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luthienne · 4 years ago

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Louise Glück, from Averno

“Sometimes you leave your hair at the bus station & get on the bus & as your face falls asleep against the window you realize it is all your body now, everything between you & the pieces you lost once,”

Aracelis Girmay, from Kingdom Animalia; “Portrait of the Woman As a Skein”

Marie Howe, from Magdalene: Poems; “The Girl at 3″

“She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

“Many girls lock themselves up, / become pantries, closets. / Some, like trees, grow bark, / and others, like rivers, / burble into dimpled pools.”

Eli Mandel, from “Rapunzel (Girl in a Tower)"

“Sometimes I forget. I become a volatile spirit / a butterfly out of its wings, a blooming flower / in decay. I fall in love with ghosts and cry / when they flesh out,”

Mahtem Shiferraw, from Fuschia; “Being a Woman”

Aracelis Girmay, from “Portrait of the Woman as a Skein”

“Not every girl survives the forest. / Sometimes she becomes it.”

Catherine Garbinsky, from “The Princess & the Thorns,” Even Curses End

Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

“I was something else, not a girl, not a wolf, something blank-eyed, tired,”

Catherynne M. Valente, from The Bread We Eat in Dreams

“Shame fuses to silence letting the night maraud, killing bit by useless hope of not being this girl I was. Am. She is.”

Eimear McBride, from The Lesser Bohemians

“When I was a girl / and you were a girl / we were floral / and ungiveable. Squash / blossom. Bleeding / Hearts in the sideyard. / Vine, albino root. / Petals open only in the moonlight.”

Emily O'Neill, “Wedding Soup,” from Pelican

“Glory be to the girl who goes back for her body.”

Dominique Christina, from Star Gazer

“Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you’ll be—come, and frighten the girl you used to be.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, from Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 (tr. Yvette Siegert), “Paths of the Mirror”

“—if I could remember a day when I was utterly a girl and not yet a woman— / but I don’t think there was a day like that for me. / When I look at the girl I was, dripping in her bathing suit, or riding her bike, pumping hard down the newly paved street, / she wears a furtive look— and even if I could go back in time to her as me, the age I am now / she would never come into my arms without believing that I wanted something.”

Marie Howe, from What the Living Do: Poems; “The Girl”

“‘How strange it is to long for one’s self!’ she said; ‘and yet I often, so often, long for myself as a young girl. I love her as one whom I had been very close to and shared life and happiness and everything with, and then had lost while I stood helpless.’”

Jens Peter Jacobsen, from Niels Lyhne

Mary Oliver, from Blue Horses; “Blueberries”

“Your bare feet became a woman's feet, always saying two things at once.”

Louise Glück, from Descending Figure

“And I must choose. War before me, and behind, a woman I do not know, the woman I could have been, a human woman, whole and hot.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

Louise Glück, from “The Myth of Innocence”

“Beware your face, / your limbs, your walk: / Gods see these / as invitations. / Beware of swans. / They may lift you / but you will fall. / Beware of children / hatched from eggs, / unfledged and beautiful: / they will burn / cities to the ground. / Don’t be seduced by the gods, / my daughter. / Though you break / into song beneath them / you will remain broken.”

Jeannine Hall Gailey, from Becoming the Villainess; “Leda’s Mother Warns Her”

“What could I have grown up to be? What kind of human woman, what kind of simple, happy thing? If I had never been broken on a bird’s wing. If I had never seen the world naked. I want to be myself again… I want to stop knowing everything I know.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

“But I don’t really like what I know; I don’t really care for wisdom and experience. I would rather believe, and beat out my brains, and believe some more. I do not like this safe well-armed woman I have become. The loud bleating disheveled starry reckless failed girl was a better person.”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“a child with seafoam eyes / and dusky skin might cry, there / goes a girl with seven thousand years / at the hollow of her throat,”

Amal El-Mohtar, from ‘Song for an Ancient City’

“I say “her,” because I don’t recall having been present, not in any meaningful sense of the word. I and the girl in the picture have ceased to be the same person. I am her outcome, the result of the life she once lived headlong; whereas she, if she can be said to exist at all, is composed only of what I remember.”

Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin

“There were always in me two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning, and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.”

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Volume One, 1931-1934

“Come, let me suffer! That is worth more than viewing injustice with a serene countenance, as Shakespeare says. When I have drained my cup of bitterness, I shall feel better. I am a woman, I have affections, sympathies, and wrath.”

George Sand, in a letter to Gustave Flaubert

“Slapped the man’s face, then slapped it again, / broke the plate, broke the glass, pushed the cat / from the couch with my feet. Let the baby / cry too long, then shook him, / let the man walk, let the girl down, / wouldn’t talk, then talked too long, / lied when there was no need / and stole what others had, and never / told the secret that kept me apart from them. / Years holding on to a rope / that wasn’t there, always sorry / and righteous and wrong. Who would / follow that young woman down the narrow hallway? / Who would call her name until she turns?”

Marie Howe, “What I Did Wrong”

“She is a woman stranded at doorways and passivity is killing her. There is only one thing she can do. Make noise.”

Anne Carson, in her Introduction to Elektra

Audre Lorde, from The Black Unicorn: Poems

“Part of me died here / so another could go on.”

Marty McConnell, from “When They Say You Can’t Go Home Again, What They Mean Is You Were Never There”

“see, you will rise. / and are you less of a woman for this? / no / what is woman? / woman is this—enduring. / listen girl, you will survive this—you will. / but what fool said you had to do it silently? / here is a tip—scream”

Salma Deera, Letters From Medea, “medea gives advice to a young girl with a broken heart”

#compilation #quote compilation #words #the great wound #regarde comme ta fille est faite #long post #terfs dni #this is very long. but i needed to make it and every word was necessary so i am not sorry

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pinkjeanist · 4 years ago

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“cooking by the book!” || katsuki bakugou

⇥ When Bakugou teaches 1-A how to bake a cake for an upcoming festival, you can’t help but notice how he treats you a little nicer than the others. But that’s just your crush on him talking...right? [1.6k words]

a/n: this is named after that remix of “cooking by the book” from lazy town bc no other song captures the pure essence of bakugou and reader’s relationship. this was also largely inspired by the difference in how gordon ramsay treats kid chefs vs. adult ones.[navigation]

You should have known that taking cooking lessons from Bakugou wasn’t going to be easy. However, with the way he taught you differently from everyone else, you had to admit: it could have been a lot harder.

“You’re gonna bake a cake, today.” You looked down at the empty mixing bowl before you, biting the inside of your cheek. You’d heard that baking was somewhat difficult to begin with, including (but not limited to) cake, and for Bakugou to choose that as your first proper baking session ever made you a bit intimidated (though whether you were intimidated by him or the cake was unclear).

Another school festival was coming up, and your class was expected to bake for the guests, which would have been okay if both halves of your class were competent enough to use an oven. So here you were, standing behind one of the many kitchen counters, trying not to stare too much ahead at Bakugou. You caught yourself doing that a lot on the daily, and even if you sometimes caught him doing the same, it was rude on your part. So, long before you’d even stepped foot in the kitchen, you decided that you would put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand (which was already proving difficult).

After preheating the ovens, you all went back to your stations. You reached for the apron on the counter and slipped it over your head. Next to you, Kirishima asked his friend, “Are we supposed to do that?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that a question?” You paused in tying the apron behind your back as Bakugou raised his voice. “Yes, you dumbass! Who the hell doesn’t bake without an apron?!”

You nodded even as his shouting wasn’t directed towards you, and again attempted to tie the apron behind your back until you realized it just wouldn’t stay tied. You almost asked Kirishima or Mina to help you before Bakugou came over to grab the strings and do it himself. You went still, and didn’t quite hear him the first time when he mumbled, “Is that too tight?”

You swallowed. “It’s fine, thank you…”

He moved back in front of the counters again and tied his own apron. “You each have a recipe in front of you. Don’t use it unless you need it. If you listen to me, you won’t need it at all.”

You nodded and put your hands behind your back, not sure what else to do with them until he instructed the ten or so of you to find the flour. The others scrambled to the part of the kitchen you knew had flour somewhere around it, but you distinctly remembered there being another, smaller bag of it in a different pantry, so you went there instead. You retrieved it and presented it to Bakugou.

“Is this flour?”

He blinked. “No. That’s sugar.”

“Oh…”

“You’ll need it. Take it back to your station.”

“Oh, okay!” You smiled. Turning on your heel, you did as he instructed, and waited patiently until you were told to find the sugar (which you already had), baking soda, baking powder, cocoa, salt, and espresso powder. You tried to keep the list of the items in your mind as you turned to search for them, but found yourself at a loss.

It was your fault for only partially-listening when Bakugou had given the instructions, but were you really to blame? He was wearing a sleeveless shirt under an apron that hugged him tight enough to show off his tiny waist. How were you supposed to have paid attention with that in front of you?

But you wouldn’t say any of that to him- never in a million lifetimes- so you were as quiet and unassuming as possible as you took the recipe from the countertop and went over it. You knew where the flour was, and you had the sugar, but looking around the kitchen, you couldn’t spot anyone with espresso powder, which you didn’t even know was a thing that was supposed to go in cakes, but that wasn’t the point. You stood, biting your lip, until Bakugou came over again.

“What are you confused about?” His voice was a lot softer than you expected it to be, seeing as how he’d done nothing but yell at everyone else (you couldn’t blame him. Cooking was just that big of a passion for some people), but you couldn’t complain. You looked down at the recipe to avoid his eye.

“I’m not confused, I just- I don’t know who has the espresso powder.”

Bakugou put a hand on your arm, and you tried not to melt under it as he shouted over your shoulder: “Who has the espresso powder?!”

“Is this it?” Kaminari lifted a large jar of brown powder over a sea of other bakers-in-training, which drew another rant from Bakugou about kitchen safety and do you want someone to get a concussion when you drop that?!, but you were still too focused on the weight of his hand. When he got done yelling, he squeezed your arm gently before looking down at you, and you swore you felt your heart stop before beating out of control.

“Go and get a teaspoon of espresso powder. I’ll announce everything else, but if you forget the measurements, just look at the damn recipe.”

You nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you, Bakugou.”

Walking away, he muttered a quiet “you’re welcome,” and you could only smile to yourself as you looked back down at the recipe.

Bakugou called out the measurements, and eventually, you had everything in the mixing bowl, and whisked through the powders until combined as instructed. You were then told to add milk (Bakugou measured that out for you without you needing to ask) and add two eggs (he did that for you, too) with vegetable oil and vanilla. Once you had everything in, you began to stir it, but apparently, whatever you were doing was wrong, because he moved behind you to take your hands in his on the side of the bowl and on the paddle.

“You have to be more rough with it,” He muttered, moving your hands at a faster pace. “Or you’re gonna be standing here for three hours until it finally mixes.”

You couldn’t even find the words, anymore. The voice that constantly nagged you in the voice told you that you were doing everything wrong, and that you were helpless for needing his assistance with each and every step, but you really couldn’t complain. Another voice told you that you were actually doing well and that he was helping you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated, but you pushed that thought back. You knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. (Could it, though? (No. No it couldn’t.))

After he decided it was mixed to his satisfaction, he stepped away and went to observe Kirishima’s bowl.

“Is it supposed to be this kinda poop brown?”

“Never fucking say that again about food. And what the fuck is this? Stir it!” Bakugou grabbed the bowl and stirred it with vigor while Kirishima stood by and laughed. He didn’t hold Kirishima like he’d held you. And as he went around to stir the bowls of others, he didn’t even lay his hands on those faring worse than you. You furrowed your brow, but elected to continue stirring to keep yourself busy.

You were then told to put the batter in the two prepared pans in front of you, with the word “evenly” stressed after the fact. Bakugou again walked over to you as you got done. “Is this okay?”

He huffed. “This one has more batter, but it’ll do. Go put them in the oven.”

You nodded and put the pans in the oven, nearly dropping and spilling one on the way before catching it- but other than that, they went in smoothly. Over the next half hour, you took Bakugou’s advice and used a toothpick to check the center of the cakes, and sat on the flour-covered counters in the meantime while they baked. Bakugou came to sit by you while you twiddled your thumbs.

“You did a good job today.”

You looked at him, then immediately back to the oven with wide eyes. “Oh. I-I feel like I messed everything up, to be honest…”

“You did fine. You didn’t mess anything up.” He didn’t look at you, so you both kept staring at the oven, afraid of eye contact.

You hesitated before saying, “Thank you for helping me.” After a moment, you added, “You’re a really good teacher.”

“I know.” His head whipped over to where Kaminari was about to eat a spoonful of cinnamon, and chucked a wooden spoon at his back. “Not in my kitchen, asshat!”

You actually giggled at that, which was even more embarrassing with him looking at you afterwards. You quieted yourself soon after and shoved your hands into your lap.

“Why do you do that?”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“You always stop laughing. You laugh enough with your friends but never with me. Stop doing that.”

“Who says you’re not my friend?” You asked before you could stop your tongue, then meeting his eye. You desperately wanted to look away, but the need for a connection with him was too strong. “You are. My friend, I mean. Uhm.”

“So laugh if I do something funny. It pisses me off when you don’t.” He hung his head to mess with his hands, and you grinned shyly to yourself as you turned away.

“Okay.”

When the cakes were pulled from the oven, Bakugou was by your side the most, helping stack the layers and frosting it with chocolate buttercream. In which, when your hand brushed against his as you frosted the cake, you didn’t shy away from him. You each stole little glances, meeting one another’s eye every now and again (which was starting to become less uncomfortable each time).

You thought your cake was a little dry. He said it was the “best fucking thing” he’d ever eaten.

taglist: @keigos-dove @knifeewifee @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds @hanniejji @katsukis-sad-angel

other tag/s: @pixxiesdust

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist.

#katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #tw: language

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aaalllice · 3 years ago

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a vacation to become more? (pt.2) - Alex Høgh Andersen

