#and the sooner i finish my work the sooner i can make fried rice for dinner. FRIED RICE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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heartorbit · 2 months ago
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billions must yuri
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wonubb · 2 years ago
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Excited for In the Soop 2. The posts in Weverse are definitely from their trip. I can’t wait! SVT helps me keep it together. Days are tough right now but there’s always something to be thankful for. Thanks to you who are leaving a heart on my posts. Keep fighting! You’ll make it. ☺️
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It’s been 3 days since you last received a message from Cheol. That conversation surely didn’t go well if you look at his last text message, ‘Fine, do whatever you want. Don’t bother coming to Korea anymore, I now understand that I am not your priority. Bye, Y/N.’
You had fought about you not being able to go back to Korea sooner due to work. He really didn’t give you much time to explain though. After saying you can’t go back anytime sooner, he dropped the call and sent you this text. What you were unable to explain is that your flight was moved only for another week.
You sighed and put your phone down. He’s also not answering your calls so you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing right now. You heard a notification sound and quickly picked your phone up. It’s from Weverse and your boyfriend just posted a picture of kimchi fried rice and egg asking ‘who wants to eat with me?’
You felt relieved that he’s okay and eating well. Without thinking twice, you commented, ‘Me, you can eat with me any time of the day, I will be there.’ A tear fell from your eye and you didn’t realize until now just how much you miss him. There are now thousands of comments under his post. You smiled bitterly knowing that he might not see you comment. You allowed yourself to cry some more and you felt a little better after a few minutes.
Another notification came and now, it is for a text message. Finally. You felt teary again while reading ‘Hey baby, I am so sorry for my last message. I want to see you and hear your voice. Can I call you right now?’ You immediately typed a reply and then your phone is ringing.
‘Hi love, I am sorry for being a jerk and not letting you talk. I just want to be with you again. I know it’s not an excuse but… forgive me please,’ he was intently looking at his phone trying to make eye contact. ‘I’m sorry too, Cheol for not explaining it well. My flight is late for just a week you know. You wouldn’t notice the days that I’m not there. Seems like you’re filming ITS. Who cooked your food?’ ‘I did! Well, with a little help from the boys and I mean Mingyu and DK. But hey it’s a hit. They loved it!’ He proudly said while showing the pile of dishes on the sink. At the side you can slightly see the maknaes playing rock paper scissors. In the end, it was Vernon who lost the game and went to wash the dishes.
‘You shouldn’t be excluded from the game just because you cooked,’ you teased your boyfriend and pouting he said ‘you know I’d rather chop woods than do that. The water’s cold, too.’ ‘Alright big baby. Go spend your time with them. As soon as you finish filming, I’ll be at our house waiting for you.’ ‘I can’t wait, I’ll practice cooking here so I can prep you food at home, you’ll see I’ll be more lovable.’ Well, he is lovable but you preferred not to say it as he will be 10x more smug about it.
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beels-burger-babe · 4 years ago
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Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day
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***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.
From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.
Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"
Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.
"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.
You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"
You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.
"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff
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me-and-your-husband · 4 years ago
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Need Someone (Part 3)
Summary: Reader gets into some trouble, and doesn’t know who else to call besides her best friend’s dad, District Attorney Andy Barber.
Warnings: age gap, mentions of kidnapping and attempted sexual assault, mentions of a rape kit, kinda cheating
Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Note: Lets say reader is 18 and in senior year.
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      I came to when I realized a strong embrace pulling me against it. I was wrapped in a wool blanket, and sitting on the back of what seemed to be an ambulance. I lifted my head from where it rested on his shoulder, and looked up at Andy. His beautiful blue eyes flickered down to mine, and he gave me a soft smile.
“Hey there, honey. Took you awhile,” his voice was calm and smooth, and his breath smelled like coffee and mint,
“What happened?” I asked him curiously, my voice raspy from screaming. He drew a long breath in.
“Turns out, the perp...” he closed his eyes and shook his head briefly. He’s used to talking about this as a prosecutor. “The man who took you, it wasn’t the first time. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but you were the only one smart enough to get away.” 
“Oh,” I said nonchalantly. My brows furrowed as a question struck my mind and slipped out from my tongue. “What happens now?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the ground under the ambulance. 
He cleared his throat; “Well, first we get you whatever you need. Then, we’ll go to trial.”
“How? He’s dead. Isn’t he? I killed...” I grimaced. “How?” I questioned, this time looking back up at him. He was staring out at the scene in front of us.
The blue and red lights on the four police cars parked in front of the house cast a glow on the surrounding area, the sun having gone almost all the way down. Yellow DO NOT CROSS! police tape has been put up as a perimeter around the house, and officers and forensic examiners went in and out of it. 
“It’s called a Posthumous Trial,” he said, still not looking back down at me. “Happens after the person on trial is dead.” 
I gave an obligatory nod and little hum. My eyelids drooped down, until I thought I would fall asleep with his arm wrapped around me once again. I tried staying awake, I did, but the sound of the sirens, and the inaudible babble, and his steady breathing, was almost soothing...
The sound of his rough voice roused me. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can sleep at our house. I called your parents, they couldn’t book a sooner flight but they’ll still be back Monday-”
“I don’t want to stay over tonight, I’m sorry Mr. Barber, but I want to sleep in my own house, in my own bed.”
A sigh escaped his lips. “Okay,” he said, tightening his arm around me and tucking my head under his chin. My cheeks turned rosy as I suppress a smile.
“I thought you were calling me Andy now,” he said from on top of my head. I could feel his jaw move with every word. Now, I allowed the grin to appear on my lips, and even let a chuckle slip passed them.
“Fine. Andy it is,” I laughed.
“Another thing,” he started, “I’m not letting you be alone tonight, under any circumstances. I’ll sleep on your couch. We don’t have t tell Jacob.”
“Alright,” I agreed as a yawn formed in my throat. Pushing it back down, Andy’s eyes flashed towards me.
“Let’s get going,” he said, removing his arm from my shoulder and standing up. I followed, folding the blanket that was around me and tossing it into the ambulance. “We can get Chinese.” He said, holding his hand out for me, which was odd, but I took it anyways. He walked me to his car, and even opened the door for me. 
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    With the brown paper bag filled with my favorite Chinese food on my lap, the cars and streets around us held my attention. Still in shock from the whole experience, I tuned out Andy and just tried to breathe steadily, focused on my chest rising and falling. My fingers drummed on the armrest, and before I knew it, we were back at my place.
    Getting out of the car, I walked up to my front door with Andy close behind me, locking his car. I crouched down to fish under the welcome mat for the spare key. My fingers met the cool tip of the keychain, and I stood back up and slid it in the lock. Stepping in, I realized it was oddly cold inside. Kicking my shoes off and setting the food on the counter, I brought my hands up to rub my arms. Andy came in after me and shut the door, kicking his shoes off too, making sure he locked it the door.
“It’s freezing in here. I guess nobody’s been here to turn the heat on for the past three days,” I expressed, which he acknowledged with a hum. 
“If you grab a couple blankets, I can make us plates and we can watch a movie?” He said, not making eye contact, leaning against the counter, arms folded over his chest. 
“Sure, that sounds perfect,” I said, running up the steps before he could see that I was blushing. 
I raided the closet, but I could only find one blanket. Luckily, it was a big, fluffy comforter. Climbing down the steps, I see Andy with his back turned towards me, putting the leftovers in the fridge. He had taken his black overcoat off and hung it on a chair; now he was in his black suit jacket, slacks, dress shirt and tie. He was at work when I called him. 
“I could only find one blanket, but it’s big so...” I started, trailing off. He closes the fridge and turns towards me.
“Sounds good. Yours is over there,” He says, nodding over toward my kitchen table where two plates are set up across from each other filled with the delicious food. I made sure to thank him, which he returned with a smile and a “it’s really no problem” sort of wave. 
He came to sit in front of me to eat. But first, he took of his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. Then he sat. His hands came up to his tie, pulling it loose, but not completely off. He let out a small groan of relief, or satisfaction. and I almost choked on my food.. I assumed it felt like taking a metal-wired bra off at the end of the day. 
     I didn’t want to stare and come across rude, so I stared down at my plate, scooping up piles of chicken fried rice with my spoon. What would I say if he caught me? No, Mr. Barber, I wasn’t staring to be rude, you just make me horny?
Yeah. No thanks. 
Fifteen minutes filled with awkward eye contact and sexual tension later, Andy had finished and gone to the sink to do his dishes. I was still working on my chicken fried rice. I guess I just didn’t have an appetite, I wonder why.
After deciding that I wasn’t hungry and that even trying to eat would take far too long, I ended up scraping everything into the garbage bin. I walked to the sink and did ran the water under my plate, grabbing the washcloth. Andy had just vacated the sink before me, and was now leaning against the island.
“Let me do that,” He said, moving to take the plate from me.
“Andy, I can still be a functioning member of society. Plus, nothing really even happened,” I said, avoiding his burning gaze. 
“Nothing happened? Y/N, you were literally kidnapped. He might not have successfully gone through with anything that you know of, but you were unconscious for anywhere in between forty-eight and seventy-two hours. That’s plenty of time. I’m taking you to the hospital to get a rape kit done tomorrow.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he but a hand over my mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m also taking you to a therapist. I’m not only your...your friend here, but I’m your lawyer now, too. Let me take care of you,” he said, eyes pleading, taking his hands in mine. I gave him a nod, and let him do my dishes, reluctantly. 
