#I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to get the hot sauce thing out of my head since I noticed Monica’s coworker packing it up and crying

[shitpostingperidot]

The Marvels + hot sauce

Carol:

Keeps at least 3 bottles on her ship

Prioritizes moving all hot sauce, including packets, to earth

Monica:

Enjoys what’s available on Carol’s ship

Keeps a bottle at work, which is a strong enough reminder of her as a person that it makes her grieving coworker cry

Kamala:

This is the closest Kamala gets to interacting with hot sauce on screen, but given that she ended up eating the biryani without knowing its spice level and liked it, she would be totally fine with the mere 450 scovilles of Monica’s work hot sauce (Louisiana brand)

Bonus: iman vellani out of character

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 

“You okay?” 

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said. 

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[artificialqueens]

Potluck Challenge Entry (Raja/Willam) - Dartmouth420

summary: Willam only decided to host a potluck for everyone from the office because it’s the ideal situation in which to hit on her unprecedentedly attractive coworker, Raja. But the recipe for vegan canapés she found online is a dud, and no one’s being very helpful… Lesbian AU, Raja/Willam. Featuring: Alaska, Bianca, Adore, Courtney, Latrice, Jinkx and Dela. 2180 words.

A/n: V, this one is for you ;) cw: weed (weed is legal here in Canada but idk what's going on in America so take this with a grain of salt!)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“A good idea? A potluck is a great idea!” argued Willam, looking frantically from the photo header of the online recipe on her phone to the misshapen and bizarre vegan canapés in front of her. They didn’t look like they were supposed to. “This recipe is obviously defective! They’re getting a one-star rating.”

Alaska, her roommate and official best friend, rolled her eyes, and replied dryly, “Well, I’m not gonna say I told you so… but inviting all your coworkers over for a potluck when you know for a fact you can’t cook is asking for trouble.”

Alaska, of course, had made a truly spectacular grilled vegetable bruschetta, and had somehow found the time to make fresh sourdough garlic bread, and marinara sauce on the side. God damn it.

Willam huffed, but she was completely and utterly out of time, so she just took the tray and put it on their shared kitchen table. Then she rushed to the bathroom mirror to check her reflection, because she knew where her priorities lay. She looked good, her lipstick and eyeshadow were impeccable, her cleavage was industrial-grade, and she fluffed her loose blonde hair.

There was only one reason Willam wanted to host a potluck anyway; as an excuse to get to know her hot new coworker, Raja. Raja was confident, smart, and moved with a subtle intentionality that made Willam really want to get bent over a desk and railed with a strap-on. She was tall, had beautiful high cheekbones, dark sensual eyes, elegant grey-streaked hair, and was incredibly hot. Raja made an office-appropriate blazer look like sex on wheels.

Oh, and she was really fucking funny, too. 

Willam had barely been able to concentrate at the office for weeks, because Raja kept saying incredibly sexy and suggestive things to her like, do you have the wifi password? and oh yeah, I just moved here from L.A., and the coffee is pretty good with oat milk, and hey, can you pass me the stapler?

Clearly, the office element of the office romance was getting in the way. So, Willam’s plan to seduce her at the potluck held in her own home was genius, the only problem was that the canapés looked idiotic, probably tasted terrible, and she didn’t have time to fix them.

The doorbell rang. Alaska mildly walked over and reached for the door handle…

Willam whirled out of the bathroom, darted up to the door and reached around her, “Do not hog my light-!”

Alaska crossed her arms and pursed her lips, stepping back from the door. Willam laughed, leaned sexily in the doorway, and pulled the door open.

“A potluck? What kind of an idea is that, we all know you can’t cook, bitch,” said Bianca dryly, standing on the step, holding a glass casserole dish against her hip.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Willam, disappointed.

“You bet it’s me,” announced Bianca, pushing past her inside, and leaning in to kiss Alaska’s cheek, murmuring suggestively. “Hey darling, haven’t seen you in a while…”

“Stop hitting on my roommate.”

Alaska giggled and purred, “Oh hi Bianca, it has been a while hasn’t it? How’s Courtney?”

“Didn’t you hear? We broke up…”

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, I had no idea..."

Willam made a retching sound.

Bianca came into their home and deposited her beautiful, decorated lasagna, thick with cheese and meat, next to Willam’s dubious canapés. It looked amazing, and smelled delicious.

“Wow, these are… something,” said Bianca, looking up from the canapés with a shark-like smile. “I’ll give you a gold star, honey, you did try.” She noticed the bruschetta, bread and sauce set out. "Alaska, this must be yours, looks fantastic! I can't wait to, ah, get a little taste of it on my tongue."

“And I can’t wait to taste your dish either, Bianca,” said Alaska, fluttering her eyelashes at Bianca and reaching for a plate.

“No, not yet!” insisted Willam, even as her stomach growled. Everything had to be perfect for Raja, who would probably bring something unbelievably impressive. On top of being incredibly hot, she was probably also a five-star chef.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang again, and more people from the office arrived in rapid succession. They were a timely bunch, apparently. Latrice, Courtney, Adore, Dela and Jinkx, everyone was here! And all of the conniving assholes she had once considered friendly coworkers had shown Willam up, each bringing something creative and impressive and homemade. Courtney in particular seemed determined to compete with her ex, having brought a vegan cashew and mushroom pasta casserole in a nearly identical glass dish to Bianca's lasagna. Even Adore brought her home-brewed beer, for fuck’s sake. Between all of them there was enough food for the vegans and the non-vegans, and probably all of Willam’s other neighbours on the block too.

Luckily, people seemed fine to linger and talk and start the drinking early. Several more minutes passed, and Raja didn't appear.

“Who are we still waiting for?” asked Adore, looking around the room.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry,” added Dela.

“Everything looks fantastic,” added Latrice.

“Except for the canapés,” snarked Bianca.

“We’re waiting for Willam’s crush…” teased Alaska, nudging Willam in the side. 

Courtney rolled her eyes, “You’re starving us because Raja is late? As usual?”

“Hey!” snapped Willam, “She’s probably like, making an actual wedding cake or something. You know her. She’s talented!”

“Now a wedding cake is something I can get behind…” commented Jinkx, looking suggestively to  Dela. Dela ignored her.

"Did they break up again?" whispered Latrice to Willam. Willam shrugged, she had no idea.

But Raja still wasn't here, and Willam was sweating through her deodorant with nerves! Ugh, at this rate she was never going to get laid.

“Let’s just go ahead and start,” said Willam, diplomatic, which she thought was extremely admirable of her given the high-stakes nature of this casual potluck. “If she’s late, then she’s late and she can’t complain if she doesn’t get first choice.”

“And if she’s lucky, the canapés will be long gone,” commented Bianca, nudging Latrice, who laughed along before glancing longingly at Dela, and they stepped up to fill their plates.

People filed around the table, chatting and giving one another compliments on what fantastic creations they’d brought, even Adore’s home brew. Though to Willam, the nine-percent-alcohol beer tasted like a yeasty grapefruit had been left out in the sun for too long.

Willam sighed, and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms with disappointment. Maybe Raja wasn’t going to come to the potluck at all. Maybe she hadn’t picked up on Willam’s highly subtleindications that she wanted to get railed, or worse… wasn’t interested?!

But then the doorbell rang.

Willam leapt up from her slump against the counter, and sprinted to the door. She adjusted her skirt and pushed her tits up a little further in her bra, counted fifteen seconds down, and opened the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” said Raja, with a casual grin that could charm a rocket to Mars. Willam nearly fainted with the force of it.

“Oh, uh, welcome!” said Willam, stepping back and holding the door open, noting that Raja had a tote bag over her shoulder. Raja entered, looking around curiously. She wore a very normal outfit of a button-up and jeans, but it was somehow the sexiest thing Willam had ever seen, and she wanted to tear her clothes off with her teeth.

“Nice place.”

“Thank you, it’s cheap,” replied Willam, leading her into the kitchen, and hoping Raja was taking the opportunity to look at her ass.

“Look who’s here!” said Willam as they entered the room, and everyone turned to look. Willam hadn’t expected that. But maybe she shouldn’t have announced it.

“Hey guys,” said Raja, putting her tote bag down on the kitchen island, tucking her long, sensual, elegant hair over one shoulder. “So… an office potluck, that’s a fun idea.”

“It sure is,” replied Bianca, raising her eyebrows, “Why don’t you come over here and check out Willam’s canapés…”

“No!” said Willam, hurrying to change the subject. “Uh… Raja, what did you bring?”

“Let me see…” Raja dug around in her bag, and took out a package of the cheapest grocery store brand chips available.

Alaska blinked with surprise. Courtney scoffed. Bianca and Latrice looked at each other and winced.

“Nice, I love chips,” said Adore, nodding contentedly.

But Raja didn’t seem embarrassed at all, or even aware of the anyone else’s judgement. What a sexy quality. Plus, she was still digging around in her bag.

“Oh yeah, and this,” said Raja. Willam’s heart beat quickly with anticipation.

It was a bottle of cheap chardonnay. Only two-thirds full.

“She didn’t drive here, did she?” whispered Dela to Jinkx. Maybe they were back together?

“Hang on…” continued Raja, giving Willam a knowing wink.

Willam wasn’t sure she could handle the anticipation; her pits were damp, and so was her pussy. If Raja didn’t pull something truly impressive out of her bag, her standing in the office would be ruined forever! But the silver lining, considered Willam, was that her disastrous canapés wouldn’t be nearly as memorable compared to Raja’s chips and wine.

With a flourish, Raja pulled one final thing out her bag and slapped it on the table. 

Everyone leaned in to see what it was.

It was a plastic ziplock bag, full of dense, deep green, rich buds of weed. It had to be at least an ounce. Willam nearly drooled, the weed looked so good; fresh and sparkling with crystal-like feathers on the dried, curled leaves, likely to produce a wonderful, mind-bending high.

“I didn’t have time to make it into brownies,” said Raja, shrugging, “I hope this is okay…?”

“Oh, this is more than okay!” said Alaska, clapping her hands together gleefully. “I’ll get my bong…”

“Wow,” said Courtney, coming over to look at the baggie. “Is that local…?”

“Like so local, I grew it on my balcony,” replied Raja proudly.

“And I thought growing tomatoes on my balcony was impressive,” commented Dela.

“No way, I grow balcony tomatoes too!” added Latrice, turning to Dela with a delighted smile. “But only the cherry vine variety, what about you?”

“Well, I just learned about this dwarf variety out of Florida called the ‘micro tom,’" replied Dela, glowing with Latrice’s attention. "And they’re specifically designed to thrive in pots…”

"I can't grow a vegetable to save my life," commented Raja.

“Don’t talk to me about gardening,” deadpanned Bianca. "I hate dirt."

“But then why do you love telling me I'm such a dirty girl…?” replied Courtney smugly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Bianca seemed lost for words, a rare occurrence.

“This is way better than chips,” sighed Adore, happily.

“Raja, you’re really taking the cake tonight,” declared Jinkx, before looking longingly at Dela again. "But apparently vegetables are the way to go…”

"Pretty sure tomatoes are fruits, Jinkx," said Adore, putting her arm around her. Jinkx raised her eyebrows, turning to Adore affectionately. Romance, or maybe it was just drama, was in the air tonight.

Alaska came back out with her bong, clean and polished and ready to rip.

Willam, personally, had been rendered speechless. Everyone went back into motion at once, the group splitting up to grind the buds and roll joints, and load up food on plates, and they all started talking at once. They complimented the dishes, sampled everything, and successfully kept track of what was vegan and what wasn’t, etc. It occurred to Willam, as she stood there with her mouth half-open and her friends milled around her, that this was actually a really successful potluck. Everyone was eating, drinking, smoking, (or choosing not to drink or not to smoke, whatever their preference) and having a great time. Wow.

“Here,” said Alaska, dryly, pushing a plate of food into Willam’s hands.

“Oh, right,” said Willam, and looked down, remembering she was hungry. She wolfed in what was on the plate. Everything was absolutely wonderful, except her canapés, which were dubious.

After talking to Bianca about an upcoming meeting, complimenting Adore’s strange homemade beer, sliding past Latrice and Dela as they bonded flirtatiously over the nuances of tomato husbandry, accepting a hug from Jinkx, and replying vaguely when Courtney asked in a hushed tone if Bianca 'had been flirting with' Alaska, Willam finally made her way over to the sink to deposit her empty plate. Someone, ideally Alaska, would do the dishes tomorrow.

“The canapés were pretty good,” said a low voice behind her, and Willam turned to see Raja with her own empty plate, and a coy little smile on her mouth. “And thank you for inviting me, by the way.”

“Oh, you liked the canapés? Really?”

“Of course I liked them, you made them, after all… and in case it isn't obvious, I can't cook either,” replied Raja, putting her plate in the sink, and leaning in close to Willam as she did so. "I spent like forty-five minutes panicking over what to bring."

 Willam breathed in sharply, wildly aroused by Raja’s sheer proximity, and the sexy smell of weed and perfume that drifted from her. Multiple crevasses were getting damp again, and Willam might need to take a breather…

Raja plucked a joint from her chest pocket, and held it between her slim, tattooed fingers, and said, “So, do you want to go smoke this in the back yard and make out?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” replied Willam, unable to suppress her delight, and barely able to believe her luck. She took Raja’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, while everyone was occupied talking amongst themselves, enjoying the shared gifts of food and weed.

End

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (01)

word count; 6959

summary; after making a somewhat reckless decision in the heat of the moment, newt gives you some harsh truths, and some good advice.

notes; this first part isn’t all that exciting, admittedly, but these first few parts set a grounding for the rest, so you just have to rock with it.

warnings; reference to injury, building fire, reference to dementia.

Stepping into the main room, you glanced around, catching the eye of your friend and colleague, the blond who was waving at you from the tall counter. His foot was propped up on one of the taller stools, a plate of pancakes in front of him as he held a pen between his teeth, the newspaper out before him. 

Striding across the room towards him, the fireman you’d come to know as ‘Fry’ due to desperate love for cooking when he wasn’t on a call was grinning, flipping a couple more pancakes over the stove, and he reached for another plate, placing it in front of the Empty seat. Lifting his foot down, Newt left the seat available to you, and despite the chatter in the room, you could still hear his excited ‘hello’, even if it was spoken around the pen in his mouth, which promptly dropped, and he fumbled to catch it. 

“You’re chipper this morning?”

“I got here before Brenda, which means I get the puzzles in the paper.” He waved the paper at you, before putting his pen down on it and picking up his fork, not bothering with the knife as he tore off an extra piece of the pancake, syrup dripping from it as he lifted it to his mouth, a drip falling down his chin. “She always does the crossword before I can get there, and she messes it up by putting the wrong words in and quitting halfway through. Not today, though.”

“Close your mouth, you’re so gross!”

He made an extra loud smacking sound as he ate, leaning in as he chewed with his mouth open, and you cringed, laughing as you leaned away, the hot breath with a sickly-sweet undertone washing over your face. The plate before you was piled with three pancakes of your own, a bottle of syrup being passed over to you, and you turned to Fry, flashing him a grin and a nod in thanks, before picking the bottle up. Raising your hand, you pushed Newt away from you, laughing a little. 

The main door scraped loudly, your attention directed over to it, and the lieutenant you had already managed to get on the wrong side of was already staring at you both. His brows were furrowed, jaw tense, and eyes cold, and despite it all, you tried to offer him a polite nod, one which he simply ignored as he tore his eyes away from the pair of you, and watched you leave the room. He wandered away, taking a seat at the table with the rest of the crew, and you were happy to simply ignore him, knowing that engaging with the issue was only going to make your time here more miserable. 

Turning to your food, you focused your attention back on Newt, who had turned the newspaper around to sit equally between you both, his hand under the edge of your stool to pull you closer to look over it all, and you squeaked a little as you were dragged in his direction. “I need a nine-letter word that’s a synonym for ‘fair’. Starting with ‘I’.”

“I’m no good at crosswords.” You teased, taking a chunk out of your stack and bringing it to your mouth, chewing happily as he gave you a mock glare.

“Well, what fucking good are you as a partner then, huh?” You grinned, knowing he was joking, despite how hard he was trying to keep his face serious, the glint in his eyes and the twitches at the edge of his lips making it hard for you to take him with anything severity. “Fine, what kind of puzzles do you like?”

“I’m a sudoku fan.”

You tapped a finger at the empty blank grid, only a few of the numbers already put in, and he rolled his eyes with a groan. “You’re awful, the absolute worst, actually.”

He shoved at your arm, trying to push your way from him once again, and as he did, your body jerked, the food on your fork dropping down your front and rolling over half of your shirt to come and sit on your pants. You stared at it, the sticky food covered in fibres from your shirt and your pants, your brows furrowing and lips pursing, and when you looked back up to Newt, he was biting down on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“That was an accident. I swear it.”

“Uh-huh.” You picked the sticky chunk up, groaning a little at the golden sauce that had made a stain along the crisp white paramedic’s shirt you were wearing. You let out a sigh, brushing your fingers over it to try and clear the spot, but it only got worse, your skin getting sticky. “I’m going to have to go and change now, when I get back, you better be ready to do the sudoku instead.” 

He snickered under his breath, nodding his head and watching as you got up to leave the room, his eyes lingering on you as he went. 

Another set of eyes were lingering on you, every step you took until you had left the room, and Thomas huffed a little once you were gone, his gaze snapping over to his friend, who still had a small smile on his face, and evacuating his seat to travel towards his best friend, filled with the intentions for a not-so-subtle interrogation and questioning, he crossed the room, taking a seat in the stool you’d evacuated. 

“Well, you two looked awfully cosy.”

Newt looked up at him, raising a questioning brow, a cocky grin on his face, before he took in Thomas’ expression, and his facade fell away as he realised his best friend wasn’t joking. “Not quite my type, in case you haven’t noticed. I prefer my lovers with a little more cock.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Thomas huffed, and Newt ignored him.

“She’s exactly your type, though.” Thomas’ jaw dropped, the idea of such a thing making pure fire burst through him, anger surging in his system just at the idea of you. You irritated him, you made him want to pull his own hair out, and he’d only known you for two weeks, but in those two weeks, you were steadily growing on his nerves. “Paramedic, smart, cute, scalding kind of humour, pretty eyes. Worked for you last time, are you sure all this hatred you have for her isn’t just sexual tension?”

Thomas squirmed in his seat, and Newt waited for the laugh, for any kind of reaction, before sighing again. Thomas didn’t look up, instead, he busied himself with playing at the hem of his shirt, swallowing thickly as memories of the last paramedic the house had carried came flashing through his mind. 

“Okay, look, I’m sorry for bringing up Teresa.” Thomas finally glanced up, seeing that his friend really as sorry, and so he gave in, never being able to stay angry at him for too long. “You have to give her a chance, though. She’s sweet, she’s good at her job, and you were the one that kicked things off on the wrong foot, so-”

“I was clearly in a bad mood. She was eavesdropping and then held the things I said in the moment against me. That doesn’t count.”

“Uh, yes, it absolutely does.” Newt’s voice was monotone, and he knew not to argue with him when he got like this, because not once in over two decades of friendship had he ever won a fight when Newt took on that tone. “Listen, you two have been chafing at the bit to scream at each other once again, but I’m impartial here, an-” His face lit up, turning back to the paper in his hands, and he let out a loud cheer, writing the word ‘impartial’ down into the box, the final piece to complete his crossword puzzle, and that did earn a chuckle from Thomas. “What was I saying?”

“Nothing important.”

“Hey! Everything I say is important.” Newt grouched, flicking the pen at him, and as the main doors, scraped back open, all eyes darted up to you for just a second. 

Thomas was sitting in your seat, a steely look on his face as Newt sat beside him, folding the paper over to face the side with the sudokus on, and before you had a chance to think about how to approach the pair, you were being saved by the bell. The loud blaring of your signal call was sounding out, and everyone went quiet, waiting to see who was called from the slightly crackling speakers. 

Thomas and his team moved first, squad being called tot he scene, and before even hearing for medical assistance, you knew you’d be going along too. Newt fell from his chair, following after the crowds as they went, Brenda still with a piece of toast clamped between her teeth, breakfast being abandoned as the first call for whats was clearly going to be a long day coming in, and you followed after newt, a slight jog to your movements as you made your way to the van. 

Hoping up into the passenger side, your vehicle was the first to go, the trucks following only moments later when the gear had been grabbed and regular shoes swapped out for heavy-weight boots, neat rows of shoes matching up as the garage was emptied. Instructions were already flashing up on the dashboard, loud and clear, your fingers fumbling for the siren as the busy roads of rush hour traffic, mother's on their way for the school-run and office workers desperate to get in on time blocking the streets, and the loud wiling overhead took over. 

Smoke was visible from four blocks away, a mid-rise building of apartments curling up in flames, the acrid black clouds billowing up into the air, and Newt severed a little as he came crashing up onto the pavement. Police had already arrived, a perimeter being set u by offices and volunteers as groups gathered around, the pressure once again falling on you as your team took the spotlight. The public could be fickle, it was a problem you were familiar with, having seen so many good firemen, paramedics, doctors and all workers of the good fall, one bad story and a career would be ruined, and you could only wish that would never be you. 

Climbing between the seats and into the back of the vehicle, Newt rounded it, unlocking the doors from the back as you began to search for the equipment, still a little unfamiliar with the layout he held, half a month not giving you much time to adjust to everything inside. With a pack slung over your shoulder, blue flashing and the deeper honking of the horns on the fire trucks signalled their arrival, and you watched as each team disembarked from the vehicles. 

Swinging your pack up onto your shoulder, you chucked newt his own, hopping down from the truck and shouldering your way past civilians to reach the firemen of your house, Newt following, until you could find where they were all pulling on their masks, sitting atop their heads and ready to be pulled down, helmets in their hands as they waited for their instructions. 

Thomas was staring up at the flames, lips parted a little as he licked at them to keep them wet, the orange glow casting flickered across his face, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his mind. 

“Okay, truck on the lower floors, search and rescue operations get everybody out to Newt, we’re not working on putting anything out until every soul in the building is clear.” 

Gally nodded, helmet on the top of his head as he adjusted his gloves, ensuring every patch of skin was covered, and despite the bickering that went on in house, the jokes and petty rivalries that ever lasted, it all seemed forgotten in the field. There was no denying that Thomas was a natural-born leader, he was undeniably the right choice, and everybody else seemed to know it too, because the pecking order became apparent when lives were at stake. 

“Brenda, I need you on equipment. I want the ladder up to the fifth floor. I’ll be sending people from the higher floors down to truck team, so be ready for that. I need you quick, because I’ll be climbing as you position it.” Thomas turned, glancing up at the building for his entry point. “There, north-face window. Already broken. That’s where I’m going in, Minho, you’re with me. Once we’re in, pull the ladder back, we’ll sweep the floors and come down.”

“Where do you want me after that?”

“Hoses, high as you can get them, truck can take them inside and we can start from the bottom, and work up, make it safe to get people out. We all clear?”

A symphony of mumbled agreements rose up, the team snapping into action, and you and Newt moved back to the truck, setting yourselves up for the task ahead. The loud whirring of the crane ladder set off, Brenda at the controls as she stared up at the building, and you stood in slight awe as you watched her work. 

This was your first call in which the squad engine equipment had really been used, your last house not having been big enough to have one, and this was your first time seeing the ladder unfold with your own eyes. Thomas was standing on the top of his truck, masking down and helmet on, staring up at the building as he waited for the ladder to move, and before it had even begun extending it’s second set, he was moving. 

Crawling up at the steep angle, it was barely a climb as it still began to raise, placing unwavering faith in his teammate as he went, moving toward the end of the ladder, the second set unfolding, and as he crawled onto it, he paused, letting it drag him closer to the building as it extended, before he was getting closer once again. His body was ducked down, the closer he drew to the broken window, the thicker the smoke got, the flames roaring out into the air, and he disappeared from sight as he slipped into the burning building. 

Minho was next, already moving up the ladder in chase of his commander, and when he disappeared inside too, your eyes snapped away. The splintering of wood, Gally kicking the locks open on the front of the building as the doorframe began to give way, the doors too hot to try and push with hands, and next up was the truck team. In the truck team went, the ladder retracting from the moment Minho had vacated the rungs, and Brenda was pulling it back down to the roof of the vehicle. 

Clint and Winston were unrolling the hoses from the truck vehicle, Chuck was screwing them into the hydrants dotted along the street, and then more of your team was running into the building. More of the team. You closed your eyes, dragging your gaze away from the building and reminding yourself not to get too attached to them all, because you weren’t even sure if at this rate you were going to make it sixth months here, never mind an entire year, or your career. With every house you moved to, it made it seem more and more likely that you just weren’t going to find your home.

Newt nudged his elbow into your arm, snapping you front he wallowing thoughts you were having to be able to look up, and the first two firemen were leaving the building, guiding a group out from the first floor, people who had been stuck there and were covered in soot and dust, eyes bloodshot and trembling violently in the shock. You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of everything that didn’t matter in this moment to be able to focus on what did, and as your thoughts cleared, you received the first person. 

Sorting the group into most needing of assistance to least, you started with the older members of the group as Newt worked with the kids, a packet of Disney-themed band-aids out to be used as he started to patch up cuts and clean the grazes, fingers wiping tears from little cheeks as he kept a bright smile, and you admired him. 

You didn’t know who the person who came before you was, and you weren’t too sure what happened to Newt or what made her leave, but you weren’t sure why she’d ever want to. If she’d been accepted by the people here, if she’d become a part of this family, you had no idea why she’d ever throw that away.

In the few weeks you’d been here, you’d already noticed that they were not only a team, but they were all connected. Every bond was special, even when they bickered and fought it was out of love, every teasing jab being made with affectionate undertones and bitten-back smiles, and you envied the way they never had to worry about someone having their back, about fitting in or not being accepted, because they had a home with one another. 