pt.1 pt.3 pt.4

Warning : slight sexual tension

good reading

~~~~

I wake up with the daylight, walk to the window to see the weather, it looks nice, I go to my suitcase to get dressed but a good smell enters the room.

Alex is a good friend, he doesn't care if I go down to the kitchen dressed in my pajamas So that’s what I do, at the bottom of the stairs, I can see him from behind, he’s shirtless, his back is so well sculpted, how it is possible?, it’s muscle moves in rhythm with his movements, a sudden urge to give him a back hug .

He goes to a room next to the kitchen, maybe the pantry, I take the opportunity to go to see what he's cooking , scrambled eggs and bacon, classic but super good, I’m hungry all of a sudden,I hear him coming back.

Damm it, I was sure that I had bought more eggs ; he said with an annoyed look

Good moooorning ; I say with a piece of bacon in my mouth.

he lifted up his head, with a big smile

I thought you’d never wake up ; he said

I sat on a bar chair, he sat in front of me putting breakfast between the two of us.

you could have called the firemen to see if I was okay, aaand I heard in Denmark they’re pretty sexy ; i said with a wink, I take another bite.

Why , I’m here, I could have checked, you know the sleeping beauty ? ; he said raising his eyes from his plate and smiling in the corner.

I rolled my eyes

you think it’s going to be nice today, I want to do some sightseeing ; I take a piece of bacon

I think yeah, but you should get a jacket in case ;

ok ok ; he was reading something

What you reading ;

the new Vikings script, but it’s none of your business ;

Really, that’s so cool let me read !

No way ;

Come on, please my friend ; he looked up at me with an annoyed look

No fucking way, my friend ; He took a bite of his breakfast, and I stole the script.

he got up from his chair, and I backed up

give ;

Wait I’m reading ; I kept backing up and moved him forward

Y/n ;

I am not finished ; say I with a wide smile on the face, but eyes continued to read

he comes running at me, I dodge him and go upstairs, I lock myself in my room, I hear him shout my name and laugh at the same time.

I sit against my door to finish reading, Alex knocked like a madman always laughing against the door.

my eyes went through the lines of text, when I block on a sentence

A feeling of sadness appeared in me, I stood up, and put my hand on the handle

Lucky boy ; I opened the door and he threw himself at me, we fell to the ground, I kept laughing with him

Come on, give it back ; I handed it to him, he looks at the page where I stopped

I can’t wait to see the new season ; I said always on the floor

Your never watch Vikings what you’re talking about ; He says, looking down on me

I just have to motivate myself, that’s all ; say I look up to heaven

Yeah, that’s it, well then how you find this scene ; he looks at me with a perverse look

what scene ; i say, looking away

oh come on, tell me, you imagine me shirtless in the bedroom, pass by the fire of the path that will reveal my incredible abs ; he was put on the side always on the ground

Stop it, you idiot ; he sat next to me and put his arm around my neck

I will go straight to the bed, with a deep look on my face, and climb on the sheets, and run straight for your neck ; it was close to my neck, and my breathing had increased

Humm, my neck? ;

your delicious neck ; I began to laugh softly

too bad it’s not with me you’re at the scene with ;

that could be arranged ; I felt his breath against my neck

Get out of here, I gotta get dressed ; he cleared his throat

Outside ; he kissed me on the cheek

okay ; he gets up and hands me so much to help me up

you don’t want me to help you dress ;

Get out of here, you pervert ;

I throw one of my shoes in his face and he leaves laughing and closes the door behind him .

good after that vasi to dress up with a jacket, I’m still super hot

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex and you aesthetic : https://www.pinterest.fr/aaalllice/just-alex-and-you/

That is pt.2

Soon pt.3

if you have any requests tell me

kiss

#alex høgh andersen #alex andersen #alex hogh andersen #alex x reader #alex hogh #alex hogh x reader #alex hogh andersen x reader #xredear #pt. 2 #a vacation to becaume more

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

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hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??

Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best.

That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds.

(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.)

Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with.

…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible.

It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come.

When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.”

Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy.

It’s an odd strategy.

Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.”

“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick.

“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.”

They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is.

“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?”

“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.”

“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?”

“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.”

“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.”

“Okay asshole, any recommendations?”

“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.”

Rhodey looks at the menu.

He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake.

“You traitor.”

“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-”

Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs.

Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping.

Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t.

Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him.

“You think you broke a racing record with that?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?”

Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.)

“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?”

“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?”

“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ��about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.”

Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief.

The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments.

Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind.

The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer.

Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to.

(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.)

It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone.

It was...bad.

The problem is this:

Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military.

But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back.

He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair.

“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.”

Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair.

“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?”

“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.”

“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?”

“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!”

Tony stares at him. Really stares at him.

“Let’s go home.”

Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey.

They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying.

But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight.

Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying.

And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed.

He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could.

He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast.

Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt.

“You’re...up,” Tony says.

Rhodey turns around.

“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?”

“Omelet.”

“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.”

“You want one?”

“You gonna make me one?”

“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?”

“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?”

“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.”

“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning.

Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone.

“You sleep okay?”

“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.”

“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.”

“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.”

Rhodey stares at Tony.

“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?”

“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says.

“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says.

“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?”

“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.”

Tony looks at him.

“You’re really honest.”

“I try to be.”

“I love that about you.”

Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice.

“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.”

“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god, do not.”

“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?”

Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem.

There’s an...understanding.

Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session.

Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat.

“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.”

Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice.

He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going.

The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there.

He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified.

Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...

He’s knocked unconscious.

When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out.

And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.”

Tony smiles a bit at that.

Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.

And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke.

Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.)

This is nothing.

But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out.

“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers.

“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters.

“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.”

“You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah she would!”

“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.”

“Shit.”

Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs.

He’s kind of embarrassed.

Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that.

Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it.

He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it.

They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it?

It can’t be...

It is.

Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already.

Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to.

Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa.

“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-”

“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don’t get napped by terrible, shitty people.”

“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says.

“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases.

“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.”

“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?”

“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles.

Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand.

“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

(They don’t get a new bodyguard.

No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things.

Rhodey finds it hilarious.)

#longer night than usual for me which meant more time to work on this beauty #this has been in my inbox for months #so my apologies #but uhhhh i still did it! which is good #lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhfe #rhodey #tony stark #pepper potts #rhodey is in love and so is tony and they're both so LAME about it #tony doesn't really care about being kidnapped #meant to make this more angsty but was not feeling it

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jobrookekarev · 4 years ago

Text

The Batter Always Taste Better

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 1820

Summary: Jo comes home to see Alex baking cake and steals a taste for herself and her baby.

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, and OC:Helena Karev.

Rating: Gen. Audiences.

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff and Chocolate Cake.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: For Belle @only-freakin-sunflowers, Happy Birthday!

……………………………………………………………………

Jo walked through the door of the house and was greeted with the wonderful and excited squeals of her seven-month-old baby girl. Helena up as she excited squeals reach her ears as she bounces up and down so excited to see her. Helena stood against the baby gate that separated the mudroom from the kitchen of their new house. Jo quickly took off her shoes and dropped everything to pick up her baby.

“There's my girl, are you excited to see me? I’m so excited to see you!” Jo said as she leaned down and picked Helena up. Jo planted a dozen kisses on her cheeks as Helena grasped at her shirt and babbled to her. “Where Daddy is should we go find him?”

Jo put Helena on her hip and opened the baby gate before she turned the corner out of the pantry and into the kitchen. what greeted her was her husband standing in a mess of box cake mix which was scattered around the counter along with other various ingredients and store-bought frosting and sprinkles. Alex looked up from the box of cake mix to greet her with a warm smile.

“Hey you,” Alex said, putting a box down and wrapping his arms around her waist as he greeted her with a kiss. “Long day?”

“Ugh yes, I delivered three babies today, one of which was an emergency C-section. Just when I finished up with one mom another one went into labor, I barely even got a chance to see my clinic patients,” Jo said, as she kissed Alex again before she moved to sit on a stool in the kitchen.

Jo put Helena on the counter as she held her and continued to coo at her baby. The long days were hard, especially since she couldn't pick up Helena from daycare, but she made sure to spend extra cuddle time with her when she got home.

“Sounds like my day, I had two appendectomies, one anaphylactic shock, and one kid with a Lego so far up his nose we had to put him under just to get it out. I spent nearly the entire day in the ER in the OR,” Alex said as he went back to stirring the big bowl of chocolate cake mixture.

“I didn't miss somebody's birthday did I?” Jo asked leaning over the counter to see.

“No, but apparently, it's our turn to bring a snack for the daycare class tomorrow, so I thought I'd make chocolate cake?” Alex said as he mixed up the batter with the spatula.

“Alex cake is not a snack, a dessert yes, but not a snack,” Jo said as she blew raspberries at Helena who giggled and tried to grab at Jo's mouth.

“Yeah well, I'll send along some ants on a log or something,” Alex said with a shrug as he turned around to grab the eggs out of the fridge.

With his back turned to her, Jo reached over and stole the spoon from the bowl, licking off the chocolate batter before Alex could react. Helena reached for the spatula as well, but Jo pulled back and took another lick as Helena squealed in protest.

“Seriously,” Alex asked, turning around and setting her with the look as he reached for another spatula.

Jo only smirked and raised her eyebrows at him and continued to lick off the rest of the cake batter from the spatula. Alex looked up and scoffed when Jo gave the spatula to Helena who eagerly put it into her mouth, her eyes going wide as she tasted the batter.

“Really Jo, it's bad enough that you do it, but you're teaching our kid to do it,” Alex said as he gestured to Helena who gnawed at the spatula in delight.

“Oh please if it's not the end of the world besides look at how happy she is,” Jo said Helena looked between both of her parents with a smile as she continued to chew on the spatula.

Alex’s glare dropped as he watched Helena and the softest little smile appeared on his face. Jo loved watching Alex with Helena, one smile from her and his grumpy attitude melted. He was absolutely head over heels in love with her, from the moment she was born. Helena had her Daddy wrapped around her finger and Jo knew she could get away with anything if Helena was with her. Which was why she reached for the new spatula and swiped more of the cake mix before Alex could react.

“Stop, what are you doing?” Alex said, reaching out to try and grab the spatula from her, but Jo just pulled back out of his reach, so he put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “It's for the daycare kids.”

“Kids or not, you can't stop me from enjoying cake batter,�� Jo said as she smirked at Alex and then shrugged. “Besides, there's a rule against bringing sweets. which you would know if you had actually read the instructions for the snack day.”

Alex continued to glare at her for a moment before he grabbed the piece of paper for snack day and quickly read it over. “Seriously since when is sugar off the menu?”

“Tyler K. is sugar-free and his mom makes a big fuss out of it, plus there's like two kids allergic to chocolate anyway,” Jo said with a shrug as Alex got that grumpy look on his face and she couldn't help but laugh.

“It’s a stupid rule, and I'm only changing the menu because there are kids that are allergic,” Alex gruffed as he dramatically tossed the paper away.

“Well their loss is our gain,” Jo just giggled as she continued to lick the spatula.

Alex leaned against the counter and seemed to come to play his next move as Jo looked down at Helena. She had licked the spatula clean, but was still completely focused on it as she happily gummed on the soft spoon. Jo reached out again and dipped her spatula back in the cake mix and grabbed another spoonful before Alex could protest again.

“Jo stop, you can't double-dip,” Alex said, moving the bowl away from her.

“Why? It's just the three of us, what's the big deal? You and I constantly swap spit when we kiss and it’s not like this little one doesn't drool all over us all the time. Besides, we're gonna bake it anyway,” Jo said with a shrug as she looked down at Helena and tickled her side. “Who cares about a few little germs between family, not you baby girl, no you'd happily drool over Mommy all day long.”

Helena excitedly squealed at her and swung the spatula around, almost hitting Jo in the nose, before she pulled back with a laugh. Jo continued to tickle her sides and Alex shook his head before he laughed too.

“Okay, enough,” Alex said, after Jo tried to get another spoonful of the batter. He grabbed the spatula from her hand and moved the cake mix over to the other counter. “Out of the kitchen or you won't get a piece of cake once I’m done.”

“Seriously?” Jo asked, setting him with her best puppy dog eyes and a pout.

“I mean it Jo, go play with Helena in the living room and stop stealing my cake batter,” Alex said, waving her off, not even giving her pout a second look.

Jo huffed as she picked up Helena and walked over to the living room. “You know once upon a time Daddy wasn't able to resist my puppy dog eyes.”

“That's a lie,” Alex shouted back at her as Jo threw him a dirty look.

Jo plopped down with Helena in her lap as she leaned against the couch in the living room. Ever before they brought her home from the hospital, their living room had become a second playroom for Helena. Her toys were scattered around and in bins under the side tables and the fancy rug they had bought had been replaced with a play mat. Helena crawled over to grab her favorites shape sorter box the two of them started sorting pieces. Even though they have been banished from the kitchen, Jo was happy to just spend time with Helena, especially after a long day at work. Soon enough the smell of baked cake filled the air and Jo patiently waited, despite how her mouth watered.

“Okay Princess here you go,” Alex said, bringing over two pieces of cake complete with frosting and one baby spoon.

“Yay,” Jo smiled in delight and couldn't help but bounce her legs and excitement. Helena bounced as well, jumping up and down in Jo’s lap as Alex walked over them, knowing that she would get a taste as well.

Alex smirked as he sat next to them taking in the sight of both his excited girls. “Like mother, like daughter.”

Jo just smiled as she grabbed a cake from the top of the place before Alex had even sat down next to her. “Thank you.”

She took a bite of the cake and moaned as it hit her taste buds. The warm chocolatey moist cake seemed to melt on her tongue. Alex smiled at her and got a spoonful for Helena, who immediately sucked it into her mouth. Jo and Alex laughed as her eyes widened and she tasted her first bite of cake.

“So was it worth the wait,” Alex asked if he smirked at her and ate his own piece of cake.

“Ah the batter always tastes better,” Jo shrugged as she struggled to keep a straight face, but she just had to tease him.

Alex just shook his head and laughed as he got another spoonful for Helena who had crawled over to his lap. The three of them sat on the floor and took turns feeding Helena cake.

“So what are you going to make for the daycare snack,” Jo said as she moved Helena’s hands away from her. Helena had crawled back over to her and was pulling at her top eager to nurse.

“Well I figured I'd just grab some fruit and the umm...” Alex said as he trailed off as he looked to where Helena had pulled down the front of Jo’s shirt and exposed her bra and cleavage.