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Ten minutes later, we were seated on my three person sofa, scrolling through Netflix and sharing a blanket. I had changed into an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts, and I let him borrow some of my dad’s sweat and a shirt. My dad wasn’t as muscular or as broad as him, so the shirts fit tighter on Andy. It was a beautiful sight to see. 
    After squabbling about what movie to watch for a few minutes, we finally decided on watching the Hunger Games. 
   About two hours into the movie, my eyelids started drooping and it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. Finally, my eyes shut completely and I could finally get some better rest.
  I woke up to see that the screen had gone back to the browsing screen, and I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the newfound darkness of the room. The small clock on the TV read 11:34 pm. Shifting my head, I found that I was being held. By Andy.
   His strong arms wrapped around me and his head rested atop mine, laying on his chest. His long lashes were a perfect additive to his peaceful expression. His chest moved up and down with me under it, and I couldn’t help but admire his perfection. I nuzzled my head into his neck this time, and fell back asleep.
  A bit later, I was awoken by someone gently shaking me and whispering my name. It was Andy. I didn’t open my eyes, feeling like I had zero energy, and just gave a grunt in response, shoving my face further into the couch pillow. I heard him let out a little chuckle, and huff out something about how stubborn I was. I was surprised when he easily picked me up bridal style, but just nudged my head into his neck, breathing in his musky cologne. I hummed into his shoulder, and after I felt him easily carrying me up the flight of stairs that led to the bedroom, I felt him set me down gently in my bed and pull the covers over me, tucking them in around me. 
   He got on his knees in front of me, and stroked my hair for a few minutes. When he stopped, I opened my eyes. He got up, but not without whispering, “goodnight, Y/N.”
“Wait,” I whispered, causing him to whip around and get back to my level. My tired eyes met his concerned ones. 
“I’m here, I’m here,” he said, going back to stroking my hair. 
“Can you stay with me?” I whispered shyly, but frankly I was too tired to carry shame.
A moments hesitation, a sigh, and then, “I’m sorry, honey but you’re vulnerable right now and I would be taking advantage of you and that’s not how I want to do this-”
“Please. Please, I need you.” I said softly. This time, no hesitation.
“Okay,” he said simply. Shutting the lamp off, he walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside me. Turning onto my other side to face him, he pulled me into his chest, and wrapped his arm around me. He placed a sweet kiss on my head.
“Goodnight, honey.”
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Thank you guys for all the support on this series! Let me know if there’s anything you want to see in it.
Taglist: @zaddychris @kyrarose16 @lexeeehhh @kelbabyblue @lovelivelife128  @kalesrebellion @princess-evans-addict @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @wesleypiper
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luxaofhesperides · 4 years ago
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in those long days until we’re together
yoo sangah loves all the time she spends with jung heewon. but the time they spend together is to little; such is the way of long distance relationships.
for ORV RARE PAIR WEEK 2021 @orv-week; day three, prompt: long distance relationship.
also on ao3.
. . . Call soon?  the text reads when Yoo Sangah opens it. She immediately sends back a smiling panda sticker and hurries through the rest of her work so she can leave on time, if not a little early. They’ve both been busy recently, which means they haven’t had much time to talk, but Jung Heewon had set a day where they’re both free in the evenings to call and catch up. Yoo Sangah is grateful; often she worries about being too needy or clingy, holding herself back from asking for more no matter how often Jung Heewon assures her that it’s fine. She’s missed talking to her girlfriend recently, but didn’t want to demand all of her time and attention, so she kept quiet until Jung Heewon firmly set a time when they can ignore the rest of the world and just focus on each other.
There are three hours left before she can go home. She feels each minute passing by agonizingly slow. Her focus is shot, barely able to concentrate on all the files she has on hand that have to go out by the end of the week. She’s only half done, and while she’s sure if she focused and got to it she’s finish faster, Yoo Sangah is filled with restless energy that makes her walk away from her desk.
The break room is usually empty at this time. It’s just after the time most people finish their lunch and return to their work, so Yoo Sangah looks forward to making herself some tea and letting her mind wander without the pressures of deadlines stress her out.
She gets as far as pulling out a cup before she realizes she’s not alone. Kim Dokja sits in the back of the break room, in a corner people ignore because it’s out of sight from the door. He’s on his phone again, not moving and silent. Yoo Sangah can’t help but jump a little when she finds him, from the shock of seeing someone in the corner of her eye in a room she though was empty . Slowly, she lets out a breath and tries not to look to frazzled.
“Dokja-ssi,” she calls out, making him look up, “Did you want anything to drink?”
“No thank you,” he says as quietly as always. Had it been anyone else, she would have thought he was trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. In fact, he sounds exactly as he does when he tries to end a conversation, but he’s not looking away which is the only sign that he doesn’t mind talking a little while longer.
Kim Dokja is really her only friend at Minosoft, where all the other men hit on her relentlessly and the other women keep her at arms length for one reason or another. He doesn’t hit on her, leer at her, or act rudely. He just keeps to himself and helpfully hands her salt when she’s upset so she can ruin people’s coffees. Yoo Sangah is glad to have at least one co-worker she’s on good terms and doesn’t actively dislike.
“Did something happen?” he asks, lowering his phone some more. It always feels like a victory when she manages to pull him away from that phone screen. “You look a little… flushed, I suppose. Distracted.”
Yoo Sangah can’t help but smile. “Oh, I’m video calling my girlfriend tonight. It’s been a while since we were able to talk.”
Here’s another thing about Kim Dokja: he’s not just her only friend at Minosoft, but also the only person who knows she’s 1) not straight and 2) in a relationship. She hadn’t even meant to tell him about Jung Heewon, but he was there and no one else was and she was happy that Jung Heewon wanted to be in a relationship with her, even if it was long distance. All Kim Dokja do was ask if she had a good night, and Yoo Sangah immediately told him about the lovely, strong woman who turned her attempt to socialize into a date, ditching the rest of her college friends, and about the second date she had on the weekend.
Kim Dokja, to his credit, didn’t even blink. Just congratulated her on her new relationship and made no mention of the fact that she was with another woman. Yoo Sangah grew fiercely protective of him that day, as had Jung Heewon, the first time she called while Yoo Sangah was still at work and got to talk to him for a few minutes.
“I see,” he says. “If you’d like me to take on some of your work so you can go home sooner…”
“Oh, no! I couldn’t ask that of you! But thank you for offering anyways. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”
He shakes his head. “I’m alright. I’m on break for another ten minutes, and I’d like to finish reading this, so…”
Yoo Sangah nods at his polite attempt finish the conversation and focus on his phone again, and tries to make tea quietly as to not bother him. She lets herself smile freely as she waits for the tea to cool, then says goodbye to Kim Dokja, who awkwardly waves a hand at her. No one tries to stop her for a chat as she makes her way back to her desk, which is incredibly rare and incredibly lucky. It wasn’t a bad day before getting Jung Heewon’s text, but it certainly got better after it.
Somehow, she manages to finish the last few hours of work, only occasionally glancing at her phone, before she puts all her files away and gets ready to go home. As she’s walking to the elevator to leave, Yoo Sangah sees a couple of people from the corner of her eye perk up when they catch sight of her and start heading over. Please go away, she thinks and stares very hard at the elevator doors, trying to convey that she’s leaving and doesn’t want to talk. It doesn’t work.
Just as they reach her and one of them opens his mouth, Kim Dokja appears, sliding in front of them with ease. With how he’s looking at his phone again, it could be passed off as unintentional, just him not paying attention to his surroundings, but the way he carefully glances at her tells her that this was no accident.
People don’t really seem to like Kim Dokja, which Yoo Sangah finds strange. He’s just a little reclusive and awkward, but their coworkers either harass him or avoid him with all their might.
These two men become visibly uncomfortable and shift away from Kim Dokja. They look at her, then at Kim Dokja, then walk past them. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Yoo Sangah sighs and says, “Thank you, Dokja-ssi.”
He gives her a small smile. “It would be a shame to get stuck here when you have better things to do.”
The elevator finally arrives on their floor and the doors slide open. It’s empty, thankfully, and they both get in. Kim Dokja leans against the back wall, frowning as he reads… whatever it is he reads. Yoo Sangah decides it wouldn’t be rude to be on her phone, not talking, if it’s Kim Dokja she’s with. She opens up her chat with Jung Heewon and sends another text: I’ll be home soon! Let me know when you’re ready <3
Once on the ground floor, Yoo Sangah says goodbye to Kim Dokja as he heads towards the subway and she goes around the building to get her bike. The sun has set by the time she makes it to her apartment, but the sky is still light, all purple and pink. She takes a moment to admire it before she unlocks her door and kicks off her shoes.
The stress of the day falls off her shoulders and she takes a moment to stretch before going to her bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
She grabs her charger from her room and plugs it in the kitchen just to make sure her phone doesn’t die in the middle of the call. It’s been so long, Yoo Sangah isn’t going to risk anything cutting their time together short.
Her phone chirps with a notification and Yoo Sangah all but throws herself across the kitchen to open it.