Volunteers of people on the street were volunteering to help, offering phones to the people who needed to call their families. Those who lived nearby had found blankets, bottles of water and supplies that they had brought over, the neighbourhood coming together to help one another in a crisis. Friends and family who had heard what happened, receiving desperate calls or watching the news had arrived, searching for their family members, and as you found a contact for every person coming out of the building, you made them fill out forms before being taken to the hospital. 

The squeaking of the hoses made you realise that the flames were slowly dying out, the smoke getting thicker and heavier as it was dampened, but the glass was no longer smashing and there was no more snapping of the building’s foundations to be heard. The lower floors were put out, the temperature in the air surrounding you beginning to drop down as it started to cool, the blazing inferno the building had once been was now being contained, and Gally emerged, from the doorway, large frame filling the entrance as she walked, an older lady carried in his arms as she trembled, and you moved to pull out the stretcher for her, knowing that she’d be needing to go to the hospital. 

She looked to be in her late eighties, possibly even early nineties, and as she was placed down, you smoothed her hair back, trying to offer her a soothing smile as you lifted an oxygen mask over her face. 

“I’m (Y/N), I’m going to get you all sorted out, and then we’ll take you to the hospital, okay?” 

She only nodded her head weakly, and you snatched up another form to begin filling out for her, the crowds beginning to dissipate slightly at the excitement and shock of it died down, situation being handled, and as less eyes were on you, watching you work, you felt like you could breathe a little better once again.

“Can you tell me what your name is?”

She nodded, a hand coming up to lift the mask off gently, and she coughed a little, fresh air not being as helpful to her as the pure oxygen had been, gasping slightly as she caught her breath. Her jaw dropped, lips moving to form a word, but no sound came out, and her brows furrowed slightly as she did. “Where am I?”

“You’re outside the apartment building, ma’am. There was a fire, but you're fine, it’s all just a  little disorientating.”

Just as you said those words, a loud explosion took off behind you, a rush of glass, dust and smoke racing over everyone, your eyes screwing shut tightly against the blast, and the firemen on the floor rallied once again, a gas main having burst that hadn't been turned off, and Brenda pulled on her own mask and helmet, following Gally back into the building as the flames took up again. 

She was startled, the elderly woman looking around frantically in her panic, and you took her hand, trying to calm her down, worried she may actually worry herself into a panic attack. “It’s okay, the team has it all under control, okay? They’re the very best at their jobs, you’re safe, alright?”

“Where’s that young girl gone?”

“Which young girl, ma’am?” Your brows furrowed, worry seeping into you once again, and before she could answer, there was a name being called out, louder and louder as it neared you both, before a woman who couldn't be any older than thirty appeared, looking completely and utterly frazzled, taking the older woman’s hand from yours. “Are you related to the patient?”

“This is my grandmother.”

“Great, okay, can you fill out a form for me while I do a check over?” You passed her the pen and the paper as she agreed, and she got to work on filling it out, letting you do your job as you lifted the ramp on the back of the ambulance down, unhooking it and securing it to the floor. Carefully as you worked, you secured her down, helping her to lay back in the pillows as you strapped her in, before rolling the trolley up and into the back. Fastening it down tightly, you set about, lifting a pressure cuff from the shelf and placing it along her arm, the beeping on the machine starting steadily as her granddaughter sat along the cushioned seats, still scribbling on the paper. “Ma’am, you said there was someone else with you, can you tell me who?”

“The young girl with the red curls.”

“Where was she?” You questioned, moving her from a portable oxygen tank to the one equipped with the truck, a steadier source of air that she wouldn't have to hold onto. 

“In my apartment. She was right there with me, a-”

“No, nana, nobody else was there.” You turned to look at the auburn-haired woman behind you, raising a questioning brow as she looked at you. “She has dementia, she’s thinking of me. My hair was more of a fiery colour when I was young, and very curly. She’s just confused.”

“No! No, there was a young girl with red hair!”

You nodded, stepping away from the pair for just a moment before reaching the front of the ambulance, wiring it to the right frequency and lifting it from its holder. “Any member of the team, this is the ambo’, is there anyone left inside now?”

“All upper floors are clear, truck is out, we’re working down on a final sweep now.” Thomas’ voice was filled with static as it came over the airwaves, and you gave a small nod to the woman. 

“See, nana? There’s nobody left in there.”

You moved back over, watching as the report you’d found had the exact opposite effect, the woman only seeming to become more on edge and upset, trying to sit up in the stretcher as she took the mask off completely. She coughed, violently at the sudden actions, and as both you and her granddaughter moved to try and lay her back down gently, she pushed your hands away, fighting to get free. 

“She’s in there! I know she is! The girl with the red hair!”

She was on the verge of a panic attack now, and you helped her put the mask back on, her relative taking over with breathing exercises, and the gnawing in your gut just wouldn’t go away. “Which floor does she live on? Which apartment?”

“She lives on the third floor, apartment fifteen.”

You hopped out of the truck, shielding your eyes with one hand as you stared up at the flaming wreckage of the building, asking Newt take over for you, before you were rounding the vehicle to the front once again. “Team, this is the ambo’ again, are you absolutely certain? Floor three, apartment fifteen, I have an elderly woman insisting that someone is inside.”

“I’m on the third floor now, I’m checking.” He left the mic open on his shoulder, just so ensure that you could hear everything that was going on, to reassure the panicking elderly woman you had hyperventilating in the back of the truck. His voice called out, signalling that it was the fire department and asking whether there was anyone left, telling you as he moved, asking four times, and silence coming back with each and every one. “There’s nobody here, I’ve checked, there’s no call out, and the smoke is getting thicker. It’s all clear, okay?”

“All clear, got it.” You clicked the radio off, turning to look at her, and there was a frazzled look in her eyes, shaking her head as she mumbled to herself. 

You’d seen it before, working in medicine did that to you, but it was still shocking every time you witnessed it, watching the fog suddenly clear, even if only for moments, watching the dazed kind of confusion clear on a persons face into something more determined and confident, as though a whole new spirit had taken over the body and mind. “No, it's not.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My nurse, she went to the kitchen, she was getting my medications. Our rota changed a month ago, she comes on Sunday’s instead of Saturday’s now. She’s trapped under the rubble, the roof fell through.” Her words were spoken clearly, no trace of her being lost or under the influence of her past, but instead, for just a few seconds, she was completely present in the moment. 

Hopping down out of the truck, you grabbed at your tatty rucksack, the medkit inside fresh, the good luck charm you carried everywhere, only slung over one shoulder as you made it to the door, Thomas’ figure emerging from inside as he stripped his helmet and mask from over his head. 

“There is someone still inside!”

He turned to look at you, raising a brow, a scowl on his lips. “I cleared the room, I called out, there’s nobody in there. I know how to do my damn job, alright?”

“No, she wouldn’t have replied. The woman’s mind cleared, just for a second, but her nurse is trapped under debris where the roof collapsed in.” He paused for a second, brows furrowing as he tried to process your words, before shaking his head, an incredulous laugh on his lips. 

“You’re taking the word of a woman with dementia?” You nodded, string up at him expectantly. “How do you know she isn’t still confused? Huh?”

You stared at him for a second longer, heart racing in your chest as you thought about the woman who was still trapped inside, before shaking your head at him. “Because I’m a paramedic, Thomas, and I know when her mind clears. I know how to do my job.”

You didn’t give him a chance to retort, shoulder past him and slinging an arm over your face, eyes stinging from the second that you were carried into the building, feet pounding against the floor. Only ten steps in, and the temperature was so hot sweat was lining your brows, your throat was stinging despite the arm you were breathing against, smoke seeping in to burn at your lungs, and tears were lining your eyes as you tried to see where to go. The lobby was glowing a dull orange, but the flames were burning bright, and you winced a little further.

Stairs just ahead of you, still standing string, and you headed straight for them. You almost put your hand down on the railing, flinching at the metal that was almost glowing from the heat it was under, and you snatched it back, skin singed a little just from hovering over it, and you regretted your decision only a little, fear crawling in at the back of your mind to combat the adrenaline, and you quashed it down. 

Only three floors, six sets of stairs, and you were there, fighting your way through a corridor you could barely see, squinting to find the numbers on the door. You were certain you’d found apartment fifteen, sure enough that you’d bet your life on it, and you were, because if you had the wrong one, you certainly didn’t have time to keep looking. 

The room was destroyed, flames crawling up the walls, and the tears in your eyes were now leaking down your cheeks, the air becoming too thick to breathe, and you were running on limited time. You let out a little sigh of relief as you spotted the pile of rubble, assessing it carefully, and catching sight of a hand that wouldn’t be able unless you were looking for such a sign in the right place, dropping to your knees beside it. Your fingertips burned as you touched the hot mess of stone and drywall, pulling it away, your nails ripping with each catch on jagged rocks, and you hissed a little under your breath. You could see her, leaning in close enough to press your fingers to her neck, and you let out something between a relieved laugh and a sigh as you felt a pulse under her skin, albeit incredibly weak. 

A hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you back, before a mask was being dropped down onto you, an oxygen tank beside it. You snatched it up, barley bothering to adjust it before you were pulling it on, taking deep and gasping breaths of the fresh oxygen, the pounding in your head making you squeeze your eyes shut, the rush of fresh O2 in your blood making your head spin and ache for a moment a sit rushed to your brain once again.

Her face was revealed, the fireman beside you having better luck with the debris, gloves making it a burn and pain-free experience, and when there was enough cleared, hands hooked under the woman’s arms, pulling the rest of her body free. Dropping your rucksack, you tore it open, zip running rapidly along its track and you searched for the cloths, a water bottle following it, and you soaked the rag, ringing it out quickly, before laying it over her face. Lifting her up and into his arms, the man waited only a second for you to bundle the oxygen tank and medkit into your arms, following behind him as he began to guide you back out of the building. 

The floors were creaking and giving way, shaking under your feet as you ran after him, down stairs that were beginning to grow weak, the metal bannisters now a bright orange and you flinched away from them, hissing slightly as your jacket brushed against them, zip getting hot just from the brief touch and burning across your hand. 

Hoses at the main entrance, spraying down everything they could reach without entering the collapsing residence once again, and as you stumbled out into the light once again, Newt was already waiting with the stretcher to receive her. She was placed down, dark red curls on her head that had fallen out, blood spilling from a cut along her head and she was matted with dust that almost made her unrecognisable, but she was wearing a distinctive nurses uniform, and pride welled up within you form the second her heart beat on the monitor, Newt fixing a cuff on her arm, before wheeling her to the ambulance again.  

Following after him, you noted that the elderly woman had moved to sitting beside her granddaughter, clearing the stretcher for the nurse, and before you could board the vehicle or help Newt load the stretcher, a large hand was wrapping around your upper arm, jerking you roughly and spinning you to face the one who’s grabbed you. 

Helmet dropping to the floor and mask torn off over his head, you were met with a face that he'd more rage than you’d ever seen him have for you before. His nostrils flared, jaw clenched so tight you worried his teeth would shatter, and his eyes were dark with the kind of anger that genuinely scared you. 

“Are you fucking insane?” You took your own mask off, everything under your arm dropping to the floor, the tank clanging loudly as it hit the pavement, but you didn’t even flinch, staring right back at him. “You are reckless, that was so stupid, you have no concern for the other lives you just put at risk!”

“We just saved a life!”

“And what if we hadn't, huh? What if you ran in there, and I had to follow you, and two people died, instead?” He made a valid point, but he was failing to see the fact that you’d save a person’s life, someone who must’ve fallen unconscious from smoke inhalation, trapped under rubble and thinking they were going to die, and they were saved. “You have no regard for the rest of the damn team, yo-”

“You just saved a life, Thomas.” His jaw snapped shut, confusion stitched into the anger on his face as he stared at you, head tipping to the side just a little, gaze never leaving yours as he continued to tower over you, shadowing you from the building, shoulders rising and falling quickly as his chest heaved for breath, adrenaline stile acing through him. “She thought she’d been left behind, and that she’d die. You just saved her. She gets to live because of you.”

He was breathless, everything seeming to halt for a long second, before he was taking in a shaky breath, letting it go as a long sigh, and his shoulders slumped a little as he did his best to quell his rage. Your heart was racing in your chest, and his head ducked down, for a moment, maybe two, before he was looking back up. 

“Maybe you should think about that the next time you want to act like a dick, for no reason.”

You heard a sigh behind you, knowing Newt had been waiting with bated breath for the calling of a truce between you both, but you didn’t back down easy, you didn’t cave just because a big and tall man got angry, and Thomas looked angry once again. “It was selfish. Even if you don’t care about the rest of us, you almost killed yourself.”

“I thought this was a team, if me taking a risk is such a burden to you, don’t follow me next time.”

Shoving the mask into his chest, he barely had time to grab it, before you swiping down to scoop up your bag, and turning your back on him to meet Newt. He gave you a look, shaking his head slightly, and you could read it perfectly, knowing that it had been the perfect chance to try and patch things up with Thomas, but you didn’t regret your actions because the woman who was still unconscious with a steadily rising heartbeat beside you was alive thanks to you, and so as he took a seat in the front and started up the vehicle for the hospital, you took over caring for her, and pushed it all away. 

Maybe it had been selfish, and maybe everyone else would see it the same way Thomas did, but it was clear this wasn’t going to be your permanent home anyway, and so it made it a little harder to choke back the anxiety as you realised you wouldn't have to deal with it for much longer anyway. As soon as a new transfer came up, you’d be recommended for it, you were sure.

It was silent for a long time, all the way to the hospital, the tension in the vehicle thick as you knew Newt was mad at you, the radio having been suspiciously quiet, and on the return from calls, it was normally buzzing between all trucks and vans with chatter and congratulations, but you had no doubt that due to your actions, it had gone silent. 

You checked in the elderly woman, who’s mind had slipped away from you once again, and the nurse, who was in and out of surfacing, the doctors taking over as the two of you were left alone, and Newt wandered away toward the vending machines. You made you way back to the truck, the pains and aches of the day beginning to set in, and you realised he’d taken the keys with him, leaving you to lean against it. Placing your bag on the hood, you pulled out a disinfectant wipe, using your teeth to tear it open, wiping the blood from torn nails and wincing a little at the skin, before trying to wipe your face and arms down too. 

You had acquired a lot more subtle grazes and burns than you’d realised, but each spit flared up in pain when the wipes moved over them, making sure you wouldn’t get an infection, and it was as you were applying burn cream in the reflection of the window that Newt finally approached you again. 

Turning to face him, his lips were set in a thin line, and you frowned, knowing just how much you had disappointed him, but still trying to be strong, swallowing thickly on a dry throat and putting the cream away, zipping up your pack and barging it onto your shoulder, turning to face him for the verbal beat down. 

“You scared the hell out of me, y’know.” You sighed, arms wrapping around yourself a little, because when someone was shouting at you, you could hand that, but the puppy-dog eyes he was fixing you with now and the wounded tone of his voice was a crippling attack. “Didn’t expect to see my partner running into a burning building alone.”

“There was someone in there and I know you’re mad at me, bu-”

“I think you did the right thing.” It was your turn to be speechless, caught off-guard by him agreeing with you, and he chuckled a little at the startled look on your face. “I agree with you, alright? It’s just terrifying. I know Thomas isn’t easy to get along with, you shoulda’ seen the rivalry he and Gally had for years, but forgive him for getting mad, alright? He’s got a big heart, but he’s been hurt a lot, and he locks it up pretty tight. He cares about his team.”

“I don’t think that curtesy extends as far as me.”

“Just give him a chance, he’ll come around.” Newt offered you a water bottle, and a candy bar, both from the vending machine in the hospital halls, and you unscrewed the lid, his eyes on you in a scrutinising manner as he watched you take a sip instead of replying, and you didn’t like that look, somehow feeling like he was staring right into your soul. “You’re going to transfer out again, aren’t you?”

“We both know I don’t fit in here, Newt.”

“Bullshit!” You now knew what real anger looked like on your blonde colleagues face, the look flashing over his features as fast as lightning, and you tore your gaze away, busying yourself with your drink. 

“Another transfer will come up in a few weeks, and we both know that Thomas won’t hesitate to sign the forms to get me gone.”

“One year.” You frowned, turning to look at him, your face painted with puzzlement, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You want the harsh truth?”

“Not rea-”

“You skip between houses without ever giving them a chance. Maybe some bad shit happened, maybe you just don’t fit in, but you’re not trying hard enough. Plant some roots, because I happen to think that if you just give us a chance, you’ll be a perfect fit for us.” You huffed out, lips rolling as you contained what you wanted to say, not used to someone speaking to you with such a crass attitude. “Give it a year, stick around here for a year, and if you still don’t think you belong here, then I’ll write you a personal letter of recommendation myself, and I’ll get both Thomas and Gally to sign it.”

“I’ve been at other houses longer than that and still not found my home, Newt.”

“You’ve never found us before.” Silence took over between you both, and he licked at his lower lip, glancing away from you for a second, eyes flickering over the car park, before looking back. “I like you, I think we make good partners, I want you to stick around. I think you should give us a go, even if it is awkward for a while. Just brave it through, for once. I think you’re running away from houses and refusing to settle because you’re scared, not because you can’t.”

Your breathing hitched in your throat, and you sighed, shaking your head at him, words coming out as a whisper; “That was mean.”

“Yeah, well, it was the truth and you needed or hear it. What are friends for?”

You glanced up, fiddling a little with the snack you held, the plastic crinkling, anything to break the tense silence “You’re my friend, then?”

“Of course, I am.” He cracked a grin at this, nodding his head, and stepping in close enough to nudge you, with a roll of his eyes. “Now, get in the truck, eat your cereal bar, and think about what I said. We have the team to get back to.”

[alyasgf]

Truth Or Dare Confessions Adrinette April Day 11- Truth or Dare

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Summary-

Adrien and Marinette reveal a bit too much during a game of truth or dare

Notes-

Late day 11 but I’ll catch up eventually! Hope you like it :)

Word Count-

1734

AO3

Begin

“Alya I can’t do this!” Marinette whined as they walked to the brunette’s house.

“It’s just for a couple hours you’ll survive. It’s not everyday we get out whole block early and I want to talk advantage of it.” Alya replied with a smile.

M. Mendeleiev had caught a cold and had been told to go home, lest she get the children sick. No one could find a substitute on such short notice, so the kids were sent home early.

“But Adrien will be there! I won’t be able to speak coherently for hours.” Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm so that she’d stop and look into her eyes.

“Well Adrien is asking his dad right now, so who knows maybe he won’t go.” Alya said, trying to calm her friend down.

“But I obviously want him to go. Ugh this is so confusing!” Marinette dropped the girl’s arm and continued walking, now with her hands rubbing her temples. “Why can’t I just act normal around him instead of just turning to jelly?”

“You just have to try to see him as a normal person Marinette. Not as a famous model, not as your pretty boy crush, but as a totally normal guy who you just happen to be attracted to. Can you do that?” Alya chuckled as she said this.

“Maybe? I’ll try, but if it doesn’t work please stop me before I embarrass myself. Put your hand over my mouth if you have to. Once I start talking to him everything just spills out no matter how badly I’d like it to stop.” Marinette said sheepishly.

“Will do.” Just then Alya’s phone chimed. “Good news Marinette. Or bad news depending how you look at it.” Alya began while typing on her phone. “Nino just texted and it looks like your boy gets to hang out with us today!”

Marinette let out a squeak in reply.

—————————

“Get this! His old man said since his fencing teacher got a cold he could stay until 4. How awesome is that?” Nino told them as they walked in.

“Uh thats great! I- I mean we, can’t wait to spend 3 whole hours with you.” Marinette managed to get out.

‘Just a normal guy.’ Marinette repeated in her head on repeat as they set their bags down. Still she could feel her heart race as she looked at him.

“Me either, I never get to spend that long hanging out with friends outside of school.” Adrien had an adorable smile on his face and Marinette’s whole body heated up when she saw just how happy he looked.

“Well let’s make the most of it!” Alya said with a suspicious smile. “I propose a game for us all to get to know each other’s deepest secrets! Or at least do something stupid instead. Truth or dare!”

Marinette reddened, Adrien adopted a confused look, and Nino cheered.

“Not to be a downer but I’ve never actually played before.” Adrien said as he rested is arm on the counter, which bumped Marinette’s slightly and she jumped away as though she had been touched with a burning hot coal.

“Maybe we should play something else!” She proposed attempting to save herself from embarrassment. “You have plenty of board games that could be fun.”

“No Marinette I think this game is perfect. Any other game would take too long to explain and we’re running short on time. It’s ok that you haven’t played before Adrien, it’s pretty straightforward.” Alya’s smile grew.

They all migrated to Alya’s room and she directed them to sit in a circle on the floor. She somehow managed to make sure Adrien sat directly across from Marinette.

Marinette attempted to look anywhere that wasn’t in front of her, in fear of accidentally making eye contact. ‘Normal guy, normal guy, normal guy.’ She repeated.

“So how exactly does this game work?” Adrien asked curiously while turning to Nino.

“Well like Alya said it’s simple. We take turns going around in the circle. You can ask anyone to choose a truth or dare. After they decide you either ask them a question or give them a date.” Nino answered.

“What’s the protocol if someone doesn’t want to answer the question or do the dare?” Marinette asked, hoping she could still find a way out of this.

“Then you’re at the mercy of doing the opposite choice with no opting out.” Alya interjected quickly. “Now should we begin?”

If Marinette could chose, she’d say no. But unfortunately there was no backing out, not when Adrien was involved.

———————————

They went around once and found out some interesting things.

Alya confessed she couldn’t sleep without a light on, Nino dared Marinette to do a round off (she did so perfectly and looking at Adrien’s face he seem surprised), Adrien tried (and failed) to to whistle, and Nino had a secret obsession with the 1975.

Now it was Nino’s turn to ask a question.

“Adrien, truth or dare?”

“Truth.” He answered, since his last dare seemed to have embarrassed him.

Nino exchanged a quick look with Alya before replaying to Adrien.

“Who’s your crush?”

Marinette and Adrien both reddened instantly.

Marinette expected him to say Kagami, but his answer surprised her.

“Ladybug.” He said and turned even more red, if that was possible.

Marinette’s eyes bulged. Alya and Nino seemed surprised as well.

“Dude? I meant like attainable. Everyone has a crush on Ladybug.” Nino laughed.

“Everyone is a strong word.” Marinette said nervously.

“No I agree with Nino on this one.” Alya added in. “Nino already knows that if I had the chance I would absolutely kiss Ladybug.”

Marinette and Adrien looked just about the same and were all for moving on.

“Adrien! It’s your turn!” Marinette blurted out, hoping no one would see how flustered she was, and if they did, blamed it on Adrien’s presence.

Thankfully they didn’t notice.

Next Alya had to take a shot of hot sauce, courtesy of Adrien Agreste.

“Next ones a general one.” Alya said, earning shouts of protest. “I can do it because I proposed the game.”

Marinette’s mind was still reeling from the knowledge that Adrien had a crush on her superhero form so she was paying attention enough to protest.

“Who were you guy’s first kiss?” She asked.

This brought Marinette back into the present. She hoped no one noticed how red she still was.

“Can we chose a dare for this one?” She looked away from Alya’s prying eyes. As far as Alya knew she’d never had her first kiss.

“No, especially not you. Who was it and why didn’t you tell me?” Her journalist side came out almost instantly.

“Nino! Who was yours?” Marinette said turning to the boy.

“Alix in grade 3.”

Alya gasped. “I thought I was your first kiss!”

“I never said you were.” He said defensively while laughing.

“Well you were mine.” She grumbled.

Next, Nino turned to Adrien pointedly.

“Does it count if you can’t remember it?” He asked and everyone looked puzzled.

“Why wouldn’t you remember it?” Marinette surprised herself by asking.

“Well,” he began, his right arm rubbing the back of his neck. “It was during an akuma attack. I’m just told it happened.”

“Dude, who was it?” Nino pressed, everyone just as interested.

“Ladybug?” He said it almost like a question.

Marinette’s heart stopped. She would’ve remembered kissing him. There was no way she wouldn’t. She had only lost her memory from an akuma once, and she had spent that entire time with Chat. Surely he was lying. But Adrien wouldn’t do that. Her mind was spinning.

“No way!” Alya’s voice startled her. “Is that why you have a crush on her?”

Adrien just shrugged, still insanely red.

Marinette still sat quiet and thinking as Nino and Alya tried to get more out of him, but he gave nothing away.

“Marinette, you’ve been strangely quiet. Don’t think I forgot.” Alya turned to her with a determined look in her eye.

Marinette decided what to do just then. The only person she ever kissed was Chat. Adrien claimed he kissed Ladybug. Adrien doesn’t lie.

His reaction would say everything.

“If I answer no one is allowed to ask any questions.” She waited for everyone to nod. “My first kiss was with Chat Nior.”

Adrien burst into a coughing fit. Marinette smirked.

“Adrien, is everything ok?” She asked, suspicions confirmed.

He said nothing, instead putting a finger up so he could catch his breathe.

Meanwhile Alya and Nino had exploded beside her.

“No fair! You guys get to kiss superhero’s?” Nino pouted.

“Could I please get some context? From either of you?” Alya asked desperately.

“Nope.” Marinette replied popping her p. “Everyone agreed and that’s all I’m saying.”

Adrien didn’t meet her eye for the rest of the time, although Marinette used her newfound confidence to make cat puns for the rest of the time. Needless to say he was bright red. It was nice for him to be the stuttering mess for a change.

When it was time to go, Adrien received a call that his ride was outside.

“Marinette, Nino’s going to stay a bit longer. Would you mind walking Adrien out?” Alya asked and was surprised when Marinette agreed immediately and with no stuttering.

“I’d love to Alya. C’mon Adrien.” Marinette turned to him with a smirk.

Adrien stuttered out a quick goodbye and Marinette took his hand to pull him out, making a point to not let go.