“Like father, Like daughter,” Jo said as she shook her head and pulled up her shirt, and picked up Helena so she could get her settled to feed.

Alex shook his head and laughed as he put an arm over her shoulders leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek before and Jo leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. Alex grabbed the remote and flipped through a few shows as they decided what to watch and the family of three cuddled on the couch and enjoyed their cake.

#alex karev #helena karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic #otp: home and heart #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #jo wilson

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bbugyu · 4 years ago

Text

a dragon's kingdom

he never wanted to stop learning about you, and you never knew how much you needed him by your side.

part one | part two

wc.5009 | smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, royal au, princess!reader and knight!cheol, penelope is the best character, sex constantly, it's called the honeymoon stage, unprotected sex, lots of it, lk impreg kink?, confessions mid-coitus, oops she pukes (not during sex oh my god), food consumption, mentions of death & mental instability, lots of crying

why do i care so much about lore and names and backstory and motivation. anyways i've created an entire world if you wanna know about literally any person that is offhandedly mentioned in this fic i can give u their origin story, including he horses. this part is really story heavy but also pretty sex heavy so have fun!!! also im in love with seungcheol but what's new.

"this feels strange."

you hummed, pulling out a pair of pants from a drawer and holding it up to seungcheol. "what do you mean? wearing someone else's clothes?"

he shook his head no, looking around the bedroom you had brought him to with the promise of clean pants. you had gone through all the rooms, you told him, as you led him through the castle wearing a light tunic tucked into a pair of trousers. you'd collected the clothes you liked, that fit you, and brought them to the tower, but there was plenty that didn't fit your criteria, and you were pretty sure he would fit into the clothes in the third bedroom to the left of the kitchen, past the main dining hall, a room you had discovered to be a counselmen's quarters. "you've been gone for so long, but i was at the kingdom only yesterday."

you looked to him, folding the pants over your arm. "what's it like now?"

a wash of realization caught seungcheol off guard. "my god, you've missed so much."

he changed, insisting you looked the opposite direction despite the fact that you had already seen all of him only hours earlier, and you fiddled your fingers and joked about peeking, but only stole a glance when you heard him buckling a belt that had also been found in the room. you exited the couselmen's room and he helped you onto his horse, leading her down the hall in the direction you told him. you patted down calliope's black mane as she walked alongside seungcheol, listening to him describe the castle ground and all the changes that had been made in the last decade.

"the statue, in the fountain?" you nodded when he looked at you. "it's all three of you now. they added you and the queen probably six months after your disappearance."

"that doesn't sound like father."

seungcheol paused, looking up at you. "i didn't know the king personally until only a few years ago, but he's not the ruthless leader you knew him as any more. your loss changed him."

you should have been more interested in your own father, but you couldn't help the way your mind wandered to fond memories of the flowers and gardens. "are there still lilies?"

"yes, of course," he said. "one of the back gardens was planted in your honor, right by the gates. i've never seen so many colors of lilies in my life."

you were quiet for almost too long, and seungcheol looked to you, immediately noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. "does mother go there often?"

"hey, hey hey," he instantly mounted his horse behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder gently. "yes. every day."

you inhaled sharply, blinking your eyes rapidly to quell the tears. "she used to love roses," you started.

"she still does," he confirmed, and you didn't even realize that you had mourned for her as though she were dead.

"there's a garden here," you continued, wiping at your eyes and rubbing the moisture away on the pants you wore, seungcheol's hands resting on your stomach as he listened to you. "it was almost dead when i found it, but i take care of the roses there. i'll show it to you later."

seungcheol nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek, making you smile vaguely.

"there's a stable, also," you said, sniffing your nose. "you might recognize the horses. i suppose we should bring them back with us, as well."

he faltered. "from past missions?"

"only three," you clarified, gently nudging his steed around a corner towards the kitchens. "most of them ran to the fields, but three have stayed. i've named them. one had letters carved into its armor plate, but it was damaged - i could only read valerie."

"valkyrie," seungcheol said immediately. "tan colored horse, correct? with a white diamond on her head."

you turned in his grip. "yes, exactly!"

his stomach felt heavy suddenly. "she was captain varian's steed. he trained me for years, his mission was last fall."

"i'm sorry," you said, lacing your fingers with his on your lap as you recognized his loss. you thought of a year ago, when you had found the horse. you did your best to remember who had come at that time. "though it may not be consolation, i believe he was the one penelope ran from the grounds."

seungcheol's fingers tensed between yours. "she-"

"didn't kill him," you finished. "he was a good man."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in relief, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "he was."

"i wasn't sure the horse was his, though i kept it in case he returned. the forests around here are deadly, but there's a village nearby, so i had hope..." you pursed your lips, thinking of how blasé you had always been about the men that failed to save you, not thinking at the time of the people they knew before they came. "i should have done more."

"you did what you could have," seungcheol reassured, his lips on your shoulder as he curled his arms tighter around you. "thank you for telling me."

you relished in the feeling of his arms around you, sighing as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. "i didn't realize how much i missed human contact."

you felt his breath on your neck when he let out a short chuckle. "i've never had it like this."

"neither have i," you said, adjusting to look him in the eye. he was only a breath away, his lips, his jaw, his neck. he had only arrived that morning, but your attachment to him could never get greater than it was now. you wondered if you glowed like he did in this moment - radiating gold in the streams of light from the afternoon sun. "i like it a lot."

a dimple showed itself on his cheek, and you smiled back at it. he kissed you gently, and your shoulders raised at the goosebumps it gave you. "i do, too," he said, running his lips across your cheek and down your neck.

"seungcheol," you sighed. "we just took a bath."

"and you smell divine," he said, smiling against your skin. you laughed at him, mostly because of his near flat out refusal to bathe with you earlier.

"i've drawn a bath," you had said, wearing only a satin robe as you returned to the main room. "i'd be happy if you joined me."

seungcheol was laid out on your bed, blanket covering as little as it had to, an arm laid over his face as he did his best to recover his soul after you had pulled it straight out of him twice. "go ahead," he replied, fearful of what seeing your form again would do to him. "i'll make sure no one bothers you."

you laughed, crawling onto your thick mattress to bother him a bit more. "my knight in shining armor, making sure none of the inhabitants of this abandoned castle bother me while i bathe."

"anything for my princess," he said, rolling his head towards where you laid, prodding at his chest.

"anything?"

he saw the mischief in your eyes, and god, he hated how easily he fell under your intoxicating spell. but he only hated it for a moment, before you led him into your candle-lit washroom, the flames glinting off the glistening tiles of your tub and a view of the surrounding forest through sheer curtains. all he could do was sigh in resignation as you held his hand, letting the robe fall off your shoulders.

during that bath, your name sounded like a song coming from his lips, and it fell upon your blushed ears in the most delightful way. you had never even imagined what the first time hearing your name in someone else's voice in eight years would be like, but you couldn't stop replaying that moment in your mind.

"there should be apples in a basket right inside the door of the pantry," you said, pointing to a door as you lit the candles in the kitchen. seungcheol went to the door you gestured to and grabbed a few of the red fruit, biting into one. you walked over to the window and drew the curtains, letting the sun in. you usually left them open, but the rain in the evening before made you even sadder than you had already been this week. now, opening them back up, it felt like a fresh beginning.

"i have eggs," you said, tapping your cheek, realizing you truly didn't know how to entertain guests. "lots of fruit and vegetables. there's a whole field of potatoes."

seungcheol smiled as he approached you. "whatever you want, i'm not picky. i am going to give calli some apples, though."

you nodded and smiled when he planted a kiss on your cheek, then took another bite of the apple. you watched him trot up the steps to the hall where his horse waited, and you looked around briefly before deciding to wash rice and stoke a fire.

you didn't know how to cook before you came here. you still didn't, really, just the bits of things you remembered watching the cooks in the kitchen when you and your best friend were hiding from your fathers, but it had been enough for you to learn, alone, with only a young dragon as a mentor. meat scared you still - you tried to slaughter a chicken as a seventeen year old and you were so scared of undercooking it that you had roasted it dry - but you had learned how to work with everything that popped up in the plotted fields behind the castle. with the addition of horses, you had been able to take spare jewelry you found to the village and trade for some things you needed - hay and oats, mostly, to care for them - and some things you missed, like rice and cheese. you grunted lightly as you set the heavy cast iron bowl of rice and water over a stovetop, settling the wood lid on it as seungcheol returned.

"how can i help?"

you stared at him for a moment. "you want to help?"

his eyebrows raised. "yes?"

"sorry," you said suddenly, shaking your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. "this is still weird."

he laughed, leaning against the stone wall. "take your time, princess."

"how are your knife skills?"

he pouted and shrugged. "i manage."

you laughed, walking to the pantry to retrieve some vegetables. "do you like squash? they grew like crazy this year."

you checked the rice periodically as it boiled, and you stir fried the vegetables that seungcheol chopped for you. you found another rice bowl - you had never needed more than one - and filled both with rice before frying two eggs.

"i can't believe you've been alone all this time," he said later, pulling a spoon from his mouth. "how did you learn to do all this?"

you told him about your afternoons spent in the kitchen as a child, being more of a nuisance than anything. he laughed when you told him that you had tipped over a pot of stew into the fire below, extinguishing it and creating a thick paste as the stew mixed with ash. you had gotten banished from the kitchen for a year only a few months before you were taken, but you supposed you had picked up some translatable skills during your other visits.

he asked you about your captor, the mad king that had instilled fear in your kingdom's people with your kidnapping. you told him that king edgar was driven to madness by a cruel curse, and you met his true self only after you had arrived to his kingdom - the kingdom whose people abandoned it in fear of the dragon - where he broke down and clutched you. you reminded him of his own daughter, he had said, a beautiful princess by the name of penelope. he said he never knew what came of her, but you knew she was the one that had been cursed.

"the dragon," seungcheol started, his breath catching. no wonder you shared such a close connection with her.

you nodded. "he thought he was crazy for hearing her voice in his head. she was trying to tell him the whole time."

you were quiet when you told him that the late king's madness is what killed him, only a year after you had arrived.

it was his idea to send calliope back to the kingdom with a letter. he was positive she would make it on her own - she had made the trip several times, despite the king forbidding seungcheol from attempting to save you until now. "scouting missions," he explained when you raised an eyebrow at him, his tone unconvincing. he understood why you wished to stay, and he really could not deny the allure of living in a private castle with you for a little while, but he worried that his delayed return would make everyone assume the worst.

"i could write a letter," he said, to tell them what had happened and that you needed time to wrap some things up here, gather the things that should come back with you. "or you could, my princess, if you're hoping for a more dramatic return."

you were laying in the grass, watching the sun reflect orange against the clouds as it began to set over the horizon, using seungcheol as a pillow. you hummed, rolling to lay on your stomach and plucking a blade of grass to inspect. he watched you, and tucked your hair behind your ear as you thought. "you should write it, i think. they might come to collect us if i do. should we send her off in the morning?"

he nodded at you, his hand still on your cheek. you leaned your head into it, craving the way he held you suddenly.

there were countless days where you had lain similar to where you were now, in the grass clearing surrounded by red rose bushes, the earliest times spent sobbing until your throat was sore and your eyes swollen while you came to terms with being truly alone here. now, though, you laid with your savior and lover, and his presence alone changed the atmosphere. suddenly, these roses that were a source of painful memory for you had an air of romance to them.

"should i tell them?" you wondered aloud. "that i chose to stay all these years?"

seungcheol's thumb glided across your cheek bone. "do you think they would understand?"

your eyebrows crinkled. "you know them better than me, now," you said, ripping the grass in your fingers to pieces. "i know mother would, but i'm not sure about father."

"i think he would," he said quietly. your eyes met his. "heartbreak breeds empathy. i'm sure he would even forgive king edgar if you told him his story."

you considered that for a moment. "maybe i should write the letter, then."

with calliope in the stables, penelope flew the two of you back to the tower for the evening so that you could figure out what all to write, but it was back in that garden the next evening, laying in that same spot, where seungcheol's fingers dug into your waist as you rode him, the sky painted pink and purple behind you. your hips rolled on his, your blouse unbuttoned too low and your pants discarded somewhere they shouldn't be, and you watched his neck stretch against the green grass, a bruise from your biting the previous day showing itself directly over a bulging vein. he filled you in a way that felt new every time, and you sighed, your hands against his bare chest pushing yourself up off him, only to sink down again repeatedly.

his hands tensed on you as he groaned, trying his best to hold out for your second release, but you were making it incredibly difficult for him. you leaned back, palms on his thighs as you lifted yourself off him, and you would never forget the erotic noise that fell from his lips as you seated yourself deeply.

"princess," he groaned, his hands hungrily running down your thighs. "i won't last much longer like this."

the title read more as a pet name, and you couldn't help but clench at the need in his voice, making him choke. "god, me neither."

"please," he gasped out, eyes pleading. "please, can i-"

you nodded desperately, and it took him only seconds to sit up, crossing his legs behind you, cradling you in his arms as he rolled his hips up into you. your jaw dropped in a silent moan, and it took a moment for your vocal chords to catch up, but it wasn't long before you were making all sorts of embarrassing noises for him.

"baby," he panted, his lips pausing their work against your throat. "oh, god, i'm gonna cum."

"yes," you begged. "please. please, seungcheol."

he groaned into your neck, and you whined as you felt him shoot into you, spurring your own orgasm. your throbbing walls milked him dry, and the two of you were panting as you came down, clutching each other in a garden.

you were grateful that he didn't comment on the way you practically waddled the rest of the evening, but you never noticed the proud look on his face whenever he watched you. he did that to you, he thought. and you wanted him to do it to you again and again and again.

each morning, when seungcheol woke with your bare form draped over his side, he felt like the luckiest man on the planet, and you couldn't help but smile when you woke to his quiet and gentle ministrations against your neck, his hands warm against your skin as he pulled you closer to him.

"my darling," he muttered against your throat, adoring the way you felt in his arms, and his honey coated voice made you drunk with desire despite the sleep in your eyes. "when will i ever get enough of you?"

you giggled as you reached for him, making him moan when your hand made contact with his member. "perhaps we'll slow down in a year."

seungcheol thought that sounded okay, but when you wrapped your warm mouth around him, it suddenly sounded too soon.

there was clothing you would miss too much, you told him. the tunics you wore as comfort for years, the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, and god, the trousers. you had never been allowed to wear them before, but the convenience of fewer, less cumbersome layers proved itself again and again, especially now that you had a reason to undress more often.

"i think you look beautiful," he announced matter of factly, seated in the floor only two feet away from you, when you said offhandedly that the dresses probably suited you more. "now and always."

you smiled at him as you folded the clothing into saddlebags. "you're not so bad to look at either," you said, letting him lean over the pile of clothing to kiss you.

the more seungcheol told you about the kingdom, the more you itched to return. you missed the trees and parks surrounding the castle grounds, the cobblestone streets that you would secretly wander down, and you especially missed the way people would smile at you and ask if you were away from the castle alone.

"of course," you would reply, exchanging coin for a snack of bread despite the baker's insistence that you take it for free. "do you think the guards would have let me if they knew?"

the people were your main reason to return. you thought of the citizens that you hadn't seen in so long. you wondered how the children you remembered coming into the world had grown up. you wondered how the shops managed. you asked seungcheol about some, the ones you could remember, and he happily told you the bakery a few blocks away from the back garden gates of the castle was doing well.

you missed your family. with the promise of seeing them soon, your heart ached, even if you had felt spiteful towards them in your youth. you would never agree with everything they did - thus was the nature of an ever evolving world - but you couldn't help but remember the times they had laughed with you. while they had expectations for you, they still cared for you. they still raised you. they still loved you unconditionally.

you missed everyone you saw every day, all the other inhabitants of the castle. your cousin, whose parents died in war when he was only a child, but always had a devil may care attitude anyways. the cooks and help you bothered, but always laughed at your antics. your handmaiden, who had always kept a close eye on you, even if she never told the king about your secret excursions. you thought of your father's right hand man and closest friend, advisor kim. you thought of his son, whom you had been raised with in the castle. he had always been your best friend, your beacon of common sense, and your slightly reluctant partner in crime. you spent much of your long years away daydreaming about his laugh and hugs.

"mingyu," you said, trailing off slightly. you were sitting in the shade of a tree, watching seungcheol throw knives at a target. "is he well?"

"advisor kim?" he adjusted his posture, grunting slightly as he put a telling amount of force behind his throw. "as well as he can be, i suppose. we don't speak much."

"not advisor kim," you said, brows furrowed. "his son. he's around our age."