Five more minutes?asks Jung Heewon, and Yoo Sangah quickly sends a nodding kitten sticker back. She rushes through grabbing ingredients and setting up her cutting board and frying pan in order to make fried rice, and keeps checking her phone to make sure she doesn’t accidentally miss Jung Heewon’s call.
Calling now!! comes another text that Yoo Sangah barely sees before her phone is ringing. She grabs it and accepts the video call, heart thundering in her chest as both their cameras begin to adjust to the lighting in their respective apartments.
“There you are sweetheart,” Jung Heewon says, smiling, “I’ve missed you so much.”
Yoo Sangah can’t help the shy smile that spreads across her face, cheeks flushing. “I can’t wait to see you in person again. Two more weeks, right?”
“Mhm. Two more weeks and you’ll get to have me all to yourself for four days.”
Yoo Sangah has been eagerly counting down the days for Jung Heewon’s next visit to Seoul, planning out dates and meals to cook together. The loneliness that cripples her the first few days after her girlfriend leaves is terrible, a feature of long distance relationships, but getting to be with Jung Heewon in any way she can is more than worth it.
She sets her phone propped up against a tall glass. “I’m going to make some dinner, so tell me about your week while I cut some vegetables.”
Jung Heewon shifts, getting more comfortable on her couch, and begins to talk about her job, her coworkers, the stray cats in the neighborhood that she’s been feeding; Yoo Sangah lets the soothing cadence of her voice wash over her as she cooks, listening attentively and trying to commit everything to memory so she can feel like she’s a part of Jung Heewon’s day.
They talk through her cooking, her eating, keep the call going even when both leave to take a shower and get ready for bed. It’s so nice to talk to Jung Heewon again, but it makes the empty space on her bed all the more obvious.
“I can’t wait to have you with me again,” Yoo Sangah mumbles, sleepy now that she’s in bed. She’s having trouble keeping her eyes open, and while she knows she should go to sleep since she has work tomorrow, she wants this call to keep going for as long as possible. She’s not ready to say goodbye. She’s never ready to say goodbye.
Jung Heewon rubs her eyes tiredly. “You look tired sweetheart,” she says, her voice low. The sound of it sends pleasant shivers down her spine, and Yoo Sangah can only manage a vague hum in reply. “Go to sleep. I’ll stay on the call until you sleep.”
“I don’t want to end it,” she says, stubbornly keeping her eyes open.
“I’ll call you again in the morning. I promise. Okay?”
That’s the smart thing to do, Yoo Sangah knows, and if she wakes up a little earlier than usual she can see Jung Heewon longer. Still, she doesn’t want to go to sleep and stop hearing Jung Heewon’s voice. She wants time to stop and let her have this moment to herself forever, without worrying about tomorrow or counting down the days until Jung Heewon arrives for just a few days. Their relationship is filled with longing and waiting, always separated and never able to stay together as long as they want.But there is no one she wants as much as Jung Heewon. She’ll do anything to stay with her.
“Okay,” Yoo Sangah says, “Goodnight. Two weeks?”
“Two weeks,” Jung Heewon promises. “I’ll be with you before you know it.” I hope so , she thinks, and closes her tired eyes, letting the sounds of Jung Heewon moving and preparing for the next day lull her to sleep. It’s almost like she’s there with Yoo Sangah.
Almost.
It’s enough for now. 
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bitoffairydust · 3 years ago
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We’re getting close to the finish line - 37 weeks done, 3 (hopefully, at most) to go!
I had a prenatal follow up last Friday and there wasn’t much mention made in regards to the ultrasound. The doctor mentioned he’s a bit bigger than average but that was that, and honestly I figured as much.
She did say she wanted to see me again this week (instead of waiting til next week) to make sure my blood pressure doesn’t get any higher. It wasn’t terrible, 110/89, but I’m usually lower than that. At least I think that’s not bad? The nurse didn’t seem to think it was a problem anyhow, but then again neither did she see my 5 kg in 4 weeks weight gain as a problem before and the doctor did, so who knows. Honestly, I’m just glad I’ll get to finish work a couple of hours early on Friday.
We’ve done a good deal of meal prepping over the past couple of weekends. I made some breakfast sandwiches/burritos, which I hope will be edible 😅 the eggs smelt a little questionable (they were baked on a sheet pan instead of cooked on the stove top, so that likely had something to do with that). I also made three batches of sheet pancakes and a double batch of chocolate chip cookies, rolled into balls and frozen so we can easily pop a couple in the oven when we feel like it. Then we made two different chicken Alfredo recipes (regular and Cajun), chicken pot pie, Buffalo chicken casserole, chicken and dumplings, and chicken fried rice (we’re a chicken family clearly 😂) as well as a some beef stew, shepherd’s pie and a lasagna. This weekend I’ll make a pizza casserole, some Mac n cheese and a few batches of muffins, and that’ll be about all our freezer can take.
I’m honestly pretty ready to get this show on the road. My wife is not - the idea of baby coming so soon is freaking her out a bit and she feels there’s still a lot of things to do before he arrives. I’m feeling pretty good with what we’ve accomplished though, and I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be so might as well get things started. Earlier today I just looked down at my bell and straight up said “Get out” 😂. I keep over analyzing every little cramp I get but I never leads to anything.
I know he’ll get here when he’s ready and I’m not gonna go to crazy lengths trying to push things along. I know most things that are said to ‘induce’ labor naturally only work when your body is already ready to go into labor anyway.
I just hope he’ll be ready sooner than later 🤞🏻
- Marie
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purple-nana · 4 years ago
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Barriers
Part 8 - Fluff, Crack
2.7k words   ( Part of the Dorm of us Series)
Warnings: Language
You stared at Jaemin in awe.
“Oh by the way, where’s the other boys?” He asked in confusion, “I bet they would crackle up if I had told them about this ehehehehe” He continues to chuckle in a rather, weird one though.
“Wait—I thought you guys went out?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
Jaemin looks around then right back at you. “Well, you can clearly see that I’m right in front of you. In flesh y/n.” He explains as he shrugs his shoulders.
Your forehead furrows even further. “Sooo, what the hell have you been doing that you absolutely had no idea where the boys were when you went home earlier than me?” You ranted in confusion at him.
Jaemin giggles. “Calm down y/n, I fell asleep okay? Ya know it’s hard to look for someone when that person is really trying hard to not be seen.” He smirks, causing you to shut your mouth.
“Besides, it’s really not a big deal that they left us here. Unless,” His turn to raise his eyebrow at you now, “you’re still guilty of something.” He says, crossing his arms.
It wasn’t really a big deal for you anymore—okay fine, it was still a big deal for you that you came in contact with him and not only that, you were alone with him in that space.
That could only mean one thing, more interaction!
Your mind panicked. You need to get out, you need to escape from the possible outcomes that were unfolding in your head. Grabbing your bag, you immediately made your way to the door.
It doesn’t matter where the heck are you going to end up for the night, the club at a fraternity house? Or should you just crash into a friend’s place?
Jaemin grabs your wrist, stopping you as well as your thoughts.
“Stay Y/n please just stay.”
His soothing voice shook your whole being. You really wanted to go out and escape yet another chance for you to talk to him but now—it seems like there’s nothing you can do.
You let out a sigh and turned to Jaemin, who was ready to let go of your hand and hear your words of farewell, however.
You beamed a smile at him. “What should we do to kill time then?”
His lips immediately formed into a wide grin and that was enough for you to convince yourself that you’ve made the right choice. You’re going to accept this one for now, but you’re going to make sure that the boys will get the best beating of their lives yet. They must be having the time of their lives right now.
That made you curious though. Where are they?
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Unwary to you and Jaemin’s knowledge cause the both of you were somehow convinced that the boys were having the time of their lives, clubbing, partying, or what the hecky heck they were supposed to do.
Cause your assumptions might have been wrong or let’s just say—it was completely wrong. Turns out, they were having the worst time of their lives.
They’ve made the river park their own personalized debate arena.
“Who’s idea was it in the first place huh?!” Renjun snarls at Haechan, “I was supposed to be studying right now you maniac!”
“Hey! I thought you wanted to see the two idiots together cause they were giving your non-existent ass a damn hard time?!”
Renjun gasps in disbelief and proceeded to look at his ‘non-existent ass’. “How dare you say that I don’t have a butt when yours is as flat as a pancake!”
So yeah, basically the two were doing their thing as usual except the only difference were—they are in public. Making it 1000000x more embarrassing.
Jeno on the other hand, has his lips puckered while sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, mindlessly playing his game on his phone. He was trying his best to ignore his companions as well as pretending to not know any of them, cause they were hella embarrassing
Thoughts such as ‘I regret my life rn’ ‘I wish I should’ve just stayed back home’ ‘I don’t know those guys’
Yeah, each one of them were regretting their life decisions, especially Jeno.
He doesn’t even know how is he going to go home peacefully at this point. He was a hundred percent sure about the events that were about to go down when they go back home.
 And it wasn’t going to be good.
So for the mean time, he’s just gonna enjoy the fresh air and play his games while pretending that the two boys who were just exactly 5 meters away from him were non-existent and silently hope for the best.
“Why was I friends with these psychopaths.” Jeno mutters to himself quietly. Which wasn’t really that quiet since someone might have picked up his words.
Renjun turns around to Jeno with angry eyes. “Ya! Lee Jeno! Who were you calling a psychopath huh? It better be this bitch here or else!” Renjun said that annoyed Haechan.