“So Marinette,” Adrien began and Marinette already knew where it was going. “I know you said not to ask, but when did you kiss Chat Noir?” Adrien looked away, trying not to look to interested.

“It was on Valentines Day actually. He’s not too bad of a kisser either.” Adrien turned bright red. “In fact I even got to kiss him again during the Oblivio akuma attack, but I don’t remember that one. Much like your Ladybug kiss huh?”

Adrien’s eyes bulged out. “Sorry what?”

Just then they reached the end of the sidewalk.

“It was nice hanging out with you Adrien! Cat-ch you later.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked off. She snuck a glance behind her and saw him standing there dumbfounded.

When she got home, she transformed to see she had over 50 messages from Chat Noir himself.

Maybe Adrien wasn’t just a normal pretty boy after all.

@adrinetteapril

[amtwst-tls]

Scary outfit Jade Personal Story Translation Part 2

Jade Scary Outfit Part 2

Would you please teach me?

Where the 2nd years all talk about the Halloween traditions back at their places.

Classroom

Jade: Would you mind teaching me about the many different ways you all celebrate Halloween?

Riddle: ...Halloween, huh.

Riddle: In my hometown, typically young children would gather in the plaza and hold a 'Fun Party.'

Jamil: Why do you sound so detached?

Riddle: That's because I've only ever attended it once. So I can't speak much about it.

Riddle: The one thing that left an impression on me was the 'Apple Bobbing.'

Floyd: Goldfish-chan, what's that...Apple....whatchamacallit? That sure sounds real tasty~

Riddle: It's a traditional game that is played in the Rose Kingdom.

Riddle: You fill a large tub with water, and some apples will be tossed in, floating on the surface, which you have to try and catch with your mouth. Of course, you can't use your hands for this.

Jade: That... certainly sounds like a game to be played on the surface.

Azul: Indeed, the moment one lets go of the apple under the sea, it would immediately try to rise to the surface.

Jade: I suppose chasing after the apple could be a game in itself.

Floyd: That actually sounds real interestin'~

Silver: However... is it even possible to catch an apple with one's mouth?

Riddle: They normally use smaller apples rather than the regular ones... but even then it can be difficult.

Jade: Children with bigger physique would have the better advantage in trying to capture the apple in their mouth.

Riddle: Certainly, one would need good jaw strength to match the size of their mouth as well.

Ruggie: In this school, Jade and Floyd definitely have the advantage here.

Ruggie: They're dang huge. With sharp teeth to boot.

Jade: Fufufu, I wonder about that. I would be too shy to open my mouth so wide with people staring at me...

Jade: And I just may not be able to catch the apple in time while bumbling around...

Floyd: I mean, how do ya even decide on who wins in this kinda game?

Riddle: According to our rules, I think the one who manages to catch an apple the quickest would be considered the winner.

Riddle: There are regions in the Land of Pyroxene that play this game as well.

Riddle: Cater said that in his hometown, the winner was decided by who got the most number of apples.

Riddle: I was never able to grasp the technique, and would end up drenched from head to toe...

Riddle: Thinking back on it now though, I suppose the result was never the important part.

Riddle: Having fun, laughing at each other as we all struggle to catch that apple... I think such joys are important.

Jade: Certainly, to be able to see Riddle-san desperately chasing after an apple with his mouth wide open would be quite amus-

Jade: -I mean, would be worth seeing, yes.

Riddle: Just what were you trying to imply...

Kalim: I get what you were trying to say Riddle! It's not about winning or losing, it's all about whether you had fun or not!

Riddle: Yes... that's right.

Kalim: It's kinda different from the Rose Kingdom, the Halloween over at our Land of Hot Sands is real fun too!

Jade: Oh? Does the Land of Hot Sands have it's own peculiar recreational activity as well?

Kalim: Nope! When you say Halloween in the Land of Hot Sands, we mean 'Feast'!

Kalim: That's because in our homeland, to spend time together as we enjoy a splendid feast is what we consider to be the most fun!

Kalim: That's why, when Halloween comes around, the tables are almost overflowing with all kinds of delicacies!

Jamil: We do this so the ghosts that come back can also eat to their heart's content.

Jamil: Sweet, salty spicy... from small appetizers to large platters, we prepare a wide variety of dishes.

Jamil: When Halloween is close, the kitchens are always on full overdrive from the meal prepping alone.

Jade: Someday I would love to feast my eyes on such a sumptuous dining table myself... Are there any staple dishes for the tradition?

Kalim: The star of the Halloween Feast... it's definitely gotta be that dish.

Kalim: What was it again? That dish we bake with vegetables and sauce...

Jamil: Who knows?

Kalim: Ah, your face tells me you know it. C'mon, it's that one! The one with potatoes, eggplants and tomatoes!!

Jade: Is it something like... a lasagna that had the pasta replaced with vegetables instead?

Kalim: Ahh that's actually pretty close to it. It's super delicious when freshly baked.

Azul: I see, it certainly sounds like a dish that would be popular with people who prefer a healthy diet.

Jade: Jamil-san, would you mind telling us the name of the dish?

Jamil: Ha... It's a local specialty called 'Moussaka.'

Kalim: Yeah that! That's the one!

Kalim: When we were younger, even if there was no banquet or feast going on, I'd still ask Jamil to cook it for me time to time!

Jamil: It was quite the mess back then... my parents, and even the other servants would always scold me, telling me that children shouldn't handle fire by themselves.

Kalim: Eh!? That happened??

Jamil: We were still in elementary school after all.

Jamil: It's not like I was already great at cooking from that age... It would've been a big problem if I accidentally set a fire.

Jamil: I can now understand why my parents and the people around me used to get angry whenever I tried.

Kalim: Oof... I'm really sorry about that.

Kalim: But the moussaka you cooked back then was also super delicious! I can still remember the taste...

Kalim: Talking about it got me hankering for it again. Jamil, you gotta make it for me soon!

Azul: I would like to request it as well. It may be a good addition to the Mostro Lounge menu....

Jamil: No.

Kalim: Aww, don't say that Jamil~

Jamil: Moussaka is a very time-consuming dish that needs a lot of ingredients to make, it even needs two kinds of sauces to be prepared for it

Jamil: I don't believe such a dish is a good fit for a cafe.

Jade: From the sounds of it, it seems to be a dish that requires an oven to bake it.

Jade: The oven back at the Lounge isn't quite big... it would be quite difficult to bake enough of it.

Azul: I'm sure there are a number of ways to increase the turnover rate if you cook it all in one big platter.

Ruggie: Octanivelle's the same as ever.

Jade: Fufu... I suppose we can have a nice, long discussion about this once I have tried Jamil's cooking myself.

Jamil: Wait, I never said that I would make it- ...sigh...

Silver: *snore*

Jamil: See, you've bored Silver to sleep while you were hyped up about making profits.

Jade: Oh my, this won't do. My apologies for derailing the conversation.

Jade: Excuse me for a moment, Silver-san, Would you please wake up?

Silver: ...ha! I apologize. You want to know the traditions of Halloween at the Valley of Thorns, was it.

Jade: Yes, if you would please.

Silver: Halloween... all I can remember is my fath- I mean, Lilia-senpai going all out on dressing up for the occasion.

Riddle: As I recall, both of you are from the same province.

Jade: I see, so even the people from the Valley of Thorns would have costumes... It seems to be a standard custom no matter where you are from on the surface.

Silver: Do merfolk not have costumes?

Jade: We do not have a habit of wearing clothes in the first place.

Jade: But it is precisely because of that fact that I find wearing the many different kind of clothes from the surface quite interesting. Silver: As a matter of fact, it is quite difficult to say that dressing up was a fun memory... I shudder even now when I recall it.

Floyd: Ehh~ Wasn't pancake devilfish-chan even smaller back then?

Silver: Oh, there is not much of a change in terms of appearance, however...

Silver: It was the one and only Halloween that I had seen Lilia-senpai in such a fearsome visage....

Jade: My, that does sound very curious indeed, since he prides himself on being quite cute, and it's hard to disagree.

Silver: Lilia-senpai's threatening demeanor when dressed up like that...

Silver: Sebek who had witnessed the horror with me was also trembling in fear...

Silver: The two of us were so afraid to fall asleep that we promised to stay up all night together.

Jade: Oh my, if I were to be exposed to such horror, I would surely let out a loud scream myself...

Floyd: Ehh~ What the heck, I wanna see that too~ We've been together since the day we were born and I haven't got 'ta see that even once!

Ruggie: So~? Did you both end up greetin' the dawn with tears?

Silver: No, I ended up falling asleep at some point.

Riddle: As I thought...

Silver: Apparently, Sebek had to hold off on going to the toilet the whole night, so the next morning he was angry at me and called me a traitor.

Ruggie: Wow~ Even Sebek had such a cute side to him huh.

Jamil: Well then Ruggie, how is Halloween over at your place?

Ruggie: Me? I don't think our Halloween over at the slums would make much of a reference for ya.

Jade: Now now, I find any and every aspect of culture on the surface to be interesting, so please do enlighten me.

Ruggie: Well, I don't mind tellin' ya, but don't go gettin' all weirded out after hearin' it...

Ruggie: "Trick or Treat" is where ya get pranked if ye don't hand out the candy yeah?

Ruggie: But back at my place, it ain't anythin' as cute as that.

Ruggie: If candy isn't handed over, you'd be marked until ye do... it's a 24 hour candy collectin' endurance event! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Wow that was long, really long, I almost died but I did it for y’all ;-; Note: Jamil and Kalim actually call the dish “Munazzara” but I believe that is another term for ‘Moussaka’ in jpn, I changed it so it’s easier to place. Part 1 Part 3

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Difference

Companion Piece to The Pool  | Masterlist

Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Mature (no explicit sexual content) Warnings: Fluff, cursing, sexual innuendo, canon-typical sexism, alcohol, cigarette smoking... I think that’s it? Notes: Uh... I love this man? Summary: The pools haven’t stopped, but now Borracho’s involved, too. 

The dynamic in the office doesn’t change. I mean, sure, the guys know that you and Borracho are together, but you expected to take way more teasing about it. If they get on Borracho’s case about you when you’re not around, he doesn’t tell you. But when you’re at work, you’re at work. The two of you aren’t affectionate there, you don’t make it a point to take your breaks at the same time or grab lunch together. Things are as they were. Where the teasing does creep in is when you all have downtime - when you’re grabbing a drink as a team. The pools haven’t stopped, either, but now Borracho’s involved, too. Henderson’ll bate him with, “Nah, but I bet Borracho doesn’t even know his girl’s birthday,” (He does). Connors’ll tack on, “A pitcher says Tech can’t tell us where he got his nickname from,” (You can). And Zapata? “Tech’s favorite topping, for all the marbles?” (It’s hot sauce, but you bat your eyes and coo, “Borracho,” and the guys groan and make gagging noises as Borracho throws his head back and laughs).

“Man, tell your girlfriend to behave herself,” Henderson scoffs. They say shit like that a lot. It irks you, and Borracho knows that. If he were anyone else he might lean into it, but he doesn’t. “She’s got herself handled, Henderson,” Is his answer that time. Another, when you’re kicking Connors’ ass at pool, Connors looks to Borracho as he comes over and says, “Dude, tell your girlfriend that hustling people is fuckin’ rude.” “He’s just being a sore loser,” You justify to Borracho, even as you stare Connors down. Borracho’s hand settles on your lower back and he leans in, pecking your cheek and murmuring, “Fuck it up, sweetheart.” 

--

The Magalons aren't like your family. You grew up in a much more formal household - you only saw aunts and uncles once every couple of months, and you knew at least a week in advance that you'd be going by, or that they'd be coming over. 

But the Magalons? They have an open door policy that astounds you. And once you and Borracho are dating, it extends to you, too - his mother and sisters make sure that you know it, tell you that you can drop by any time, with or without Borracho. The prospect is daunting at first. You don't want to offend them, but you just don't... Quite know how to do that. Borracho is gentle as he waves off your worry.

"They like you, sweetness. They just wanna get to know you a bit better, is all," He murmurs, "Stopping by doesn't have to be a big thing, stay for a cup of coffee and then say you have to run errands-- but don't stress yourself out about it."

His thumb smooths over the wrinkle in your brow before he leans down and pecks your lips. 

You try not to let it stress you out, really. That first visit to his mom's house is a little awkward for all of you - Isobel and Nadia are there with their kids, and you still don't know one another very well - but you're trying, and by the end of it, you get a hug from them. One of Isobel's daughters even asks you when you're coming back. You don't have to mention it to Borracho when you see him. Apparently your drop-in made the family group chat - there's a picture of you having a tea party with two of his nieces. 

"Maybe I should get you your own tiara and tutu," He teases, and you roll your eyes. 

It isn't always that smooth, of course. Sometimes you have plans to go over and see them and you get called into work on short notice. You feel awful when that happens, but they understand - they've been dealing with it with Borracho for years.

They don’t mind you being touchy with him, either. That throws you. You’re touchy with Borracho when it’s just the two of you alone at one of your apartments, but when you’re around the family, at first, you just a little skittish when Borracho starts getting affectionate. Your family was like that, too - just, very concerned with propriety and appearances around everyone else. Borracho tells you that no one cares, tries to coax you into giving him more than just a peck when the two of you are able to spend an afternoon with his family. It’s Megan, Borracho’s oldest sister, that finally kinda convinces you that it’s fine. It’s not anything she says, it’s just the way that she is - you see her cozying up with her new boyfriend, and it warms you. You relax after that, slowly. Giving Borracho a few kisses, teasingly slapping his ass when you pass him in the kitchen. It’s not salacious, it’s just… Comfortable. You’re not even offended when Isobel tells you later that she’s glad you’ve finally ‘chilled out’, cause you kinda have. Later, when you’re sitting on Borracho’s knee and leaning against his chest, he turns his head and noses along your neck, and murmurs, “You know I love you, right?” You look down at him as he leans away and you nod, brow furrowing a little. “Of course I know,” You say quietly, “I love you, too.” He nods, murmurs, “I know,” And smiles up at you. He leans up for a kiss, and instead of tensing up and leaning away like you might’ve a few weeks ago, you give it to him, and then another, and then another. -- You don’t talk about marriage at first - it just hasn’t come up. You know that he married his high school sweetheart, but they were only together a couple of years before they divorced (all of the guys on the team have been married and divorced at least once). His sister Nadia tells you, too (“Just in case -- Look I love my brother and all, but sometimes guys don’t tell you everything they’re supposed to, you know?”). And you appreciate that, of course, but you’re not worried about it. The two of you are fine the way you are. 

It’s Borracho that brings it up. Megan gets engaged to her boyfriend - fast, I’m talking six months in. You’re happy for them, though. Sure, it seems a little rushed to you, but who are you to judge, and they seem really happy. The night after the engagement party, as the two of you lay in bed, Borracho murmurs, “You ever think about it?” “What?” You’re half-asleep; the last thing the two of you were talking about was whether or not Connors wears a baseball cap all the time ‘cause he’s getting a bald spot. Borracho doesn’t say it. He takes hold of your left hand and lightly runs his thumb over your ring finger. You tip your head up to blink blearily at him in the dark. You don’t need to ask where the question’s come from, but it’s just caught you so off guard. “... I’ve thought about it,” You’re afraid to say it too loudly, in case he’s putting you on. He intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes your hand gently. “What have you thought?” You shrug. “I don’t know… Just the-- The idea of it, I guess.” “To me?” “No, to Henderson-- Yes, to you.” “Thank god you clarified, I was afraid I was gonna be stuck in line behind Henderson.” You flick Borracho’s chest before resting your head back down on his shoulder. “We’d never last. He wouldn’t buy me the right kind of hot sauce.” “That’s the only reason?” Borracho laughs. “Well, I’m also kinda in love with you. It would put a damper on the marriage.” “I’d make a great second husband.”

“You’d make a great first one.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and even though the two of you have been teasing, you’re worried Borracho’s going to really laugh at you. He doesn’t, though. He won’t - you’re too dear to him and he’s too good, he wouldn’t do this to you as a joke. “I didn’t the first time around,” He admits, “We were young and I was pretty stupid.” You’re surprised he’s talking about it. So far the conversations around his ex-wife have just been that he has one. You’re quiet as Borracho tells you about her, about them; you’re not jealous, you’re comforted, actually. He’s trusting you with this. “...Have you ever wanted to marry anyone you’ve been with?” He asks after he’s gone quiet about her. You shake your head a little bit. He perks up at that, and you can practically hear how his brows have risen as he presses, “Really?” “Why’s that so surprising?” “What changed?” You’re quiet for a few moments, looking down through the dim light of the room at where your hands are still intertwined. “I couldn’t see a future with them.” And then his hand is cupping the back of your neck to tip your head up, and his lips are sliding over yours in what you’re sure is the softest kiss this man has ever given you. He lifts your joined hands to rest over his heart, and you ache with loving him. -- “You need to come get your man.” Well that’s a new one. You’ve had the day off, and you knew that the guys were going to grab drinks after their shift, but you didn’t expect a call like this from Henderson. “Big night?” You ask dryly. Borracho grunts, taking one long, final drag from his cigarette as he gets into the passenger seat of your car. “Big night,” He mumbles, flicking the cigarette out of the window, adding, “Sorry.” “It’s okay, baby,” You chuckle as he does up his seat belt. He leans over for a kiss, sliding a hand between your thighs. You smile into it. “Someone’s in a mood,” You tease. “I’m always in a mood when it comes to you,” He mumbles, kissing your neck. You huff, squeezing your thighs shut to stop his hand from moving. “Wait ‘til we get home, baby.” “Do we have to?” “I’m not getting pulled over because you’re horned up.” “No fun,” Borracho grumbles, settling back in his seat and tipping his head back against the headrest. 

--

“Big night?” You tease as Borracho crowds up behind you at your kitchen counter. His arms loop around your waist and he presses his face into your neck.

“Stop yelling at me,” He mumbles. You giggle, unable to help it.

“Wow, someone really did it up, huh.”

He hums.

“Coffee? Or I’ve got room-temperature gatorade and white rice.”

“God I love you.”

--

You don’t find out just how big of a night out Borracho had until about two hours later, when his phone buzzes. The two of you have been settled on the couch with the tv volume turned way down, zoning out to Breaking Bad reruns. He reads the text, and he groans.

“What is it?” You ask.

“...You’re gonna find out, anyway,” He mumbles and passes you his phone. It’s a text from Nick, Checked public records - no wedding certificate for Borracho and Tech. Henderson and Connors, pay up.

Your brow furrows, and you hand the phone back.

“Explain?”

“I may’ve had a... slip of the tongue last night.”

He’s suddenly very interested in the tv. You’re stunned for a few seconds.

“We were talking about that stuff the other night, it was on my mind… I was drinking…” He adds.

“And they thought we’d eloped and neglected to tell them?”

“And put money on it.”

“Classic,” You sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions.

“...Would you want to elope?” He doesn’t look at you as he asks.

“Your sisters would kill us.”

“True.”

The two of you watch tv for a few more minutes in silence.

“Did you realize, or--”

Borracho shakes his head, “Henderson caught it.”

“So do I have to ask Henderson for what you said?”

“I said, ‘shit, it’s getting late, I should text my wife’.”

You’re grinning, and you think you feel a little lightheaded, but in the good way.

“You switched to water after that, huh,” You tease.

“Bet your cute ass I did.” 

[a-cupof-jo]

Set Up My Heart Pt. 1

Introduction - Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing.

~~

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” you blinked back the tears pressing at your eyes. The small screen in your hand showed you the most recent score of your chemistry exam. “I can’t believe this.” Tears finally fell as you looked up at the sky. “I spent hours studying. How did I still only get 63%?”

You ducked your head as you saw students start to exit the classroom across from you. The walk back to your apartment never felt so long. You couldn’t make it to your bedroom before sobs cracked through the silence. The pillows on the couch muffled your cries as you face planted. “Y/n? Is that you?” You looked up to see your dark curly haired roommate staring down at you.

“Y/n is gone all that’s left is an empty, pathetic shell,” you wailed.

She sat on the couch beside you. Her hand rubbed up and down your back, “Oh honey, what happened?”

“I’m a failure! I’m never gonna get my grade back up meaning my GPA is going to tank and then I won’t be able to get a job after college.” You cried, “I am going to live the rest of my life with crippling student loans and no way to pay them off!”

“Y/n, what are you talking about.”

“I failed my chemistry exam!“ You buried your face in the pillow, "Desiree, what am I supposed to do?”

Desiree sighed and stood up from the couch, “I know that this feels like the end of the world for you, but you still have time to get your grade up. Go to open hours and to tutoring sessions the chemistry department holds on Sunday evening. This did not make or break your grade.”

You groaned, “Why do you have to be so logical? Let me wallow.”

“You asked me for my opinion. I gave it,” She swatted your butt before moving out of the living room. “Now get your ass up and help me make dinner.”

The kitchen was small- only taking up space on a wall- but you were able to make it work. You had cut up the chicken while Desiree worked on making a teriyaki sauce. Soft RandB music drifted through the room as the two of you worked quickly. The chicken sizzled as you dropped it into the pan on the stove, “How are your classes?” you turned to Desiree whisking together ingredients.

She shrugged as she poured the mixture onto the cooking chicken, “They’re fine. I’ve got a couple of group assignments coming up, but they shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Your economics teacher is still being weird?”

She huffed a laugh as she poured the sauce in the pan, “I just don’t get why he has to call us ‘embryo economists’. I can’t be the only one who is disturbed by that.”

“You’re definitely not.”

You looked at the living room as you heard the front door open and then close, “Hey guys, what smells so good!” Chohee yelled as she entered the living room.

“It’s the chicken,” Desiree motioned to the chicken she was removing from the pan. “I just have to cook the broccoli and cauliflower then we can eat.”

“Great, I’m starving!” Chohee grabbed plates and forks as she moved towards the dining area. “Did you guys see that there’s a new tenant moving in?”

“There is?” You asked as you opened the living room’s window blind. “I don’t see anybody.”

“Yeah! He is moving in down the hall.” she slid in next to you and pointed to a shadow. “It looked like he was moving in with that one guy? The baseball player?”

You shook your head not knowing who she was talking about.

“Who’s moving in,” Desiree set the food on the dining table.

You both turned to sit down. “Some new guy. He’s moving in with the school’s baseball team pitcher.”

“Oh,” Desiree smiled. “You mean Jaehyun?”

“Yeah!” Chohee scooped up some vegetables. “You know him?”

Desiree shrugged, “More like know of him. I’ve never actually met him even though he’s lived down the hall from us for two school years.”

“How do you know he’s lived here for that long?” Chohee asked between bites of chicken.

You turned towards the window to see a shadow pass in front of it, “Wait, that might be him!” You shot forward and pulled the blind up in time to see a tall man turn into a doorway. “I didn’t get a look at his face.” You looked as your roommates’ faces fell.

Desiree sighed, “That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll see him around.”

“I don’t know,” Chohee returned to eating. “I mean, we never saw his assumed roommate Jaehyun in the time we’ve been here.”

“You mean you haven’t,” Desiree corrected. You zoned out their conversation as you returned to eating. Something wasn’t sitting right. Even though you never saw his face, he seemed familiar to you. “Y/N? Y/N.” Desiree waved her hand in front of you. You turned to her with a questioning look. “What do you say? Gonna help us take over something to welcome the new guy?”

You shrug, “Probably not, I have to try and fix my Chemistry grade.”

“Oh,” Chohee scoffed. “I know it’s important to you, but taking something over to them won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

Chohee’s face lit up, “Great! We’ll do it tomorrow after classes are over.” You watched as her and Desiree planned out the next day. You had a feeling things were not going to go as planned.

~~

“It’s not hard to do!”

“Stop yelling at me! I’m just trying to help!”

You glanced at the clock on the wall. As soon as you got home after your 1:30 class, Desiree and Chohee had started pulling out ingredients and bowls and cookie sheets. You had thought they said that this wouldn’t take much of your time. Instead they have been yelling at each other for the past fifteen minutes as you made the cookie dough, “Okay, since you two have been bickering, I went ahead and made the cookie dough all you need to do is scoop it on to the cookie sheet and bake it for 8 minutes.”

“Aw, Y/N,” Chohee squeezed you in a hug. “You didn’t have to do all the work by yourself.”

“I really did,” you watched as they each started to place the dough on the sheets. “Okay, I’m gonna start cleaning up this mess. You two behave yourselves.” You pointed at them as you walked away.

“Y/N? Did you preheat the oven?” Desiree called.

You tossed your soiled apron into the washer, “Yes, it should be all set.”

“Thank you!”

You finished wiping the counter off as the timer went off, “Guys, cookies are done!”

Desiree and Chohee raced into the kitchen as you set the cookie sheet on the cooling rack, “They smell delicious.” Chohee reached towards the sheet.

You smacked her hand, “Nuh-uh, First of all, these are hot. Second, they were made for our new neighbor. Were they not?”

“Yes, they were,” Chohee sighed. “But we don’t have to give them all of the cookies, right?”

“I’ll set aside some for us,” you swatted her with a towel. “ Now go grab a plate. Once these cool off a little bit more we’ll take them over.”

You knocked on the door a little harder. Desiree frowned, “Maybe nobody’s home?”

“Maybe,” you sighed before giving one last attempt at knocking. When nobody answered you turned back down the hall, “We’ll just have to try later.”

“Sorry,” a man’s voice said as he opened the door. “I was in my room with the music up too- Oh, hello,” he smiled as he saw who was standing there.

Jung Jaehyun was a tall man with light brown hair and dark eyes. You could see how he was the envy of many across campus. You smiled back, “You’re Jung Jaehyun, right?” he nodded at you. “Great, we heard you had a new roommate and we just wanted to drop these by as a hello.”

“Hey, that’s awesome,” Jaehyun grabbed the cookies from you. “Thanks so much, yeah, he just finished moving in today. He’s actually n-”

“Jaehyun? Who’s at the door?” a dislocated voice moved through the apartment

Jaehyun shifted in the doorway, “Just some neighbors. They brought cookies as a welcoming gift.”