seungcheol looked to you, his eyes softening. "oh, princess, i'm so sorry." he paused as he kneeled before you, putting a hand to your cheek. "mingyu's father passed six years ago. he's been the king's advisor ever since."

he held you as you sobbed against him, mourning the man you had referred to as your uncle for most of your childhood, and your heart shattered as you thought of all the loss mingyu had endured.

he was smart, and it made sense to you that the king asked him to succeed his father, though you thought it a little cruel. mingyu had always been the most well read person you knew, and was the reason you had decided to make a mission of reading every book in your stone prison. he always had excitedly told you about the latest novel he'd read, or what he had learned in the political journal he'd snuck from his father's office, eyes shining and baring the wolf-like grin you adored. you never understood it back then, but now, having reread most of the books you had access to, you couldn't wait to get your hands on anything he would recommend to you when you could ask him in only a few short days.

you asked that you spend an afternoon with penelope, and seungcheol respected your time with her, despite the boredom that itched at his legs while he sat in your tower alone. he counted your paintings for the umpteenth, wondering how had you done this for so long. he decided he would go check on the horses.

you asked penelope if she truly wished to stay. "we could find someone to help you," you said. "i'm sure father has someone that can reverse the spell."

sweet princess, her warm voice rang in your ears despite her never opening her mouth. i've no family, no subjects, and no sense of humanity.

you chewed on your cheek, knowing your wet eyes gave you away. "you have me."

she chirped, nuzzling her nose against your arm. and for your companionship all these years, i am grateful. but punishing the wicked is my duty, i have accepted my fate and so should you.

"i accept it," you said, wiping at your face with the sleeves of your dress. "but i'll remain unhappy with it."

penelope's sweet giggle was your favorite thing to hear in your mind, for you could almost imagine the woman that it once belonged to. do visit sometime. though i'd prefer if you left the knight at home.

you laughed despite the tears streaming down your face, and your hand ran over her snout. "you would like mingyu more, anyways."

there were three horses to bring back with you, but only two riders. due to this fact alone, seungcheol told you it would likely take a full day to return to the kingdom.

"maybe longer," he thought aloud, his wandering eyes finding yours as you leaned against a post in the stable. "we might have to camp a night."

"leave in the morning, arrive the next?" he nodded at your question. "that's not awful. it's hard to believe that i've been this close to you this whole time."

seungcheol agreed with you, wishing that he had gone against the king's orders and found you sooner, especially when your fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "if only i had known how close i was to bliss, i would have been by your side for years."

you sighed, content, and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek landing on his firm chest as he leaned into you.

the first time the phrase i love you came from him, he was curled over you in your bed. your hands were digging into his hair, his lips were slotted over yours, and you were trying your best to ignore the stinging in your eyes as he pushed into you again, the words hushed against your mouth.

you looked up at him, shellshocked, but he never took your silence as judgement. "i love you," he repeated. "more than i've ever loved another person."

a moan was forced from you with a combination of his words and his movements, and it jump-started your confession. "i love you, too, my knight."

his forehead rest against yours, slick with sweat, as he slowly drove himself into you. your thighs ached, partly from the repeated trips up and down the stairs as you packed, but mostly from the way he gripped the backs of them, pushing them until your knees were nearly at your shoulders. the angle let him too far into you, you thought. if anyone were to die from feeling too much pleasure, it would be you, in that moment, as seungcheol bit at your lower lip and muttered sweet nothings into your mouth.

after nearly a decade of ruling a lonely kingdom, you were so close to returning to the castle in which you were raised. you had set the chickens free from their coop, your horses were prepared for the journey, and your stomach ached at the thought. your nerves got the better of you as you emptied your stomach of its contents behind a tree.

"it's okay, my love," seungcheol said, his hands pulling your hair behind your shoulders and rubbing your back. "i'm right here."

"damn shame," you choked out, catching your breath. "i really enjoyed that breakfast."

he did his best to not laugh despite your joking tone. he stayed by your side as your head swam, and asked if the ride back should be delayed.

"no," you shook your head, accepting the water he handed you. "if we stay a day, i'll make excuses to stay forever. i'll be okay."

he recognized the defeat in your words. despite the weakened state you had woken up in, you were right. this place felt like paradise, and you never wanted it to end, but you had a kingdom waiting for you.

penelope watched over you both, laid out in the grass as you made your final preparations, and you wrapped your arms around her neck as you held back tears.

"i'll visit. i promise."

seungcheol wrung his fingers behind his back as he watched you speak with her quietly. he could never quite shake his fear of the majestic being (he had squeezed his eyes shut and clung to you whenever she had flown you two to the tower), and he had a feeling that she disliked him due to their first impression, but he knew you loved her like a sister. then, the dragon's deep firey eyes moved to meet his, her voice creeping into his mind for the first time, causing a chill to run up his spine.

protect her in my stead.

he put a hand over his heart and nodded, and when the dragon broke eye contact, he felt as though he finally understood her.

seungcheol kept a close eye on you as you rode river, a horse he couldn't remember the original name of, but that you named after the location at which you found him. he vaguely remembered the man that rode him before, but he was one that seungcheol had never liked much. every time you swayed slightly, he insisted on taking a break so you could lay down, but you waved him off, not wanting to delay your return any more than you already had.

"oh, dear seungcheol," you said, a smile on your lips. "you will be such an empathetic king one day. good thing i'll be there to make the hard decisions."

he couldn't argue - he never could. you were wise beyond your years and more observant than the people he debated against at home, most of which with whom his arguments ended in him threatening to fight. but with you, he always understood the deep thought and logic behind your words. you had a way of speaking that calmed conflict instead of fostering it, and for that reason alone, he thought you were destined to rule, and he would happy to be by your side as you did.

#YAAAAAA #i tried to make this make sense as an ending even though ive literally already written half of part 3 #anyways idk what to call this series if you have an idea lmk!#part three introduces So Many People yall just you WAIT!!!!#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol smut #scoups scenario #scoups imagines #scoups smut #cheollie #i wrote dis

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Cute Neighbor (Taeyong x you)

Okay sorry another Taeyong imagine! Coz i can't handle his charms 😭😭😭

Tell me if you're sick of taeyong imagines and i can write you someone else's...

WARNING : FLUFF, flirting, makes you wish you really have a neighbor as cute as him!

ENJOY!

The loud voice of heavy furniture moved around through the hallway irks you on a beautiful Saturday morning.

You close your eyes and ears with annoyance as you internally curse your new neighbor for moving in on a weekend. Didn't they understand that you need a good week end sleep to survive another endless lecture of chemistry?!

You never realize the walls of your apartment is that thin that you could basically listen everything happening around you.

After trying your best to bury your ears into the pillows, you can return back to your sleep. Thankfully, you're the type who can continue a sleep whenever you feel like it.

You make a mental note to maybe ironically tell them how your morning is beautiful with their loud moving in session.

However, turns out that never happens! Guess what? The new noisy neighbor moving into the room across yours, is hella cute!

You did not see him that noon, when you go out of your room to buy lunch. You shrug it off, thinking maybe tomorrow morning you'll get to see him and greet him. You ponder on what to prepare, but decided you'll not give them anything since they ruined your morning.

That night, you once again have to control yourself from not banging on the door to tell whoever is playing guitar that loud in the middle of the night. It's almost ten at night and the loud laughs and guitar could still be heard from your room.

It's not like you’re a party pooper, just that you kind of want them to at least tune it down a bit. But the good thing is they sound good! Like their choice of music and their singing are not disruptive.

The last song before you really fall asleep happens to be a fingerstyle so perfectly arranged. You shot your eyes open when you realize the pattern that neighbor is playing. Quickly you grab your guitar, pencil, and a paper. You press your ears to the walls trying your best to catch the now slow melody.

“Louder please! I love the melody and i'm dying to keep it in my mind…” you hopelessly whisper to the wall. Hoping to hear more of the masterpiece.

You failed though, you laughed at yourself for thinking you could catch the whole song, but in the last part the melody turned sad and blue … then it slowed down and you cannot hear anything else.

You sit down, mind now super wide awake! With gritted teeth you reach for your guitar, read the scribbles you made earlier and you quickly try to play the song.

It’s perfect and you definitely will look for it online! Why haven't you heard of this song at all?!

You try to resume the song, trying to find notes that can follow the piece and fit perfectly with the other ear pleasing voice.

Your brain works hard and drive you to sleep on the bed after leaving the guitar and notes on the living room table.

You never sleep that peaceful and well by yourself. You believe it was thanks to the music your neighbor played.

>>>>>>Sunday morning<<<<<<<

A constant bell on your door halts you from stirring your coffee.

“Coming" you yell and take a glance to the intercom.

There stood a breath-taking man on his messy hair and oversize sweater.

You check yourself on the mirror, thanking yourself for taking a bath already.

With a fluttering heart you open the door.

“Morning!” you greet him first. The boy looks a bit shy and sweet. Oh you love the way his eyes look into yours bashfully.

Though his body is bigger than yours, you see him as a precious small squishy.

“You're my new neighbor I believe?” you question.

He nods “As a matter of fact, yes! My name is Taeyong… I am sorry if I just come to see you today. Yesterday I was a bit busy configuring my room and putting on the things.

“No problem, name is (y/n) nice to meet you!” you shake his hand and smile liking how your hand fits in his.

“Have you done everything or do you need help?” your friendly manner naturally jumps out.

He smiles and relaxes a bit when he notes you're not the annoying neighbor.

“Oh thank you, but the boys helped me up yesterday and i'm done with cleaning too.” He scratches his neck.

You nod and laugh at yourself, how can you forget the loud noises last night.. of course they were from the squad.

“Well then, anything I can help?” you ask for you feel like he's hesitating to tell you something.

Bulls eye, he sighs in relief.

“I know I might sound so rude, but do you have eggs where I can borrow? I haven't gone grocery shopping and like I want a proper breakfast. The only thing I have is sodas!” he gestures a “mind blown" hand over his head and chuckles.

You laugh at his witty remark and you step aside from the door.

“Please sit down as I take out the eggs.”

He politely makes his way to your tidy apartment and takes a good scan over the comfortable living space.

“Your house … it's pretty…” he gasps “like you.” He whispers so low… you didn't catch them.

“How many eggs do you need?” You stand in front of your refrigerator wondering if you should just dump all of your week supply to this cute boy or not.

“How much do you need for a pancake?” he pops into your pantry now with his tidy hair, guess he monitors himself from the mirror.

“That'll be two… do you have the other ingredients?” you take out two large eggs and place them on a small bowl.

“Well yeah I have the milk and flour… guess i'll find my way to my kitchen.” He receives the bowl from you.

You shoot him a challenging look, “You never make pancakes don't you?”

He shrugs his shoulder, “There's always a first time for everything right? Want to help me explain briefly?”

Smooth jesus he's flirting with you like it was elementary.

The next ten minutes, you're explaining him what he should do and believe it or not this cute boy is just staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Umm Tae? You sure you get everything? You did not take notes!” you roll your eyes when the young man just taps his head.

“Let me try maybe i'll burn my kitchen or you could come and join me .. i'm sure seeing you do it will be a nicer way for me to learn.” He playfully winks and you feel your cheeks heating.

Ten minutes later you're already in his tidy apartment. It's majority designed with abstract theme and you see the boldness striking on every art piece he made.

You help him making his first pancakes and after the thirty minutes preparation, you're finally sitting on his new dining chairs.

Nice set of plates and cutleries are arranged over the smooth table. Two glasses of fresh apple juice greet you, he’s definitely lying when he said he only has sodas!

That refrigerator has some salad dressings, milks, and okay water…

You two learn and talk about each other over a good breakfast. There's only butter here and you brought your maple syrup along luckily. Underneath your table, his best friend dog companion, Ruby is eating her breakfast gently while listening to the two of you converse.

You soon learn he is also a senior like you, but you're from the school across his. Yes the two of you came to different universities that happen to be great rivals! Funny how he could stay quiet despite the numerous souvenirs of your school planted on your room. Come to think of it you also just realized this room is also full of his school's merch!

Imagine if your friend or his friend sees the two of you casually eating breakfast and slipping flirts here and there!

After the scrumptious breakfast and warm first meeting, you thank him for the offer and go back to your home. Across his door, lies your door and behind that door.. the cute neighbor has just stole your heart and won your number.

The end! 💖

#superm #lee taeyong #taeyong nct #lee taeyong imagine #taeyong imagine fluff #nct taeyong imagine #imagine taeyong #taeyong imagine #taeyong imagines #taeyong oneshot #taeyong scenario #taeyong scenarios #nct taeyong drabble #taeyong drabbles #imagine superm #superm imagine #nct imagine masterlist #imagine nct #nct imagine

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

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(Fluffember Prompt : Picnic)

Day 5 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

“Are you going to eat all that yourself?” Gordon asked as he sidled up to me in the kitchen. I was making noodles, nice, simple, stir fried noodles, a little bit of chicken, some veg and a sweet and sour dippy sauce. Lush.

“No,” I answered. There was clearly far too much for me to eat alone, I had a Space Hubby around here somewhere… or possibly up there somewhere, it was hard to tell.

“Oh, cool, can I ha-”

“No.”

Cue the pout, the epic Gordo pout. I am immune. I never thought I would ever be able to say that, but I’ve grown stronger, more able to resist the bottom lip of doom. Just about. I remember that I tried that once with John, and his exact words had been “Don’t even try, that won’t work on me, I’m immune, I have two younger brothers.” I’d thought his confident speech had been all bravado and false hope, but he might have actually been telling the truth, my pouts rarely worked on him and the ones that the terrible two dished out never did. Was my man secretly a god? I mean, I thought so, I’d seen him with his top off, but maybe, just maybe he had hidden talents. Hmmm…

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

“What look?” I asked, needing to clarify his meaning so I could decide if I needed to be insulted or not.

“The one you get when you’re staring at John or that guy from that old TV show, the Scottish one with the time travel.”

“Jamie Fraser is the most perfect of men, he is the ultimate in husband goals, he is…” I trailed off and shrugged. “I obviously have a thing for hot redheaded men.”

“Urghh,” he made a face similar to the one that Scott made when Alan shoved his shoe under his nose last week. Like he wanted to throw up but wasn’t sure which way to aim.

“Why are you in here anyway?” I asked. “Was it just so you could bug me and judge me? I’m busy here, I’m trying to cook.”

He snorted, a scoffing little noise that was quite rude.

“What now?” I sighed.

“Cooking isn’t that hard.”

“Oh really? Then why is it that barely anyone in this house seems to be capable of it? It’s not just a case of grabbing some random ingredients, tossing them in a pot with a prayer for luck and you’re good to go.”

He declined to comment and wandered off without another word. I should have been terrified, but my bean sprouts were trying to burn so I pushed it aside to worry about later. That was my first dumb move.

My second dumb move was to actually leave the comfort of the couch and John’s recently vacated warm spot.

“What the everloving crap was that?” I yelped when a loud crash sounded from the kitchen below us. I poked John gently when he failed to react. “Did you hear that?”

“Since I’m not deaf, it would have been impossible for me not to,” he casually swiped something away on his tablet and started reading again.

“What did they do?”

“And since I do not, in fact, have the ability to see through walls, I don’t know.”

“Go and find out.”

You’d have thought I was asking him to go shopping with me again.

“I don’t think so, you go.”

“They’re your brothers.”

“You’re the one that cares.”

“They’re your brothers,” I repeated.

He gave me that look of his that promises retribution as I rolled sideways to let him get up, rolling back to steal his spot the second he moved. I dragged his blanket over my knees (I’m feeling chilly today) and stole his tablet to watch videos on as he walked away.

I got so engrossed, having fallen down a hole of cute hamster videos, that I didn’t realise for a full twenty minutes that John had failed to return. I had sudden and very detailed visions of my poor boy hogtied and left baking in the sun or some such nonsense. I unwrapped myself from my blanket burrito and started my very slow and reluctant walk towards the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” I yelled the second I rounded the corner, entered the room and saw the scene before me. They all froze guiltily, including John, who was at that very second groping blindly around in the pantry. And when I say blindly, I mean it literally, he was wearing a blindfold that by the looks of it, had been made by them tying my shawl around his head. I don’t know what they were thinking, if anything I’m a little surprised that I’ve never seen smoke coming out of their ears when their two remaining brain cells rub together to give them an idea.

The other idiots were all standing around in various places, standing guard over small piles of produce like dragons over their gold.

“What the hell is going on in here? And how the hell have you roped him in?”

“Hang on, he’s got twenty more seconds yet,” Alan told me, clicking a button on his comm again. “Go!”

John resumed his digging around, knocking over two jars of mustard and an open packet of pasta which poured out like a carby waterfall. He ignored it.

“Gordon?” I turned to the likely culprit.

“Why are you picking on me?” he asked innocently. "Why do you always assume it's my doing?"

“Are you honestly trying to tell me that you had nothing to do with this? Whatever this actually is.”

“We’re having a picnic,” Virgil told me.

“It’s blindfolded kitchen shopping,” Kayo elaborated. I switched my glare to her, she was involved, I could tell, mostly because she still had one of her workout head wraps around her neck and had her own pile of goodies on the counter in front of her.

“It was Scott’s idea,” Alan piped up, throwing his brother under the bus. “Time!”

John dropped the item in his left hand, retaining the one in his right and backed out of the pantry. He pulled off his blindfold and gathered up his treasures, a bag of donuts, a can of whipped cream and in his hand a tin of spaghetti hoops.

“What was Scott’s idea?”

“Well, when you told me that cooking was easy-”