Haechan’s eyes widened.“You bastard! I’m going to fucking kill you!” 
“Not if I kill you first!”
Jeno just smiled to himself while shaking his head. “Kids.”
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You thought the idea of staying with Jaemin would be fun. 
The both you could play games, watch movies, or even talk about you know—stuff. Maybe you made up your decision a little bit too fast? No, it would be fun. You haven’t really spent time with him since you avoided him.
Maybe this time, you could make up for the lost time. It wouldn’t be awkward right?
If you were sure that the both of you can spend leisure time together without being awkward then—you were completely wrong.
You stared into blank space as the terribly awkward atmosphere messes with your brain. Who would’ve thought that a happy question could lead to this situation right now?
Well, who were you kidding? Of course it would be awkward, why didn’t you thought of this sooner? You should’ve just went out.
You’re really going to kill the boys once they step foot inside of the building.
If it weren’t for those morons then you wouldn’t be sitting here staring into thin air for the past hour with Na Jaemin. Yes, you’ve been sitting for the last hour and now your butt is starting to hurt like hell. 
You’re also hungry af, you haven’t eaten anything except for those countless glasses of strawberry milk that you had at the cafe when you ran away earlier.
You just wish that your stomach wouldn’t betray you and make noises without—
“Ahm Y/n? Was that your stomach?” Jaemin asks after he heard a loud growl.
—asking for your permission. great.
“Ah hehehehe,” you giggle nervously, “yeah that was me. I haven’t eaten anything after school ended.” You smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head in bashfulness.
Jaemin chuckled loudly leaving you confused. “You should’ve told me then haha, come on I’ll cook us something.” He says while standing up.
“Oh really? You really don’t have to, I’m fine.” 
“Your stomach says otherwise Y/n.” He smirks at you which made you responded with a blank face. “Come on now~.” He convinces you while pulling your arm. You always wonder why he pulls your arm when he tries to convince you at something.
Well, it does work though.
You sat at the table while you for Jaemin to finish up cooking. Yeah you weren’t helping, you really wanted to cause it would be burdensome for him if he did all the work by himself.
But he insisted, saying that he was ‘the chef of the household’ and it was his responsibility to do the cooking. If you were being honest, that was a very ridiculous reason but nonetheless you accepted it.
You were too tired to create an argument and who wouldn’t want to just sit and do nothing right?
He worked in the kitchen for probably about 20 minutes, Jaemin decided to cook something easy and quick as you were probably tired and need to head to bed any time now.
How can he say so? It was evident that sleep was already at your doorstep when you kept on staring onto space for the past few hours now.
You snap out of your reverie when Jaemin placed a bowl of fried rice and fried eggs in front of you. The aroma of the food slowly made it’s way to your nostrils making your mouth water by it’s scent.
After you thank Jaemin you immediately begin to devour your bowl. After sometime, you tried taking another spoonful of the fried rice but instead you were met by a sad clinking sound of the bowl. 
“Uh? It’s gone already?” You ask your self as you took the bowl closer to your face to take a better look. Empty.
Jaemin snickers at you making you look at him in confusion which then he immediately stops. You gave him ‘the look’.
“What?”
“Why were you laughing at me~?” you ask in a annoyed tone.
“Why?” He chuckles looking at you from top to bottom then averting his gaze. “You were cute.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you look away from him, avoiding his eyes in attempt to hide your flushed face. You stood up flustered and made your way to the sink to put away your dishes. 
Jaemin was confused when he saw you walking towards your bedroom. “Hey! Where are you going?” 
“I’m going to bed.” You responded quickly.
You were about to open the door to your bedroom when Jaemin grabbed your wrist. How many times have he stopped you today by grabbing your wrist?
“Can you stay for a little while longer? I want to talk to you about something.”
You turned to look at him. “There’s nothing for us to talk about Jaemin, and if this is about the other week then please, let’s just forget about that.” You pulled your wrist from him and continued to open your door.
“How can I forget about that when I haven’t even said what I wanted to tell you.” His words made you stop.
You look at him in the eye. “Jaemin please—” your words got cut off by him.
“Tell me, why did I decide to leave home so that I could be here?” 
“Because—” 
“Tell me y/n, why did I still made efforts knowing that you’d still run to Jeno in the end?”
“J-jaemin...”
He ran his fingertips through his brown strands. “Why do I feel jealous whenever a guy touches you even if we were just friends?” 
You were confused by his words, you never knew Jaemin felt that way about you.
Does this mean you were special to him?
That he treasures you? Or is it—
He grabbed your arm and embraced you tightly that caught you by surprise. “I love you y/n, I love you so much to the point that I had to pretend because I was afraid to lose you.” His words were genuine.
You were shocked and happy and dazed at the same time, you were already tired and then these new information started shaking your mind. You never knew but, what about Miri?
“I-i thought you still love her?” you asked softly.
“I didn’t y/n, I never did. I tried to forget about my feelings for you but I—can’t. I can’t bear to think that I would lose you y/n.”
“Why would you lose me?” 
“I was scared that if I told you the truth you’d be gone, forever. I was scared that I might ruin our friendship. So what you told me last week, it made me feel—ecstatic. From that moment on, I realized that I should stop pretending and do something. My feelings only get stronger and stronger each day.” Jaemin admits as tears fall from his eyes. 
You smiled and returned the hug. “You know? I was scared too Jaemin. But now, I’d be gladly to say that—I love you too.” you say as your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.
You cannot see it but you were sure that Jaemin smiled widely as he embraced you closer to his. Everything was—perfect.
The both of you stayed in that position for quite a while, your chin was resting on Jaemin’s shoulder as he slowly caresses your back. Only stopping when he heard your soft snores.
He smiled to himself, you must have been really tired for you to pass out while standing. Jaemin slowly picked you up and opened your bedroom door. Which caused your eyes to snap open while muttering a soft ‘please don’t leave me’.
Jaemin then decided to take you to the couch. He sat on one end while you peacefully sleep on his lap.
He still couldn’t believe it. Who would’ve thought that the both of you will be in this position. With you in his arms as he slowly guides you to sleep.
Not as friends, but finally as lovers.
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Haechan and Renjun quietly tiptoe their way to the dorm while silently wishing that you and Jaemin were already fast asleep cause if not, they’re going to get their butts whooped tonight.
On the other hand, Jeno was casually walking not giving a damn even if his shoes were producing clinking sounds across the tiled floor.
“YA! Lee Jeno! Would kindly make your foot shut up?” Renjun whisper-yells at him.
Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ahm no? Why would I? It’s not like my foot has a mouth so that I’d be able to make it shut up.” Jeno sarcastically replies to Renjun.
“Will the both of you shut up? I am about to open the fucking door and if y/n sees us then we’ll be fucking dead,” His eyes widened while running his finger across his neck to indicate that ‘they will be dead’.
That made the two shut up while Haechan cautiously open the door, praying that it wouldn’t make any sound to betray them. But much to their dismay, the opening of the door made a ‘creaking’ sound that would certainly wake anyone who wasn’t a heavy sleeper.
This caused the three of them to scrunch their faces in disappointment.
In addition to that, they were welcomed by a wide-eyed Jaemin who was noticeably waiting for them and that scared the living shit of their souls.
“WAH!” Haechan freaks out.
“WHAT WHAT WHAT!” Renjun follows.
“Took you two long enough.” Jeno said as he was the first person to notice your sleeping figure on Jaemin’s lap.
Jaemin just gave them a fake smile while hushing them to prevent you from waking up.
“Oh boi, I guess our plan worked!” Renjun glee cheerfully, giving Haechan a high five.
“So, you were the guys who planned this shit ei? Guess who’s gonna get a nice, lovely beating tomorrow.” Jaemin clicks his tongue while shaking his head.
“Ahehehehehe we’re sorry.” Haechan apologizes.
“We only planned this out cause I was fucking tired of seeing you both being in-denial. It was stressing me out.” Renjun complains, folding his arms together.
Jaemin just rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to Jeno, waiting for his explanation for his side of the story.
He immediately shakes his head. “Nuh uh, I wasn’t apart of this. These guys blackmailed me saying that they will destroy my computer if I didn’t tag along.” Jeno briefly explains.
Jaemin just rolled his eyes for the nth time. “Did you guys had fun? What did you do?” He asks.
Renjun and Haechan awkwardly laughs.
“Of c-course we had fun. We ate out tonight and—” Haechan reasons out.
“We ate pizza”
“We ate burgers.”
 Renjun and Haechan both said at the same time. Haechan gave Renjun the ‘stink eye’ telling him to shut up.
“Ah yes we ate burgers and pizza we also went bowling. Yeah we had fun hehehe.” Haechan awkwardly laughs.
Jaemin pursed his lips as he knew they were lying.
“Well, I didn’t know we went bowling and ate burgers? All I knew was there was apparently two boys bickering at the park as if it was their debating arena.” Jeno innocently says.
“Oh. okay. gotta blast.” Renjun says as he and Haechan ran for their rooms and immediately lock their doors.
Jaemin and Jeno laughed at the behaviors of the two.
Jeno turned to your sleeping figure and gave Jaemin a warm smile. “Take care of her huh? She’s been through so much.”
Jaemin returned the smile to Jeno. “I’d definitely will,” Jaemin looks at you and gave your fore head a gentle kiss.