“What kind?” the voice walked closer to the door and as Jaehyun moved to show the cookies off you saw his room, “Oh, Y/N?”

“What are you doing here?”

~~

tag list: @beyond-gethsemane , @lanadreamie , @michplusb (I went ahead and am tagging you all in all of my reuploading of this fic, if you would like me to not or would like.to be removed from the tag list pls let me know!) @qianinterprises @stayctday

~~

*Repost form previous blog*

[closer-stars]

Gut Feeling (9)

Member: San Genre: Fluff, Comfort Word Count: 9k Requested: Yes Content: the stuff people have been waiting for. food. boys being boys (affectionate). life being a butt. relationships are tricky. the turns have tabled. just stuff i owe you all after the pain that is called Slow Burn Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. A lot happened in between (covid scare at home if anything) in my life ahah. :( . writer’s block. trying to tie some loose strings while having something to close off for the last chapter. we’re nearly done! Proof read!. (also ehe, look forward to another fic i’ve been making maybe? ; w;)

Network: @ateezlovenet

Tag list: @barsformars @yeotlny @seoultraveller @shinyddeonghwa @frankenstein852 @miniyeo @hwaberrykiwi @jeongyunhoed 

Part 8

Blood runs loudly in his ears that for a brief moment he thought he was hearing things. 

“Can we take it slow?” It’s not really a question for you but somehow you managed to make it sound like such. 

“Y-you’re really giving me a chance?” In his case, it really is a question phrased and sounding like such. 

The way he looks, cheeks flushed in various warm shades, hands pinned under his thighs-- in all honesty, he looked like a nervous high school boy. It was adorable. “Why else would I ask if we can take it slow..” You point out gently, trying to chuckle a little lightly to gently rid the tension in the room.

Relationships have always been tricky. 

Words stumble out of his mouth with the ease of a duckling who doesn’t know how to swim. “Yeah! I, uh, I mean, yeah, we can take it slow.” San can keep his composure together on the stage despite wardrobe malfunctions or falling microphone packs but put him face to face with someone who has his heart and he’s fumbling. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He confesses. He doesn’t want to commit the same mistake. Not again. 

His words soften your features. You can’t blame him. The road the two of you walked on was a tricky one. You’re a little hopeful that this time it won’t be as troublesome as it was in the past. “I think,” you start. It’s easy to miss the hesitance the flashes behind his eyes. “I think, I trust you enough to know that you won’t hurt me intentionally.” You say carefully. There are things you’ve learned in your years without him that made you who you are, now you’re willing to learn a little more with him by your side. 

His gaze on you is intense, studying your features closely as he hopes that you aren’t joking. It takes a moment for him to realize that you’re sincere. You’ve never joked about relationships with the members or with anyone. You’re taking the risk, what kind of sign was he looking for still? His lips curve upwards slowly, until his dimples show. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

It’s obvious how the weight on both your shoulders has been lifted at his answer. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of how happy he looks. The happy moment is cut by the growling of his stomach. Two pairs of eyes look at his stomach but only one pair of ears heat up upon realizing what had just happened. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” You say without missing a beat. “I’m not good like Wooyoung though when it comes to cooking meat.” You warn as you pull him up to bring with you to the kitchen. 

“The food you cook in barbeque restaurants says otherwise though.” He points out, truthfully, he’s at the point of hunger where he’ll eat anything. 

The face you make at his words makes him giggle. It was fun teasing you. “San, those meats were marinated in their sauces.. All I had to do was put it on some hot surface to make it edible.” As you go through your pantry, you ask him if he’s okay with seafood. Of course, this was met with enthusiasm. 

That’s how the rest of the night goes, just San telling you how the commercial filming went. He recounts how tired he is of the drink he had to sip over the day-- not that he’ll ever get tired of the drink itself but just for today he didn’t want anything to do with it. Along with the usual discomforts of filming, he retells the antics the members do that haven’t changed over the years.  It hasn’t quite set in yet that the two of you are now officially together, if anything, it still feels like the two of you are still just friends only with reciprocated feelings. 

It’s not hard to notice how tired San feels now that he’s clean and full (in stomach and heart), that you can’t help the smile growing on your features as you watch him stifle a yawn. “Go get ready for bed, your mattress is already ready.” You say, shooing him to get his needed rest. 

“No, I want to help clean.” He mumbles as he stands up, used utensils and dishes in hands. While you were packing away the leftovers, he already was one step ahead of you-- cleaning them already. He just knows where everything is by now. You also know how stubborn he is by now, so you let him. As thanks, you give him a quick hug. Just as you were about to pull away to let him finish, he makes an indignant sound. “Stay like this, please? I like your hugs.” 

“As long as you wash them thoroughly.” You murmur. 

---------

The two of you are on your own beds, until now San’s a little dismayed that Lily has to sleep in another room. It was to curb her neediness, you’ve told him in the past, but still. He didn’t mind having a little fur friend next to him while he sleeps. That is, if he could actually sleep. 

It’s been an hour since his back hit the mattress to call it a day. To his right was you, sound asleep with half your face covered by the blanket. He was a little envious of how you could sleep without any sort of habit like him. Unfortunately for him, he forgot to bring something to hug to sleep so he’s left alone wide awake with his thoughts. The conversation replays in his mind, picturing how you looked at him, he wonders too how he looked earlier. This wasn’t a dream was it? He doesn’t know why he keeps doubting everything. A part of him thinks he doesn’t deserve this, knowing how he was in the past. Another part of him has to remind himself that he’s grown from it. Should he have stayed for the night? He really needs advice from his members right now. But if he didn’t stay for the night then the two of you wouldn’t have-- 

“Still awake?” 

The soft voice startles him from his thoughts, his head whipping to the source. But, you look asleep so who’s speaking? 

“Can’t sleep, huh? Did you forget to bring something to hug?” The voice was from you despite your closed eyes. He gazes at you in relief, thankful that he wasn’t being fooled by some supernatural being. 

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be able to sleep soon.” He tells you softly once he catches the rasp in your sleep ridden voice. 

You raise your arm, inviting him over to your bed. “Come here. I know you by now.” 

Even in the dark, his eyes widen at your invitation. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.” San returns, staring at your open arms before looking at your features, your eyes now open. Who knew they could sparkle even in the dark?

“I do. I also do know that you’re very cranky when you don’t get a minimum of three hours of decent sleep.” At your words, he checks the time, blinding himself at the sudden brightness of his phone. 4AM. He shifts carefully into your arms. Good god, you’re so warm and comfortable. It takes him a while to wrap his arms around you. By the time his body melts with yours, and how his arm sinks onto your side, you’ve already fallen asleep.

Sunlight hits your eyes and you try to cover your eyes from the disruption, only to gently hit your forehead against something. That’s what gets you to open your eyes. A blue shirt? You shift in alarm to look up at who was right next to you. Oh right, you let San sleep with you on your bed. This is the first time you see him so vulnerable up close. His lashes just barely brush against his skin, his mouth slightly ajar as he snores softly. A small part of you wishes to have him like this a little longer, that even if you spoi yourself with a few moments of just gazing at his sleeping form, the day has to start. “San..” you murmur, shaking him gently. 

No response. The man continues to sleep on, with no plans of letting you move out of his hold. No wonder he sleeps with a plush toy or pillow in his arms.

“San.” You say a little louder. “It’s 7AM. You have a schedule..” You remind him, patting his arm gently. His groan lets you know he’s awake much to his distaste, even going as far as covering his eyes with his forearm, to block any sunlight from forcing him up. “Get up please?” You ask him nicely, though your hand proceeds to squish his cheeks, this time you let your phone blare your alarm. “I’ll cook you some breakfast as long as you get up and get ready for your schedules.” His arms tighten just a little around you, begging for a few more minutes through a raspy whine. San, come on.” You plead gently, patting his cheek lightly to get his arms to loosen up. Eventually he does, and you catch up on the lost time to prepare food and prepare yourself up for the day. 

“Only because your alarm’s Illusion.” 

--------

Breakfast goes by smoothly once San wakes up, coffee and a decent meal putting him in a better mood. You wonder when did he become a little better with the mornings but that’s another story for another time. The two of you eat quietly, the TV faintly plays the morning programs. 

“Ah, right..” You speak up after a moment. “Manager Yoon’s going to be the one to pick you up.” At least that means San doesn’t have to rush anymore when it comes to preparing for the day. That also means he’s the last to be made up for today’s guestings in the nightly radio. 

The man stifles a yawn, his body still warming up to the mere fact he’s awake in the morning. “That’s good. What time is he coming here?” He asks as he looks at his phone. “Nevermind, half an hour.” He quickly adds as he sees the message. 

This also means he would have to tell the boys and the managers of his relationship status now. “Is it alright if I tell the boys about us?” He asks, remembering the conversation he had with the members in the past. He gave it a shot now, and it was successful. “Of course, I won’t say anything if you don’t want to.” It was through the months of catching up that he realized just how private you are with your own life. 

You don’t mind, so you give him the go signal. “Yeah, if you have to tell the company too that’s alright. I just don’t want to go public with the relationship at least for now.” You trust San yes, but can you trust the fans? A lot has changed between the two of you but surely more so for the fans they cater to. 

He nods, a little giddy to tell the boys already that the two of you are now a thing. He sees the food that’s still on the table and feels a little bummed that he won’t be able to eat this at the end of the day. 

“Go get ready, your manager’s going to be here any time now.” You stand up as you finish your own meal.

He places his own plate by the sink as a thought flashes in his mind. He wonders how nice it would be to live with you, instead of just constant sleepovers. These thoughts were better saved for another time, for now, he opts to press a quick kiss on your temple. “Thanks, babe.”

---------

The trip to the hair salon was a little rowdy to put it simply. After San dropped the news on the three members and Manager Yoon, the questions just kept going. The questions were just the same thing though, just coming from two sources: Wooyoung and Yunho. Seonghwa on the other hand was watching the entire scene unfold with relief and amusement. It was nice to see San smile this bright and giddy again. 

San did tell the entire conversation to the best that he can to the three. Manager Yoon smiling to himself as well as he listens to him. “About time.” Yunho teases as he hits San’s shoulders over and over. 

“As much as I’m happy for you, I’m bummed I won’t get to see Hongjoong drunk.” Wooyoung says with a snicker. San takes no offense, admittedly he also wanted to see Hongjoong drunk too. Maybe some other time. 

“I’ll tell the other members in the dorm. I promised them that it would only be the members and managers.” San immediately follows it up with the promise. He trusts his members, he really does but the extra precaution was needed especially with you. As much as he wants to tell the members now, it’ll have to wait when they’re back in the privacy of their dorms. For now, they had to focus on their schedules for the next few days. 

--------

The other members noticed that San was a little happier than usual even at such an early hour. Yeosang throws an inquisitive look at Wooyoung, hoping for an answer to the strange behavior. The latter says nothing but gives his friend a patient smile. Even as San tries to contain his relief for you, there’s the feeling of quiet content on his shoulders. 

The cameras start rolling, and the smiles start showing. It’s nice to see the fans again after so long. New and familiar faces are in front of them, it was an odd feeling to see people this close again. The cheers that erupt after greeting them puts a rush of adrenaline into their veins. Though there was a glass wall that separates them, the djs and the fans, it wasn’t a big deal. Things were safe now. They can go out and have a small fan meeting with the fans afterwards.

The radio show goes smoothly: a few TMIs of their daily life and comeback preparations. Some skits were done for those listening in along with a short QnA with their new songs playing in between. As much as San wanted to check his phone during the break, there were fans just outside that could look at his phone just because he knows you usually message around this time. Instead, he looks out the window, greeting the fans and waving to the cameras. He’s grateful for the fans who have stayed through the thick and thin. In a sense, both sides have seen each other grow through life’s milestones. He wonders how many of them are in a relationship as well and the thought unknowingly makes him smile softly at the fans. 

It’s Wooyoung’s insistent poking and tickling that gets him out of his thoughts, just in time for the show to continue. Before the show ends, they’re told to sing their latest song. In typical fashion, they sing their hearts out even if this is just a radio show, even if their dancing won’t be caught on camera, they still do the choreography in their seats. 

For the ending of the show, they go to where the fans are waiting, waving to them as the curtains of the venue slowly go down. It takes a while for the curtains to go down but the boys make the most with a few finger hearts, waves, and kisses to fans who have been waiting for hours for them. Now that the radio show has ended, San was able to comfortably complain and retaliate Wooyoung’s teasing and poking earlier. 

“Don’t get mad at me. You really looked like you were out of it!” Wooyoung claims as he squeaks over the tickling that he can’t escape from. Thanks Jongho. 

It’s not like San can deny that he was busy in his own head but he wasn’t going to confirm it outright here. 

Hongjoong’s return with their new album that they signed in the hair salon managed to break the bickering. It was their way of thanking the DJ for being invited onto his show, along with the hopes of being invited again in the future. With all the niceties and other gratitudes out of the way, it was time to head home. 

---------

It’s when everyone’s finally at home that the air was buzzing with curiosity. It’s rare to have San be that warm in the mornings. Well he’s gotten better with the mornings, that was a fact but there was some sort of warmth that was oozing out of San today. He knows this too or at least, he can sense that there’s something in the air with his members. 

“San, did something happen?” Hongjoong asks, now that they’re complete again for their weekly catch up. The other four were still in the dark about what had happened, the three that do know are just smiling at him. The smiles though are clearly in different stages. 

Yeosang, despite his curiosity to know what happened, can’t help but feel a little bit of alarm at the sight of how different the smiles were on Seonghwa’s, Yunho’s and Wooyoung’s faces. “San did something really smart or really dumb.” He blurts out, much to Mingi’s alarm. 

This makes the mentioned male wince at how true it sounds. He did do a lot of dumb stuff behind the camera so he couldn’t blame Yeosang for that. “Depends on how you guys take it though…” San speaks up now that everyone’s eyes are on him. His hand reaches behind his neck, rubbing it to ease his nerves. After a deep breath, he tells them that you and him are now dating, officially. The room bursts into celebration after it sinks in: Yunho and Mingi tackling the poor guy to the floor, Jongho and Seonghwa have bursted into song-- a popular OST from a recent drama they’re watching, Hongjoong says nothing but smiles in relief at his member. Thank god it ends on a good note. Truly, his kids are growing up. 

“Wooyoung looks bummed.” Yeosang points out, though with no concern after knowing the reason. It gets everyone to look at him, everyone but San who feared the worst. 

“Nah, I’m happy for our Sannie here.” Wooyoung explains, putting emphasis on his nickname the same way you would for him. “This just means, Hongjoong-hyung and I won’t be able to drink ten shots.” 

It’s only then that Hongjoong bursts into cheer, going as far as to tease him much to Wooyoung’s fake annoyance.

San looks at the entire room, eyes slightly wide with shock. “So you guys are okay with it? The two of us dating?” Even to him, the mere fact he’s dating someone he’s had feelings for so long feels unreal. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, bottom lip out in thought. “No? Why would we have an issue with it? You’ve been in love with them for so long and growing through it and now the two of you are together. Why would we be mad about this? San, we’re happy.” He stops for a moment. “Do you have plans of telling the company?”

San tilts his head in thought this time. “I’m still thinking if I should. I mean, they’ve given me the go signal if I want to tell the company but they’d rather I don’t go public with the dating.” He recounts the conversation. Hell, even his fellow friends in the other groups didn’t go public with their dating. For now, he’ll stick to being private about your relationship. “Give me two months before telling the company maybe?” 

“Six?” 

He looks at Seonghwa, a little surprised by the input. “Really?”

“Or you know,” butts in Yunho. “Just tell the company when you’re ready.” 

“Can we at least meet up with them again soon?” Mingi asks now that it seems settled. “I miss seeing them too.” He admits, a dusting of embarrassment over his cheeks. 

Now that Mingi mentioned it, it’s been quite a while since all of you met up again. While he did have you all to himself for the most part, their hectic schedules have made it hard for the nine of you to meet for dinner. “I can send them a message, ask their schedule then we can plan it from there.” San suggests.

Seeing the younger yawn through their words, Hongjoong decides to end the catch up session there. “I guess we can end it here then. Everyone’s tired and we got a full schedule for the next three days.” 

It goes without saying that if there’s a full schedule then San won’t be able to sleep over until the end. For the most part, he manages not being able to see you on the daily. He’s used to it. It’s a little different now that the two of you are dating, he wants to see you more often but work comes first. The text messages will do for now. 

---------

The last schedule finally ends and already the members can feel the buzz in his body to see you again. Seonghwa snickers at the scene in front of him. A wide eyed San that’s about to bounce on the balls of his feet. If it weren’t for it being seen as rude, he would be bouncing to leave the building. While the younger’s too busy in his own thoughts and excitement, Seonghwa sneaks a video to send to you. 

[ Seonghwa to You ] excited_san.vid

[ Seonghwa to You ] be prepared for tonight

[ Seonghwa to You ] he was so exhausted the past few days.

[ Seonghwa to You ] he’s gonna be clingy

[ Seonghwa to You ] don’t say i didn’t warn you.

“Did you just send them a video of San?” asks Wooyoung under his breath to not be caught by San. All they were waiting for was the director in order to say properly bid goodbye after the long shoot. At his question, Seonghwa shows Wooyoung the video.  “Send it to me, hyung. I want to have something to use for his birthday.” The younger begs. 

“Just shoot him now. He’s swaying on his feet.” Seonghwa points out. True enough, San couldn’t keep still now. To others, he just seemed restless, aching to be in the comfort of his own bed. But the members know better, he’s excited to come home to you. 

[ You to Seonghwa ] I’m not surprised. 

[ You to Seonghwa ] I already have food ready in case he skips on dinner again.

[ You to Seonghwa ] laughing_apeach.emoji

Seonghwa keeps his phone immediately once the director comes in. Proper niceties were exchanged along with a gift of a signed album. Now that was done, San lets out a relieved exhale as they leave the premises. 

“Sleeping over at their place again?” Seonghwa teases his younger member. “Don’t forget to ask for their schedule for a dinner with us too.” He reminds lightly at the sight of San’s red cheeks. 

“Of course! Ah, hyung, what do you take me for?” San complains lightheartedly as they make their way to the car. 

“A lovesick puppy.” Seonghwa returns without missing a beat and it’s enough to make San hide his face behind his hands. While San tries to calm down from such a straightforward answer, Seonghwa already sends San a reminder to his kakao. “There, if you still forget, you’re cleaning the bathroom for a week.” 

The doorbell rings and you immediately make your way to the door. Lily following by your feet, the little one already knowing who it was by the door. By the time you unlock your door, you see San now in his casual get up, smiling warmly at you. “Hey.” San says simply, his arms slightly raised, a shy request for a hug to which you grant once he steps inside your home. 

--------

The familiar scent of your shampoo and your clothes relaxes his strained body after a strenuous week. You can feel him practically melt in your arms. “Hey, hey, don’t fall asleep like this. I’m not strong enough to carry you to bed!” The way your voice rose in concern and alarm made San giggle lightly against your neck. Not wanting to scare you any further, he peels himself off you. 

He spots your Lily looking up at him, tail swishing about in warm welcome to his return. Once they’re given the chance to head home for a break, he’ll get to see Byeol again. Once he sets his things down by your couch, Lily loops herself around his legs. “Nice to see you too~” he coos softly as he carefully picks her up in his arms. 

As he busies himself with your feline companion, “Have you eaten?” You ask from the kitchen. At least you don’t have to worry about what he likes to eat. 

“Not yet…” He confesses, a little shyly as he approaches the kitchen, gently setting Lily down on the ground. “What’s for dinner?” He asks, as he looks for how else can he help around your place. 

“Beef, shrimp and some tteokbokki I cooked yesterday.” The table was already set up. You lean against the counter as you wait for the microwave to finish heating up the last of the meal you prepared for him. Silence shortly falls over the two of you, save for the microwave whirring in the background. It’s hard not to spot how hungry San looks at the sight of the food in front of him that it makes you chuckle lightly. “You can eat already, San. I’m just heating up the tteokbokki.” 

The microwave beeps as it finishes heating the last meal. Already San has started to eat the beef first and you let him eat in peace, god knows how long it has been since his last meal. He notices you watching him with soft eyes and again he feels his ears heat up. He asks you a question that you can’t quite decipher with the food in his mouth. “Eat first, before you ask again.” You reassure, once he tries to rush through his food. 

You had a point so he chews slowly this time, making sure to not choke in the process before speaking up again. “How was your day?” He asks, this time a little clearer, before taking another spoonful of what looked like his 2nd serving of rice. 

Well, you entertain him with your day: meetings, pre-production preparations, scouting of locations. It’s the same old day for you but you don’t mind. You’re always on the move even at the odd hours of the night sometimes. He sees it in your smile, despite the dark circles under your eyes from sleepless nights, he sees how fulfilled you are with your work. It’s the same feeling he has with his. It’s through you that he learned how to be a better artist in front of the camera and with the staff. It’s also because of you that Wooyoung’s video editing skills got better but that’s another story. 

So you return the question to him, wondering how he’s been for the past few days. Honestly, you tune in to his shows whenever you can, sometimes even just having it as background noise as you work on your own at home. 

He takes your question as his cue to let his body digest the food he practically inhaled. He leans back against the chair, trying to recall the blur of the past few days. To a degree, he does. Truthfully, the days melt into each other when it comes to work. The only way he knows that time has passed is through the habits the members have, along with your text messages. It’s not that he doesn’t care for himself but his life as an artist is always fast paced that even someone as seasoned as him still has trouble with telling the days apart. Despite that, he’s able to remember enough to give you a bit of story, though he ends it with a bashful confession of how the days just blur into each other sometimes. Your reassurance relieves him even if it’s a bit. It’s a little worrisome that he confuses the days when he works, he admits. 

When he realizes that he’s already full from the food, he lets out a content sigh. “Thank you for the meal, really.” He says, already feeling sleepy from how sated he feels. 

“Hey don’t fall asleep on me!” You whine as you nudge his calf under the table. “Help me put these away first!” It takes him awhile to regain his surroundings, food coma already coming in fast for him. Fortunately, he manages to get himself out of his lazy state to help you. 

Once all of that was over, the two of you lounge by the couch, letting the tv play whatever movie was playing. It’s only when the two of you are in your sleepwear that the exhaustion sets in. 

Your head finds comfort leaning against his arm. The two of you weren’t really paying attention to the movie, it was just there for white noise. Both of you were just basking in each other’s presence-- even if it meant Lily pads back and forth on the couch behind you. The two of you watch the feline bolt across the room, chasing after its own toys. As Lily bounces off, running after a ball, San takes a peek at you. “I know that look.” He says softly, careful to not startle you. “Wanna talk about what’s in your head?” He offers. 

Truthfully, he also had some thoughts in his head. Though, he still has trouble phrasing them out loud, he’d rather listen to you first. Maybe from there he’d get answers or relief from your thoughts as well. 

Your gaze has fallen from Lily running around to your hand just brushing against his and it’s when San speaks up softly that you snap out of your daze. “Hm?” You hum in response. “Nothing serious.” You reassure. “Just thinking of how we’ve become.” You add. How do you tell San the thoughts in your tangled head? There’s a lot of thoughts in there, verbalizing these thoughts still aren’t your forte. 

“Oh?” He replies, hoping to hear more of your thoughts. As much as he is talkative, taking the role of the ears was something he appreciates just as much. “Like how?” He asks, his palm upturned as an open invitation for you to hold his hand.

It takes a few moments for you to accept the invitation as you ended up just keeping your gaze on his open hand. “It’s just… I feel happy with you.” It’s not the answer he expected but he listens. “Not saying that I wasn’t happy without you, I felt happy and fulfilled on my own. I think,” You stop often, trying to find the right words. “There’s something about us now dating that makes my heart race.” 

“Is it a good kind?” San asks, leaning forward and shifting to face you properly. 

It’s hard to miss how intense his gaze can be despite the soft look in his eyes that it makes you look down at your hands that brush against each other. “Yeah, I like the feeling so far.” You admit. It’s a new feeling, the best way you can describe it is how you get so excited and nervous for the first day of doing something you love. Only instead of doing something, it’s knowing you have someone willing to stay by your side. 

It’s such a new feeling and you’re not sure of how to treasure it properly. 

 like, we went from these two awkward adults making ends meet with their jobs, still trying to get used to the fact we’re both in our early twenties.” The mention of the age makes him think back to those years. It feels a little weird to have started out like that to end up becoming the man he is today. He thinks back to his members, seeing each other grow and become their own individual selves outside the group. Eventually the thoughts go to you, the one sitting next to him with their arm looped around his. “Come to think of it, San. I did a lot of stupid things too back then… in hindsight, I could’ve reacted better and done things a little differently and maybe neither of us would’ve gone through such things but…” A soft sigh leaves your lips. “That’s life. We’ve learned from it from the looks of things.” 

Once you finish your thought, San’s features soften up. It’s not that he’s been wanting some kind of apology for how you acted, he’s moved past that by now. He’s been in good terms with you now but he still wonders just how vivid your thoughts are. After you spill your thoughts, he leans over to brush his lips against your temple. He doesn’t know why he does so but it just felt like he should. Having you lean into his affection was a thrill he doesn’t see himself getting tired of, it leaves such a warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t help but pull you closer. “What has happened brought us to where we are now, so please, don’t beat yourself up for what happened.” He murmurs softly, pulling away to make you look at him in the eye. 

The two of you were so close. So painfully close, that one could just reach out a little and your lips could touch. No one makes a move though. Instead, the two of you look at each other, quiet content in the air. San closes the gap between the two of you by leaning his forehead gently against yours, giggling softly. 

“What?” You mumbled, slight confusion in your voice. The lack of distance now had your heart racing, the faint scent of his shampoo already had your head spinning. 