“I said no such thing. I told you that it wasn’t as simple as just bunging some ingredients in a…” I trailed off, I could already see where this was going and I wasn’t impressed.

“Exactly, throw some ingredients together and make food. Easy.”

“Not easy,” I insisted.

“So I happened to mention it to Scott, who said that he agreed, you can make anything if you’re creative enough-”

“You should not be learning from the Grandma Tracy school of cookery!”

“The rules are simple,” Gordon continued as if I had never spoken. “One minute to select three ingredients, all of which must be used in the finished dish. You’re allowed to add two more ingredients to aid the construction but that’s all. You can do whatever you want with what you have, be as elaborate or as simple as you like. You must taste your own dish, as does everyone else when everything will be shared as a picnic.”

He looked so damned proud of himself, the little snot.

“How did the rest of you numpties get involved in this?” I sighed, knowing I was beaten. No one answered me. Giving up, my blanket nest calling me, I retreated towards the door.

“Do you want to join in?” Virgil asked innocently.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Do you not have as much faith in your cooking skills as we do in ours?” Alan teased.

I paused in the doorway.

“Dare you, unless you’re scared,” Kayo threw in, just to stir the pot.

“Dammit!” She knew exactly what she was doing, I can NEVER resist a dare.

“Gimme a blindfold.”

Alan tossed me his, which I think was a football sock, but I didn’t want to look at it too closely, I just prayed it was clean. I tied it around my head and Scott checked to make sure I couldn’t see anything. I don’t know what he did, because obviously I couldn’t see anything, but it made a few of them snigger, so I’m obviously suspicious.

Alan started the timer and I groped my way around the table to the fridge.

“Forty-five seconds!”

Crap! This was actually pretty stressful. How did you pick something without seeing it? I decided to stick to one place and hope for the best, open the fridge, feel around, grab some bits, done! Right?

Easier said than done when you have recently gone shopping, the fridge is packed to bursting and you can’t tell what anything is.

“John! Grab this!” I demanded as Alan happily started counting down from twenty as my time ticked away. I grabbed something small and weird, no idea what it was and tossed it over my shoulder in what I guessed was his general direction, hoping he caught it.

I fumbled around and selected something round and cold, that I hoped might be a tomato and held that out too, then in desperation I yanked out a random box just as Alan called time.

I pulled off my blindfold and looked at the things John was holding for me, which turned out to be an apple and a tiny radish. I was holding a carton of eggs. Could have been worse.

“Let the food prep begin,” Gordon declared. “No helping each other.”

Sighing I got to work. Obviously, eggs would be my main ingredient, I cracked four into a bowl and whisked them together.

“Do we have to use all of the ingredients we picked out?” I asked.

“Yes, every one.”

“No, I meant do I have to use the entire apple or the entire box of eggs,” I clarified.

“Oh, no you don’t, it just has to have them in there.”

“Cool, OK, and we get two extra ingredients of our choice?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” That was me sorted then. I grabbed a grater and shredded a quarter of the apple and less than an eighth of the tiny radish. I wasn’t a big fan of those spicy little buggers, I don’t like pepper and they definitely have a peppery quality to them, but I was hoping the sweetness of the apple would balance it out.

I opened the fridge again and selected some cheese which I shredded and some ham, chopping it up quite fine. That would do.

I set a pan on the stove top and waited for it to heat up.

“Do I get to use any kind of oil or something to stop my food sticking?” I asked.

The ringleaders, Gordon and Scott, looked at each other, obviously indulging in some kind of non-verbal conversation I wasn't privy to before making their decision.

“Yes you can,” Scott graciously allowed.

“Thank you.” I dumped in a generous knob of butter. Quickly I sloshed the eggs into the pan, and fluffed them up a little with a fork before I turned the heat down a bit and let them sizzle.

I glanced over at Alan who was constructing something with jam and a pile of cookies. Scott was wrestling with a can of tuna and Gordon was opening a carton of custard.

I sprinkled a little of the apple on top of the egg, then a tiny dusting of radish, followed by a large handful of cheese and ham. I eased the sides of my omelette away from the pan, making sure it wasn’t sticking and checking it was cooking.

John, I noticed, was doing something weird with a lettuce leaf that he had procured from somewhere, it was not one of his blindfolded items so he must have gotten it after. He had the leaf stretched over a small bowl and was spooning a tiny amount of the tinned spaghetti into it. Sometimes I wonder why I agreed to marry into this family. I must have been drunk.

I carefully folded my omelette in half and turned the heat off, letting it rest and continue cooking a little.

“I’m done,” I declared, turning around to survey the chaos that had become our kitchen. Oh the humanity. I would NOT be cleaning this up.

Alan, it transpired, had blindly chosen cookies, cheese slices and curry sauce left over from some McDonald’s nuggets I got a few weeks ago, bringing them and other goodies with me in the space elevator. His extras appeared to involve pilfering a few of the McVities digestive biscuits that I’d brought from home the day I arrived that Kayo had chosen in her blind scrabble around the snack cupboard.

He’d proceeded to make a weird stacked thing he was calling a cookie burger which consisted of a cookie base, a layer of jam on top of that, the digestive and lastly a slice of cheese with a drizzle of curry sauce on top.

Gordon was constructing something very elaborate, involving a bowl and lots of layers. His random items appeared to be the custard, half a vanilla sponge cake and a tub of left over chili. My mind was boggling.

Scott was hacking at a rather stale looking half loaf of bread that John said he found in the rarely used bread bin, I don't know how he'd managed to open the bread bin without seeing it, but apparently he had. He'd also blindly chosen a can of Tuna and a packet of fruit gummies.

Virgil, the adorable chonk, had managed to choose a package of cocktail weenies, a tin of peaches and a few sticks of celery. He had stared at his bounty for a good few minutes, before giving up and wandering over to the pantry. He'd stared into that too, like he was looking into a black hole or contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

Eventually he'd chosen a pie crust from the baking shelf and had begun to assemble his creation. He tipped the peaches into the pie dish, chopped up the celery and cocktail sausages and dropped them in on top. He'd looked around, rather desperately I thought, and reached over to steal John's can of whipped cream, squirting a generous amount on top of his frankenpie and called it good.

Kayo appeared to have more sense than the others, she had been the one to find my stash of digestive biscuits and, after Alan had liberated a few, proceeded to crush them into crumbs which she lined the inside of a bowl with.

"What are you making?" I asked, because it didn't look too awful.

She continued to construct her…whatever it was…adding some cake pilfered from Gordon, some grated carrot mixed into cream cheese that was one of her chosen extras and topping it all with strawberries. It kinda…vaguely…could be a cheesecake, if you tipped your head to the side and squinted.

I turned to John, my man, the one that I was supposed to trust with all my heart and soul…he was…I don't know how to describe it. He'd taken the donut and hollowed out a little bit more from the middle hole, then he'd gathered up the sides of his lettuce leaf/ spaghetti hoops thing and had made it into a little parcel, twisting the end closed. He then popped that inside the hollowed out donut. I have no idea why. He'd finished by decorating the top with whipped cream and sprinkles. What was it with them all thinking that whipped cream was the answer to all their problems? Because three of them had done it so far.

Gordon had sprinkled in a handful of peas, actual peas, on top of his custard layer, then added cream on top. I honestly don't know.

Scott had moved on from his bread and taken some of John's lettuce, insisting it was his first, and put a leaf on the stale bread and topped that with Tuna and sweetcorn, which actually had the potential to taste OK. Time would tell. He'd used the fruit gummies to decorate the plate with, I'm not sure if that counted but since he and Gordon seemed to be in charge I assumed it was allowed.

I slid my omelette onto a plate and vaguely wondered if I should grab a few sick bags before the picnic portion of this weird event started.

They all looked incredibly proud of themselves, why I had no idea, no one should be proud of the mess they had made, this was not food, this was barely a step up from mud pies in the yard.

They all took their food offerings and trooped outside, setting up camp on one of the picnic benches near the edge of the beach and settled in.

One by one they presented their masterpieces. Here are the reactions.

SCOTT’S

“This bread’s hard, very hard,” Alan said.

“It’s very fishy,” Gordon said, although we don’t know if it was a bad thing or not.

“Not bad, I could eat it if I had to,” Virgil allowed.

“I don’t like the sweetcorn on it, it keeps rolling away,” John frowned. He was always a bit funny with tinned sweetcorn anyway, he prefers it on the cob.

“That isn’t just hard bread, that is rock bread,” Kayo complained.

“It’s edible, with fresh ingredients I’d eat it again,” I said, trying to be nice. Honestly it wasn’t that bad, I’d definitely eaten worse over the years.

“It’s almost exactly like the subs we made in college,” Scott said, popping the rest in his mouth and chewing happily. He’s weird, that one, he pretends he’s not, he offers the illusion of being the capable, responsible older brother, but it’s all an act.

ALAN’S

“Erm…” Scott hedged, spending at least a minute turning the thing in his hand looking for a way to attack it.

“I don’t know what to do with this, Al…” Virgil was even less sure.

“Give it here!” I had less issues and snatched it away from Scott. I ripped off a bit of the curry sauce topped cheese slice, licked the sauce off the cheese, popped the cheese in my mouth then took a bite of the sweet stuff. It was hard to get my teeth through all the layers of biscuit, but I managed it. It was actually OK, separating it was the way to go. “That’s actually quite nice.”

John copied me exactly, because I’m the sensible one although he’d never admit to that. “You’re right, it’s not bad.”

“Wimps,” Gordon bit straight through it, cheese, curry and all. Then he gagged.

Kayo took the cheese off her’s, ate the sweet stuff first then finished with the cheese, an unconventional method but it wasn’t like any of this was normal. She made a noise that could have been approval but could just as easily been a whimper of surrender.

Virgil took the whole thing apart and ate everything separately, one piece at a time, declaring it to be, “Not bad.”

Scott glanced at me with that look in his eye that said he was about to do something stupid… He reached for the curry sauce pot…

“Scott, no!” I warned him.

He ignored me to tip the rest of the curry sauce on top of the cheese and threw it in his mouth. Immediately he let out a noise that sounded like a mixture between a gag and a burp. He chewed frantically then swallowed. We waited to see what would happen. “Not deadly,” was his verdict.

VIRGIL’S

“I’m sorry, no, I’m not eating that,” I told them, flat out refusing. “I’m semi allergic to peaches, they give me migraine headaches and I’m not risking it. I’m out.”

“I’m excused because she can’t eat peaches and I won’t risk cross contamination,” John said, leaping on my statement as a way to get out of it.

“That’s a flimsy excuse!” Scott accused, he knew it, John knew it, we all knew it. John didn’t care.

“You’re just mad that you can’t use it,” John said, squeezing my leg under the table in thanks for my weird kinda-allergy. I patted his hand in solidarity.

“No one has to eat it, I did my best,” Virgil winced, knowing that his was likely to be the most disastrous yet.

“I’m in!” Gordon declared, picking out a cocktail weenie and dunking it in the cream before popping it in his mouth. He chewed frantically as he scooped up a spoonful of pie crust, peaches and a slice of celery and shoveled that in after the weenie. He kept chewing, his face registering at least six different emotions, none of them pleasant before he finally swallowed. “It could have been worse.”

Kayo copied Gordon and picked out a weenie which she ate first, on its own. That’s where she got smart, washing it down with a mouthful of water before continuing. She spooned up some pie, peach, celery and cream concoction and tasted it. “Not bad like this, the celery is a slightly weird addition, but it can be ignored.”

“I feel sick,” Alan said, having shoved a large mouthful in.

Scott, the brave boy that he is, shrugged and cut a whole slice, lifting it carefully to his mouth.

“He’s a madman…” Alan whispered in awe.

“A brave man…” Gordon added.

“A stupid man…” I sighed.

Scott bit into it, chewing slowly, rolling it around his mouth. “It’s fine.”

I stared at him in utter shock.

Virgil nibbled on a corner, made a face and pushed it away. “No.”

GORDON’S

“What the heck is this?” he of the iron stomach and nuclear powered taste buds asked.

“It’s that thing they did in that show,” Gordon answered, yet Scott still looked bemused, as did we all, blank faces all round.

“Which show, babe?” I felt the need to ask.

“The one with the friends in the coffee shop.”

“You mean ‘Friends’?”

“If that’s what it’s called,” he shrugged. “It’s a meat trifle.”

Cue horrified gasps all around.

“With a few modifications, obviously, since I had to use chili,” he hurried to explain, although it was anything but reassuring.

John pushed his fork into the center of the dish, looking more and more scared the deeper it sank.

“Don’t eat it and just say you did,” I side whispered to him, worried about his stomach since he usually lived on simple and non perishable food in Five.

“I heard that!” Gordon accused as he spoons up a big bite, determined to prove it was edible, and chowed down. “Huh…” he kept chewing, “not bad…”

“Not bad?” Scott goggled. “Are you serious?”

“The chili is good, the custard is good, the cream is nice, the peas are a bit weird but overall it's OK.”

Virgil was the next brave soul to scoop up a tiny forkful and I did the same getting the smallest amount I could onto my spoon, mostly trying to get just custard and cream, although I think I did spot a lurker pea in there.

Kayo and Alan both scooped up a spoonful and shoved it in their mouths, obviously figuring that getting it over with was the best way to tackle it. Kayo spat hers out instantly, Alan managed to chew and swallow his. Virgil got his down but there was a fair bit of gagging.

“It tastes like a foot,” Alan declared.

John took a small bite and reacted almost like a cat with a hairball, his body shuddering, neck stretching as he silently gagged. I handed him a tissue and he gratefully spat it out, sagging against me as if he was about to die.

I looked at Scott, who nodded in return and dug out his own small amount. “On three?”

Scott nodded and began the count. “One...two...three!” We both stuffed our spoons into our mouths. Scott made a face but managed to get it down, my plan had worked and, while the pea was indeed lurking and rather weird, it wasn't that bad a bite and I swallowed without issue, pleased to have survived.

MINE

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Scott said assessingly.

“How dare!” I gasped. “Cheek of it, it looks tasty.”

Virgil cut himself a small portion, being cautious, since everything else has been questionable at best, downright disgusting at worse.

Gordon cut himself an actual slice, a godsdamned slice of my omelette and lifted it up like he would a piece of pizza then wondered why we were all staring at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” he asked, genuinely confused. John just shook his head in utter despair at his dingus brothers and cut a more sensible sized bite.

“I’m sure it will be edible,” he says diplomatically, it’s never good to insult the wife’s cooking even when it is so obviously crap.

Alan, disaster child that he is, cut a bit with the side of his spoon like a damned savage and spooned it up.

Kayo helped herself to a small fork full and got ready.

I reached over and broke a piece off of Gordon’s mega slice.

“OK, good luck my friends,” I offered as I popped the eggy weirdness in my mouth… it was interesting. Nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be, the cheese and ham had mostly drowned out the spicy kick of the radish and the apple had added a weird sweetness to it, but at least it was edible if not to my tastes. I managed to chew it and swallow without choking.

“That’s oddly nice,” John said, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.

“Well, you are the person that likes baked apple pieces on your pizza,” I shuddered in revulsion at the memory of his birthday meal.

“What a man chooses to put on his pizza is his own business,” he told me.

“Not when it’s that weird.”

“It’s no weirder than pineapple on pizza.”

“He’s right,” Scott interrupted, “this is strangely OK.” He took another bite to make sure.

“I don’t like it, it’s too sweet,” Alan said, making a face. “ I like sweet, but not mixed with savoury like this.”

“I agree,” Virgil said, setting his aside, “it’s too sweet, but you did your best.”

Gordon didn’t say anything, but he was steadily munching through his piece, I watched him, oddly fascinated.

“It’s edible, that’s all I can say about it,” Kayo told me, which for her was a compliment.

“Well? Verdict?” I asked Gordon when he eventually finished.

“I don’t know. I don’t like it or dislike it, it just is.”

“You’re being philosophical over a weird omelette?” Scott laughed.

“Had to happen some time.”

“How? How did it have to happen?” John asked, utterly bemused, looking like his brain was going into a meltdown. “Who says to themselves ‘one day I will have to say something deep and meaningful about a randomly concocted omelette’? How do you even assume that?”

“I never say never,” Gordon shrugged, not caring to explain any further. Personally I don’t think he knew what he meant either but was just brazening it out by that point.

JOHN’S

I picked up his donut creation a little gingerly, because I saw what he’d done to it and I was wary. He obviously saw my hesitation because he lent closer to help.

“Just be careful with it and follow my instructions,” he whispered in my ear under the guise of being romantic.

One eyebrow rose in response...I mean, what do you say to that?

He continued, still whispering. “Bite down gently and try to avoid the sack,” he dropped a kiss on my neck before sitting back in his seat. Smooth, boy, very smooth. My other eyebrow lifted to join its sibling.

“I’m just trying to help,” he assured me.

“You’ve said that before.”

“And you listened then and look how well it turned out,” he said as if that was all the proof I needed.

I heard a snigger from Gordon who was obviously eavesdropping.

“I was referring to the fact that you often use the excuse of just trying to help,” I sniffed.

“Oh...well…” he tried to look innocent but failed, flashing me one of those devastating grins that just melted me on the spot. “Just taste my damn donut.”

I debated the wiseness of listening to him but decided that, as trust is supposed to be the cornerstone of any good relationship, I should probably pay attention.

“OK, here we go,” I bit down carefully, right at the edge, trying to measure the distance between where my teeth were and the no go zone. I think I brushed the edge of the lettuce leaf but managed to stick to just the donut which, though ever so slightly stale, was still good.

“That’s nice,” I allowed, trying to keep my cover as I passed the donut over to John who took a bite in exactly the same way and therefore stayed safe.

He passed it on to Kayo, who had been watching us intently, studying our moves with her usual mix of suspicion and calculated plotting.

“You’ve got some cream on your lip,” I was told and sat still while he wiped it away with his thumb.

“What do you think, Kay?” Scott asked.

Kayo, having executed a perfect bite from the other side of the donut nodded before passing judgement. “Edible.” She was now fully on board with our trickery and would never rat us out as she passed it innocently on to Alan.

Alan, trusting baby that he is, bit blindly into the donut, hitting the lettuce sack which exploded, squirting spaghetti hoop juice into his mouth.

“GAAAH what the…” he yelped, gasping in shock, dropping the demon donut with its hidden core of evil.

Scott picked up the donut, the spaghetti sauce now leaking out freely and soaking into the dough. Uncaring he takes a bite. “Not gonna lie,” he mumbles around his mouthful, “it's not great.”

Virgil relieved him of the donut and studied it from all sides. The artist in him wants everything to look appetizing and pleasant the whole time, this did not. “This looks hideous.” He nibbled a corner. “Disgusting,” he declared, offering it to Gordon.