“She means the world to me.”
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A/N: Again I’m sorry for the latee update, i’ll have more time now that school has been moved again. Wiee ty!
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dashboardcat · 4 years ago
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I Try One of Everything at Salt City Market (Part 2)
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Remember like 3 weeks ago when I did a write-up of a food hall in my hometown, guaranteed to attract the attention of like, 2 people?  Well, it’s time for more of that! 
Attempt #1
While there wasn’t a line outside this time, the market itself seemed just as busy as it was the day after the grand opening.  I also tried to make a point to take in more of the decor, but I don’t think I really have anything new to add other than the fact that I watched not one but two people struggle to stuff the big paper bags their food came in into the trendy, tiny-opening trash cans.  More importantly, I forgot that like, half of the stands are closed on Mondays, meaning I would have to come back another time to finish my quest. 
ERMA’S ISLAND- Jerk Pork (half portion)- $10
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I want to say right off the bat that of all the things I’ve tried from this market, this was hands down the best smelling.  And thankfully, the pork pretty much tasted as good as it smelled.  It was tender and juicy, and the sauce was complex, with a good amount of heat that didn’t overpower the other flavors.  The rice and beans that it came with, on the other hand, was a little bland, but that’s nothing that mixing the sauce into can’t fix.  
Unfortunately, I can never show my face there again, because when the cashier asked me if I wanted the half or whole portion, I said “Yeah,” and made her repeat herself like 3 times.
MAMMA HAI- “Marco Polo” Banh Mi- $10
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Yes, that’s pepperoni on a banh mi.
The roll was nice and crusty, and to be honest, that’s like 90% of what makes a good sandwich for me.  Unfortunately, the pickled veggies and cilantro (and this blog is pro-cilantro, get over yourselves, haters) sort of overpowered the pepperoni and the char siu pork, which is a shame because I wanted that pepperoni to shine.  If this was a $5 banh mi, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, but at $10 I would have liked a little more meat, or at least for the already existing meat to make its presence felt.  The pate and mayo kinda also get lost, but do present a bit of richness in about every other bite (and, for another controversial sandwich opinion, I don’t necessarily think that every bite of a sandwich has to have an even distribution of everything, otherwise the flavors sort of just blur together after a while).  Overall, it’s a fairly decent sandwich, but left me longing for something more.  They also have a curry chicken banh mi, maybe that one has a better balance of flavor.
CAKE BAR- Locus Cake- $6.50
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One thing about Cake Bar that isn’t made apparent by looking at their stand is that, according to their website, it’s meant to resemble a Vietnamese cafe.  In hindsight, this kinda explains the wide variety of specialty teas (specialteas, if you will) they also had available.
The chocolate cake was moist and had little crispy bits running throughout it.  At first, I thought it was eggshells, because I’m an idiot and always assume the worst.  After picking out an especially large chunk, I realized it was broken up bits of Biscoff cookies! (Further research has shown me that the parent company that makes Biscoff cookies is called Locus, thus, y’know, the name of the cake.  Probably should have put that together sooner, it literally says “Locus” on the cookie, one of which was lodged into the top of the cake.)  The buttercream was surprisingly light, and the caramel on top had the perfect consistency, gooey enough to stay put but not so gooey that it turned into a stringy mess after running your fork through it.  The only negative thing I really have to say about the all-around experience was that the box they used made it kind of difficult to get the slice out of it (as you can see, I ended up just tearing the sides up).
Attempt #2 
Since the market is relatively close to my work, I figured I would drop by after work one day to bang out the rest of the list.
BAGHDAD RESTAURANT- Beef Shawarma- $6.99
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At first, I laughed to myself upon seeing it in one of those gas station sub bags.  The laughing faded pretty quickly, though, upon seeing it was, in fact served on a sub roll. I'm not a shawarma expert. maybe that can be an acceptable way to eat it? The beef was well spiced and that perfect sweet spot between tender and still having something to sink your teeth into.  Unfortunately, that’s more or less where my compliments end.  What little sauce the menu promised (just called “sauce,” don’t ask me what it is) has soaked into the bread and completely disappeared, making the whole thing somewhat dry and lackluster.  Also, they didn’t cut it, which was fine with the heartier banh mi’s baguette but with the softer sub roll didn’t have the structural integrity to be picked up whole without a struggle.  My biggest gripe with it is mostly on me, though, as the juice from the pickles tainted most of it with pickle stank, which could have been avoided entirely if I had just ordered it without.  
SOULUTIONS- Mustard and Berbere Fried Chicken ($6) and FIRE MAC ($4)
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(Note- the $6 order of chicken comes with 2 of these chicken cutlets, but I carelessly ate one before taking the picture.)
I do want to clear the air here and say that yes, I did accidentally order fried chicken and mac and cheese from both of the soul food places.  I was originally going to get the burger, at my friend’s recommendation, but the menu board by the register suspiciously didn’t have the burger on it, so I panicked and ordered the fried chicken again.  
While the breading was stained yellow from mustard, the honey mustard taste was very subtle.  I also have to admit to not knowing off the top of my head what berbere (I had to google it, it’s an Ethiopian spice blend) tastes like, so i can't tell you if this tasted like that.  But, despite not being especially strong in either of the namesake seasonings, it definitely is a flavorful piece of chicken nonetheless.  Flavors work that way sometimes.
The Fire Mac may not have delivered as strongly on cheese as I may have liked, but it definitely did deliver on the fire, drizzled with a tangy buffalo-esque sauce.  And Topped with crumbled bits of fried chicken skins? Can’t go wrong with that.
JUICE AND FLOWERS- “Root | 12” Juice- $8
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Misleading name, I didn’t see any flowers anywhere.  Zero stars. 
The beet and lemon were the most pronounced of the flavors, with the ginger lingering on the palate and, unsurprisingly, the apple and carrot mostly being there to round the whole thing out.  The employee that waited on me was very passionate and knowledgeable about the juice, informing me that 2 pounds of produce had gone into this little bottle, and that it’d have a shelf life of 3-5 days.  Which is good, because I put it back in the fridge after I got home to chill it back down, and then proceeded to forget about it for 3 days.  It’s also a very thick and hearty juice, so it doesn’t feel that weird to only want to drink half a bottle in one sitting and, y’know, make this $8 bottle of juice last a little longer. 
Attempt #3
Knowing fully well that I was going to have a long night shift ahead of me, I decided to check out the Coffee Bar side of the market for what would be my third trip over the course of 5 days.  I feel like I should also point out that the Coffee Bar, as its name literally breaks down as, serves coffee during the day and a full bar at night.  I also noticed during this visit that the Coffee Bar has a patio seating area under construction, cheesy string lights and all, that I am looking forward to.
Fruity Pebbles Latte- $6
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Against my best judgement, I got it “for here” for the sake of the pic, even though a.) I had to break my rule of not eating in places because this fucking pandemic isn’t over yet and b.) I was nervous about being late for work the whole time (I did, in fact, get there on time).  As I waited, I could see their secret recipe fruity pebbles milk sitting on the counter.  It was, in fact, fruity pebbles and milk.  
I didn’t really think the Fruity Pebbles would work with the espresso, having had been burned before by places that just dump them onto things with no regard of the flavor profile just for the sake of the burst of color.  But, somehow… it did work.  Maybe it’s because cereal milk is never quite as strong as some might hope, but the subtle fruitiness of the milk played well with the chocolatey notes in the espresso.  The espresso itself probably also had the best crema on it that I’ve ever seen on a latte (and yes, I had to google the pretentious espresso-snob term for the foam that floats to the top).
Also shoutout to the pour over, which on their menu board is priced at "4-ish"
I’m so glad I’m living with my parents again at the moment.  Otherwise, this whole thing would’ve been like, a month’s worth of my food budget.
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purple-cat-demon · 5 years ago
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Okay y’all, here we go. I am nervous as hell because this is my first try at smut~
His Tiny Dancer
Pairing: Gavin x Hazel May
Genre: fluff with smut
Word Count: 2080
Synopsis: Just some domesticity with a side of smut
A/N: Hazel May is the name I gave MC in the game~ The songs that inspired this are:
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~~~~~~~~~
Gavin let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He shoved a report away from him that he was previously reviewing. Paperwork was not his friend, and he loathed every minute that he had to work on it. Leaning back in the chair at the kitchen table, he gazed up at the ceiling; his mind wandering around everything but the task at hand. A glance at the clock on the wall made him wish time would move faster, so Hazel would come home sooner.
As if the fates were listening there came a noise from the front door of the apartment. Gavin whipped his head around towards the door.
‘Oh wow, she’s early!’
He happily got out of the chair and made his way to his lovely wife. Though his happy expression quickly changed to concern as he was met with Hazel’s very tired looking face. The dark circles a dead giveaway that she was exhausted from going in to work much earlier this morning than usual.
“Are you okay?” A tone of worry in his question.
Hazel nodded weakly, rubbing her panda like eyes.
“We finished that project sooner than expected thankfully. Going in early this morning really helped,” she explained.
Hazel lifted her arms over her head and stretched, eliciting a series of loud pops. Gavin gave a bewildered look at his petite wife; she just sighed wearily in response.
“Go take a nap. I’ll take care of dinner,” her husband instructed after placing a kiss on her forehead. Hazel’s eyes lit up.