“Nothing,” he just giggles and quickly presses a kiss on your forehead. “The movie’s already finished. We barely even paid attention.” Already, the screen’s rolling credits along with bloopers in between. He glances at the time. It’s a habit of his when he’s had a long day. 

“Let’s go to sleep?” You offer, after he puts his phone down. He flashes a small smile. “What?” 

“I don’t have anything tomorrow, so I’ll be able to catch up on sleep.” He says with pride. A small part of you tightens in pain, you have a full day tomorrow. 

“Crap, I got a full day tomorrow. I can buy us fried chicken and maybe some soju to make up for it.” You explain. He looks at you and guilt shines in your eyes to which he shakes his head.

He squishes your cheeks together, producing a surprised yelp from you. “Babe,” he starts. “It’s okay, that’s work. You have to deal with me working crazy hours day in and day out, I don’t mind.” He explains. The way your lips pucker up makes him laugh. “At least bring home some mint choco ice cream too!” A thought of how your lips would feel against his passes his head. 

On the other hand, you felt your heart skip as he called you ‘Babe’. Maybe you can call him something similar down the line. His words bring you reassurance, managing to smile after he lets go of your cheeks. “I’ll buy you a big serving.” You promise as you stand up, stretching your now sleeping legs. San raises his arms to you, looking like a baby asking to be carried. With your utmost strength, you pull him to his feet. 

To be honest, ever since he slept with you in the same bed, it’s been a little weird to sleep on your own. He says hugging you makes him sleep better, but you can’t deny that sleeping in his arms does feel nice. Now that you’re settled under the blankets, he pulls you flush against his chest. “You sure it won’t get too hot for you like this?” You ask him once you make sure your alarm is ready for tomorrow. 

“Nope. I’ll be fine. You need to get your sleep. Do I need to sing you a lullaby?” 

You were thankful he couldn’t feel how hot your cheeks have become at such an offer. Maybe in the near future. Instead of saying anything, you just lace your fingers with his that were around your waist. “Go to sleep, Sannie. You got chicken, soju and ice cream waiting for you tomorrow.” Just as you were about to drift to sleep, you feel his nose nuzzle lightly against your neck. The last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his smile against your skin. 

--------

You wake up to your phone buzzing to start the new day. Something in you tells you staying at home is better but you press on. As much as sleeping in with San is nice, you need to earn money. 

A soft yawn slips from your lips, and you stretch just a little. It’s a little tricky to wake your body up when San’s warmth practically envelops your entire being. Regardless, you miraculously wriggle yourself free from San’s sleeping figure to get ready for the day ahead of you.   

You get ready for the day quietly, making sure to not make too much noise. Carefully, you manage to make yourself something filling and quick to eat on the way. Of course, knowing how late San wakes up on off days: you put his share in the fridge. A quick note is placed on the fridge, just something to let him know there’s some food for him if he doesn’t want to order take out. You also make sure to feed Lily as she’s already pacing around expecting food for the day. “Don’t disturb Sannie okay?” 

Before you leave, you press a quick kiss on his temple-- it was the only spot you could see as he practically buried himself in your blankets. How lucky. With that, you’re off to work. 

--------

It’s midday by the time San wakes up. Lily’s already on his chest, meowing at him to wake up. The weight on his chest gets him to his senses quickly as he scrambles for his phone. “What time is it…” He rasps out as the screen momentarily blinds him. 2.00 PM. He’d sleep more but it’s not an option when Lily’s impatient for her lunch. Once Lily knows he isn’t falling back asleep, she hops off him. Her tail swishes about in impatience and hunger. Once he was free, he rolls off the bed with a yawn. Feed her first before doing any of his morning routine. 

He’s wide awake by the time he gets out of the shower. Also, he’s hungry. He looks through his messages as he walks around your apartment. 

[ You to San: 8:00 AM ] hello hello! I made some food that you might want to eat once you wake up!

[ Wooyoung to San: 9:54 AM ] When can we eat with the two of you? :> 

[ Hongjoong to San: 1:45 PM ] We got a photoshoot three days from now. Don’t forget! 

You usually message him around noon to remind him to eat even if he was just in your apartment. But it’s already 2.45PM, he worries for a moment but he tries to chalk it up to you just having a full day. He checks the kitchen and sees the note that you stuck onto the fridge. 

You made rice balls and took some of the left over meat for your breakfast. This means that you made some for him too. He looks into the fridge once more if there’s any other food he could pair with the rice balls. He does: pickled radish, fermented anchovies and some beef with the rice balls. If he still wants more, he can go for take out while waiting for you. 

He spends what’s left of his day watching tv or playing games on his phone, all while entertaining a rather clingy Lily. 

[ San to You ] How are you? 

It’s been a couple of hours since you’ve made any message to him. It’s become the topic on his mind, being battled out by two opposing sides of: you’re probably busy or something’s wrong. There was another possibility that he didn’t consider until now: both. For his peace of mind and hopefully yours, he writes up a message for you.

[ San to You ] Babe, don’t stress about the food! Leave it up to me, just come back into my arms okay? 

[ San to You ] San_Duck.jpg

He looks at the time, he remembers you mentioning that you’ll be back by ten in the evening. That’s roughly five more hours of waiting and lounging about. He treasures the moments of silence and alone time he gets regardless of where he is: they’re a rarity in his field of work. His phone’s barely ringing from anything work related, but it rings when it comes to game invites. Who was he to turn down a match or two with his dear friends? 

For the next hour or two, he manages to entertain himself with a few games, all while Lily finds entertainment in his hoodie’s zipper. The only reason he stops is because Lily was about to pull his hoodie off from her insistent pulling and tossing about. “Alright alright, you’re really just like your owner huh?” He jokes under his breath as he stands up to play with the feline this time. 

In between playing with her, San manages to get some snacks in his system. With only less than three hours left before you arrive home, he orders take out for dinner for the two of you. 

All that’s left now is to wait. 

It’s already eleven. The food’s a little cold now, the ice cream and alcohol are in the fridge. Maybe he should heat it up again? Are you okay? He doesn’t know if he should worry or go out and look for you. Even Lily’s restlessly swishing her tail about by the door. He looks at his phone and your message comes in right on time. 

[ You to San ] Sorry work ended late.

[ You to San ] I couldn’t buy your favorites too.. 

Something definitely happened at work but he won’t ask through text. You’ll tell him anyways. 

[ San to You ] It’s fine! I’ll heat up our food ^^

When he stands up and picks up the food from the table, Lily looks up at him unblinking. “They’ll be late but they’re on their way home.” He replies, a bit of an attempt to reassure himself as well, while heating up the chicken and other meals he bought. 

You arrive at home at nearly midnight. Your bag being dropped somewhere in the hallway. The drop startled both San and Lily. He immediately jumps to his feet and peeks into the hallway, you’re there against the wall, running your fingers through your hair. He notes how you’re trying to pace your breathing. “Babe…?” He calls you softly, worry obvious in his eyes as he takes a careful step forward. “What’s going--” you run into his arms, and slowly, his shirt feels a little damp. A little surprised by the turn of events, he glances at Lily. The feline says nothing but approaches you, gently butting her head against your leg. Even she was worried by the sudden burst of tears. “Hey… let’s sit down, you’ve had a long day.” San ushers gently. He doesn’t make a move until you cry out the initial frustrations. 

He sits down first, letting you sit in between his legs, almost cradling you as you try your utmost best to stop crying. Lily pads over to the both of you, hopping onto the couch to keep an eye on you especially. San doesn’t say anything, letting you cry as much as you can, proving back rubs whenever your body shakes from tears you try to hold on to. 

Whenever his hand’s on your back, the tears keep flowing. No matter how hard you try to use your usual methods to stop crying, it still keeps going. “Need tissue..” you mumble through your sniffles. Already your boyfriend has one in his hand and he wipes your tears first, before attending to your nose. He reassures you to take your time, that you don’t need to tell him if you don’t have the strength to talk about it. Besides the reassurances, he reminds you to eat too. That’s when you realize you’ve been on an empty stomach for a long while now. You shift in his arms just to get some food in your system. 

As the two of you eat, the walls you tried to keep up earlier, come down. You tell him of a horrible meeting that set everyone a week back which could mean a longer delay down the line. It’s not your fault, you say over and over, wanting to believe your own innocence. No matter what you did to avoid this situation, it still happened because of uncooperative talents who decided not to tell anyone of their plans. Yet it fell on you, you were the point person for both sides yet because of their inability to communicate, the brunt of the chaos fell on you. All the pent up stress you kept away from San bursted today after that horrific meeting. The reason you left late was due to all the follow up meetings to rearrange the timeline of projects. The constant frustration and disappointment from everyone and yourself just broke you. As you explain, your voice breaks again that you had to put down the potato wedge. You try to control yourself again. You’ve cried too much. 

San has none of your insistent need to control yourself. He whispers soft praises and words of comfort. “It’s okay.” he would say as he feeds chicken pops to you. “You did everything you can and I’m proud of you still.” He would remind you as he urges you to drink water.  “Let me know who these are and I’ll give them an earful.” He threatens. While it sounds empty to the two of you, he knows just what to do should he know who these were. At one point, the tears continue again and he wonders just how much you’ve tried to keep from him no matter how many times he asks. Your lover sighs a little, pained to see you in such a position but he knows you need to let out all the things you’ve kept inside. He lets you cry it out but he also makes sure to wipe the tears that continue to run down your already tear stained cheeks. He could only imagine just how heavy you feel. “Can you look at me?” San asks gently. It takes a few heart beats but you eventually do. Eyes shining still with tears that have yet to shed, yet you manage to still have that flame in you to keep going. “Today’s one bad day. That’s okay.” he starts, cupping your cheeks because of how often you look away whenever he gets into these moods. He needs you to keep his eyes on him this time, just once. “Tomorrow’s another day. Another beginning. Your co-workers are aware now of how insufferable those talents are. They’ll come to their senses to apologize to you.” A small smile flickers in his serious visage when he hears you laugh a bit at his choice of words. “Also, it’s okay to cry. Don’t hold it in to yourself. Even if we’re both always so busy, you can talk to me or Jiwoo.” A meow comes from behind you and it makes the two of you look at Lily, pacing around the couch. “Of course, Lily’s here as well.” His thumbs run across your cheeks ever so carefully, wiping away the tear stains. “Promise me at least? Anything that bothers you, talk to anyone about it, even me.” 

You lean into his touch, your hands rest over his ever so lightly. At his words, your chest tightens at how worried he is for you. Your eyes close again, breathing slowly. “I will.” You say simply. It doesn’t surprise you anymore when you feel San’s lips flutter over your eyes, your cheeks, then your nose. The ticklish yet comforting feeling causes giggles to bubble out from your lips. Yet you don’t say anything, still so shy by how close he is to you. He doesn’t pull away yet, and you can’t open your eyes just yet. You can feel his gaze on you though and it makes you squirm a little, self conscious and curious of what’s San looking at exactly. His words, barely above a whisper, makes you sit still in between his legs. 

“Can I kiss you?” It didn’t take much for you to understand where he wanted to kiss you. For a moment you bite your bottom lip in thought at such a question. In your exhausted state, his question brings your brain out of the fog enough to make you nod. 

The kiss isn’t like those in dramas. There’s no music that plays in the background, no fireworks. It was just silence in your room and your heart beat in your ears. It’s not like the pop songs that talk of sweet lollipops and chocolate flavored kisses. This tasted of dried tears and take out food but it was familiar. It’s not like the books where they describe just how soft their lover’s lips were. This was a little chapped and rough but it felt so right. The kiss was a little clumsy, noses bumping along the way but it was something that made your day a little better. 

You never thought you could melt under someone’s affections and love. But here you are, feeling a little weak in his hold, wanting more of his lips against yours until either of you pull away for air. 

It takes a moment before the two of you pull away from the kiss. It wasn’t the most ideal situation to do so but it just happened naturally. He wished he could take the pain away from you but that’s not how life works. This was the best thing he could think of to comfort you. You lean against his forehead, a smile so faint, so soft, it reminds him of pillows just before sleep takes him. “Thank you.” You say softly. “Thank you for being with me.” 

You didn’t realize that your hands have slid over to loosely grip his shirt. 

 He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head just a little, just to kiss the corner of your lips. “Anything for you.” He simply says. There’s relief in his shoulders when he sees how you’ve stopped crying, how the rain clouds in your head have cleared up. Giggles bubble out of your lips, slowly the you that the two of you know comes back. 

“Can I take a shower? I want to be in my pajamas.” You say, slowly regaining your surroundings. You were still rather hungry but you want the comfort of fresh new clothes. 

“Go ahead. I can clean up from here. I’ll see you in bed then?” he asks as the two of you stand up, putting all the bones and other trash in one bag. You press a quick peck on his cheek as thanks, scampering off quickly before you could see the shocked look on his face. It takes him a moment to get back to reality. “Ah, what am I going to do with you..” He asks to no one in particular. He feels Lily’s eyes on him, her ears flicking in what he assumes could be amusement. “What? I’m in love with them.”

--------

The two of you are finally in bed, getting ready to wind down. “What’s your schedule tomorrow? Er, well, today.” He asks as he towel dries your hair. 

“I come in at noon, they said they’ll look through the records as protocol.” You say simply. Now that your head’s clearer, you know that this won’t mean the end of your career with the production house. It could mean some reprimands but it’s not the end of the world for you. 

“Okay good, at least you get some sleep.” He muses, satisfied now with how dry your hair is now. He carefully combs through your locks.

“San If you keep that up, I’ll fall asleep on you like this.” How you managed to say that through a yawn was beyond you. 

“That’s okay, I can carry you.” He says without missing a beat but he stops either way, putting away the towel and comb. “Tell you what, by next week, let’s have dinner with the boys.” 

It’s a good idea. You miss the boys already and you wonder how they’ve been since the shoot. “Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll send you my schedule when we wake up then we can plan it from there?” 

The two of you shift a little in bed and as always, San’s arms finds their home around your waist, pulling you a little closer than usual tonight. “Sleep well, babe.” He murmurs softly against your neck. In return, you squeeze his hand just a bit. 

“You too, Sannie.” Tomorrow’s a new day. As long as you can have him, you can take on anything.

Relationships might be tricky but you’ll make it work.

Part 10

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

A Worst Cooks in America O’Knutzy AU

The Sweater Weather Discord group helped me come up with this idea like two months ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. All credit goes to @lumosinlove for her amazing characters!

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

Chapter 1: Don’t Go Bacon My Heart

The Day Before the Competition

Interviewer (off camera): Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay for their introductions.

Logan: * taps on microphone* Is this mic working?

Finn: How do you still not know how to work a mic? You deal with them all time.

Logan: I signed up to compete in a cooking show, not to deal with your chirps.

Finn: You love ‘em. *winks*

Interviewer: So basically all we want from you guys is a brief introduction for the viewers. I’ll ask some questions, but most of this should be you guys just talking. We can edit things out later, so don’t worry about anything like that. Why don’t you guys start with your names and careers and we’ll go from there.

Finn: Yo, I’m Finn O’Hara, and I’m a terrible cook. *finger guns* Although I guess that’s a given, seeing that I’m on this show.

Logan: *mumbles in French, head in hands*

Finn: This asshole – shit, no – fuck! Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be cussing. This is a family-friendly show.

Logan: Dear God, please stop talking. I’m Logan Tremblay, the unfortunate boyfriend.

*Finn pouts*

Interviewer: And you guys play hockey?

Logan: Yeah, we play in the NHL. Gryffindor Lions.

Finn: That’s how we met, actually. Through hockey. We played together at Harvard, then got drafted to the Lions about a year apart. We’ve known each other for eight years and have been together for three of them. Can’t seem to get rid of this one.

Interviewer: And you’re not worried about being rivals on this show?

Finn: Rivals is a strong word… I mean yes we’ll be competing against each other instead of being teammates, but we know going in that it’s not personal. Just a little healthy competition.

Interviewer: So what made the two of you sign up for this show?

Logan: We didn’t. Our teammate Dumo and his wife Celeste did. They thought it would be funny. *pause* They’re probably right.

Interviewer: Out of the two of you, who is the worst cook?

*Finn and Logan point to each other*

Logan: You can’t be serious.

Finn: You once cooked pasta so much that it turned into literal paste!

Logan: You tried to cook pizza rolls in a toaster.

Finn: That’s what it said in the instructions!

Logan: It said toaster oven, you - *more French*

Finn: English, Tremz. How many times do I have to tell you that? I guess we’ll find out once and for all who the better cook is by the end of the next eight weeks, right? *mouths “it’s me” to the camera*

Logan: Whatever, Fish.

Interviewer: I think we’ve got all we need guys, thanks. Start time for tomorrow is 10:00 am, but plan on being here forty-five minutes to an hour early to get ready. We’ll see you then.

Competition Day

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous.” Finn stated, running a hand through his hair and looking around at the studio they’d be in and out of for the foreseeable future. There were cooking stations everywhere and he could already see tools and machines that he had no clue how to use. There were twelve other contestants that he didn’t know and the crew scattered everywhere, running back and forth trying to get everything ready. “God, how am I sweaty already? Is this normal?”

Logan rolled his eyes but still reached over to grab Finn’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “Relax. It’s not so bad.” Finn smiled down at him, glad that they were at least here together. How in the hell did he get so lucky?

“Besides, you’ll be sent home soon enough. So don’t stress too much.”

Finn laughed. “Wow, I hate you so much right now.” He betrayed his words with a quick kiss. “You’re going down.”

Those green eyes flashed at the challenge, but right as he opened his mouth to respond-

“Good morning, recruits!”

All heads turned towards the voice. Three figures stood towards the front of the room: one they both recognized as the producer, who was flanked by who Finn assumed to be the chefs, seeing that they were wearing chef’s outfits. Chef’s uniforms? Did their uniforms have a technical name? Finn made a mental note to google that later.

Anyways, one was a short woman with dark ringlets tied back in a ponytail and an undiscernible expression on her face. The other was tall, blond, and had legs for days Jesus Christ-

“Welcome to your first day of boot camp! This is chef Dorcas Meadowes and chef Leo Knut; they’ll be your team leaders. We’re going to start with some footage of you all walking into the kitchen, so if you all would wait out there until you’re allowed to come back in. Cameras will be rolling, so be ready! After that, our chefs will explain the first challenge and then you’ll start cooking.” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s get this show started!”

“Why did they make us come in here just to send us back out?” Logan grumbled, following the other shuffling contestants out into the hall.

“Probably easier to give directions to the main studio instead of saying ‘hey, just wait out in the hall.’”

Logan hummed noncommittally. “I guess.” He wasn’t overly excited to be here; most of this (besides the initial push by Dumo and Celeste) was Finn’s idea. And god knows he could never say no to Finn. One look at that pout and brown puppy-dog eyes and he was done for. Logan didn’t like cooking, but he did like Finn. And they’d probably remember this for years to come. It didn’t matter what he was doing, as long as he was with Finn and making memories with him he’d do just about anything.

“Wonder what the first challenge is.” Finn mused, his eyes locked on the doors.

Logan laughed. “Always so impatient.”

“I’m a New Yorker,” Finn grinned, leaning into his accent. “It’s in my blood.”

The doors opened and contestants began filing back into the kitchen. Finn made sure to wave enthusiastically at the chefs with a wide smile. Logan noticed the tall one (god, he’d already forgotten the guy’s name) give a little wave in return as the other chef commanded the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Good morning, recruits, and welcome to boot camp! I’m chef Dorcas Meadowes, and this is chef Leo Knut. He’s the rookie of our crew, but don’t worry – he’s still qualified to teach all of you. Even though that’s not saying much.”

There was a smattering of laughter and chef Leo smiled, revealing dimples Logan could see from where he stood. “Hey, y’all. I’m very excited to see what makes all of you qualified to be put on this show. Who knows? Maybe you’ll give me more gray hair.” Dorcas laughed and ran her fingers through the tuft of gray hair at his temple.

“When did you get this? I don’t remember seeing it when we were in culinary school. Is it from Iron Chef?”

“Nah, this is from having Gordon Ramsay come to my restaurant.”

“Truly a terrifying man.” She shuddered. “Anyways, you guys be nice to this giant ball of sunshine. Even if he’s new, he’s still able to eliminate you from this competition.”

“In order to pick our teams, we need to see what kind of skills you have.” Leo winced. “Or don’t have. So today, we want you to make your favorite dish. Easy enough, right?”

“Oh god,” Finn murmured into Logan’s ear. “What’s my favorite dish? Do I even have one?”

“Finn.”

“You all have an hour to complete this task.” Dorcas said, glancing down at her watch. “And your time starts… now!”

“Fuck.” Finn stated emphatically, dashing off to the pantry.

Fuck was right. God, what was Logan going to make? He was wracking his brain for something while he grabbed two aprons from the back. He tossed one to Finn and took the station beside him before hurrying to the pantry. Chicken was always a safe bet, right? Celeste made a barbeque chicken recipe that was to die for. That couldn’t be too hard. It was just chicken and barbeque sauce. And maybe green beans on the side? He could get those canned ones and they’d taste fine if he rinsed them. This was fine.

He guessed on the temperature for the oven. 350 seemed good. Then he dumped two chicken breasts into a pan, poured the barbeque sauce over them, and put them into the oven.

“What are you making?” Logan startled at the soft voice, turning to see chef Leo at his station.

Blue eyes.

Logan blinked, Leo’s question forgotten. “Quoi?”

“You speak French?”

Why was his brain refusing to work all of a sudden? Get it together, Tremblay. “Uh, yeah.”

“What are you making?” Leo asked for the second time, but now it was in French. Weirdly worded French.

“Barbeque chicken.” Logan responded in French, then switched back to English. “What in the world was that?”

Leo flashed him a grin. “New Orleans, born and raised. We speak French there, too. Now tell me how you’re making that chicken.”

“Uh.” He had never said the word ‘uh’ so much in one sitting. Merde. “I put it in a pan, spread barbeque sauce over it, and I’m cooking it at 350.”

“How do you know when it’s done?”

Was this a trick question? It felt like a trick question. “Uh.” Fuck. “It has to get to a specific internal temperature, right?”

The chef nodded. “And what’s that?”

“145?"

Something in Leo’s expression flickered, but Logan couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Well, good luck. Logan, right?”

“Yeah.”

“See you at the judging table.” He said with a dimpled smile before moving to Finn’s station, which was already a mess. “Oh my. How are you doing over here?”

Finn laughed a bit hysterically. “Not good. Not good at all.”

“Ok. What’s going on?”

“Well I’m trying to make carbo’hara, and –“

“Really, Fish?” Logan called from his station. “That’s what you’re making?”

“What’s carbo’hara?” Leo asked as he watched Finn put bacon in a pan.

“Oh,” Finn waved a hand carelessly. “It’s just carbonara, but a pun on my name, O’Hara. Get it?”

Leo laughed, crossing long arms over his chest. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, but it makes me happy. My parents used to make it every night before my brother or I had hockey games.”

“Oh, that’s right. You guys are hockey players.”

“Go Lions!” Finn cheered, taking a spoonful of butter and throwing it into the pan with the bacon.

“Are you putting butter on bacon?” Leo asked with a raised eyebrow.

Finn responded with full confidence, “I didn’t want it to stick to the pan.”

“Ok. Got it. I… I look forward to seeing what you make.” Finn watched as Leo bit his lip and tried his hardest not to laugh.

Cute.

Finn felt his cheeks flush and blamed it on the steam from the pasta.

The last thirty minutes of the task were absolute chaos, but both boys got it done. Finn’s looked messy, which accurately summed up his cooking style. Logan was pretty proud of how his looked; he just hoped it tasted good. He gave Finn a smile and a fist bump. “Ready to be judged?”

Finn laughed, looking down at his plate. He grimaced. “Not really.”

“We’re all bad cooks. Chances are someone else’s dish is worse than yours.”

“That… actually helped. Thanks.”

***

 Finn was chosen to be judged before Logan. He brought up his plate with a sheepish smile and placed it on the table in front of the chefs. Dorcas raised an eyebrow while Leo prodded the pasta with his fork.

“It’s carbo’hara.” Finn stated with pride.

“Well, Finn…” Dorcas met his eyes. “This looks like a mess, but let’s see how it tastes.”

Finn cringed as they both took a bite of his food. Dorcas frowned as she chewed and Leo tilted his head, a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t know how you did it, but this solidifies in my mouth like glue.”

“Oh god, please don’t eat any more.”

“You definitely put a lot of effort in and you have a lot of potential,” Leo said with a small smile. “I think you were just a little too ambitious for this first round and it got away from you.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for the input.” Finn grabbed his plate and made his way back to his station. He wasn’t too upset by those reviews – he already knew he was a bad cook. But he had potential, so at least he had that going for him.

Logan grinned at him back at his station. “I can’t believe you served the judges glue pasta.”

“At least I’m not serving them canned green beans.”

“They taste just fine, thank you very much.”

“Lo, they’re professionals. You’re not getting away with something lazy like that.”

He definitely got in trouble for using the canned green beans. Dorcas looked down at them like they were worms. Leo gave him the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ look, which was even worse, please don’t look at me like that.

“Canned food is a no-go, huh?”

“Definitely.”

“And this chicken isn’t cooked all the way.” Leo said, showing him the pink meat. “You said earlier that you’d cook it until it reached 145 degrees, but chicken needs to reach 165 at a minimum.”

“I’m sure it tasted fine, though.” Dorcas added. “You can’t really go wrong with pre-made barbeque sauce and chicken.”

Ouch. Logan grabbed his plate. “Right. Thanks.”

Finn was predictably cackling at his station. “Tremz, they couldn’t even eat yours. Celeste is going to be so disappointed in you.”

“Shut up.”

 ***

As soon as they were back into their hotel room, Finn kicked his shoes off and faceplanted into the couch. “I can’t believe that took so long.”

“Yeah,” Logan sat down and grabbed his take-out. “Who knew cooking all day would make us so hungry?”