Gordon reluctantly accepted it and bit down carefully. He chewed, swallowed and shook his head. “Nope, gross.”

KAYO'S

Kayo pushed her bowl over quite proudly. “Dig in.”

It didn’t look that bad, and since I’d seen a lot of what she used I knew the ingredients wouldn’t be that bad when mixed. Hopefully it wouldn't be the obnoxious assault to the tastebuds that some of them had been.

I slammed my spoon confidently into it and scooped out a mouthful, popping it in my mouth before I could back out.

“Humm…” I chewed thoughtfully, what did I actually think of it? I couldn’t decide so I just spoke my thoughts as I so often do. “It's quite nice. I mean, biscuit, cake and cream cheese is nice, I don't really like the carrot mixed in but it doesn't ruin it to the point of being disgusting. I like the strawberries, so I guess it’s a win.”

John followed my lead, digging his spoon in. “That's pretty good.”

“I really like that,” Scott dipped his spoon in for some more. “The carrot is different enough to not bore me but the rest is normal enough to make it nice.”

“It's too sweet for me,” Virgil said, putting his spoon down after his first taste.

“I'm not liking the carrot but the rest is good, I could eat it,” Alan said, his usual aversion to vegetables or anything healthy rearing its ugly head.

“It's all good. I don't mind the carrot either,” Gordon said, agreeing with Scott.

Kayo, obviously emboldened after using us as test subjects, risked tasting it herself. “Not bad.”

Well, we've tasted everything,” I said, glugging down some of John’s water in an attempt to cleanse my tongue a little. “Was there an actual point to all of this?”

Scott and Gordon both shrugged, not that I was that surprised, there is never much point to anything that any of these idiots do when bored.

“Not really,” Scott admitted.

“I wanted to prove you wrong,” Gordon told me, “and I think we did.”

“How? How did you? Some of this was disgusting, it clearly didn't work. How can you honestly think that you proved my wrong in any way, shape or form?” Seriously, the mind boggles with these guys.

“It showed that it can be done,” Gordon insisted.

“It shows nothing!”

“Just let it go, love,” John soothed, obviously trying to save what little sanity I have left.

“You joined in!”

“So did you,” he countered.

“I give up!” I yelled, throwing my hands up in frustration. “It’s like talking to monkeys, you’re all mental.” I climbed awkwardly off the bench and headed back to the house.

“So, did I win?” I heard Kayo ask as I rounded the corner, leaving them alone.

Stupid competitive Tracys! I should never have left the sofa, hell, I should never have left England. I knew this would be a mistake. I’d be insane by the end of it.

I stopped off in the kitchen to make myself a coffee, hoping it would take some of the taste away. I grabbed a few abandoned cookies and a non Johned donut and retreated to the sanctuary that was the couch and my blankets, which would be lonely without me.

I settled down, retrieved my book (I’m re-reading Outlander, which might be contributing to my Jamie Fraser love right now, all the best husbands have J names, fact) and got comfy, might as well make the most of what little peace I’d get before the chaos found me.

“Move over.”

I stayed where I was, maybe if I ignored him he would go away.

John, being John and refusing to be either insulted or put off by my rejection, simply lifted my legs and settled in their spot, dropping them back down over his lap.

I looked over my book at him as he reached for my coffee cup and gulped down half its contents. He offered me the mug and I put my book down to take it.

“Thanks,” I said because what else could I do? I sipped the coffee then put the mug down on the little table next to the couch and picked up my book again.

John took that as a sign that he was welcome to stay and started making himself at home, stealing some of the blanket and shifting to stretch out beside me. I moved over to make room, letting him settle his head on my chest as he found his tablet among the cushions.

OK, maybe there were a few good reasons to be here instead of alone at home, but I’ll never admit it outloud.

#Isolation Island #Thunderbirds in isolation #fluffember #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 4 years ago

Text

True Heaven

Summary: Dean wakes up from a dream about heaven. As he goes about his day, he realizes what his true heaven looks like.

AO3

The sun was beating down on him but he felt no heat, just warmth. Everything was warm here.

The trees were tall and green. The sky was the bluest he had ever seen. The water trickling down the stream was as clear as glass.

It was heaven… or so they say.

Dean smiled to himself as he gazed at the view from the bridge in his memories. There was only one thing that could make this heaven truly his.

“Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, as he turned his head to see his smiling brother.

Sam stepped forward, arms open and Dean didn’t even hesitate to pull him into a hug.

Together, the two brothers looked out into their heaven, side-by-side, as they always have been.

It should feel right. His head was telling him it should be right. That this was his true heaven.

The sky.

The trees.

The bridge beneath his feet.

His baby brother by his side.

Yet, something still felt missing.

And there was a strange buzzing sound blaring in his ear.

Dean closed his eyes, trying to block it out. But, the sound kept going, refusing to stand down and give him peace.

Heaven shouldn’t be so loud like this...

With a gasp, Dean opened his eyes, heaving as the alarm on his phone continued to buzz him awake.

He was in bed. At home. Lying on soft sheets and pillows. The sun streaming in from the curtained windows.

He was okay. He wasn't dead. He was alive. Living. Breathing. Blood running through his veins.

His hand reached out to tap the ‘snooze’ button, silencing the buzzing for at least another ten minutes.

Still in a daze, Dean continued to lay in bed, blinking at the ceiling as he tried to hold on to the last vestiges of his dream.

He had died. He went to heaven, apparently. And heaven was different.

Bobby was there. Apparently, everyone else he knew and loved was there, too, though he didn't see them. He went for a long drive with Baby. Then, Sam had joined him. They were on a bridge, that same bridge from their first hunt together after Dad went missing.

Was that what heaven was like now? He wouldn’t know. Jack wouldn’t tell him – secretive kid.

“Dean! I heard your alarm! You better not still be in bed! We have plenty to do today!”

Dean smiled, shaking his head before sitting up and stretching. He could feel his muscles popping, his back twinging in that familiar ache.

Damn, he was getting old.

“I’m awake!” he called back as he moved the blankets aside.

He could smell the eggs and bacon.

Castiel was making breakfast.

Without wasting any more time, Dean slipped into comfy slippers and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

As a habit, his eyes roamed the simple beige wallpaper, the framed photos, the snug carpets, and the random pieces of furniture that didn’t match because they found them at different online listings.

Damn, he loved his house.

Lazily running a hand through his fair to give it some semblance of order, Dean entered the kitchen with a loud yawn.

“Morning, Cas,” he greeted, settling himself at the table where a mug of coffee already waited.

Their dog, Miracle, raised her head from her own breakfast to bounce up to him with a happy bark. He ran a hand through her fur, fondly scratching her favorite spots. Her tail wagged even faster in delight. She was getting on in years but was still the same beautiful and affectionate dog she was when Dean first found her.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Castiel turned his head away from the stove to flash him a smile before turning back to finish cooking.

With one hand still on Miracle’s fur, Dean lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh when he tasted the slightly bitter coffee. It warmed him up from his head to the tips of his toes as the caffeine woke his brain up.

He needed it today. Sam and Eileen were coming over tonight and there was a lot to get done around the house.

Plates of eggs and bacon were laid in front of him as well as an empty dish and a fork. Castiel passed him the salt and pepper shakers before sitting down across from Dean.

“Thanks.” Dean stabbed into the eggs and grabbed a couple of pieces of bacon.

Castiel hummed in response as he did the same.

Silently, the two men ate.

The forks clanged against the plates accompanied by the sounds of chewing. Every now and then, Miracle would whine, hoping to get a piece of bacon. (Dean snuck her a few when Castiel went to refill his coffee mug.)

Outside, birds sang their morning song and the squirrels chattered as they went about their business. Castiel said there was a nest of robins residing in the tree by their porch.

(He didn’t want Dean to cut the tree, even though it would give them plenty of space for a nice front garden.

“It’s their home, Dean!” he had insisted when Dean tried to argue his stance.

He had looked so distraught that Dean ended up giving in and leaving the tree alone.)

It had been five years since Castiel returned to the Winchesters from the Empty, graceless and human. Even if he was technically God now, Jack still had to make a deal – and the cost was Castiel’s grace. Castiel was no longer an angel and never would be again, even if he stole another angel’s grace. He was fully human, would live a mortal life, and would return to heaven as a human soul when he died.

After a close call with a vampire nest and almost dying from a nail in the back in Ohio (Sam managed to clear out the bodies, call 911, and get him to the hospital in time), Dean had decided, right there and then, that he was done hunting. He wanted stability.

He had his Free Will back and he was going to use it to create a new life for himself and Castiel. So, after looking around the area, he got a job as a mechanic at the town garage – he was always pretty good at fixing up cars. The money wasn’t much but at least it was legal this time. No more stealing credit cards and identity theft for him.

Not wanting to be a burden, Castiel applied for a part-time job at a convenience store. They had to forge his papers and create a new identity (Castiel insisted on taking Jimmy’s last name “Novak”, to honor his vessel) but that was the easy part. Because even though he had lived as a human before, the former angel still struggled with basic human needs. He’d forget that he needed to eat and would only be reminded if his stomach was growling and tightening in protest. And he’d forget to sleep until he lost consciousness while on his feet, wherever he was. But, soon, he got used to it, even if he found bathroom breaks so inconvenient.

For the first two years, Dean and Castiel continued to live at the bunker with Sam and Eileen, helping the couple with finding, researching, and solving cases.

Dean’s brother never truly left the hunting life. Sam was good at it and loved it more than Dean ever did. Besides, he had Eileen as a partner, this time, in more ways than one. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, Dean was loathed to admit. But, Sam was happy and Eileen took good care of him and always had his back – that was enough for the older Winchester.

Dean found the old farmhouse for sale at a cheap price three years ago. It was practically falling apart but still held a certain charm. Dean fell in love at first sight and when he showed it to Castiel, the former angel loved it, too. They bought it and fixed it up, renovating where they could. It took a year and all their manpower just to repair the roof, the front and back porch, and the kitchen.

When the farmhouse was ready and livable, Dean and Castiel officially moved out of the bunker and into their new home.

Dean continued to work as a mechanic, doing the best work for his clients and impressing the garage owner so much that he showed Dean the ropes of running the business. And he was an attentive student. Dean may not have graduated high school and gone to college like Sam but it didn’t mean he was uneducated. And he had even made friends with the other mechanics, learning their techniques and sharing his own. And, maybe someday, when he saved up enough, he could open his own garage.

Meanwhile, Castiel quit the convenience store when he discovered a Honey Farm nearby. He learned how to be a beekeeper – the bees always did fascinate him. He was good at it. He talked to the bees like he talked to people. Whether he could actually understand them or simply made up their conversations, it didn’t matter. He was a hoot among the older ladies and the kids.

(Sam and Eileen still lived at the bunker, finding it more convenient with all the resources they needed for hunts. When they weren’t on the road, they would come to dinner.

And, sometimes, even Jack popped in to say “hello.” Castiel always kept a box of Cookie Crunch cereal for him in the pantry.)

Their house was small. Their jobs were mundane. They had an everyday routine.

Their life was simple. But, it was theirs. Finally theirs.

“I’m going to the store after breakfast,” Castiel finally spoke up as he cleared his plate. “Do you have the list of things you need for dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s upstairs, I can grab it.”

“No need.” Castiel stood up to put his plate in the sink. “I’m going to get dressed so I'll get it. Where did you put it?”

“Dresser.”

Dean continued to eat while Castiel headed out of the kitchen, pausing for a few beats to fondly scratch behind Miracle’s ear. When he disappeared down the hallway, Dean tossed the last of the bacon to the dog before getting up and doing the dishes.

As he placed the last plate on the rack, Castiel returned to the kitchen, dressed in a polo shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a tan leather jacket. He had stopped wearing the trench coat a while ago, but the sight of him without still made Dean pause.

“I’ll be back in half an hour,” Castiel said.

Dean flicked the last of the water away before wiping his hands on a rag. “Okay. I’ll walk Miracle while you’re out.”

Castiel nodded. Then, he smiled shyly before leaning in and planting a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips.

“I’ll see you later.”

Dean squeezed his hand, offering a loving smile of his own. “See you later, Cas.”

Just like their life, their relationship was simple. Mundane, sometimes. But, if Dean was honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Gone were the days of one night stands and denials of how he felt. He was getting too old for all that. He had gone through hell and back (quite literally) plus purgatory. He deserved this, damnit.

Sure, Dean still had trouble expressing his feelings (thanks for that, Dad). He rarely even said the words that Castiel freely expressed. But, the advantage of them having their so-called profound bond was that he didn’t need to really say anything for his partner to know how he truly felt about him.

Castiel already knew. He had always known. And he didn’t expect Dean to change.

Besides, Dean was more of a man of action, anyway.

Miracle barked, looking up at him with excited puppy dog eyes. She was anxious to get out and walk and chase squirrels and get the occasional pets from excited kids.

“Alright, alright, give me a sec.”

Dean took one last sweep of the kitchen to ensure everything was fine before bounding up the stairs to the bedroom. He swapped his pajama pants for sweatpants and tugged on his worn brown leather jacket over his sleep shirt. (He could shower later.)

Downstairs, he grabbed his house keys, clipped Miracle’s leash to her collar, and led her out of the house, locking the door behind him.

Baby was still parked in her usual spot so Castiel must have taken the Corolla to the store. (He wouldn’t take the Impala out without Dean’s permission, anyway.)

The air was chilly but the sun was out and bright, making their walk pleasant. Miracle led the way, her head swiveling around as she sniffed the familiar surroundings. She chose a spot under a tree to do her business and Dean cleaned up after her. He tossed the bag into a nearby trash can before continuing on their way.

“Morning, Dean!”

He lifted a hand to greet their neighbor who was out on a morning walk. “Morning, James.”

He stopped for a few seconds to chat about the weather (“Nice weather we’re having”), about James’ wife and kids (“The missus told me Castiel gave her a large discount on a crate of honey. Thanks for that, it really means a lot”), and what Dean and Castiel’s plans were for the holidays (“It’s always nice to see family”).

Miracle began to whine and tug on her leash so Dean said his goodbyes and went on his way.

They stopped two more times, both for the neighborhood kids who were Miracle’s regular admirers. Little 5-year-old Emma who Miracle would stay still for as the little arms hugged her right. Then, there were the Ross triplets, who always had a treat for their furry friend. (This was why Castiel had been trying – but failing – to put her on a diet. She kept getting spoiled with treats!)

Once they made it to the end of their usual route, Dean gently tugged on her leash, signaling that it was time to return home.

The Corolla’s spot was still empty so Castiel hadn't returned yet.

Dean released Miracle from her leash and she immediately padded over to her pillow by the fireplace. Meanwhile, Dean went back upstairs and finally jumped into the shower.

By the time he was finished cleaning up and getting dressed, noises downstairs and a cooing of Miracle’s name indicated that Castiel was back from the store.

Dean made his way to the kitchen, pausing for a moment at the entrance to watch his partner put away the groceries. But, never one to miss a thing, Castiel turned to him and smiled.

“Hello, Dean. There was a sale on pie so I got you two.” He gestured to the kitchen table where two boxes sat.

Dean whistled, finally entering the kitchen to take a look. One box was labeled “apple” and the other “blueberry.”

“A man after my own heart, Cas!”

He took the few steps towards his partner, who was putting the meat in the freezer, and pecked his cheek in appreciation.

Castiel blushed, simply replying, “You’re welcome.”

With a happy grin, Dean helped put the rest of the groceries away. He didn’t need to start cooking until after lunch.

“By the way, Jody called while I was at the store,” Castiel said, putting a box of cereal away in the pantry. “She’s asking what we’re bringing to Thanksgiving.”

“I was thinking mac and cheese,” Dean replied as he folded up the grocery bags to be re-used for later.

“Claire’s cooking this year.”

“On second thought, maybe we should just bring the bird.”

“Dean.” Castiel was scolding but it was in a fond tone.

“The last time Claire cooked, Alex got to practice her nursing skills on us.”

“That was years ago.”

“My stomach has never forgotten, Cas.”

“It was her first time cooking, Dean. I’m sure she’s improved since then.”

Castiel always made good points.

“Fine. But we’re bringing our own Pepcid.”

Castiel simply chuckled in response.

After finishing with the groceries, they both went upstairs to get the guest room ready. Sam and Eileen always stayed the night. Castiel dusted while Dean changed the sheets to fresh ones and sprayed some air freshener to get rid of the dusty smell.

When that was done, they went back downstairs. Dean retreated to the living room to catch up on some of his shows. Meanwhile, Castiel picked up his book from the coffee table and went outside to the back porch to read the morning away. At some point, Miracle got up from her pillow to follow him outside.

At 11am, Castiel went back in and settled on the couch next to Dean.

“What should we have for lunch?” he asked, snuggling to his side.

“Maybe something light since we’re having a big dinner.” Dean placed an arm over his shoulder as he pursed his lips in thought. “PB&J?”

Castiel’s eyes practically sparkled at the suggestion of his favorite food in the entire world.

After lunch, Dean went back to his show and Castiel to his book. This time, both were in the living room. Miracle interrupted them at some point, begging Dean to play, to which he obliged and they played a half hour’s worth of fetch. Then, it was back to his show.

At 4 o’clock, Dean shut the T.V. off, Castiel marked his book, and Miracle napped, still exhausted from playtime.

The next two hours were a flurry of activity in the kitchen. Pasta simmered in the pot. Chicken baked in the oven. And leaves and veggies were chopped for a salad (because Sam would complain if there wasn’t some kind of healthy food on the table).

Dean liked cooking. And, don’t tell Sam, but he especially liked cooking for his brother. At the end of the day, Dean was still a big brother who wanted to take care of his baby brother, no matter how old they both were now. (But, even if he had a gun pointed at his head or was back at Hell’s gates, he would never confess to it.)

It was a little past six when the rumble of a car outside alerted them to their visitors. The table in the dining room was already set and the warm food arranged neatly by Dean.

Castiel opened the door and was immediately greeted with a hug from Eileen followed by Sam. Dean went out to meet them, practically jumping on his giant of a brother to receive a hug.

“Heya, Sammy!”

“Hi, Dean. The food smells great! I’m starving!”