“What are we having,” she eagerly asked. Gavin blushed a bit as he scratched the back of his neck.
“I wouldn’t get too excited. I don’t even know if it’ll taste good…”
“Well, what is it,” she inquired.
“Orange chicken and rice,” he replied.
Hazel’s eyes sparkled with delight as that was one of her favorite dishes. The thought of Gavin making an attempt to cook it for her made her heart swell. “That sounds yummy! I’m sure you’ll do fine, you’re following a recipe, right?”
“Yes,” he said, holding up his phone.
“Then I leave it to you, my love. How long should I set my alarm for?”
Gavin pondered for a bit.
“Maybe an hour, that’s how long it’ll take for the rice to cook,” he replied, gesturing to the rice cooker on the kitchen counter.
“Aye aye, sir” she saluted as she sauntered towards the bedroom. With a small chuckle and a crack of his knuckles, Gavin turned towards the kitchen to start cooking.
Amber eyes scanned the recipe on the phone laying on the counter. One by one he mentally checked off each step though scowling at the overly fried pieces of chicken in the skillet.
‘Maybe the sauce will cover that up,’ he silently hoped.
Meanwhile, Hazel stirred awake about ten minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She figured she would freshen herself up before heading out to the kitchen. A faint burnt smell reached her nose, making it crinkle slightly.
‘Oh my poor husband’
Donning a pair of fluffy socks, pajama shorts, a tank top and one of Gavin’s old shirts, Hazel headed out of the bedroom. Gavin was in front of the stove, stirring the chicken pieces in the orange glaze when he noticed his lovely wife coming towards him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and nuzzled her face in to his back.
“Mm, how was your nap?”
*yawning* “Much needed, thank you. How’s dinner coming along? It smells good~”
Gavin scoffed, “don’t lie, I’m sure you caught that burnt smell when you got up… But dinner is almost done.”
Hazel giggled as she let go of her disgruntled husband.
“Then I’ll get the table set, my love,” she said while moving towards the cabinets. Hazel gathered the reports on the table, and set them to the opposite side of where they were going to eat. She then grabbed chopsticks from a drawer next to the fridge and bowls from the cabinet above. Next came two bottles of water out of the fridge. She handed the bowls to Gavin, who promptly scooped rice into them and then topped them with the orange chicken.
“It’s good,” Hazel happily exclaimed after taking a couple of bites. “And you were worried about how it would taste.”
Gavin nodded in agreement.
“I guess it did turn out okay, the glaze probably helped. Glad you like it. Next time I’ll pay closer attention to the frying part.”
Hazel gave him a reassuring pat on his forearm.
As soon they were done eating, Hazel got up from her seat and started gathering the dishes. This earned her a concerned look from Gavin.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Getting the dishes, why?”
“You had a rough day, babe, just relax tonight.”
“I wanna help. After all, you made an awesome dinner for us, the least I could do is the cleanup part.”
Seeing there was no arguing with his wife, Gavin surrendered the kitchen to her. Hazel gave him a kiss on the cheek and sent him to the living room. She hummed away as she rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.
Gavin could hear the humming in the living room, a smile plastering his face. A bit of fatigue started to settle in him and he began to nod off.
Music playing brought him back to reality, he didn’t quite recognize the song though. Just as he was about to turn his head to see what was going on, two small hands gently clasped the sides of his face and moved it upward. Warm amber eyes met with tender brown ones in a loving gaze. Hazel pulled away from her husband and started a sultry slow dance to the tempo of the song. Gavin sat up and turned around, watching intently from the back of the couch. His eyes widened as his little dancer started a striptease, beginning with the fluffy socks. She kicked the two socks towards the couch out of range of her “dance floor.” She slowly pulled up the old shirt from the hem to reveal the blue tank top underneath. The shirt also got tossed toward the couch as she turned her back towards Gavin. Hazel then began to tug on the bottom of the tank top. As she was just about to fully take off the garment, it quickly disappeared from her hands.
“Ah?”
She was startled at the sudden intrusion on her dance floor. Gavin had already thrown the garment on the couch when Hazel turned to investigate. Calloused hands rested on the last piece of clothing on her body, the pajama shorts.
“I thought I would get in on your little striptease,” he said as he nuzzled the back of her neck.
“Oh? Is that so,” she mused.
“Hm, when did you learn how to do something like this?”
“Hehe, that’s my little secret”
(Willow may or may not have been involved with this)
“A secre—,” his breath hitched at the sensation of her rear grinding up against his now growing erection. Hazel’s arms slowly raised and swayed to the beat of the song playing while Gavin’s hands inched their way upward. After successfully capturing her chest, he then lightly kneaded her breasts. He gave a small twist to her pert nipples, causing her to arch back into his body. She never missed a beat despite the apparent foreplay going on. Gavin exhaled sharply as her grinding got a bit more intense.
“Hah… if you keep this up…” he warned as he leaned into her ear, “I might just cum right now…”
Hazel cackled at the statement. Breaking free of her capture, she turned to her husband and clasped his hands in hers.
“Can’t have that, now can we?”
Hazel tugged her husband to the bedroom, snickering mischievously along the way. Gavin managed to get loose from her grip to hastily yank his shirt off. He then tossed it towards his side of the bed as the entered the room. Hazel motioned for him to sit at the foot of the bed, while she proceeded to straddle him across his lap. Strong hands placed themselves on her hips, to which she playfully batted them away.
“Ah, ah,” she teasingly denied him, earning her a frustrated growl from her dejected husband. She then initiated a passionate kiss, his hands trying to stake claim on her hips yet again. She batted them away once again, smirking evilly into their kiss. Gavin broke the kiss suddenly, clearly a bit irritated.
“How long are you going to keep teasing me?”
As much as she wanted to continue the foreplay, she found herself unable to deny him when he gave that pleading look she knew so well.
“What the..?”
Gavin wasn’t expecting to be pushed back on to the bed, let alone have his wife crawl over him towards the head of the bed. Hazel chuckled at his confusion but as she turned to face him, she was stopped abruptly.
“Wait… stay like that.”
“O-okay… ah!”
She gasped at the sudden yank of her shorts off her rear. Gavin proceeded to shed his remaining clothing, tossing them and Hazel’s shorts towards their closet. Rough hands wandered gently up and down her petite frame, with one hand traveling down to her core. A slender digit swiped down and across the little bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from Hazel. The same digit then slid between her folds and into her slit; she jolted at the sensation.
“You’re already this wet,” Gavin asked, his voice low, just barely audible. He then positioned his length to her entrance. The anticipation had Hazel automatically clenching her walls as he slowly entered her.
“Fuu—ck, ah…” Gavin groaned, his forehead lightly touching between Hazel’s shoulder blades. The expletive concerned Hazel.
“You okay,” she asked breathlessly.
“Y-yeah. You just feel..so..good…..” he gave a raspy response. Thrusts were slow and smooth at first but soon became more erratic and intense. A high-pitched moan escaped from Hazel as Gavin traced circles on her clit. It wasn’t long until she practically screamed his name into her pillow as she came undone. The pulsating walls around his length caused him to unravel, chasing his own release deep inside her. The heavy panting from both of them filled the bedroom. Gavin once again placed his forehead on her upper back, this time leaving a trail of kisses along her spine.
“I love you so much,” he said, still out of breath.
“I love you too,” she purred.
He pulled out and collapsed next to her, strong arms capturing her in his embrace.
“How long has it been since we’ve done this,” Gavin asked while cuddling into the back of her neck.
Hazel pondered a bit.
“A month, probably? Our schedules clashed so bad that we really didn’t have time.”
“Hmm, I don’t…like..that…”
“Hey now, don’t be falling asleep yet,” she chided as she tried to turn to face him. His grip got tighter as he grumbled out “Why?”
Hazel managed to finally turn towards him, gently poking his cheek.
“We still need to get cleaned up first”
Gavin frowned at that and embraced her again.
“But I’m so comfortable and I don’t wanna let you go,” he whined.
“Gavin….,” she chided again, repeatedly poking his cheek.
“Okay, okay, I’m getting up,” he yielded to his wife’s playfulness. Hazel pulled a couple of tissues from the nightstand and did some cleaning up on the both of them before leading Gavin to the bathroom. He took her hand and kissed the ginkgo wedding ring. She blushed a beet red; he chuckled at the sight.
“It makes me happy that I can still get you to blush after all this time.”
After they got out of the shower, Gavin used his Evol to dry his and Hazel’s hair.
“How is that so effective,” she asked, marveling at how quickly her hair dried.
“I don’t know but I’m glad it is,” he shrugged.
Hazel giggled as a small breeze tickled her nose, tender amber eyes smiling at her through the mirror’s reflection. They got into fresh pajamas and got under the covers. Hazel snuggled close to Gavin as he draped his arm over her.
“I love you so, so much, goodnight,” she managed to say before the slumber took over.
“You’re my everything,” his voice lowering to a whisper, “Goodnight my love.”
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kashimos-hajime · 5 years ago
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sing for the lion and lamb
Summary: “This was what she had signed up for - a good man and minimal pleasure.”