Finn made grabby hands at the other food container. Logan laughed and handed it to him. “I haven’t been this hungry since playoffs, fuck.”

They ate in silence and were finished in record-setting time. Finn collected their trash and stood up to throw it away. “So blue team, huh? I’m kind of surprised they put us on the same team.”

“Me too. But Leo seems like a good teacher, so I’m glad we’re on his team.”

“Yeah, he seems so young, too.” Which sounded ridiculous to say; Leo couldn’t be that much younger than them. “If he’s already winning competitions and starring in cooking shows at that age, he must be pretty good.”

“Winner of Iron Chef America, Chopped, Guy’s Grocery Games…” Logan read off his phone with a low whistle. “He graduated culinary school early and opened his own restaurant a year later.”

“Damn.”

“There’s a video of one of his competitions on here.”

“Play it!” Finn said excitedly, flopping back down on the couch and peering over his boyfriend’s shoulder. Logan gave him a strange look. “What? Maybe we’ll learn something useful.”

“I think this is going to be way too complicated for us, but ok.”

So they sat on the couch watching cooking competitions for hours, learning skills and techniques that went way over their heads. Logan wordlessly switched to Leo’s cooking show Cajun Cooking, watching episode after episode of the blue-eyed chef teaching traditional New Orleans recipes.

Little did they know that halfway across the city in his own apartment, Leo Knut was watching Youtube highlights of the Gryffindor Lions, keeping a sharp eye out for number seventeen and number ten.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Bound (Part 2)

Summary: With some help from Samson, Dean makes it back to the bunker and starts to process everything that’s happened...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Morning,” said Sam as I groggily sat up. He was cooking in the kitchen, humming a happy tune to himself.

“God, it’s barely seven in the morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I’ve already been up for an hour,” he said. “Eggs?”

“If you’re offering,” I said, stumbling over to his bathroom. I changed back into my clothes, yawning as I sat down at the table. He put down a cup of coffee and plate of scrambled eggs along with some hot sauce. 

“You got any money to get by?” he asked, standing at his counter eating.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, wolfing down my food. 

“Here,” he said, pushing an envelope towards me. I leaned over and grabbed it, opening it up to find a wad of money. “It’s about five hundred. S’all I got laying around the house. That enough to get you home?”

“Samson I can’t accept this,” I said, putting the envelope back.

“I wasn’t really asking,” he said, setting it down on the table next to me. “I’d let you take my car but I need it for work.”

“Sam, it doesn’t look like you got much. I’m not taking your life savings,” I said.

“I have a bank account, jackass. It’s not my savings. Don’t worry about it. Go home, take care of what needs to be done and yourself. You’re getting closer to popping. Pay it forward some day,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, drinking down the last of my coffee. I tucked the envelope in my pocket and he set his mug down.

“I’ll drive you to the bus station,” he said. I put on my boots by the front door as he rummaged around in a closet. He pulled out a black winter coat and held it out to me. “For if you decide you need a walk again.”

“Write down your address,” I said, handing him back the envelope.

“Alright. I don’t want any money or the jacket back. Send me a Christmas card or something,” he said. He returned it after a moment and grabbed his keys as I slipped into the coat. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks man.”

“S’no problem. Let’s get you home.”

36 Hours Later

My hands were shoved in the fleece lined pockets as I walked up the dirt road to the bunker. The ice storm in Colorado had followed me all the way back to Kansas but the hooded winter coat made all the difference in the world. I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and curl up in bed with one of Y/N’s blankets. 

What happened after...I wasn’t going to be able to put off later for much longer. Now that I was home though, I could let go and get my head on straight in the morning to figure out what had happened.

With a deep breath I stepped down to the door and opened it up. The heat had been left on and the hallway was cozy. I stepped through to the other door inside and found the lights were on too, exactly as they were when we’d all headed out. Just in case, Y/N said. She didn’t want to come home to a dark house.

I headed down the stairs and cut into the library, the space feeling far too big for just me.

“I miss you,” I said. I pinched my nose and heard a creak behind me. I spun around, eyes wide.

“Dean?” said Sam. My Sam, the one that must have died, must have, was right there, in pajamas and with a bowl of chips in his hand.

“I die and now you eat the crap, Sammy?” I said. He set the bowl down and rushed over, giving me a hug. “I’m getting you all wet.”

“Don’t care,” he said. He squeezed me hard and I let out a tiny gasp, Sam giving me some room after that. He looked confused though and shook his head. “How…”

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said.

“I didn’t die. You pushed me out of the way,” he said.

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “You were right there. Since I woke up I assumed…”

Sam was smiling at me still but the hunter in him finally kicked in. I nodded to the cabinet where everything he’d need to test me was. Three minutes later he was hugging me too hard again.

“Relax, Sammy. Gonna pop my shoulder back out,” I said. He immediately released me and I cradled my arm. “I fixed it already.”

“Still. You should wear the sling Y/N bought,” he said. We wandered over to the infirmary and he dug around in a drawer until he pulled it out.

“Is she…” I said, taking off my jackets and slipping it on over my head. Sam shook his head and I sighed. “You don’t know that for sure. Up until five minutes ago you thought I was dead too.”

“True but, you know,” he said. I nodded, staring at the floor. “Cas is alright. Billie got him back from the empty. He’s up in heaven trying to help keep that going. They’re trying out this new method or something.”

“Not your memories?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.

“No. I mean kinda. More like, collective afterlife? It uses a lot less power I guess,” said Sam. “They’re doing small test groups right now he said. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“How’s he alive again?” I asked.

“Billie brought him back,” he said as we walked over to the kitchen.

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s doing okay. He got pretty hurt during the fight. I took care of him for a few weeks before he headed out. New God and all. He’s still learning.”

“He bring me back?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know how to do that yet. He says he feels like he will be able to someday, like it’s in his bones but he doesn’t know quite right now how to pull it off,” said Sam.

“So how am I back?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said. I took a seat at the table, catching Y/N’s mug sat at the end in her usual spot. “We gave you guys a hunter’s funeral. There’s a little marker up in the woods a ways, in that clearing you two used to go have dates in.”

“There’s no body then.”

“No. Where’d you wake up?” he asked, taking two beers out of the fridge.

“Middle of nowhere Colorado,” I said. “Any idea why?”

“No, not really. Any place we ever hunt?”

“No. I met a guy. Samson, apparently dad and I saved his folks back in the day while you were at school. But they didn’t live there. I never...I never met the guy,” I said. “He knew who I was but he’d never met me.”

“You think he was lying?”

“He was nice to me when I was an ass. I don’t think he was playing at anything. How would he know what I looked like though?”

“It’s possible I suppose that he reached out to other hunters and learned more about you? I mean the girls got pictures of us. Maybe Eileen?”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Shit, Sam. How’s-”

“She’s good,” said Sam with a small smile. “She’s over in Lawrence at the moment actually. She’s looking at houses for us.”

“You guys deserve to finally be together,” I said. “She’s good for you.”

“I know.”

“Gonna stop hunting?”

“I don’t really need to anymore. We kind of turned them all human,” said Sam. I cocked my head and he shrugged. “The hail mary? It worked. No more monsters.”

“That’s great,” I said, forcing a smile. Great. I couldn’t even bury myself in hunting to feel slightly less crappy. I was worthless.

“I’m heading out to meet Eileen in a few days. Come with me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude or-”

“You can have some space but you’re not staying here alone,” he said.

“Y/N’s dead. I have no job now. I’m not gonna be the brooding mope sitting at the end of your couch when you finally get to be with your girl.”

“Dean,” said Sam as I stood up.

“I really want to shower and sleep, Sammy. I’m cold and exhausted. Please,” I said.

“You’re gonna come with,” he said. I clenched my fist and glared over my shoulder. “Y/N wrote you a letter for if she didn’t make it back. It’s in your room. When I thought you both...I read it in case she wanted something to be done after she was gone. You know the only thing she said? You need to go live your life. She loves you and wants you to be happy.”

“Easy for her to say. She’s not here,” I said.

“Dean. I know this is raw for you and I’ve had four months to deal you didn’t. Don’t disrespect what she wanted.”

“Oh fuck you,” I said. I stormed out, pausing around the corner. I heard him behind me and slumped my shoulders down. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he said.

“She was supposed to live, not me,” I said. “Cause she’s stronger than I am and I can’t deal with her not being in that bedroom when I go down this hall.”

“Dean. Grieve. Please. For the first time in your life, grieve properly. When you’re ready, you and me will go out to Lawrence. I’m gonna call Eileen and make sure she finds a place where you got a big room and your own bathroom and garage and all that. Until then, I’m gonna stay here. Ignore me, yell at me, whatever. I’m staying. Alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I want a pool too.”

“Dean.”

“Hot tub.”

“We’ll put one in.”

“Fine,” I said. He ruffled my hair and I headed down to the bathroom. I slipped out of my clothes, pulling out the envelope with a few hundred dollars left. “Sammy.”

“What?” he called back.

“Figure out who this guy was,” I said, holding the envelope out the door. “That’s his name and address.”

“Whiltiston,” said Sam, making a face. “You sure this is his name?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You wouldn’t know. About two months back, the Whiltiston family was in the news. National news. They’d been reunited with their daughter who was kidnapped as an infant. She was safe. The people who took her pretended to be her parents. They were real sickos. I’d hunt ‘em down if they weren’t already dead,” said Sam.

“So this guy’s her brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, there was a brother Sam I remember mentioned at the press conference. They didn’t show anyone but the dad but they were all really happy to be back together,” he said.

“Still doesn’t explain how he knows what I look like.”

“They said the girl has a sketchy memory of certain things. I mean they were bad people, Dean. It’s possible we worked her case and didn’t know?” he said.

“See if you can dig up a phone number for me too,” I said.

“Yeah. I’ll see if...you know, we’ve been in the national news before too. It’s entirely possible that one of his parents saw us on the news and told him that was you.”

“Oh. That’s...a lot more likely,” I said, frowning to myself. “Forget about it. Could you just slip in some extra cash in there for me? I’ll send it back along with the coat. The guy didn’t have much.”

“No problem. I’ll get you the phone number too. I know you’ll drive yourself nuts if you don’t know for sure.”

“Sam,” I said as he started to leave. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

“Me too. Take your shower. I’ll put out some pajamas for you.”

I nodded and shut the door, resting my head against the back of it. After a moment I went to the shower and turned the water on, forgetting about the prickly heat until my skin turned a slight pink and started to warm up. Somehow I got through with washing myself before I saw Y/N’s shampoo staring back at me in the cubby. I swallowed and picked it up, flipping open the cap and taking a deep inhale.

It took awhile and one concerned knock at the door to realize at some point I’d sat down with my knees in my chest, Y/N’s shampoo sat on the ground beside me.

“Dean? You okay? You’ve been in there for an hour,” said Sam. I buried my head down and heard the door creek open. “Dean? Answer me or I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice raw and cracking with every syllable. Sam didn’t open the door anymore but he was still there.

“Turn off the water,” he said. I reached up and hit it off, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. “You have one minute to dry off and put on a towel.”

The door shut and I forced myself to get up. I patted myself off and got a towel around my waist, trying to wash my face off before Sam saw me.

“I’m coming in,” said Sam. One look at him said more than enough and I looked away. “I told you to grieve.”

“Her freaking shampoo bottle,” I said. Sam looked over to the shower and saw it on the ground, running his hand through his hair. “Why can’t I shove it down like every other time?”

“You know why. There’s no chance of you getting her back and she wouldn’t want you to do something stupid. You loved her. You’re always gonna love her. Dean, I’ve been there with Jessica. It’s gonna fuck you up real good for a while. I thought I’d never be happy again, not like that, and then I found Eileen. It feels like the end of your life but it’s not,” he said. “It’s not going away if you shove it down so just feel it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I brushed past him and went to my room, shutting the door to change. I left it closed and sat on the edge of the bed, catching his shadow under the door. It moved away after a minute and I let out a sigh. The room smelled musty which I appreciated. It was something different to focus on. 

I rolled over to Y/N’s side of the bed and saw the letter Sam had mentioned on her nightstand. I ripped it off and found it wasn’t as long as I’d expected. She probably did it last minute.

De, I love you. I’m always going to love you. I need you to try to keep loving and not shut the world out. Find some happiness again or I’m gonna haunt you like I’m your own personal Casper. Okay? You’ll get there someday. My big green flannel is in the closet if you need it. Be safe (I’ll keep an eye out for you though, promise).

My head glanced up and over to the closet, staring before I stood and opened it. At the end was her big oversized green flannel. She’d stolen so many of my clothes over the years she’d decided to get something of hers I could take for myself.

I pulled it off the hook and brought it back to bed, tugging it on before I lay back on the mattress.

It too was a little musty but there was the faint scent of her shampoo again filling the air. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” I said. I shut my eyes and turned off the light, hoping exhaustion would put me to sleep quickly.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[jaigeye]

for the prompt meme: 20, rex + saw thank u

30 multipurpose prompts. ( rex + saw. ) / read on ao3

"how far can you carry this?"

Onderon is in the Japrael sector. It's inner rim, but not a bad place to hide when you've got business in the area. And Rex has- well, he has plans, so to say, here on Onderon. It's unusual for him to be so untethered. He hasn't taken or given an order in ages. 

He spent six days on a little neighboring planet called Morvolo, keeping track of how many times he saw its four moons and trying to bear the bitter cold weather. He had to hide; Rex was certain he'd been tracked to the sector, and it would be too obvious to go to Onderon first, so he set his ship on the ice floats and waited. There's no food on Morvolo, no animals or insects or life at all, really. Just him and the infinite tundra. 

For all these reasons, he hasn't eaten in five days. The rations dried up quicker than he'd thought. Usually he wouldn't be so careless; Rex is nothing if not organized, prepared for all outcomes. 

Anakin used to say-

No. He scrubs his face and sits on a crate in the little camp. It's hard not to think of all that when he's back here again- the only real difference is that this time he's unaccompanied. He scrapes the heel of his boot in the dirt and stares hungrily at the beast that's slowly cooking on the spit in the center of camp. It's being slowly dissected and loaded onto different rebels plates, but he's only just arrived and nobody seems to know what to make of him, so Rex waits for the right moment to come along to get some for himself. If they'll let him.

He could try to hunt. It's not an entirely foreign concept to him. The forest is so alive all around them. It puts him on edge; Rex isn't familiar enough with the flora and fauna of the area to rightfully judge what is or isn't a threat, so he eyes even the meekest of lizards with suspicion when they pass him by. 

"Hey," says a deep, steady voice, interrupting the nothing he was doing. "Your name is Rex, isn't it?"

He glances sharply, at first suspicious that anyone would so easily recognize him, much less recall his name but then he sees him and his defenses collapse. 

"Yeah," he rasps. His voice is a little worn from disuse. "Rex."

Saw Gerrera leans against a tree, a plate in each hand. An easy smile lingers on his lips. Rex's eyes linger there a little, too, but then the food is too tempting to ignore- and Saw must notice, because suddenly he's holding it out to him the way one might entice a cautious animal It works embarrassingly well; his stomach clenching with hunger, Rex huffs and reaches out to take it.

"I'm Saw."

He stares at the meat and the rice on the plate, not yet eating, still caught between his manners and his ravenous hunger. "I remember." 

(How could he ever forget a man like Saw Gerrera?)

Saw nudges his shoulder gently, urging him to scoot so he might sit beside him. Rex flinches. "Sorry," he mumbles, making room. 

If he noticed his reaction, he doesn't bring it up. Saw just settles in beside him, rests his plate on his armored knees and looks at him. "You can start eating, you know. It's fine."

He can't help it; Rex brings it up to his mouth and tears into it, starving, and surely the rice is sticking to his hands and he must look frantic but he doesn't really care. It's been three days. He was so cold, out there, and he'd resorted to holding a pebble in the back of his mouth just to taste something, waiting it out. He'd stayed in his ship, shivering, melting blocks of ice in cans to drink.

It's amazing, frankly. The food. It's juicy and fresh, so hot it burns his fingers a little as he pulls it apart and it smells like spices he's never tried before but will certainly crave in the years to come. It's coated in butter, sharpened by onions, and whatever sauce it's been doused in is a little caramelized.

Rex lived off nutrient gruel for most of his life back on Kamino, so things like this are still.. exciting. Overwhelming.

Once, after Ahsoka accompanied Master Ti to Shili for some Togruta hunting ritual, she came back and made Rex sit down and eat what she'd caught. Said she wanted to share; that it was special, that it meant something. 

Never in a million years would he have turned her down. It tasted a little like this. It burned his tongue and made his eyes water but he still thinks of it sometimes- not long ago he'd thought maybe he'd ask for her to make it for the men after they returned from Mandalore, that they'd like it, after all they'd painted their buckets to look like her. They trusted her. It would feel just like the old days. 

He gulps from his canteen and keeps going. It's so good. He's eaten mostly only ration bars these past weeks. There's no time to cook or eat a real meal in some cantina when your own brothers are hunting you- there's no time for anything anymore. His hand clenches around the plate like someone might take it from him.

His face feels hot, eyes burning. The first time they had a night off on Coruscant, he and the 501st had gone to some back-alley restaurant and spent hours there together, laughing over the meal that they themselves had to cook on the little stove over their table. It was good. It was so long ago. It feels like yesterday.

Numb to the world around him, he doesn't notice the concerned face Saw makes; only the hand that presses gently to his thigh when Rex realizes he's crying.

"It's Pikobi. What you're eating. It's my specialty." Rex stops mid-chew to follow the direction of Saw's pointing, over at the half-eaten animal turning on the spit. It's skinny and reptilian and by the look of it, shouldn't taste nearly as good as it does. Saw smiles calmly, distractingly, and though he can barely see it through the blur of tears in his eyes Rex just nods. 

"You made this?" He asks, finally reaching a point in the meal where he can bear to slow down. Rex wipes off his face and hands on his cloak and tries to subtly dab his eyes. It's a little pathetic to cry over a meal, but he couldn't help it.

"With a little help."

"It's really good," he manages. "It's- sorry. I haven't eaten in a- in a good long while. It's good."

"I understand. It's fine, Rex, there's plenty more where it came from."

It's all too much. He can't even eat without losing his grip- Rex's life is gone, and he's left wandering this world full of things that remind him of it. He was a captain not so long ago, then a commander- and now he's just Rex, a man so burdened by the weight of his world that he's constantly buckling beneath it. 

He doesn't know, some days, how he can still carry it, or why he even tries to go on. 

It's then that he realizes dimly that Saw's been talking the entire time. "-- not a hard recipe to make. It's harder to hunt than it is to cook; Pikobi are fast, evasive creatures."

It dawns on him that Saw is probably trying to soothe him.

When he'd last seen him, the man was a mess; Saw didn't eat or sleep following the death of his sister. They'd draped a flag over her casket and now he wears it as a cape, always standing upright and proud. 

It's incomprehensible to him that one might be able to move forward in such a way. Rex clutches his plate and thinks about a world where his pain isn't so raw.

"Maybe sometime.." Rex exhales shakily. "I could accompany you to hunt one. Sometime."

Saw's hand squeezes his thigh once more, just above the armor plate. "Sure. Could show you how to cook it, too."

The hand retreats. Rex looks out at the bustling camp and then at the man beside him once more, giving him a small smile- the only one he can muster. Perhaps he can bear to carry it all a little further. 

"I'd like that."

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 66 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Katya decided that parenthood might be in the cards after all, Pearl couldn’t get Dahlia out of her head, and Violet worried that Sutan’s friends would never be able to respect her.

This Chapter: Brunches, presents, an announcement, a trip to the champagne room, and a new hire.

***

Sutan opened the door to his apartment, a smile blooming on his face at the fact that the light was still on, which meant Violet hadn’t gone to bed yet.

It was after 8, Sutan spending the day with Gigi and then going to a Christmas reception in the evening with Tamisha, his boss pleading with him to please come with her and make sure no one she hated talked to her, Sutan guarding her for the entire cocktail hour.

“Violet?” Sutan called out, hanging his jacket up and toeing his shoes off.

“Bathroom!”

Sutan walked through the apartment, the door to the bathroom open. Violet was standing at the sink, her fingers braiding her hair into French braids.

“Hey,” Violet smiled and gave him a quick kiss, her lips tasting faintly like sugary lip scrub. “I didn’t know if you’d be home, but I got dinner for you too.”

“What are we having?” Sutan leaned against the sink, watching Violet who unscrewed the lid on one of her face creams, scooping out a dollop and rubbing it into her skin.

“Lentil soup.”

“Yum.” Sutan drawled, his tone bone dry.

It wasn’t that he hated lentil soup, but he’d never understand why Violet ate it voluntarily when the entirety of Manhattan's takeaway options were open to her.

“Don’t act like that,” Violet huffed, holding up her hand with a bit of leftover face moisturizer, silently asking him if he wanted it and Sutan nodded, Violet’s fingers gliding over his cheek seconds later. “It’s good for you.”

“Do I at least get bread this time?” Sutan had to bite his lip not to smile, Violet looking at him like he had grown a second head when he had complained about the distinct lack of bread on his plate the last time she had ordered dinner.

“Yes,” Violet rolled her eyes, but she continued rubbing in tiny circles, even dipping her fingers again to make sure she had enough to cover his entire face.

“Lucky me,” Sutan wasn’t sure if he was talking about the bread, or about the strange little things Violet always tended to do for him, this little traditions of theirs starting in Paris when Violet had needed to get rid of some extra hand moisturiser and had ended up massaging it into his skin.

“Did you have a good day?” Violet ran a finger down his nose, the pressure weirdly comforting, her never ending attention to detail carrying into this as well, the finishing tap on his nose a sign that she was done.

“Very good.” Sutan smiled as he watched Violet wipe her hands, her bedtime routine done for now even though she was still in her work clothes. “Been all over the city. Shopping, dinner, the whole shebang since I’m training a new model.”

“Great.”

Violet wasn’t fully paying attention because she had already heard of days like that before, instead grabbing her crutches to get to the kitchen, but Sutan didn’t mind.

In past relationships, he would have been interrogated if he had said he had spent the day with a model, Kahmora in particular, always keeping an eye on him.

He hadn’t thought much of it then, hadn’t even considered that there could be anything wrong with it, after all, it showed that they cared, but he had to admit that it felt amazing that Violet trusted him to do his job and just his job.

“I put your soup in the fridge,” Violet made her way to the kitchen table, sitting down to keep him company while he ate his dinner. “Sorry that it’s cold.”

“I don’t mind,” Sutan pressed a quick kiss to her temple, walking over to the fridge. “Oh. Speaking of.” Sutan looked over his shoulder. “I got you something.”

“You did?”

“It’s on the table.” Sutan grabbed the container of soup, an order of bread lying untouched on the counter. “White plastic bag!”

Just like with the ring dish, Sutan hadn’t actually realised how often he just dumped his stuff on his kitchen table, the quick pitstop he had taken at home to change into evening wear just enough time to add to the ever growing pile that Violet patiently stacked against the wall every single day.

Sutan dumped the soup into a bowl, opening the cabinet that hid the microwave to pop it in.

“Sutan… What…” Sutan turned around, looking at Violet who was holding the iPhone 6 box he had picked up at the Apple store. “What’s this?”

“A phone?” He leaned against the counter, the microwave humming away. “I’m sure you’ve seen one before.”

“I understand that it’s a phone, but why are you giving this to me?”

Sutan paused, that question not at all the one he had expected. He was thankfully saved by a ding, the microwave telling him that his food was ready so he had time to think.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? They had the newest model in stock,” Sutan took his bowl, grabbing a spoon before he walked over to the table, Violet’s brown eyes following his every step. “And your phone is barely working.”

“I don’t think-” Violet pursed her lips, clearly swallowing her words. “I can buy my own phone.”

Sutan smiled. Of course. He should have seen it coming. You wouldn’t know it just looking at Violet, his girlfriend so prim and proper from the outside, but she was adorably non-materialistic if it didn’t concern clothes.

“You could, but you haven’t, and I happened to be at the Apple store.”

“I-” Violet looked at him, her brown eyes searching his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome lovely eyes,” Sutan captured her healthy foot under the table, holding it between his own. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

***

Bianca picked up the French press and poured herself a second cup of coffee, inhaling the fragrance as she lifted it to her lips. She and Courtney had been in bed all morning, but finally decided to wander downstairs for a very late breakfast.

She looked up to where Courtney stood at the stove, concocting some kind of tofu scramble.

“How’s it going over there?”

Courtney had insisted it was one of the few things she knew how to cook, happily chopping tomatoes, zucchini, shallots, and pretty much every other vegetable Bianca had on hand before dumping it all in a sizzling wok. Bianca was frankly unconvinced that she knew what she was doing, but told herself she’d eat it regardless.

“It’s great! Almost done!” Courtney chirped, adding what Bianca noted was a respectable amount of hot sauce for a white girl.

“Sounds great,” Bianca said, opening a cabinet to grab some plates.

“It’s so nice having a stove,” Courtney commented. She said it in a breezy, offhanded way, but it gave Bianca pause, turning towards her with a furrowed brow.

“You don’t have a stove?”

Courtney bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed, and explained, “Well, my place is a studio, and...uh, there’s not like a full kitchen.”

Bianca nodded, doing her best to keep the judgment off her face. No stove meant that whatever place Courtney was renting was not a real studio, and likely an illegal sublet. She shuddered to think of all the potential safety violations in that kind of set-up. Nevertheless, she decided to drop the subject, putting the plates down and slipping an arm around Courtney’s waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you for making breakfast, baby.”

“Anytime…” Courtney gave the pan another stir with a wooden spatula before leaning back against Bianca, letting her hold her even tighter.

“So listen...I, uh...have a proposal for you.”

“Oh?” Courtney tilted her head back, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, so, there’s this big fucking board meeting scheduled for January 6th, so I’m probably gonna stay in town over the holidays. I was thinking that maybe you could stay here, while Galactica’s shut down. With, uh, full stove access. Would you like that?”