They wasted no time settling into their respective seats and passing the food around. Sam and Eileen had brought a bottle of sparkling cider, which was opened and poured into everyone’s glasses.

“When did you guys get back?” Dean asked, passing the basket of dinner rolls to Castiel.

“Yesterday,” Sam answered, helping himself to a generous amount of salad. “We were pretty beat so we ended up sleeping until noon.”

“What was the case?” Castiel asked as he tore into his roll.

“Wendigo,” Eileen answered, pausing in cutting her chicken to sign. “In Iowa. It was luring kids from a small village to the forest. Took us three days.”

“Nice!” Dean signed. “Those bastards don’t stand a chance against Sam Winchester and Eileen Leahy!”

Everyone cheered, toasting to the success of the two hunters.

The conversation continued.

Dean shared updates on his work at the Garage and how he might be up for a promotion pretty soon. Castiel talked about his bees and how smart his co-workers were for their ideas of honey flavors.

As they finished up dinner, Sam loudly cleared his throat as he took Eileen's hand in his.

“So, uh, we have some news,” he began, flashing his girlfriend a look. She nodded at him, in encouragement. “And we wanted you two to be the first to know.”

Dean frowned. “This sounds serious. Is someone sick?”

The couple laughed.

“No, no, this is good news,” said Eileen.

Sam cleared his throat. “So… We wanted to tell you… that… we... well, Eileen… is… pregnant.”

The couple beamed while Dean almost choked on his wine.

“For real?!”

“Congratulations!” Castiel exclaimed.

Hugs were exchanged and Dean broke out a bottle of wine to celebrate his new status as Uncle.

“You should name it after me, Sammy!”

“Not a chance!”

Dean tried to act offended but he was much too happy to really argue.

Sam deserved this. He had a woman he loved, a job he was passionate about, and now a kid on the way. There was no doubt that he was going to be an amazing father. And Dean and Castiel would definitely be the favorite uncles.

After partaking in the apple pie for dessert, Sam volunteered to help Castiel with the dishes while Eileen spent quality time with Miracle.

Feeling stuffed and full of dinner and happiness, Dean took the opportunity to grab a beer and go out into the back porch for some fresh air. He leaned against the wooden column of the front porch, just taking it all in.

It was a peaceful night. The cicadas were loud, as always. An owl hooted from somewhere. Above, the clear evening sky was littered with bright stars, as if the heavens, too, were celebrating the addition of another Winchester in this world. Maybe they were. Jack would be aware of the news by now. Dean hoped he would come to visit soon. It had been a while and Castiel missed the kid. (Dean did, too, but don’t quote him on that.)

The door behind him opened and, soon, familiar arms wrapped around his waist.

“Hi.”

“Hey, angel.”

Castiel tucked his head on top of his shoulder. He was warm and Dean savored the feeling.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“How happy I am.”

Castiel hummed. “It is indeed happy news to find out you are having a nephew. A new addition to your family.”

“Our family, Cas,” he corrected, squeezing the hand at his stomach.

“Our family,” Castiel agreed.

Dean lifted the hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the knuckles. “I had a weird dream last night. I just remembered it again.”

“Weird in what sense?”

“It was… heaven, I think. But, it also… wasn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well… for one… you weren’t there.”

Damn, that was so cheesy. The apple pie life was making Dean soft.

But, then Castiel pressed an affectionate kiss to his temple and Dean was reminded why he didn’t mind the occasional softness so much anymore. (But, again, he wouldn’t admit it, even with a gun to his head.)

“But, I think my dream got it wrong,” he continued. “That wasn’t heaven. Not to me. My heaven is down here. With Sam. Eileen. Miracle. And everyone we found along the way.” He turned his head, meeting Castiel’s pretty blue eyes. “And, you, of course. There’s no heaven without you, Cas.”

“Dean…" Castiel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You are getting better at expressing your feelings.”

Dean laughed, softly. “Yeah, well, it only took five years and the news that I’m gonna be an Uncle. So, don’t get used to this, Cas.”

Castiel’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sure Jack has turned heaven into a wonderful place again. But, promise me, Dean, that you won’t go there yet. Not until your hair turns gray and your skin turns wrinkly.”

Dean patted his hand. “I’ll do my best if you do the same for me.”

Castiel chuckled and kissed his cheek before pulling away. “Come inside, Dean.”

“Give me a few more minutes.”

“Okay.”

Dean kept his gaze on the sky as Castiel left.

It didn't take long for him to have company again.

“So, why are you out here and not in there?”

Dean laughed. “Heya, Sammy.”

Sam leaned on the column opposite him, clutching his own bottle of beer.

“Just thinking,” Dean repeated his answer. “Just… did you ever think we’d be this happy, Sam?”

“Honestly? No. But… we deserve it… right?”

“Yeah, we do!”

For a moment, they were silent, simply listening to the night sounds and enjoying the warmth in their stomachs brought by the beer.

Then, Sam broke the silence.

“So, I was also thinking…”

Dean met his brother’s gaze, curious.

“Since Eileen is pregnant, we’re probably gonna take a break from hunting.”

Dean’s brows rose. “Yeah? That’s good. Focus on the health of the mom and baby and all that jazz.”

Sam hummed. "We talked about moving out of the bunker and getting a house and everything. Maybe get married, officially.” Sam took another sip of beer. “But, cases don’t end just ‘cause a hunter takes a break, right?”

“Yeah…”

His baby brother wanted to get married. Dean couldn't be happier.

“So, remember one time when we talked about creating a Hunter’s Network out of the bunker? You know, to help other hunters. Provide them with resources they don’t need to literally sell their soul for?”

Dean nodded, recalling a conversation they had about it a long time ago, right around the time he decided to retire.

Sam’s eyes flickered with hope.

“Well, maybe we could get started on that… if you’re willing to still be a part of it, I mean. I get that you have a different life now and you don’t want to hunt anymore, but you’ll be mostly hands-off in the cases. And Cas has some angelic and holy knowledge that maybe we can write down and turn into some kind of guide… if he’s willing to help out. You don’t even have to come to the bunker, I can just come here and we can work on plans and-.”

“Sammy.”

Sam broke off, taking a sip of his beer and avoiding looking at Dean, as if he was afraid of the answer.

And, to be quite honest, Dean hadn’t thought about being involved in hunter life. But, it wasn’t like he was out of touch with it. He still listened to Sam’s stories of his hunts. He had conversations with Jody when she called to ask for advice on dealing with some creature. He and Castiel still had some books on the supernatural on the bookshelf in their bedroom. And, he can’t forget about the guns and knives and other hunting apparel stored in a box under their bed and in Baby’s trunk. Heck, he and Castiel still carried a flask of holy water with them!

Hunting would always be in his blood.

He may no longer want to be directly involved but, maybe he could still help.

“Sure, why not?” Dean finally answered.

Sam’s head jerked towards him in surprise. “Really?”

Dean shrugged. “I may not be holding the gun anymore but I can tell another hunter how to kill a vampire in ten different ways.”

“Dean…” Sam looked like he was about to start crying.

“Saving people, hunting things, that’s the family business, right?”

He held out his beer bottle again.

Sam smiled and met it with his own. “Yeah.”

The brothers drank to that promise.

And Dean coulnd't help but think that, in his own way, he had found his own heaven on earth.

#supernatural #destiel

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legolaslovely · 5 years ago

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Dirty Dishes Part 1

Happy Fili Friday! I kid you not I almost titled this “Belly” but I decided to be normal and not. Also, I am not a baker, but I did research for this one and the recipes that I was mainly looking at for the treats mentioned in this story are linked below! I lost the link to the cake with the 26 eggs, sorry! But it was a real thing! I hope you guys enjoy!

Baked Apple Pudding

Lemon Syllabub

Shrewsbury Cake

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Word Count: 1,714

Warnings: literally none

Summary: Fíli loves visiting the mountain’s kitchens... not necessarily for the food :)

Dirty Dishes Part 2

The kitchens that lie deep in the mountain of Erebor were always busy. Cooks and servants were always bustling about, often preparing for the next meal or cleaning up from the previous one. The busiest dwarrows, however, were the bakers. They worked tirelessly, making the pies and puddings and sweets and treats that would flow through the mountain after every meal as if there were an endless supply. They and their creations were cherished by all, though the kitchens saw few visitors delivering thanks.

Most bakers did their work in the morning, leaving the afternoon free for market runs and routine housework. (Y/N), however, was a baker who spent most of her days crouched next to the wood burning ovens, happily humming while watching her bread rise or her cakes spread.

This afternoon, her cheerful song could be heard as she stacked her baking tools- biscuit tins, patty pans, cake hoops and more- on a large cutting board to carry them from the washing area to her preparation counter space. The recently washed dishes were slippery and dripping and as more and more tools were piled on top of one another, the board grew heavy. (Y/N) carried on with her song, sucking in a breath and lifting the mass, spinning to bring them across the kitchen.

“Let me help you with that!”

The voice startled her, making a little squeal bubble out of her mouth and the board wobble in her arms. Before everything could topple to the floor, it was all taken from her and set down exactly where she wanted it.

“Fíli! You startled me!”

He turned, leaning on the tall counter. “Sorry. In my defense, I thought you would have been expecting me,” he said, smirking.

“I must have lost track of time. The- the cakes took longer than expected. Oh, look at you. You’re wet, come here.” She pulled at her apron, running it over his arms that were damp from the dripping dishes. Her touch was quick and impersonal, but she froze when his fingers ran through her hair around her ear.

“You have flour in your hair.”

“Thank you.” His lips spread into a smile and for a moment, she watched their curve. Then she drew away before he could touch her again. “You find flour in the oddest places after a day of baking.”

“I’m sure.” He took the towel off her shoulder and began to disassemble the wet dishes and dry them. When she looked up, he was watching her. “You’ll need more wood for your oven soon,” he said.

She shook her head. “There’s plenty still. What you brought last week is all stacked in the pantry.” She took another towel from the counter and snapped it at him with a smile. “Besides, it’s not your job to bring the wood in.”

His ears went red and he chuckled. “We both know Buck won’t do it and I don’t want you doing it.”

“I can do it!”

“I know you can. But I don’t want you to.” He huffed. “Don’t give me that face, I’m not babying you, I’m trying to take care of you.” He snapped his towel at her while she was stunned still by his choice of words.

She returned to the dishes. “I don’t mind doing it. It gets me outside in the fresh air.”

“Then next time you need wood for the ovens, we’ll get it together.” With the last baking tool dried, he folded the towel and set it neatly on the edge of the counter. He raised his brows, waiting for her protest, and she laughed.

“Deal. Will you pass me that cake hoop please?”

He turned over his shoulder and pointed to a round silver tool that looked like it could be what she was talking about. “This?”

“The one next to it. Fíli, you come here almost every day, I would have thought you’d know what a cake hoop was by now.”

He scoffed and picked up the round hoop, sticking his hand through it and twirling it on his wrist and he circled the table. “I come here for you and your treats, you don’t give me baking lessons.” He stood behind her and leaned his chin on her shoulder, holding the hoop out for her to take.

“Are you asking for lessons?” There was a hint of friendly challenge in her voice.

“I’d rather leave the baking to you so I can continue to come bother you every day.”

She took some resting dough from the drawer below and kneaded it effortlessly. It was an activity she usually enjoyed, but now all she could think about was Fíli’s chest barley touching her back. “You don’t bother me, Fíli.”

“You enjoy my visits?”

She flipped the ball of dough and pounded it with her fist. “Can you hand me the jar of flour? I can never reach it, it’s behind you on the top shelf.”

“I will after you answer my question.” His breath tickled her neck.

“Fíli.”

“Do you enjoy my visits?”

She reached across the table and took a cake off the cooling rack. She shoved it in his face without turning around. “Eat this and stop asking me that.”

He chuckled and disappeared from her. Seconds later, the jar of flour landed on the counter next to her. “It’s delicious,” Fíli said, words gooey with cake. He leaned on the other side of the table, giving her the space she needed to work. “What else did you make today?”

Her vigorous kneading made her voice shake and Fíli chewed on his cake in order to hide his amused smile. “In the oven is a cake- a new recipe- and it looks good so far, but I don’t think I’ll make it again. It needs twenty-six egg yokes.” She finished with a wince.

“Twenty-six?”

“Yes! And the egg whites had to be whipped for what felt like eternity. I thought my hand was going to fall off.”

He glared at the cake in the oven, cursing it for causing her anything but joy. “What made you want to make this cake in the first place?”

“It’s supposed to be really good!”

His hearty laugh mixed with the cake almost choked him. “I’m sure it will be! And you’ll sup with us tonight.”

Her kneading slowed. “Oh, no, I have to clean everything and it won’t be done in time and I won’t be ready and-”

“I’ll come help you clean-”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yes, I will. I’ll come after my training session with Kíli. You deserve to eat what you’ve so painstakingly baked!” His brows flew up again as they so often did when he was waiting for her to argue with him.

She sighed. “All right. Thank you, Fíli.” She returned to her work, grinning at her hands and glancing up to see him watching her. Then she stopped. “Oh! I forgot, I made something you’d like. I want you to try it.” In her excitement, her hands flew out from her sides toward the end of the counter.

“This?” Fíli asked, standing near the treat she gestured to.

She turned over her shoulder as she wiped her hands. “That’s a custard.” She bent into the ice box to retrieve a dish and by the time she straightened, Fíli had already taken a bite of the custard she’d left out to cool.

“No, no! You- you won’t like that,” she said with a wince.

Fíli’s entire face scrunched as if he stuck an overgrown lemon in his mouth instead of a single bite of custard. Then he tilted his head. “It’s actually quite good.”

She set the cool plate on the counter and took a spoon from the drawer. “Don’t be nice, I know how you hate apples.” She didn’t miss his small shiver. “You’ll like this much better, here.” She held out a spoon full of white cream. Instead of taking the spoon from her, Fíli bent to take the end in his mouth, making (Y/N) roll her eyes.

“Mahal,” he groaned. “That is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. What is that?”

“Lemon syllabub. Cream, wine and lemons.” She giggled as he moaned again. “There will be more of this tonight in case the cake is a disaster.”

Fíli stole another spoonful. “Nothing you make could ever be anything less than delicious.”

“Just in case.”

He hummed. With his eyes closed in bliss, (Y/N) was able to watch him in peace. His tongue waved over his smiling lips. Pink on pink, soft, plush, pillowed-

“Aren’t you going to be late for your training session?” she asked.

“You’re right, I should go. Though I don’t know how much sparring I’ll be able to do with a belly full of your sweets.”

“I’m not sorry for it,” she said, rolling a few cakes in a thin towel. “I don’t know a dam alive who doesn’t love a full dwarf belly.” She met him by the door and gave him the little package. “These are for Kíli. Go give them to him now, don’t keep him waiting.” Her light hand found Fíli’s waist as she kissed his cheek. She chuckled at his surprise and gave him a little shove, closing the door behind him and returning to her work.

She couldn’t stop grinning as she hummed her favorite tune and continued kneading the dough she’d left on the counter. She was entertained by the dwarf who could flirt endlessly but couldn’t handle a small kiss from her. Pride bubbled in her chest at the thought of his wide eyes and tomato red ears.

The door flew open and startled her.

“Fíli, what’s wrong?”

Once the wrapped cakes were set safely on the counter, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He smiled against her lips when her hands again found his waist, bunching his tunic in her fists. He drew away with a wide grin. “Which hand almost fell off because of that cake?”

She stuck up her sore hand, silent and stunned.

He took it and kissed her knuckles and then her palm. He grabbed the cakes and said, “I’ll be back in a bit. Leave the dirty dishes for me.” And he ran out the door to meet Kíli.

Taglist! @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fizzyxcustard @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @teagarages @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af @zulfiya-the-warrior-princess @winchesterandpie @marigoldvance

#fili x reader #fili friday #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #dean o'gorman x reader

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rune-writes · 4 years ago

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Holiday Cookies

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Shinra Holiday 2020 » Day 1: Bake it til’ you make it

Word count: 1834

Rating: G

Summary: Elena isn't the best cook. As she is trying to make holiday cookies for Tseng, Reno walks in on her.

Note: A bit late, but here’s my entry for the Shinra Holiday 2020 event. This is also my first time writing the Turks, so hope you enjoy :)

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

“What are you doing?”

Elena jumped at the sudden voice. Her hand that was stirring another batch of cookie dough jolted to a halt. She knew that voice—that arrogant, half-amused, in perpetual teasing voice. As though he had the entire world in the palm of his hand. Reno stood in the now-open doorway, one brow raised in question.

How had he found her there? Elena had asked to use the kitchen in the dead of night when all the kitchen staff had gone home. They’d let her, albeit begrudgingly, and lent her the key, making her promise to make sure no one came and stole food from the pantry. Apparently they’d had a case of a thief for several nights, and no, it hadn’t been a rat.

“Good thing I’m not Tseng, though, right?”

Reno’s scoff brought Elena’s mind back to the situation. At the tilt of her head, Reno made a deliberate scan of the chaotic counter between them. Flour was strewn about, with splashes of milk and butter and egg, and in the center of it all was a plate stacked high with burned cookies.

Elena’s face went red with mortification.

“It’s not like no one knows,” Reno went on. “Except Tseng, that is.”

He crossed the kitchen, then sat on a stool he pulled from beneath the counter. He picked a cookie from the top of the stack, burned black and cut into what was supposed to be a gingerbread man, but the edges had crumbled, leaving only a decapitated head. Reno’s smile was crooked, but before Elena could warn him, he had taken a bite off the head. The grimace came almost immediately, his brows scrunched in disgust.

“What is this?”

Elena looked away and continued stirring the dough, willing her heated face to cool.

“If you’re thinking of giving these to Tseng, I suggest you think twice before—”

“How did you get here?” She cut him mid-sentence. She didn’t need his lecture to know how badly she’d messed up her first batch—and second. And third. Besides, it was two in the morning and she had locked the door.

“I’m on standby,” Reno replied, as though that justified him visiting the pantry in the middle of the night. “Figured I could swipe a chicken leg or something.” Elena half wondered if he was the one who’d been stealing food, but the thought stopped midway when she heard a soft crunch from behind her.

Her hand paused. Did he eat another? Those ruined, burned-black, disgusting cookies? Her heart had sunk at the sight of them when she’d pulled the tray out of the oven. But she’d figured the taste mattered more than the appearance and had taken a bite from a tree-shaped cookie. She’d almost gagged. Her second batch had come out still burned, but at least it was edible. Still not enough to present to Tseng, though.

“You, on the other hand,” Reno went on. Elena glanced at him. He tossed the last of a star-shaped cookie in his mouth, his grin turning wry. “Didn’t expect you to be the sneaky type.”