WARNINGS: spoilers as we get through it, swearing, backstory, struggles, this is one of the happiest chapters Pairing: Dectetive Loki x Reader Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: i’m a mess over prisoners and i wrote this super mess series called 1996. this is the first chapter. this is finished so i’ll be posting the other parts later but its movie+extra scenes bc theres so much stuff to get through and also reader and loki need to get through shit
... | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
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To say you love Loki would be a stretch. Two humans, born and raised in Pennsylvania who just happened to have known each other since the care system should have a natural tendency to gravitate towards each other. The two of you found each other again, so you are bound to have some sort of connection. But whilst you have a certain fondness for the man, a certain bond you are quite sure was deeper than blood, you wouldn’t name it love.
No, love is for those who didn’t know better. 
Love is not for the shadows of your eyes or the darkness in his soul. Love is not for men and women like you. 
“Detective.” 
Your eyes raise from the police report of the missing girls before you, blinking away the black boxes and messy scribbles as the man tilts his head at you. “You need something?”
The corner of his mouth twitch into something almost like a smile but your eyes only soak in the pale half-moons under his eyes. He’s sleeping again. Good. He needs all he could get before the case on the missing kids gets some steam. Rolling out your neck, you slide the report into a manila folder and stand.
“Wanted to know if you wanted to head home for a minute or two.” There comes his wide smile, one that completely morphs his face. It tugs at his cheeks, wrinkles his eyes, makes him look younger than he is. Whenever he smiles as he does now, it makes you forget about the paleness in his cheeks, the taste of coffee on his tongue, the rough stubble along his jaw. It makes him look young and handsome and like the street kid you’d known.
He knows you like that smile. Like looking at him. In bed, flushed and moaning, or otherwise. He knows it will convince you and you roll your eyes because this is not going to be a rare occasion where it’ll fail.
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me?” You stretch your arms high above your head, ignoring the way his smile drops off his face as you turn off the burning lamp on your desk. Only the pale lights of the office remains, washing the both of you in ugly pale light. 
“If you have room for dinner, maybe I will.” 
You grab your long coat, popping the collar around your cheeks and he pushes off the wall of your cubicle, walking around and stuffing his hands in his pockets. You sling your bag onto your shoulder and pull hair from underneath your collar.
“No plans for Thanksgiving?” you ask, knowing the answer. It’s only polite to ask. Detective Loki always has a pleasant way of surprising you outside the bedroom.
“None without you, I s’pose.” 
“And we’ve spent the day at work.” You don’t sound particularly surprised and the detective merely shrugs. “Come on, I know a place.”
He cocks his head to the door. It isn’t only the two of you in the station at this time of night but your caffeine-lacking brain rationalizes that they wouldn’t care and you lean up to kiss his jaw. He turns at the last moment and presses a hard kiss against your mouth, teeth snagging on your lips and you sigh into his mouth, tasting coffee and gum and the faint scent of his aftershave. Hands finding his jaw, your fingers scratch at his cheek, trail down his neck and take fistfuls of his jacket.
Your heart thrums in your throat, beats at your stomach like a drum and all you want to do is peel off the clothes burning your body, feeding the fire in your core as he noses your chin, granting himself access to your neck.
“Hey,” you whisper, hands carding through his hair. You aren’t quite sure if you want to push him away or pull him closer as he raises his head from where he’d been sucking a wet mark along the cord of your throat. “I’m hungry.”
“I know.” He ducks again to gently nip at the mark and you smack him lightly, pushing him away.
“You know I’m actually fucking hungry,” you mutter and he growls against your lips, kissing your mouth bruisingly and too, too quickly before he rips himself away. You hadn’t even realized he’d been sucking the life out of you while his hands had casually been in his pockets but he shrugs, the jacket shifting along his shoulders.
Cocky bastard. 
“Come on. Sooner we get dinner, sooner I get you,” he whispers against your ear and you chuckle into his mouth as he snags another kiss.
.
“Do you know what your, uh, Chinese zodiac sign is?”
You wipe at your mouth with a napkin, frowning when your lipstick smears over white. The detective looks up from where he was reading the meaning of each on the paper place mat, offering a smile. This restaurant is one of your favourites, having been the restaurant you went to after your… well, you wouldn’t call it a first date. You went here for a meal once, alone, ‘cause you were hungry after a night with the man sitting across from you. 
After-fucking meal. That’s the phrase. Apt, and conventional, and...
Point is, you like it here and you want him to like it.
He sips on his white mug, taking in the tea as you push around your fried rice. He’s working on some noodles as you drag a finger over the drawings of the Chinese zodiac on the paper.
“No. Do you?”
“Rat.” You watch as he turned to read, finger trailing until he finds the animal at the top of the list. 
“Intelligent, charming, quick-witted. Hm.” He arches an eyebrow and you roll your eyes as the waitress came with the check. It’s only the two of you in this small establishment and you look around, nothing the absence of fortune cookies in the red metallic bowl near the register.
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks.” He raises his hand to gesture in a vague shape and you squint as the waitress poured your mug full of tea. “Hey, you have any of those, um, fortune cookie things?”
“My boss told me cops don’t like fortune cookies.”
“Well, it’s Thanksgiving,” you murmur and the waitress laughs under her breath. “What’s your Zodiac sign?”
“Monkey.”
You toss a glance expectantly at the man sitting across from you and he drops the bill he was reading, looking down at the paper.
“Very intelligent. You have an ability to influence people.” You hum thoughtfully at his answer as he continues, “Maybe you could influence your boss to lower the check a little bit?”
You snort quietly, hiding your laugh as you pull out your wallet. Picking up the slip of paper, you read the the total and begin to lay out bills to pay as the waitress shakes her head.
“Mr. Li is a rooster, Detective,” you comment, extending the check back to the waitress. 
“Thank you.”
“Keep the change.”
“How do you know that?” You don’t miss the edge of his tone as he takes another sip of his tea. Jealousy. You opt not to answer and his gaze drops to the paper. 
“What does the rooster mean?” Leaning on your hand, you watch as he reads out the description. 
“He’s selfish and eccentric.” His eyes raise to meet yours and his gaze carries a hint of mischief. “That’s—”
In unison, both your phones vibrate. David’s clatters against the table and you shove a hand into your bag, feeling for yours. Digging out the phone, you stand and gather your coat and bag as David grabs his own raincoat. The heels on your boots click hard against the tile in your haste to get from the restaurant to the car with as little rain contact as possible as David answers the phone, right at your heels.
Shielding yourself from the rain, you walk to the car and duck into the old thing, slamming the door shut. He slides in beside you, twisting the keys in the ignition and he hands you the radio on instinct. As the two of you pull out of the parking lot, you can’t help the warmth in your gut extinguishing. 
It is so easy to pretend, sometimes. To act as if you’re people you wish you could be. A bitter taste floods your mouth as you think about moments like the ones in the restaurant, ones where you felt so perfectly normal that it’s crazy to even think about the broken parts between you and the man beside you.
But then you’re dragged back into the real world. The real world of long nights, and bullet rain, and the fact that you and David are merely co-workers who live together because that is the only way you can survive having him in your life.  Any more than what he is now, the occasional hook-up, your partner in every case, it might as well break you.
It’s clockwork, working with him. Without rust or a knot in the system, you never feel like there is a task you cannot handle, a case you cannot crack. That ease, that bond, doesn’t come from something messy like what could’ve been. It comes from someone who knows your mind better than you. 
The thought terrifies you at night because you sure as hell think about what could’ve been more than you’d like to admit.
Shaking yourself of the person you were in the restaurant into the person you are, you roll down the window and let rain-slick wind slice into your cheeks. There is a plastic container of gummies on the dash and you reach for it, nerves biting at your fingers. Your other hand reaches for the radio as you respond.
“This is 13-40 and 13-41. We’re five minutes out. We’ll meet the responding units there.”
.
Your whole body drenched in sleet-cold rain, you feel your jaw twitch as David interrogates the man into the corner of the room. You can’t help the pity welling up inside you as you gently tease your hair through a proffered towel, and you can’t help the fire burning in your stomach, warming you from the inside out.
His tactic, getting up close and personal with the potential suspect, always has a way of messing with you.
Shaking it off, you ignore the thoughts that dog at you persistently — the images of him grabbing at Alex Jones and wrenching him to his feet — as you turn away. You squeeze your hair between the towel as you walk through the halls of the station, your heels echoing in the mostly-empty building. Linoleum reflects the artificial light as you reach the locker room, pushing open the door and throwing the damp towel into the dirty wash basket.
Shedding your long rain coat, you sigh and begin to unbutton your blouse. It sticks to your skin like wet paper as the air conditioning puffs goosebumps onto your chest and arms. You unzip your boots, tugging them off before peeling away your pants and examining the status of your socks. Your badge clatters against the wooden bench as you sit down in nothing but your bra and underwear. Your nose twitching, you stare down at your toes and inhale sharply. Rain is clogging up your sinuses, but your socks are dry.
Not soaked through, so boots held up. Good. 
The shower pelts against your skin, hot bullets that slam into your skull deliciously and chase whatever chill rain left on your skin as you hear the door open. Closing your eyes, you let the shower run over your face, focusing on the hissing stream over the clatter of boots you can hear.
It’s nearing 12 AM and you are sure everyone who doesn’t want to be here and don’t need to be here are gone. No one is here more than you and David. No one showers in here if they had a choice. So much for Thanksgiving. Should I be giving thanks that we might’ve caught the sick fucker already? Perhaps.
In your heart, somehow, you know it isn’t him.
