompanied you into your office one day so you could print some papers off to turn into your boss before the weekend and he got to see just how bad the electronics you used the majority of the day reacted. After an hour of computer problems and having IT come back two separate times for completely different issues, you pointed at your partner and gestured to the computer. "I don't want to be here all day, help!" You demanded in a small voice, stomping your foot, moments away from pouting.

He laughed a little at the situation but sat down and followed your instructions to find the particular file that needed printed off. Once the papers were handed in, he draped his arm around your shoulders as you guys left the building. "I thought you were kidding, babe, but technology hates you. But that's okay, I'll help you any day! In all seriousness though...why do you have an office job?"

Noctis

You decided that since Noctis had caught dinner, you’d try to help Ignis with cooking it. You forgot that since you guys were camping, that meant dealing with a campfire. You hadn’t ever done more than roast some marshmallows over the fire, you didn’t trust yourself. But since you had spoken up, Ignis gladly accepted your help.

So you sucked it up and followed his instructions very carefully, from helping him prepare the fish and the fire to actually starting the cooking process. You made sure you copied every moment he did so you wouldn’t mess it up. You were envious of the other three that were just sitting around, waiting for dinner to be ready. Noctis and Prompto were huddled together on their phones, probably playing King’s Knight, while Gladio appeared to be reading.

It wasn’t until you and Ignis both smelled something burning that you turned back to the fire, only to screech in alarm. You had somehow managed to catch your jacket on fire when you set it down?! You rushed forward and yanked it away, dropping it on the ground and immediately stomping on it to try and put the fire on the sleeve out. After you panic passed, you heard Noctis wheezing with laughter. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You really are a danger magnet,” he teased you as you all sat down around the fire with dinner, you sitting a bit further away than normal after that.

Gladio

He had been with you long enough to realize that if anything at all could go wrong, it probably would. He started carrying around a small first aid kit with him, knowing it would be used at some point by you. He’d seen you trip over nothing, break things with an ease that betrayed your small size, and he’s seen the really bad days where things just keep going wrong one after another.

He thought he had seen it all, but he was wrong. You guys went to one of the first places you had gone on dates to, hoping to recreate one of your first dates. While waiting on food, you mentioned running to the bathroom. He realized that by the time the food was delivered, you were still nowhere to be seen. Instead of freaking out like he would’ve when you guys first started dating, he just sent you a text inquiring where you were.You looked down at your phone and then back at the door that had been a barrier for that last couple minutes.

You hesitated on responding and tried turning the door knob to open the door again. Nothing. It wouldn’t budge. So you bit the bullet and sent Gladio an SOS message, requesting he get the owner to free you from the damn bathroom. You heard his laughter before he got within ten feet of the door so you stomped your foot as you pocketed your phone. “Stop laughing, Gladdy! It’s not funny!” You pouted as you heard the two men discuss the best way to handle it. In the end, the hinges were removed so the door could be moved out of the way and you could leave the bathroom. The owner was apologetic as he had been told before that the lock had been sticking and even let you guys eat for free.

Nyx

This man had seen your destructive powers in full swing before. You had gone to the bar together and you broke no fewer than five glasses in the span of ten minutes. You had managed to knock the table over and spilled everyone's drinks while simultaneously breaking them as they hit the ground. The owner was actually pretty cool about it, saying he had new glasses he hadn't been able to put into rotation yet, so it wasn't a big deal. The mess was cleaned up and your group was jokingly given plastic cups after that.

However, after that night he didn't expect it to get any worse, he thought he had seen it at its worst. Nope, not at all. He took you to a newer restaurant that members of the Glaive had told him about, saying it was great food for the price and he wouldn't regret it. He didn't regret the food. He regretted letting you drink there and allowing you to go to the bathroom unsupervised, knowing your luck got worse the more that you drank. You hurried out of the bathroom, eyes a bit wide, and giggles escaping your lips. You were glad Nyx had been in the process of paying the bill when you left the table because it would make for a quicker getaway this way.

You tried to school your face into a serious one, but your lips kept twitching and he eyed you cautiously, knowing something had happened. especially when you got back to the table and started grabbing the takeout containers. “We need to leave, now,” you whispered urgently. When you got out of there and to his car, you collapsed into the seat laughing until you were crying and gasping. He had to wait until you calmed down to hear your story, and even then it was interspersed with you laughing. He finally heard the story and couldn’t help but laugh in astonishment. You had heard someone in the bathroom make an “oop” sound and found out, by asking and revealing that you were probably as tipsy as they were that they had broken a handle off the sink. You went to the other sink and the hot water handle literally came off in your hand as you tried turning the water off. You had both replaced the handles and tried to discreetly leave the bathroom.

Luna

You made sure you spelled it out for Luna, how badly accident prone you were, how bad your luck seemed to be on the daily, but she waved your concerns away. You guys hadn't spent a full day together since you got together, both busy with your duties, but she had seen some of the cuts and bruises you came home with. She never brought them up because they were always minor though, trusting that you'd say something if you got into a fight or something. "Babe, I'm serious, I should just live life bubble wrapped in a protective bubble!"

She'd giggle at the mental image that would provoke and assure you, again, that everything would be fine on your date. It was like your luck took that as a challenge and accepted it with gusto. On the way to the little bistro you guys planned to eat lunch at, you tripped no less than three times and it was a short walk! You also almost fell into traffic when someone bumped into your side as they passed.

At the bistro, you expected things to calm down. Nope! You went to sit in your chair and when it shifted, you knocked your phone off the table and in the process of bending over to get it, you smashed your head into the edge of the table. When you jerked up from that, you rocked the table enough to rattle the drinks and splash them over the table. You paused to take a deep breath and reached for the napkins to clean up the mess while Luna was still at the counter and somehow managed to give yourself a damned paper cut from the napkins you had grabbed. "Luna, that's it, I'm done, I'm going home to live in my bubble!" You called to her with a pout. She giggled as she came back to make sure you were okay, deciding that maybe you hadn't exaggerated that much.