“What do you mean sneaky?” Reno waved the cookie as if to make a point. Then he eyed the mess on the counter. Elena’s frown deepened. She set her bowl down and turned around to face him, her hands on her hips. “For your information, they let me borrow the kitchen. Unlike someone.”

“At least I didn’t spend a week’s worth of cooking ingredients.” He picked a cookie from the top of the stack, one of the edible-looking ones, and bit into it. His brows drew together, but he still gulped everything down. “Imagine what the chef would say once he sees his storage is empty.”

Reno was exaggerating. Elena was only into her second bag of flour and had only used half a bag of sugar and several eggs. They were only a fraction of what the kitchen staff used daily. She doubted they would even notice.

“They know I’m making cookies,” Elena said in defense of herself.

“Bet they didn’t know you’re only just trying it out.” Reno picked another cookie from the plate. He inspected the round and plain chocolate chip, his lips pulled into a deep scowl at the black surface. “Tell me, did you follow a bad recipe, or are you just a plain kitchen disaster?”

“If you don’t have any constructive criticism to give, the door’s that way.”

“I’m just saying.” Reno tossed the cookie back onto the plate before picking another—a cane-shaped cookie with white icing on top. She’d hoped it could have masked the burnt taste, but she’d made the icing too salty. “Don’t be too ambitious if you don’t have any baking experience, and—” Reno swiped at the icing and licked it off his finger. He didn’t bother to hide his revolt. “Don’t mistake sugar with salt, please.”

That was only one time, though now a bag of icing lay in waste on top of the counter. That would earn her an earful from the head chef.

Reno exhaled a loud, exasperated sigh. He pushed himself off his stool then moved around the counter, taking the mixing bowl from Elena. “You don’t have enough flour,” he said with a click of his tongue as he tested the gooey consistency of her batter with the spatula. He pinched a little of the batter with his finger, and Elena held her breath as she watched Reno taste it. “At least you used sugar this time.”

“Of course I did!”

He glanced around, then grabbed the measuring cup sitting next to the flour bag. “How many cups of flour did you use?”

Elena bit back her frown as she wondered what Reno was going to do. “Three?” she said. Reno quirked a disbelieving brow at her, and Elena folded her arms. “I followed the recipe okay! It’s not my fault it doesn’t go the way it’s supposed to.”

“Then whose fault is it? The oven?”

Reno scoffed and reached toward the bag of flour to scoop for another cup. Elena’s eyes grew wide in horror and she was about to stop him. She could do this herself—she had to do this herself. What would be the point if she didn’t make the cookies she would give Tseng tomorrow?

“Just tell him you spent all night at the kitchen,” Reno said, adding half a cup of the flour into the dough through a strainer. He set the cup down, then began mixing the batter. “That’s not exactly a lie.”

“But—” Elena pursed her lips and looked away, ignoring the way her cheeks burned. “Stop reading my mind.”

“Then stop being an open book.”

Elena huffed and gritted her teeth. She could never win against her particularly obnoxious senior.

Reno mixed the batter with the spatula with expert dexterity. He added more flour when the batter was still too viscid, then mixed it some more until the consistency resembled a cookie dough. Elena found herself entranced by the way he moved with ease, the blue in his eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

“Can you really bake?” she asked.

Reno’s laugh surprised her—the sort of startled laughter as if she’d said something stupid. “I’m a Turk,” was all he said, as though that answered everything. She was a Turk herself, but she knew nothing about the kitchen. Though that was nothing new. Her own family had forbidden her to enter the kitchen, even when nobody was home. That was why she had to use the company’s kitchen in the small hours.

What if Reno was only putting on airs and the cookies he made now turned out worse than her own burned batch? What if he was playing her? Elena wouldn’t put it past him. Then Tseng wouldn’t look at her the same way ever again—and not in the way she hoped.

“You don’t believe me that much?” Elena blinked. Reno was looking at her from the corners of his eyes, a frown playing across his face. “All I want is to save Tseng from getting hospitalized. Now, either you get out of my way or you get me the parchment paper.”

He’d sounded so stern that for a split second, Elena had thought she was on a mission and he was her field superior. She stood at attention, then responded the way she would have as a member of the Turks. It wasn’t until she caught his tiny, teasing grin as she was turning around that she realized he was messing with her. Unease, mixed with exasperation, creeped its way into her heart.

“You’re not pulling my leg, right?”

His delayed answer made her think of the worst. He hadn’t added anything strange into the bowl while she wasn’t looking, had he? She could just imagine Tseng’s expression. The cookie would look good on the outside, but the moment her superior bite into it—the grimace, the disgust, the gag. What if he threw up in front of her? He’d get hospitalized for sure!

“You like him that much, huh?”

Reno’s eyes were uncharacteristically drawn, a slight crinkle around the corners that made him look... gentle, for once. Teasing still, but kind. In a blink-or-she’d-miss-it moment, his smile turned tender. Then he looked away and resumed his mixing.

“Relax,” he said. “After tasting your cooking, I fear for Tseng’s life if he has to eat it.” She took offense, her lips pulling into a scowl as a retort formed behind her mouth, but then he said, “Just take it as me trying to express Holiday spirits. I’m being sincere here for once, you know.”

That was the last thing Elena expected him to say. Holiday spirits? Sincere? Elena never thought those words existed in his vocabulary. For all she knew, her senior’s sincerity only existed on the battlefield when his target stood at the other end of his electro-mag rod. Elena had no reason to trust him, yet she had no reason not to trust him either. Maybe Reno really was doing her a favor. Whatever his reasons had been for visiting the kitchen so late at night, he was here helping her bake cookies when he was supposed to be on standby. Should she take him up on his offer? He’d do things his way no matter what she said.

“Fine,” she finally said. She turned around on her feet, then reached for the parchment papers in the cupboard. She spread it over the counter, but before Reno could scoop the now-thickened dough onto the paper, she held her hand over it, stopping him. “But if Tseng throws up in front of me, I’m going to say you made it for him.”

A pause, in which Reno’s turquoise eyes met her dark brown ones. The grin that spread over his face was almost challenging, but then he laughed a hearty laugh that came from his stomach and shook his shoulders.

“Deal,” he said, then he scooped the dough onto the parchment.

~ END ~

#shinraholiday2020 #reno of the turks #elena of the turks #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #ff7r #final fantasy #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff7 fanfic

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salexectrian-heir · 4 years ago

Text

Loki: Chapter 13

Pairing: Solavellan Rating: E*

Summary: Lavellan rescued a mischievious sphynx kitten outside her work who loves her dearly. But his destructive habits start to get out of hand when he steals her attractive neighbor’s underwear… repeatedly.

Chapter 13

It had been the single most perfect Valentine’s Day she had ever had. The dinner, the candles, the bath…

Ar lath ma.

The admission had been a whisper against her skin. She thought she might have even made it up, hearing things she wanted to hear, so desperately. Her heart beat took off in a rapid staccato, spurring her to wrap her arms around his neck and slate her mouth over his. His confession had tasted even sweeter on her lips. Had felt more steady than the way he carried her out of the bath. Had been more intoxicating than the pleasure he gave her over and over in his bed that night.

And yet it got caught in her throat when she tried to return it.

But that was why she was here now, outside his apartment. If she couldn’t say it yet, then she would show it. And then try to figure out why.

A small voice hissed at the back of her head that she knew the reason, that she was just a coward.

Nothing good lasts forever. Look what happened the last time a man told you that. Screaming matches, a family feud, heartbreak, a broken engagement, and running away.

She let out a sharp exhale, and quickly rolled her shoulders to chase away the fear. This time it would be different. She would be different. She had grown from that, and would shake off hold it had on her heart.

The key to his apartment was warm in her hand. Correction, now her key. She had been holding it tightly for the last five minutes standing outside his door, not quite ready to let herself in, mind revelling in the memories. If being honest, she was still not entirely over the fact that he gave her it in the first place. She had made him swear not to get her any gifts for Valentine's day on their date a week ago. She didn’t need chocolates or flowers (though she really did love getting flowers), and didn’t want him to feel like he had to buy her things just because some holiday dictated it. She would much rather receive a gift spontaneously, because he thought of her in the moment. And he listened. He did not give her his key on Valentine’s day. Instead, he waited until they had gone to bed.

“It is 1:03 AM,” he had said, reaching over her body to open the drawer of his bedside table and to take something out.

“Yeah, so?” She twisted beneath him, trying to get a better look at what he was doing.

“It’s no longer Valentine’s Day. I can now give you a gift.”

“Oi,” she had begun to protest, “I said we’d split this date evenly, and you already broke that rule.” Her attempt to pin his arm back down had been easily thwarted, “and now you’re about to break--” he interrupted with a kiss to her lips. Then to her nose. Then to her cheek, trailing down her jaw to her neck. Needless to say that distraction worked. While preoccupied with his mouth, he had pressed something into her the palm of her hand in the darkness. The shape was unmistakable.

“It is not much, but I figured it would be wise if you had a key to my place. That is, if you ever wanted to come over, even if it is three am after your shift when I am not away, or--”

Anise had not been so chaste in her interruption. Not at all.

“I said no presents,” she had said between kisses, “you lied to me.”

“Only by omission.”

She turned the key over in her hand. She was here to show her love, to fill his fridge with groceries so he would have something to eat when he got in tonight because she knew he would be too tired to go to the store himself before coming home.

The lock came open with ease, and the light from the hall trickled in as she opened the door.

In the dark, his apartment screamed ‘I’m lonely’. Flicking on the hall light didn’t do much to help, now it screamed ‘I’m lonely’ but with a fluorescent twist. She made a mental note to get him some better mood lighting. Candles seemed to be his go to, which are fantastic and romantic, but not always practical. And the amount of time he spent staring at his computer screen and doing paperwork… his eyes would thank him for it.

She loaded his fridge with the essentials for breakfast she knew he liked. Almond milk, berry yogurt, eggs, granola for his pantry, a few boxes of protein bars. And a few things he could make for a later meal, fresh vegetables and fish. On a notepad she found on the counter she left him a note about what he would find, a little heart.

On her way out, she paused by his bedroom door. His bed was immaculately made with not a wrinkle in sight. Like they had never spent nights together in it together. Like it had never been slept in at all. Heat rose rapidly in her cheeks at the idea her mind conjured staring at his bed. She shifted her weight as she stood in the doorway, debating whether or not to follow through on it.

“Why the hell not,” she thought and walked towards the bed, pulling her hair out of the bun that had kept it piled on top of her head.

She tossed back the comforter and broke the seal on the neatly tucked sheets. Phone in hand, she pulled her t-shirt over her head, left her bra and yoga pants on the floor, and climbed into his bed. She arranged his gray sheets over her body, pulled out her phone and laid down, her red hair spilling onto his pillows. With the front facing camera, she took a picture and sent it to Solas. quickly following up with a text of “i miss you”. He was most definitely on his flight by now, and most likely wouldn’t get it until he landed, and she would be well into her shift.

She didn’t fix his sheets before she left.

***

The first on-call room she tried to open she was met with a chorus of shocked outbursts. She slammed the door shut before she could see anything she would later regret.

“Locks exist for a reason,” she snapped at the couple through the door, pounding her fist on it for good measure.

The next one over was, graciously, empty and she quickly flopped down onto one of the beds. She needed just ten minutes to herself. The moment she had arrived at the hospital it had been chaos. A tractor trailer crashed into the bus that ran between downtown Haven and the suburbs on the highway, causing the ER to flood with bodies. She immediately started her shift scrubbing into an emergency surgery to assist Vivienne. Normally, the opportunity to scrub in with the Chief was well fought over by the residents, but no one protested when Vivienne called on Anise. There hadn’t been time for petty in-fighting this afternoon.

Their patient, the bus driver, suffered several ruptured organs in their abdomen causing massive hemorrhaging, and a few broken ribs. In the end, their spleen had to be removed but their liver was salvaged and the perforations along their intestinal track repaired.

The vibration of her phone trapped between her thigh and the firm mattress ultimately stirred her from the depths of her mindlessness. A smile formed her lips when she saw she had a text from Solas. The perfect distraction.

[Vhenan]

Thank you for the groceries. You are too kind.

[10:03pm]

A few seconds later, he sent another.

[Vhenan]

[Image]

Why are you not still in it?

[10:04pm]

It was a picture of his empty, ruined bed. Her smile broke into a full grin.

[Anise]

duty called, and it has been non-stop. but i just so happen to have some free time on my hands right now

[10:05pm]

[Vhenan]

Wasted, granted you are not here. I could think of many things to do to you with your hands in that free time

[10:05pm]

Heat pooled in her belly, trickling down to ignite that oh so sweet sensation between her thighs.

[Vhenan]

Though, I should not distract you from your duty. That would be unkind.

[10:05pm]

[Anise]

You. Tease.

[10:06pm]

[Vhenan]

Come over after your shift ends. Whatever time that is. I will make it up to you.

[10:06pm]

The sudden opening of the on-call room door startled Anise, and she dropped her phone right onto her face.

“I didn’t...interrupt something… did I?” Hawke said, hesitating in the doorway.

Anise’s already flaming face burned even hotter.

“No,” she said defensively, scrambling to sit up and stash her phone in her lab coat pocket.

“You aren’t really selling it.” Hawke kicked the door shut behind her and face planted on the bed on the opposite side of the room. Her voice came out muffled. “I’m laying down here anyway. Now spill it, Spice.”

Anise rubbed her face with both hands. Hawke wasn’t going anywhere, and she had been dodging her for weeks about her personal life, after she overhead Dorian’s well-intentioned teasing of her extracurricular affairs. So she decided to be honest.

“Well, I… started talking to someone.”

Hawke’s head immediately shot up. “Ooh, can I guess?”

Anise crossed her arms. “They don’t work here, so no.”

“Damn,” Hawke said, rolling over to face Anise, “you were able to meet someone outside of work? Where are you getting your free time, I would like some of that.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand Anise said, “It was more of an accident. Chance encounter type thing.”

There was no way in hell Anise was going to tell Hawke she only met Solas because her kitten stole his underwear. Nope, not ever. Hawke would never let her live it down.

“Lucky you, I take it that’s why you were grinning all doe-eyed at your phone?”

“I was no--”

“Oh, come on,” Hawke teased, and made a cheesy, hopeless romantic facial expression, “total lovestruck doofus.”

Anise grabbed her pillow and lobbed it at Hawke’s face for a direct hit. “Ass.”

“You got it bad, Spice,” Hawke cackled as she put the second pillow under her head, watching Anise stand and head to the door. “By the way, the new rotation schedule is up.”

Anise paused, her hand on the handle and looked over her shoulder. Hawke’s face broke into a shit-eating grin.

“Judging by your smugness, you got what you wanted. Ortho?”

“Hell yeah I did.” Hawke’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “You on the other hand…”

“Oh no, I don’t like that look…Hawke, just tell me. What’s my verdict?”

“You’re on Cardio.”

Anise gulped.

“Good luck dealing with Fenris.”

Hawke’s snickering followed her out the door.

***

Anise gasped and shot up in bed, fingers digging into the center of her chest, scratching at the skin and bone barrier that separated her lungs from the oxygen she so desperately lacked. It was only a small relief to find as she raked her fingernails down her sternum that her chest cavity was not in fact split open, but wholly sealed and unbroken.

Firm hands yanked her own away from her body, and pulled her forward into a tight embrace as she continued to get down as much air as she could. He cradled her head under his chin and held her close to his body.

“I’m right here.” His voice cut through the static buzzing in her head and she latched onto it. “Okay?” The familiar and comforting scent of him washed over her in seconds, and she began to relax in his arms. The steady rise and fall of his chest against her shoulder grounded her, and she tried to sync her own in time with his.

“Nightmare,” he said more so than asked, after a few minutes had passed and her breaths came at less labored pace.

She nodded.and shifted so she could face him. “I was in the OR for open heart surgery.”

A hand rubbed at her back in slow circles down her spine. “Aren’t you always?”

“Yes,” she laughed, but it was mirthless. More of a slight gasp. “But I was on the operating table. Awake,” she said, knuckles digging into her breast bone again, feeling its solid resistance against her touch. The beat of her heart was still a little too fast to be normal. “It felt so real, I could feel everything. I–I couldn’t tell it was a dream. How do I know this isn’t? And it’s not the anesthesia kicking in and–”

“Anise.” He entwined the fingers of his free hand with hers and guided it away from her body again. “Do you have a history of heart problems?”

Since I met you, perhaps.

“No,” she said instead, and felt more of the tension bleed out from her body.

“You’ve been working too much.”

As he said it, it clicked.

“I just found out I’m on cardio rotation next week, that has to be why.”

The cardiothoracic attending was a bit of a nightmare himself, to say he was impossibly judgemental and incredibly intimidating would have been an understatement. And on top of that, there was some kind of unspoken feud between him and Anders, which made it difficult to get to know him. Seeing as she was friends with Anders, he didn’t really give her the time of day.

She sighed. “I just can’t shake how… how real it was.”

“Well, I am reasonably certain we are awake now, half-dressed, in my bedroom.”

That made her truly laugh, and chased away the remaining fear that had been lingering in her body. “Only reasonably certain?” She traced a path long his bare thigh with her fingertips, enjoying the way he tensed at her touch.

His exasperation was evident in the sharp exhale he let out against the top of her head.

“Forgive me for my poor choice of words.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “But if I am being honest, you continue to surprise me every time you wish to stay.”

She turned her face so that it was only inches away from his own.

“I sometimes believe you are a figment of a dream I created and expect to wake in an empty bed.”

“So dramatic,” she said, and tilted her face so that she could capture his lips before he could pull away. “Am I everything you dreamed I would be?”

“That and more,” he said without missing a beat, laying her back down with a kiss and pulling the covers back over their bodies.

His hands continued to hold her as one kiss turned into another, and another...

Eventually, he drifted off into sleep. Her head tucked neatly under his chin, arms wrapped loosely around her body, and a thigh resting between her own. She was on the verge of joining him, but wanted to stay awake just a little longer in the comfort of his embrace.

Ar lath ma was her last conscious thought.

#solas #solavellan #solas x lavellan #solavellan fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #light chapter

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