Courtney whirled around, her beautiful face beaming, throwing her arms around Bianca’s neck and exclaiming, “I’d love it!”

Bianca leaned forward to capture her lips in a gentle kiss which soon grew deeper as Courtney arched against her, backing her up against the island. Bianca smiled against her mouth, unable to stop the dimples from piercing through as she thought about how lucky she was.

They stayed like that, blissfully wrapped in each other, until Bianca lifted her head to ask, “Is something burning?”

“Shit!”

***

“Mmh,” Trixie had to bite down a moan, his mouthful of waffles and bacon like an explosion of flavor. “Holy shit!”

“So?” Katya grinned, looking at him with her blue eyes. “Are they up to the standard?”

Their entire Sunday brunch crew, and even Violet, was gathered in their living room, Katya cooking for everyone, the table stacked with hearty and filling winter recipes like ginger and peach pudding, spiced sweet potatoes, apple pancakes and baked chickpeas.

“They’re amazing!” Trixie smiled, shoving another forkful down, the salt and the syrup perfect together.

“Awh thanks sugar butt,” Katya pressed a kiss against his cheek, which made Kim produce a retching noise.

“Take it to the bedroom you two!” Kim threw her napkin at them, which made Shangela snort and Ivy giggle.

“Be careful what you wish for Kimmie,” Pearl drawled, a stack of apple pancakes largely untouched on her plate, “because you really don’t want them to take it to the bedroom.”

“Everyone,” Max rolled his eyes, even though he was still smiling and Trixie snorted, a sense of pride welling up in his chest at Pearl’s words.

Sure, he and Katya had a tendency to be loud, but how could he not when Katya was the hottest woman alive, her innovation, commands and demands in the bedroom so fun and rewarding to follow.

“Actually,” Katya sat up straight, Trixie mourning the loss of her heat for a moment, until he recognized the serious expression on her beautiful face. “Trixie and I have an announcement.”

Everyone grew quiet, all watching them as Katya stood up.

“I’m pregnant...and we’re keeping it.”

At once, the table erupted in cheers, Ivy hopping up off the chair she was sitting on to go hug Katya, while Pearl made a beeline for the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder that she was getting the champagne.

“Congratulations!” Violet smiled, her hands clasped together. “That’s amazing!”

“It is,” Trixie smiled, warm happiness filling his entire body as he watched Katya laugh, Shangela joining in on the hug.

“Mama! I can’t believe you're gonna be a Mama!” Shangela grinned, holding Katya’s elbow and shaking her. “I thought you were completely set on never having kiddos?”

“I thought I was, but-” Katya looked at Trixie, their eyes meeting across the table. “It happened and, I mean. What’s the worst case scenario? That we fuck up and they become a serial killer?”

“Shit, that would be fucked up,” Kim snorted, her eyes widening. “Not that killer isn’t a cool name.”

“Now that’d be something!” Pearl grinned, returning to the living room with a bottle of champagne and several glasses, the stems between her fingers. She bent down, pressing her cheek against Katya’s stomach. “Hi Killer! We can’t wait to meet you!”

“Pearl!” Trixie swatted his best friend's shoulder, but Katya was laughing, holding Pearl’s head and pressing it against her stomach, and while Trixie seriously hoped his child wouldn’t become a serial killer, he had to admit that it was a little bit funny.

“Seriously,” Shangela looked around. “All y’all need Jesus. Stat.”

***

“Courtney,” Tyra said, rapping on the glass jewelry case to get her attention. “Courtney…”

“Court!” Morgan cut in sharply, and at that she finally looked up.

“You ready to take a break?” Tyra asked. “There’s a pho place right around the corner that we could try.”

“Oh, uh...yeah, just give me a couple of minutes.”

Tyra exchanged a put-upon look with Morgan, who returned her look with an exaggerated eye roll. When they’d suggested meeting up, neither of them were anticipating following Courtney around as she scoured antique stores to find the perfect Christmas present for Bianca.

She’d already found a huge book of 1960s fashion photography, as well as a vintage Hermes scarf, but apparently that wasn’t enough for her precious girlfriend. And worse, she’d been talking about nothing except Bianca all afternoon.

Tyra didn’t care if Courtney was gay or bi or whatever, but this slavish devotion to her brand new relationship was extremely tedious, and it made Tyra long for the days when Courtney would date men whose names she forgot three days later.

“Ooh, look at these!” Courtney exclaimed, pointing to a pair of earrings. “Aren’t they beautiful?!”

“Nice,” Morgan said, barely looking up from her phone.

They were nice. As annoyed as Tyra was, she had to admit that. They looked like brass, cut into art deco shapes and adorned with garnets, exactly the right style for Bianca, at least from what Tyra could tell from seeing her on TV.

“Excuse me,” Courtney asked the sales clerk, “How much are these earrings here? I can’t see the price tag.”

The clerk took a key and opened the case, pulling out the earrings to examine the price tag before declaring, “$279.”

Morgan whistled softly under her breath and the clerk raised one eyebrow, just barely but enough to be noticed.

“Shall I ring them up for you?” he asked drily, clearly expecting her to say no, already moving to put the earrings back into the case.

“Um…” Courtney bit her lip, fingertips resting on the edge of the glass.

“Court, you’re not seriously gonna spend that much are you?” Tyra asked, appalled. She’d seen Courtney’s apartment. That girl did not have a damn penny to spare.

“Yeah, she knows you’re poor, there’s no way she’s expecting some expensive gift,” Morgan added.

“No, I know, but…” Courtney squared her shoulders and looked at the sales clerk, saying, “I’ll take them.”

Tyra looked at Morgan behind her back, scandalized, shaking her head. Morgan smothered a laugh with her hand and gave a little shrug as if to say, ‘It’s her credit card debt.’

***

Pearl was back at the club again. At 4 pm on a Sunday. Which was totally normal, right?

Right.

She sighed slightly, swirling the whiskey in her glass, unable to hear the clink of ice cubes over the pounding bass. She should definitely leave, she knew that, and told herself that she would… She wasn’t going to say that she was obsessed, wasn’t going to give in to the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about Dahlia, but she was leaning on the side of pathetic, and if there was one thing Pearl Liaison didn’t do, it was pathetic.

She probably had to rethink that though, as she handed one of the managers 200 dollars in cash, the man taking her to a small enclosed room, a heavy red curtain blocking out the rest of the club.

Her stripper alias was “Sin,” which was both absurdly simple and painfully fitting, Pearl drawn to her dangerous beauty like a spell, hungry for even the smallest taste of her.

Pearl tapped her fingers against her thigh, her lip between her teeth, when she heard a voice come from the doorway.

“Well well well,” Dahlia smirked, pushing the curtain aside.  “Look who’s back.”

Pearl felt her heart skip a beat as Dahlia gave her a slow once-over, her bedroom eyes even sexier when she was so close. Today’s outfit was a sinful (fitting) red set, a garter belt digging into Dahlia’s soft tan skin.

“Mmmh.” Pearl tried to keep her face blank and expressionless, tried desperately to hang onto the last bit of control, but she couldn’t stop her heart from speeding up as Dahlia made her way across the room, her palms getting sweaty as she swayed her hips to the music.

“So,” Dahlia smiled, swinging a leg over Pearl’s lap. “You know the rules right?”

She smelled like peaches, and Pearl had to dig her fingers into the velvet of the couch she was sitting on.

“No touching,” Dahlia reminded her, full lips twisted into a smirk.

“I’ve never been a fan of rules.”

“Good thing that isn’t up to you then,” Dahlia sat down, and Pearl had to bite back a groan as she took her weight, the woman an insane tease. “Promise me that you’ll be good?” Dahlia tilted her head, her lips slightly separated, “or I promise you that a bouncer will kick your ass to the curb.”

“Shit, right, right.” Pearl nodded, and Dahlia grinned.

“Good girl.”

Pearl swallowed. Dahlia reached out, grabbing a remote from behind Pearl, a small speaker inside their room powering up, and Pearl was in heaven as she began to move.

To call it a dance would be generous, but Pearl didn’t care. She was mesmerized by her curves, watching her with rapt attention as she swayed her hips, bent down to slowly unhook the garters, leaving them dangling. Dahlia was sin personified, her bra holding her perfect tits in place, the promise of hard nipples just underneath the lace.

Dahlia turned around, and Pearl knew instantly that she worked out, her ass round and firm, the kind of deliciousness that only came from discipline and hard work. A quick motion and her bra was now unhooked. She let the straps slide off her shoulders, finally dropping the bra on the ground.

“Turn around,” Pearl whined, unable to help herself, and Dahlia looked back over her shoulder, dark eyes flashing with amusement.

“You really want it, huh?” she asked, and Pearl nodded vigorously.

“Uh huh.”

Dahlia turned back slowly, hands demurely covering her chest, lashes fluttering.

“Please…”

She kneeled on the couch, straddling Pearl’s thighs before removing her hands, arching up forward to display her glorious tits, brown nipples hard and so, so close.

Pearl bit back a whimper, and Dahlia began to roll her hips slowly, inching closer and closer until her perfect mouth was right up against Pearl’s ear.

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

“How much I hate rules,” slipped out of Pearl’s mouth before she thought better of it, and Dahlia laughed.

“Poor thing...” Dahlia clucked, taking Pearl’s hand from the arm of the sofa and inching it towards her body. First her thigh, skating her fingertips higher and higher up her beautiful tan skin, flashing the naughtiest smile as she got closer to her lace, barely-there panties.

Pearl’s chest heaved, and Dahlia laughed, right in her face, redirecting her hand higher and higher, palm very nearly brushing against one of her pert nipples, finally letting it rest on her bare shoulder as Dahlia ran her own fingers teasingly across Pearl’s.

She arched forward again, those incredible tits grazing Pearl’s own chest. Pearl squirmed painfully on the sofa as Dahlia body-rolled against her, not daring to move her hand from where it was placed, fingers digging into the smooth skin.

She was close, could feel herself on the edge, and orgasm so close just from this, and then suddenly the song had ended, and Dahlia hopped up off her lap, re-clipping her garters, picking up her bra from the floor.

Pearl tried one last hail Mary, hoarsely saying, “Give me your number.”

Dahlia laughed, shaking her head. “No way. This...this is business.” She gestured to the room around them. “That would be...not. And anyway, what would your girlfriend say?”

“She-” Pearl swallowed. “We broke up.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“We did!” Pearl sputtered. “It’s true.”

“Yeah, well, even so...you do know I’m her friend, right?” Dahlia asked pointedly.

“Well…”

“Exactly,” Dahlia said, shaking her head again. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“I want to see you again,” Pearl said.

“You can see me anytime,” she said sweetly, adding pointedly, “As long as you bring cash,” before leaving, shutting the curtain behind her.

Pearl let her head drop back against the sofa, a deep sigh leaving her. Fuck.

***

“So,” Trixie tried not to tap his fingers or look at himself as he watched his computer screen, Skype pulled up.

Trixie didn’t like doing job interviews, the process tedious and draining each and every time, living up to Fame’s expectations and wishes difficult on a good day.

Interviews, however, were especially draining when it happened digitally, trying to act natural hard enough on its own when on screen, but as the manager and department head, it was his responsibility to feel out potential hires, to figure out if they’d fit with his team or not, but he had a decent feeling with this one.

“Are you interested?”

“Fuck yes!”

Trixie had to hide a grin, Aurora practically beaming through the screen. She was very pretty with tan skin, white blonde hair and full brows, the striped shirt she was wearing fashionable and fun.

Aurora had an impressive portfolio, her references were decent, and most importantly, she seemed like someone Fame could be impressed with if given time and guidance.

“Oh fuck-” Aurora grimaced, the enthusiasm gone for a second before she recovered, trying to play it cool. “I mean yes. Yes I’d love that.”

“Great.” This time, Trixie couldn’t hold back the laugh, Aurora probably fitting right into his department if she could keep the attitude in check.

“Our legal department will take care of your visa,” Trixie jotted down that he’d have to talk to Rita, work permits always a massive pain in the ass, “but you’re starting January 10 either way, and hopefully you won’t have to work remotely for long.”

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Hot Wings and Hot Guys

Stiles works at a femboy Hooters. Officer Derek Hale just wants lunch.

 For @loveyprophet​ 

[AO3]

 “Remind me again, why do I do this?” Stiles asked, leaning on the varnished wood counter of the bar.

“Because you needed a job,” Lydia said, drying a glass and setting it aside behind the bar. “And because you have a body that rakes in the tips. Seriously, why did you hide all of that—” She gestured at Stiles’ body. “—under layers of baggy clothing for all of high school?”

“Because I was socially awkward and had no self esteem,” Stiles answered honestly.

“Well, take it from me, you had nothing to be shy about then and you sure as hell don’t have anything to be shy about now,” Lydia said, offering Stiles a sweet smile.

Stiles smiled back.

He had to admit, she was right. He had grown a lot, no longer the awkward lanky kid he used to be. He was still lean but his biceps were curved by muscles and his abs were left exposed by the crop top he wore with ‘HOOTERS’ printed across the chest in bold orange letters. His firm thighs were accentuated by the short orange shorts that hugged the curves of his butt.

What’s more, he wasn’t the clumsy, flailing, nervous mess he used to be. He still had a few accidents or bumped in to things, but he never would have thought he’d be able to balance plates and drinks on a tray the way he does now.

He turned and looked around the bar. The walls were covered in wooden panelling that matched the bar that ran along one of the walls. Behind the bar was a wall of glass bottles with colourful labels.  There were a few booths in the other side of the room and tables scattered across the open floor.

The bar was pretty quiet during lunch hours and Lydia would let Stiles sneak his textbooks into work so that he could study while it was quiet.

The bell above the door chimed, drawing Stiles back to reality.

He turned to see a young man standing by the doorway.

His raven black hair was cut short and slightly tousled and his strong jaw line was shadowed by a beard. His pale aventurine eyes were shadowed by dark circles, slightly unfocused as he stepped into the bar. He was dressed in the familiar beige uniform of the Beacon Hills Police Department, with a nameplate that read HALE, but the usual brown windcheater had been substituted for a worn black leather jacket.

Stiles stepped back from the bar and made his way over to the man, flashing a friendly smile as he greeted him. He showed him to a booth in the corner of the bar and offered him a menu.

“Thanks,” Officer Hale said quietly, glancing down at the menu for a few seconds. “Can I get a serve of original style chicken wings, a serve of smoky chicken wings and some curly fries?”

“Sure,” Stiles said, writing down the man’s order. “Would you like anything else?”

He shook his head and passed the menu back to Stiles. “That’s all, thanks.”

“No worries,” Stiles said cheerfully. “Coming right up.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles made his way back over to the bar, passing on the order. He picked up a bottle of water and a glass, balancing them onto of a tray as he carried it back to the table. He set the glass down and filled it before leaving the bottle on the table.

“Thank you,” Officer Hale said quietly, his voice drained and lethargic.

Stiles’ brow furrowed slightly in confusion as he turned away from the table and walked back to the bar. He set his tray down on the counter and turned back to look at the man.

He hadn’t so much as looked up since he walked through the door.

Stiles watched him for a moment before turning back to the bar.

One of the cooks called him over, setting the plates of food down on one of the black serving trays.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, lifting the tray and balancing it.

He carried the meal over to the booth where Officer Hale sat.

“Here you are. One serve of original chicken wings, one serve of smoky chicken wings and a late of curly fries,” Stiles said cheerfully, setting the plates down on the table.

The man straightened at the sight of the plates in front of him, like a predator spotting their prey.

“Thank you,” he said quickly, reaching for the first plate.

It looked delicious. The plate of original recipe chicken wings were fired to a golden brown, the fried breadcrumb batter crunching as he bit into it.

The curly fries were crispy and the smell of the freshly fried chips flooded the man’s senses.

The smoky chicken wings were glazed in a deep brown sauce, dripping from the wings and trickling down his fingers as he picked them up. The sauce dripped down his chin, coating his beard as he ate.

He didn’t care how uncivilised he looked; he was starving.

Slowly, the fog of hunger and fatigue began to clear from his mind.

He lifted another smoky barbecue chicken wing to his lips, biting into it as he sat back in his seat and looked around.

His eyes fell upon the waiter who stood a few meters away from him, choking on his chicken.

The young man was bent over the edge of a table as he wiped it down, his short orange shorts tightening around the curves of his firm ass.

Derek couldn’t help it; his eyes trailed down the rest of his body: his firm thighs, the curves of his legs, the moles that charted constellations across his skin like stars in the sky, the dip of his lower back.

Derek coughed as he tried to clear his throat.

The waiter seemed to notice, setting down the cloth as he turned and walked back over to Derek’s table.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, his dark brown eyes full of worry as he looked at the man.

Derek froze, looking up at the young man like a deer caught in the headlights. He felt his face burn bright red as he stared up at the waiter.

His dark hair was slightly tousled, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling like pools of gold as they caught the light. His skin was as pale as moonlight and a few moles were scattered across his face. He was dressed in a white crop top that stopped just before his abs and a pair of short orange shorts that accentuated his hips, thighs and butt.

He was absolutely stunning.

A moment later, he realised what he probably looked like—sauce dripping down his face, rude and uncivilised—and a feeling of dread settling in his chest.

Stiles let out a quiet chuckle, reaching for one of the napkins on the table and gently wiping away some of the sauce that dripped down Derek’s face.

“Uh, thank you,” Derek said, shaking himself out of his stupor. He cleared his throat slightly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe how rude I’ve been.”

“Not at all,” Stiles reassured him, offering him a kind smile.

“I just got off a twelve hour shift and I didn’t get a break, so I haven’t had anything to eat since before my shift,” Derek tried to explain. “And I’m so incredibly sorry for how rude I’ve been to you.”

“To me?” Stiles repeated back, slightly confused.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you or brush you off, and I’m sorry if I came off as rude or abrasive,” Derek explained.

“No apology needed.”

Derek bowed his head, feeling ashamed of himself.

Stiles shook it and passed Derek the napkin.

Derek cleaned himself up, wiping down his face and his sticky fingers.

“I’m Stiles,” the young man introduced himself, his face lighting up with a sweet smile.

“I’m Derek,” he replied, holding out his hand.

Stiles shook Derek’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Derek.”

Derek returned the smile.

“If you’re still hungry, Lydia makes the best caramel fudge cheesecake,” Stiles offered. “On the house.”

“That sounds delicious,” Derek said.

“I’ll bring it right over,” Stiles said, clearing away the empty plates that sat in front of Derek.

He carried them back to the kitchen, setting them down as Lydia plated up a slice of caramel fudge cheesecake.

“So…” Lydia prompted as she finished plating up the cheesecake and set it down on the black serving tray.

“So, what?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, come on, Stiles. He’s cute and he’s clearly into you.”

Stiles scoffed, screwing up his face in disbelief.

Lydia raised her hands in a mock surrender, letting the argument fall away.

Stiles picked up the serving tray and carried it out to the table. He set the cake down in front of Derek, who thanked him quietly. He returned the serving tray to the bar and continued to clean down the tables, ready for the rush of patrons that would come in a few hours.

When Derek had finished, Stiles gave him the bill.

“This may sound odd, but can we start again?”

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“Because I’d like to make a better first impression,” Derek admitted.

“Alright,” Stiles agreed.

“How does dinner sound?” Derek suggested. “Saturday?”

“I’ll have to see what I’m working.”

“You can have the day off!” Lydia shouted from the kitchen.

Stiles felt his cheeks warm with a blush. He smiled, trying to hide his embarrassment and hold back a laugh as he said, “Saturday it is.”

Derek paid his bill, leaving a very generous tip before heading towards the door.

“Derek,” Stiles called after him.

Derek stopped, turning back to Stiles.

Stiles pulled out his notepad, quickly writing something down before tearing out the page and folding it over.

“You forgot this,” Stiles said, walking over to Derek’s side and holding out the folded piece of paper.

Derek’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion as he took the piece of paper. He unfolded it, looking down at the scrawl of chicken-scratch handwriting that read Stiles, and below it was a phone number.

A soft rosy pink blush coloured Derek’s cheeks as he folded the note over again. He smiled bashfully at Stiles. “Thank you.”

Stiles smiled in return. “See you Saturday.”

Derek’s smile softened as he repeated it back, “See you Saturday.”

[dylanxmin]

painkiller ∣ 5 ∣ j.hs

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; little high on angst, swearings, mention of abortion, mention of adoption, mention of miscarriage, unedited(rlly sorry about this)

word count; 5k+

rating; nc17

a/n; heyyy, it’s been a month since i last update this story and i only blame my finals, my sudden lost of muse, and some side effects of my life but there it is, freshly served, angsty episode!! ion know how did this come out but im feeling positive for the next episode! so,,,, hope you all enjoy reading this part, and as always, i do really appreciate a little comment soooo... lol, love y’all  ♡

previous ➭ ˚masterlist˚ ➭ next

taglist; @xxluckydreamsxx​ ,, @parkminhee​

∣ send me an ask if you want to be on the tag list ∣

‘‘Yes, can we have a brief explanation about the story of our current project?’’ 

‘‘Miss Y/N?’’ 

‘‘Y/N?’’ 

Light, red and yellow mixes and crushes down when something hard nudges at your shoulder and brings you the reality. Shake of your body startles Namjoon, who was nudging your shoulder to wake you up. Pairs of eyes currently stares at you, wide, curious and surprised, too, as no one expects you to fall asleep in the middle of an important meeting. But, you did anyway. Surprising yourself with such an action, yet you lost control of your sleep schedule way before this meeting, so you weren’t that ashamed as the sleep still lingers around your head. 

Blinking, blinking, blinking for a couple of times before your vision loses its blur, and the faces look way better to your own eyes. Shock still fresh on their faces, a weird sound rises by your throat as you try to clean it before talking. Namjoon holds his laugh back, but you can see it in the redness of his cheeks and the veins that struggle under his skin. 

‘‘I-’’ you clear your throat, once again as it comes hoarse from sleeping. ‘‘I’m sorry, can you say it again?’’ Mr. Lee stares directly into your eyes, he opens his mouth but closes again. And you know you will try to drown yourself in the sink if the corner of his mouth hasn't curled up. 

You sigh, before he asks again, and listens to your explanation. You try to keep it smooth, and once you start to talk about your work, all the sleep leaves your head, enthusiasm fills it place. 

You love your work. Falling asleep doesn’t mean the opposite. 

‘‘I swear to god if you won’t stop laughing, Kim-’’ 

‘‘But..- but you told the story of our new game, drool drying on your chin, with such an enthusiastic manner.’’ Namjoon’s giggles cut himself, palm hangs in the air, other on his knee. A manager who is in his thirties enjoys his coworkers suffer, laughs his lungs off. Such a mature man. You sigh, hand curled around the cup full of water for you to go to the bathroom after. Countless times. 

Fingertips pinching the tip of your brows, you stand on the kitchen side of your office. Shame still red on your face, you barely able to hold yourself back from either crying or smashing the cup on your friend’s head. Which, you like the last option very much. It’s a shame that you possibly couldn’t do that here. Maybe later, on one of your movie nights. 

‘‘I think it was cute, though.’’ the man in his much more formal clothes rather than his usual sweatpants and his shirt enters the kitchen side. Brown hair brushed neatly on the left side, his features look good. ‘‘Don’t pressure yourself anymore. I’m sure they are used to these things.’’ 

‘‘Thank you for helping my self-reliance to gather itself, but I don’t think it’s that simple, Damien.’’ imitating his smile, even though it’s more faint then he has, you sigh once again. Taking a spot on the table, you let your head fall on it. ‘‘I was literally drooling all over myself. Ugh… such a mess.’’ 

Another laugh escapes by Namjoon’s lips, but he pats your head also. ‘‘Damien is right. You know Jihoon and Yeona will be cool about this.’’ 

You scoff. ‘‘Yeah, but I don’t refer to them by their first names as they are the Ceo’s of this company. Like you,’’ 

‘‘Then you shouldn’t refer to me with my name, too, as I’m your boss.’’ an annoying smirk alive on his mouth, he swipes his body on the table. Gulping down his coffee, his stares never leaves you. Something hot, almost burning coils in your chest. Reminding you red, as you stare at him back. Mouth wrinkled, your breath felt heavy. 

It was anger and you didn’t know how to pressure it back where it came from. Even before your pregnancy, you weren’t good with handling your emotions, but now. With so many hormones not knowing what to do, you were even worse. Sudden crying sessions, constant fury always ready to burst out, and the sneaky, dark anxiety getting you at the worst moment, where you were alone and in the dark. It was hard, and too much. Even before being pregnant, and while being pregnant. You weren’t good with them. 

‘‘You know what, I decide not to cook for you anymore.’’ heartbreak flashes in Namjoon eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘‘You can buy your own chicken breast from somewhere and eat that shitty sauce.’’ 

‘‘Ouch..’’ Damien who is currently watching the cold vibrations coming from you, stays silent after your gaze lands on him. He is scared, and not ready to be the next target of your stinging tongue. Though, it doesn’t last that long. 

Once you see the tremble of Namjoon’s lips, and his hug follows his sorry’s, your coldness melts away. Shame creeps back, sits heavy as you lower your head on the table. But before you can dive in your bad scenarios in your head, brutal yet familiar bickering starts when Nara enters the kitchen, after she takes her place on the table. Her nose crinkled with disgust while waiting for Namjoon to end his insults, only to throw another to him. Damien tries to cut them off, but it’s useless as he gives up and rests his back on his chair. Hesitant stares gather on you, only to tear them apart while you pretend like you didn’t notice. 

Yet, you don’t want to suffocate yourself with your thoughts, you raise your head, eyes meeting with the brown haired man. Because you don’t and probably can’t break that cold war between your friend and Nara, you find your escape on Damien. 

‘‘So, we have to prepare a meeting for you to put a suit on?’’ cocking your brow high, you ask. His surprise fades after a moment of waiting. Maybe because you aren’t the warmest person or because of the effect of your friends that filled your head with the idea of him having some feelings for you, you never attempt to talk with him first. Not that he isn’t a decent man, but more likely, you weren’t into him and did not want to make a wrong move. For him to get the wrong idea. 

But maybe you are being stupid for believing your delusinal friends about his feelings, and he just wants to be friendly. Though, it’s good to not risk anything, right?

‘‘Suits just not my type, and also, who is wearing these other than him?’’ Damien points Namjoon, who is in a deep, hurtful conversation with your other coworker. You tear your eyes from him to land on Damien once again, his smiling this time. Wide, eyes imitating it. ‘‘Also, doesn’t it hurt your feet? You weren’t wearing heels for a long time.’’ 

After he mentions it, your feet start to pulse with pain. Embarrassment clouded all over your other senses, but his words bring them back. And you wrinkle your face in pain. Of course, it hurts. How it won’t hurt while your feet try to set themselves free by growing bigger inside of its cage and the process isn’t an easy one. Though, these whining are the last thing for your coworker to hear so you simply go with a soft smile. 

‘‘Yeah, a bit but nothing I can’t handle.’’ 

‘‘Oh okay then. Good to hear.’’ he leans closer, eyes gleaming like a child in his pre-mischievous stage. ‘‘Just in case, I have a pair of nice sneakers waiting in my closet. All comfy and less deadly.’’ 

Mirroring the act, you also get close to him. Palm covering the side of your curled mouth, ‘‘I will consider it, but why are you acting like you were selling drugs?’’ whispering the half of your words, you cocked your head aside, watching his face wrinkle due to his growing smile. And seeing him from this side, you realise how good looking he is. Radiant smile adds more point to his charisma as he does, eyes narrow but curls cutely on the ends, and for a second you just stare at his side profile. His spotless skin dips on the cheek as his dimple wants to show off. Thankfully, when he starts to talk the silvery sheet goes away, to your luck. 

‘‘Well, we won’t want other heel wearers to come at my desk for my fancy shoes, right?’’ 

Nodding, you point your finger at him as if he made a good point. ‘‘I see… Of course we wouldn’t want that, of course.’’ 

After the short break, everyone turned in their work the same as you. And you find yourself so tired after talking about the details of the story of your current game with Heejin. Trying to find reliable reasons and motives is hard for some time, as you continue to work on the specific character’s choices in the game, and why and exactly how they should do is sometimes irksome even when you have someone who tries really hard to help you. Yet, you know you can’t put all the weight on Heejin’s shoulders as the poor woman barely had some sleep because of the pre-cold effect. 

When she sneezed for the fourth time in the last five minutes, you had to stop and be sure of her well being. Putting your palm on her clothed arm, you mimicked a smile to look sympathetic rather than annoyed. Even though you were a little bit. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to know that. 

‘‘I know I asked this before but are you sure you are okay? Maybe you should take a rest for the rest of the day. Obviously, you need some.’’ 

She looks hesitant at first, eyes widens at your words but she covers it with a faint smile and nods. ‘‘Oh, I’m okay, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me.’’ Heejin bites down her lip before continuing again. ‘‘Did I annoy you? I’m sorry, I just took a pill, so I think that will make me better in a couple of minutes.’’ 

‘‘No, no…’’ pulling your hands in the air, you shake your head in denial. It did bother you but not much for her to apologize for being sick. ‘‘I just wanted to check on you, I’m not… disturbed. It’s okay.’’ 

Your half reassurance works barely, as she tries to lower the voice of her sneezes after that. And everytime, a drip adds to your growing guilt. As Heejin is younger than you for three years, and you have been working here longer than her, it puts some stairs between you two and now with that, you fix the ice between you two. The ice that you have been trying to melt from the first day she was here, and now, thanks to your pregnancy hormones, it started to build once again. Not just with Heejin, but everyone around you was walking on eggshells around you as your rage came out of nowhere, so sudden that sometimes it even shocks you. But for a stupid reason - well, it’s not stupid as you are pregnant and that played with your emotions -, you couldn’t control the sudden change of your feelings. 

One second being calm and the other being tense did tire you for sure as senses flow through every nerve you have. Breathing exercises merely helped, and that led you to staying away from the people around you. As sometimes words come out rude before you can realise. And nobody deserves that kind of attitude, even the ones you know from your childhood. 

For that reason, you turned down Taehyung’s offer to come with you as you know that owing to his nature, he will do something silly to make you angry or stressed even when he does it with all his good intentions. Some days, even when you are in your usual state you can’t stop being bothered by him, and you had no intentions to taste it today. Which, nothing was normal in your current mental state, so that’s for the best. 

Driving past the now familiar streets, you learned a new thing: Driving with a jean without opening its button can be hard, as you have to undo the button while your stomach growls in need. While your stomach become visible, looking like you ate too much for your stomach to handle, sudden thirst for stupid cravings increased day by day. Sadly, it affected your friends as much as you. 

In the middle of night, you woke Yoongi up for him to get you apples, pickles for Taehyung and last but not least, ice cream for Namjoon. As your cravings decide to choose the oddest times, three of them find the solution to fill your fridge until there is no space left. Well, after you sat on your kitchen floor and cried they had to eat some of them with you, as they basically called you fat by doing that, and paid for it. For them, they just wanted to make sure you get what you want but at this point, what they thought barely mattered. 

‘‘Okay, that was tiring.’’ you whispered through your exhale, while parking the car. For the records, parking turned into a hell show for you as going further and back, further and back, further, further and back has your nerves strain like a string. Though, you never liked it anyway. You were ready to leave your car, but the ringtone of your phone cut the act. 

‘‘Hey, mom.’’ 

‘‘Nope. Your voice sounds the same, rather than I thought so.’’ sighing, you brushed your face by your palm. Words like a needle on the skin, your mother always knew how to use them. ‘‘Well don’t ‘ahhh’ at me. As we barely speak, I obviously expect to forget your voice, tell me if I’m wrong.’’ 

Nodding as if she is able to see you through the phone, you put your head on the wheel. She was annoyed as it was very clear by her high and thin tone. 

‘‘Yes, Ma’am.’’ your reply earned another high pitched warning from her so you had to calm her between your giggles. ‘‘Okay, okay… You’re right, Mama. I should call you more but you know work and everything keeps me busy. But I will try my best, promise.’’ 

‘‘Apology accepted. But even though I know you prefer to talk about work, and the video thing you adore talking about, I’m most likely interested in my baby’s baby. So, how’s the pregnancy going?’’ 

This is the exact reason why you didn’t call her more than you did. As she is very interested in your life and interior with it, of course pregnancy will be the same. And you couldn’t ignore the things you can as she will talk about them, will want to know about them and give some advice from her past experiences. Not that you will need any of them, but of course as you postponed everything, you did the same thing to this topic, too, and left your mother in the dark. You will run as far as you can. 

‘‘They called games, not video thing but it’s your choice.’’ while thinking of it itched your tongue, you swallowed all the tensing thoughts down, and ready yourself to talk. ‘‘And the… pregnancy is going good if we don’t count the constant eating, peeing, crying, being tired twenty-four-seven, not fitting in my favorite clothes and all the pain it put me through.’’ 

She laughs as if you just told the funniest joke she heard. Cocking your brows, you run through what you said to make her laugh this much to fail. 

‘‘Ohhh, my baby. Stop talking about this as the things are all bad. You have a baby in your belly, your baby. They will become your everything, and mostly good things because you will love them more than anything you can. Believe me, I could die in return for your laugh. A bubbly, vivid laugh. Ahh… remembering it made me soft, right now.’’ 

‘‘Trying to be unbiased about gender, I see?’’ 

‘‘Well, I don’t want to affect the baby.’’ 

Though you want so bad to ask how that could actually affect the baby, you stay silent. All the baby talk is already pulling you down, it is better if you can stay out of the gender topic as much as you can. Not that it mattered, you thought. 

‘‘What do you mean? Why it wouldn’t matter darling?’’ 

Huh? 

Clearly, you weren’t thinking, but murmuring under your breath as your mom heard it. When you hit your head on the wheel, the horn startles you both. Fixing your posture, you answered your mother’s hurried question. 

‘‘It was horn, I’m in the car. Yes, yes I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m at the hospital- No, no- Mom, for the appointment. Yes… yes, for the baby. I will talk to you later, okay? I will call, I promise- Yes, I promise. Okay, love you, too.’’ 

You sigh once again. A loud one. 

You do hate lying to the woman who would do anything you want, but you know she is not ready to lose her grandchild, yet. You are not ready for the speech you will receive, also. Not that it will be harsh or critical, you just are not ready to accept the whole thing. Yes, you still had problems with the whole pregnancy thing even though you made your mind with adoption. You still had thirty weeks to go, and that won’t go fast. Not in a normal time, or in the pregnancy. 

Head full of blurring thoughts, you missed the man who shakes his hand from afar. The black haired man’s smile faded as you passed by his side without sparing a glance. Too busy with thinking how to calm your mother after you give her the news. The news that she won’t have a grandchild anytime soon. Fuck… that’s gonna be hard. 

Well, maybe not hard as much as the door you decide to welcome it with your face rather than opening. A loud thud, and muffled curse under your breath, instinctively you checked your nose if there is more than the pain you feel, as there is no blood you calm down, shoulders drop their usual place. Apparently, you were conscious enough to lead yourself to the floor where your doctor’s office, past the stairs, and find his door but when it comes to open the door you fail. Tears sit on your eyelids at once as you close them due to the pain that crushes your sight. Trying to massage your nose bridge barely helps but giving it a try won’t hurt, you think. 

‘‘Oh my, are you okay?’’ from your closed and blurred eyesight, you can’t choose who is the one talking but his voice lets you know that he is your doctor, Seokjin. ‘‘I heard a loud thug but couldn’t understand it was a human until you groaned. Are you okay, you bumped your nose? Let me get a look at that.’’ 

Not forgetting to thank him while he guides you inside his office, now you are able to open your eyes and set the tears free as they go down. Seokjin sits you on the white sheeted chair, handles your head to go right and left as he scans your face and nose behind creased eyes. He looks really concerned, more than you, and somehow it puts you on a stage where you feel like you have to make him sure that you were okay and nothing was wrong. It still feels weird when someone gets concerned over you more than yourself, as who would care for someone more than one’s self so it’s still vague. 

‘‘I-I’m actually okay. I didn’t hit that hard as it sounds, it doesn’t even bleed so…’’ wry smile is all you offer him as your voice trails down when his eyes meet with yours, a bit keen rather than you thought they will. 

Seokjin sighs with a line between his brows but he lets go, and when he puts a decent distance between you and himself, professionalism settles in his features as he adjusts his tie. 

‘‘It does look okay, but make sure you put some ice when you can as it could leave a bruise behind.’’ he smiles, both sweet and very technically. As he practiced it for every client he had and now performing it without any difficulties. It looks natural. ‘‘So, tell me how are you feeling? You should still have the early pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness, sleep issues, and more likely they will hang around for a few more weeks. But it’s more important if you have a symptom that comes unnatural or unbearably painful for you?’’ 

After taking two deep breaths, you feel ready to give him a reply. Nose still throbs by the hit but it’s faint now. 

‘‘Uhm…- yeah, other than the ‘expected’ symptoms, I don’t feel like something is wrong, or not supposed to happen. No more painful urination, though I still need it frequently.’’ you grimace lightly as you share, shifting a bit. ‘‘But yeah, I’m okay.’’ you try to wipe the fresh embarrassment with the non glowing smile you had in your storage. Probably he should but you still don’t know if he needs to know that you choose adoption. As he is your doctor, and the one who is taking care of you and the baby, you know that he must know about it, but unpleasant eerie stops you from doing what you should.  

Old habits die hard, that’s for sure. 

‘‘Excellent. It’s good to hear that everything is going on it’s way, and today, as now you are in the tenth week of your pregnancy, I’m recommending you a genetic test in case there is any birth defect.’’ 

‘‘What is that?’’ even though Seokjin was done with talking, you utter so fast that it feels like you interrupted him, as you shut your mouth with wrinkled brows. It was just getting tiring day by day with all of these tests, things to do and not to do, being extra careful because you have another living creature in you to take care, more than yourself. No more selfish, damaging, stupid choices can be done as your body no longer belonged to you. At least not only to you and this was really, really tiresome. 

As he was expecting this, Seokjin comes up with some papers as you can understand them. ‘‘As I said before, it’s a test to acknowledge any kind of defect in the baby. These tests take two forms: screening tests and diagnostic tests. And a screening test tells you the likelihood that your baby could have a birth defect; a diagnostic test tells you with more than ninety nine percent certainty whether the baby has the disorder.’’ He explains more as you take the papers from him, scanning the words but they are almost identical as Seokjin continues with his further explanation. The blank eerie gets heavier and heavier the further he talks, and when he comes to the risks, it feels like your pulse palpitates on your throat. Tearing your eyes from the papers that sit on your lap, you stare at the man who is still talking. 

‘‘There is small risk of miscarriage, that’s why you need to carefully consider tha advantages and the disadvantages of these test before you make any decision, even it’s small.’’ 

A slap to the face, a weight falls on your stomach after Seokjin is done with his statement. Mouth hangs open, you stay still, silent as the Doctor waits patiently, now he is behind his desk, sitting his hands intertwined. As if he knows the new information would put a heavy dullness in you as he searches your every movement, yet you gave him hardly any. 

‘‘Do I… have to?’’ 

The idea of taking these tests would be tiring is there but the cause of your nausea is not just that. More likely, it’s the idea of losing something. Even though that something doesn’t belong to you because you never wanted it, and nothing has changed since then. Whether it's the guilt of knowing everything caused because of your recklessness, or it’s because you feel obligated to give the baby a good life due to your current maternal instincts - you hardly say you had one -, whether it’s beside you or far away from you, you feel the suffocating necessity. Even if the risk has one percent chance, you can’t take it. Maybe it’s odd to push your one percent chance to become free with the back of a hand, but that would be running away, and both of you already had one runner in your lives, and the baby wouldn’t need another. 

‘‘I know it sounds scary but you can take your time, you don’t have to do it now. You can search it a bit more about the cons and pros but I never had any problems with my former clients if you need any consolation. And you can always ask for me more.’’ 

Chewing your bottom lip, you still look at him in the eye like you need to give him an answer. You do trust your doctor but that doesn’t mean that you purposely rejected the idea of getting abortion while you deal with an unwanted pregnancy only to come across with a risk of miscarriage. Of course it is always there whether you do the test or not, but that's nearly a consolation. 

Nodding, you put all the papers in your bag before leaving the doctor’s office. Biding your goodbyes after ending with this week control. 

You come to the hospital with a dazed head, and you were going to leave it even more wrecked. But you just needed some air, somewhere to ease the wave of emotions that is going through your head. To catch your breath, you adjust your route to the cafeteria in the outdoors. Maybe, that could help you somehow. 

Not temporarily, but taking fresh air in your lungs somehow helped you. The phone call you had with Taehyung while you were at the verge of tears, too, and you sit in the cafeteria during all of these. Mimicking the doctor's words to your friend and Taehyung had listened to you, hang on your every word as much as he can on the other side of the line. Tried to console you, said that things will be alright and nothing bad will happen as if he was as sure as his name. And momentarily, you believed him. Both because you needed it, and he was being a good friend and you didn’t want him to feel useless. 

For good or ill, now, your heart is resting in ease. 

Well at least it was until you see a glimpse of dark uniform in the corner of the wall, and then a familiar face you haven’t seen in a while. A smile that softly shaped as heart, causing your heart to palpitate fast but in a much different way than the news you learned today, or the idea of your mother's future disappointment. It’s more thrilling and in a way even scarier than the other two options. As the opposite of how familiar the face is, the reason for your heart going this insane was abrupt. Even odd when you think the very less time you spent with the owner of the familiar face, yet it was there, forcing you to gulp down, consume every emotion he forced you to feel. 

Contrary to what you expect - and you didn’t know why you were expecting him to be happy after seeing you - his face falls, the shape of heart shutters around his mouth. And to your shock, it put needles somewhere near to your chest. 

The last time you saw him, the atmosphere was intense as you shared things that normally you wouldn’t do with a partially stranger but with him even though feelings were gloomy, you weren’t uneasy. And to you, when he was consoling you, internalizing what you were telling him, he wasn’t disturbed. At least he didn't look like that. But, the more you size him up, the more you get sure of his strange disturbance. And it did burn. Smoke choked you down, and put tears on your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones…

Not aware of your action, you caught your hand in the air, in the middle of a shake as Hoseok greeted you by the tiny bow of his head. And expecting more cutted harsly, as a knife in the gut. 

Whether it’s because of your blind act, or whether he feels obligated, Hoseok comes closer to the table you were sitting, leaving the person behind he was talking to before he saw you. With every step, you breathe another air to gather your confidence a bit high, but it’s useless as your hands start to tremble under the table, fortunately away from his sight. 

‘‘H-hi,’’ no matter how much Hoseok tries to sound friendly, it’s not, and you can hear in his voice as it comes out broken. His eyes are still deep and candid but not glowing the way it fascinated you when you first saw him. Still, you greeted him with a tight smile, wave of your hand small. 

‘‘Take a seat-’’ pointing the available chair, you cut yourself to say something else. To correct your words. ‘‘I mean if you want… of course,’’ 

To your surprise, he holds the chair to adjust for him to sit on. But everything feels so forced and awkward that you can’t stop wondering if you said something to him and cause him to feel uncomfortable around you. Your brain works so hard to scan the memories of that day, but you fail to find something so disturbing to make Hoseok shift in his seat, a line between his brows and a noticeably insincere smile. 

It takes minutes for someone to talk first and scare the clouds away only for a moment. 

‘‘Are you waiting for your appointment or has it already finished?’’ 

‘‘Ah, yeah, it’s done. I just needed to take a moment and fresh air because…’’ your voice eventually trailed off as you realised he just asked to look friendly and probably doesn’t want to hear your whelming emotions anymore. ‘‘of stuffs, you know.’’ 

Hoseok nods, his mouth thin as a line, and even though it shouldn’t, it breaks your heart. Yes, this man owes you nothing, and of course he doesn’t have to sit there and listen to how sorry and depressed you feel over the things doctor Seokjin have told you, but it still hurts to see him this… joyless. The curiosity burns deep and wild as you desperately want to know what the hell you did to make him this anxious, but your mind barely helps as you wander in the empty field. 

‘‘I should probably get going-’’ 

‘‘It’s been a while-’’

Words clashing and drowning one another, silence takes over and Hoseok abruptly stops above his chair as he was about to leave before you parted him. And now he looks at you with wide eyes, fear in his chest growing big as your bottom lip trembles for only a second but he catches it. 

He sits back on his seat with hands on the air. ‘‘Oh, yeah, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.’’ he says but you know it’s out of pity, and you would rather die than crumbling under his gaze. So you shake your head with a false smile, though hammers work in your chest. 

‘‘Ah, don’t mind me. Go ahead, you are probably busy and have so much to do. So, you can leave, seriously.’’ 

‘‘No-, no, no, Y/N. I’m sorry, I want to stay and talk to you, really. I really am sorry for acting rude.’’ 

Maybe because the look on his face, or the warm tone of his voice, you decide not to pressure him to leave after you ask if he really wants it for a second time. But he nods and smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes, a hot pink blossoms in you. 

Though, before either of you can say anything, a touch at your back stops you. You hear the breathy voice before you turn your head. ‘‘Ahh, finally I found... you. Care to explain why you are-...not picking your phone?’’ 

And when you turn over, you see a panthing Yoongi. His hand on his knee and looks at you with concerned gaze. Then, they leave you only to land on the man on the other side of the table, and Yoongi’s eyes go wide. 

He extends his hand in a non-moving shake to the air. ‘‘Oh, hi. Sorry to butt in.’’ he stretches his hand towards him, the ghost of a smile appears on his lips. ‘‘It’s Yoongi,’’ 

Voice deep, and it takes long to draw out when the man in dark uniform mirrors the act. ‘‘Hoseok.’’ 

[hookedonapirate]

Book Update

If you've noticed I've been updating my cs fics a lot lately, it's because I had to take a break from my original fic. And I've kind of been discouraged lately because when I worked on my first book, Follow My Lead, I got stuck for a whole year where I was unable to write one word for it. And I was afraid the same thing would happen for this one I'm work on. Last time, I wasn't able to push forward with the story until I scrapped the outline. So I didn't use an outline this time.

Then I got to thinking yesturday, maybe that's why I was stuck. Because each story will be different and will not always require the same process, for me at least. Some people can't write with outlines and some can't write without them. When I'm writing Cs, I normally don't need an outline because it comes so much easier to me because I'm already connected with the characters so the stories pretty much write themselves. But that's what I struggle with when writing original fics. So, for those of you who write or plan to write fics, either original or fanfic or anything with characters, it's very important to CONNECT with your characters first. It is essential and will save you a lot of time and energy and headaches, and will be much less stressful and mentally draining.

Anywho, what I'm trying to say is I started outlining for this and was able to get through the obstacles I had before. So to celebrate having a successful writing day for this book, I'd like to share a sneak peek.

In this sneak peek, I mention the rule of three and it's inspired by a conversation I had with people at work. Before someone pointed this out, I never realized how much we actually utilize the rule of three. Then I did some research and it turned out to be perfect for the chapter I'm writing.

Teaser

“I have to say, it’s refreshing to get to talk about the exhibits with someone.”

She looks at me with with an arched brow. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well, one, because I usually come here alone, and two, because when I came here with my ex, she had her face buried in her phone the entire time. So it was pretty much as if I went alone. Mind you, she was the one who suggested coming here. The only reason I never suggested it was because I thought she'd be bored.”

Her brows furrow, as though she’s baffled by this. “Why come to The Met just to be on your phone the entire time? That’s like going to Disney Land and waiting in the car. Or going to Universal Studios and not visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.”

My eyes widen in excitement. “You’re a Harry Potter fan?”

She nods. “Are you kidding? My sister and I are diehards.”

"The books or movies?"

"Both." 

I chuckle and wag a finger at her. “I knew I liked you.”

She laughs. “I'm no Seer, but I think a Harry Potter marathon might be in our future.”

“And The Stand?” I add.

“And The Big Bang.”

“Okay, fine,” I chuckle. “But aren’t there like twelve seasons?”

She nods matter of factly. “279 episodes to be exact.”

I scratch my head in uncertainty, not knowing if I can sit through that many episodes of a show I don’t really care for.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she laughs. “It’s a lot.”

“No, I’ll give it a try. Who knows, I might actually like the damn show.”

“You will, I promise.”

“Well, how about this - I’ll watch the first three episodes, and if I still don’t like it, I don't have to continue,” I suggest, certain I can sit through three episodes of pretty much anything. 

“Okay, but why three? Won't you know whether you like it or not after the first episode?"

"Nope."

She narrows her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

I shrug. “The rule of three.” 

She cocks a brow. “Rule of three?”

“Yeah, we subconsciously apply it to most things in life, including the way we make decisions." When she looks at me like I just grew two heads, I expand. "The average person typically gives something or someone at most three chances before they've made up their mind about whether or not they'll stick with it. If we’re not hooked by the third joke of a standup show or the third chapter of a book or the third date with the same person, we're usually emotionally done with it at that point. As they say in baseball, three strikes you’re out."

She nods. "And third time’s a charm?"

I point a finger at her. "Exactly. If something isn’t successful after the first couple times, chances are it will be the third try. So if it's not successful after three, it’s not meant to be.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Huh, I never thought of the number three as an unspoken rule before.”

“Yeah, it works for a lot of things in life. Including survival. You can survive three minutes without breathable air or in icy water, you can survive three hours in a harsh environment, you can survive three days without drinkable water and you can survive three weeks without food. In the Marines, we lived by the rule of three when it came to survival tactics and completing tasks. Worrying about more than three things can be confusing or overwhelming. And regarding organizational structure, officers usually have fire teams of three or squads of three teams and so forth. You see trios in a lot of stories and movies, too - The Three Musketeers, Three little pigs, The Three Stooges. The Declaration of Independence has three main purposes and uses the phrase, Life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. There are a lot of other famous quotes that use clusters of three. Love, honor and obey. I came, I saw, I conquered. Stop, drop and roll. There are three meals a day, and three-course meals.” I pause when I realize I’m rambling. “I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you...if I haven’t already.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all. It's interesting because you’re right; we do live by the rule of three.” She bites her bottom lip, pondering that thought for a moment. “So, do we usually apply that rule to sex, too? Like if the first three dates are successful, is that when a person makes up their mind to sleep with the other person?”

My cheeks heat and I chuckle, trying to ignore the nerves in my stomach. I definitely wasn't expecting that question. Certainly not from her. She just seems quiet, a little shy and kind of reserved. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. This is the same woman who invited me into the ladies' room at the diner for a hot, steamy makeout session.

Fuck.

I have to shake the thoughts out of my mind, otherwise I'll be hard as a fucking rock until I drop her off. "Well, I can't speak for women, but I think men typically decide after the first date. Sometimes long before a first date is even established. Scratch that. Definitely before that."

A shy smile tugs at her lips as she looks away, her cheeks painted with an adorable shade of rosy red. “Sorry, it's just been a while since I've dated. My last boyfriend was my highschool sweetheart."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we started dating when we were both seventeen and were together for five years. I haven't dated anyone since we broke up."

"Wow. That is a long time. As far as your question goes, I don't know if the rule of three applies in this case, regardless of gender." I scratch my head nervously, trying to answer her without saying something stupid, but it's extremely hard when her question painted a very vivid picture in my mind. 

Extremely hard, indeed. 

"I mean, uh...it doesn't have to? That's up to you." I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts straight. "The point I was making before was, if I don’t like The Big Bang Theory by the third episode, chances are I won’t like the rest of the series."

"Yeah, I get it now," she laughs.

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