Through the shuffling of fabric, you rake shampoo through your hair and begin to lather your body with soap, merely waiting until he shows up as steam begins to soak into your skin. A pair of pants drop to the tile, the clink of a belt against ceramic. Then, soft footsteps that brush against the shower tile and a shadow that blocks out the faint light. Taking a deep breath, you run your hand over your face and pull open the shower curtain. 
“Come here,” you murmur over the steam rolling out of your little shower stall. David steps in through the shaft of light that pours through to your little world before thrashing the curtain back into place. The stall dims remarkably as he leans down to kiss your forehead. You step back so he can stand under your stream of burning hot water and he blinks against the current.
Your forehead rests against his collarbone. His arms rise to run hands through his hair and he cards fingers through the dark strands as your hands encircle his waist. It’s darkly intimate, and all too familiar but you can’t help the addicting heat that he provides. Water runs down his chest and over your arms as you count the tattoos on his chest. One, two, three...
“Any leads?” Your voice is barely audible over the hiss of the shower.
“Aunt’s house.” He has a tattoo of a robin mid flight along his ribcage, and you trace the arc of its wing, palm flat against his heaving ribs. It’s one you know every stroke of, one you watched being carved into his chest. Your eyes close as a finger curls underneath your chin, lifting you to him. “Open your eyes.”
You do to see strands of hair falling into his eyes, his skin red against the blistering heat of the shower. Cupping his face with one hand, you use your fingers to delicately pull away the dark slick hair. His eyes bleeding midnight, his breath ghosts against your lips as his finger trails down your neck. His hand is warm against your throat and he makes sure that your eyes do not stray. As if an astronomer can look away from the phenomenon in the universe, a clash of asteroids, a dying star. He reaches into your mind, pulls you apart like a well-worn book, and reads your thoughts like a diary entry before he pulls out and his eyes fill with shards of glass.
“This isn’t like that,” he promises, insists, convinces you, and you nod because it’s the only thing you can do. Your heart splits in your chest, thrumming in your mouth and crushing your stomach all at once as his gentle grip on your neck firms. Your hands trail his waist, fingers dancing along tattoos that used to have meaning as you count the seconds you can stay standing. “We’re gonna find these girls.”
“Yeah. I know that.”
He sighs, eyes searching your face and you kiss him fully, softly. His lips taste of wind and rainwater.
The shower turns off and the two of you step out, drying each other’s legs and arms, face and hair as is routine when you shower together, and then you get dressed. He clips your badge to your belt, you slide the ring onto his pinky finger. He zips up your boots, you clip the necklace around his neck.
Clockwork.
You toss your hair up into a tight knot and hang your raincoat over your arm. Your gut twisted, you turn to your… something. He gives you a short nod, raking his hair back with rough fingers. You shed your old self, leave it in the shower to slip into the drain.
“Let’s go.”
.
Whilst David went for the Birches, you stop outside the Dovers, walking up the steps. The two of you had gotten no sleep last night after the visit to the aunt’s and forensics for the RV came back negative. Caffeine rules your system as you climb the steps and ring the doorbell.
A kid no older than sixteen or seventeen answers, all pale and terrified-looking. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink either and you press your lips together. Although you empathize with the family, you can’t afford to become attached. You nudge your coat to flash your badge and the kid steps aside. Your fingers unclench from its tight fist as you enter the home.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Ralph. Uh, my dad… I… I saw the RV first. Did my dad tell you guys that?” 
You pause, turning around to spot the kid closing the door. He looks like he’s seen death, and his eyes are wide-eyed and shine under the light through the windows. Poor kid.
“Yeah, I read the statement.”
“Okay, Dad wanted me to, uh, make sure,” the boy says and you follow him to where a blonde sits on the couch, tissues littered around her. “Mom?” The woman looks up as you stick out a hand for her to shake.
“Detective Y/L/N. My partner and I are heading the case for your missing daughter.”
“Yes, of course. Sit. Do you need anything to drink?” She begins to unfurl on the couch but you simply hold out a hand. The woman’s face is sallow and thin, and she looks almost as if she is phasing from another time to your present. You sit down on the couch. Her voice scratches and you wonder when the last time she ate was, the last time she showered or drank or slept.
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m just here to…” Your voice fades as your phone vibrates in your pocket and you dig it out, turning on the screen to see an email notification from David. Opening it up, you frown at the few attachments strung along.
Better photos of the other kid. Heading over to you now. -D
“So, did we pass?” As you watch the bar across the screen signify the speed of your download, you also begin to forward the photos to the Captain.
“Hm?” You are only half-listening. Your phone vibrates again and you open up the downloaded photos, letting out a soft sigh as round, dark brown eyes stare back at you on your tiny screen. What a fucking shame.
“The poly thing. The lie detector we took this morning.” Turning off your phone, you let it fall into your tight fist as you look at the mother. She stares at you as if you hold all the answers and you swallow a tight knot. “Did we pass?”
“Yeah. You’re fine. I don’t think anyone really suspected the two of you anyway,” you say, glancing at your phone again. “Thank you for your cooperation, though. You understand — the formalities we have to take. Precautions.” You tuck a slip of hair behind your ears and her eyes flicker to the movement, gaze following your fingers. You know what she is trying to do and you interlace your fingers, hiding the permanent ink needled into your skin along your knuckles.
“Yes, of course. It’s just… it’s embarrassing. I don’t know. All this fuss — people are just going to think we’re crazy when they show up here, perfectly fine or… I don’t know.” The woman’s arms crossed tight against her chest, she doesn’t even look at you anymore. Your eyes dart to her knuckles to find them stark white, her fingers digging into the flesh of her bicep.
“Do you have any reason to believe they might’ve run away?” The words come out tough as rubber in your mouth. The woman’s eyes close and you sigh, already regretting your words. You know in your gut that that isn’t the case.
“No,” she breathes, “no. They’re happy. They… the must have run away.” A silly child’s game. The woman nods along to her own words as she tries to convince herself. Your heart crumbles to ash in your chest as you force on a smile. “I think they must have run away, right?”
“Of course, Mrs. Dover. But we’ll find them,” you assure, setting a hand gently on her knee. She seems to quiver under your palm as she swallows and looks at you with bleak, earthwet eyes.
“Your police captain told me about the two of you. Um, he said that you and your partner—” You suck in a quiet breath, already knowing what her next words are going to be. You don’t like it, the pressure, the want to keep a record pristine, but your reputation has always preceded you in cases like these. Cases where you just wanted to find the grave and be done with it when your very thought should be finding a warm body, not a cold one— “he told me that the two of you have solved every case you’ve ever been assigned. Is that right?”
Your nails dig into the flesh of your palms as you look away. You don’t want to give this woman hope, even if she needs it. It’s stupid, you realize, to stare at the reflection of yourself when you have already smashed every mirror.
Your nose twitches.
The doorbell rings. The kid, Ralph, goes to get it again as you look up at the woman. She’s beginning to break down, hiding her face in her hands as she mumbles out apologies.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” she whispers through her tears as the door opens. You can see the shadow of him on the walls before he comes in and you shake your head minutely as soon as your gazes meet. Nothing here. “Do you… do you have children, detective?” 
You bite your lip until you taste blood.
“We’re gonna find your daughter.” Mrs. Dover looks up jerkily, flinching at the man’s voice. Closing your eyes, you hang your head as your partner walks deeper into the room. Everything feels like it’s been scooped out of you, replaced with nothing but sick and acid.
You can’t listen to promises you aren’t quite sure you can keep anymore.
797 notes · View notes
wocfics · 5 years ago
Note
reacting to their s/o being yelled at bc of her skin tone? like a latina or black girl?
This is for @and-pearl 
sorry I took so long with getting out an actual reply to this
Seokjin
He immediately jogged backstage after hearing the commotion going on between you and one of the stylists. It was an accident, you were helping clean up when you accidentally knocked over her coffee and it spilled mostly on the ground but some on her blouse. She was in the middle of shouting when Jin burst through the door. 
“You’re not even pretty, not pretty enough for Kim Seokjin, look at your skin color? Just because you can speak Korean doesn’t mean you’ll ever be. We have fair beautiful skin.” She wagged her finger at you. You just kept your mouth shut and looked over at Jin who’s face was now red.
“I think you need to leave if that’s how you talk to my girlfriend. You can go and be ignorant somewhere else, actually, I’ll make sure to let Big Hit know to make sure you won’t work for any kpop idols ever again. Y/N is beautiful, her skin is soft and even if she is darker than us, she’s smarter than you. Get out.” 
He pulled you into a hug and looked down at you. “I’m sorry you have to deal with idiots while I’m on stage.”
Yoongi
You didn’t mind that he wanted to take pictures with his fans, as long as he was okay with it. You always stood off to the side during these kind of things, even though you two were on a date for some lamb skewers. One of the fans, pushed past you and rolled her eyes at you. “Who’s the black girl? Why are you in my way? Can’t you see I’m trying to get to my future husband? You have no chance now go away.”
Yoongi glanced up at the comment and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him and looking down at the younger girl. “No man will respect you with an attitude like that towards others. I would take a picture with you but your comment towards my girlfriend has me thinking otherwise. You’re lucky I don’t find out who your parents are to make them question the kind of child they raised to talk to people with such spite. Stay healthy.”
You squeezed his hand and walked away with him.
Hoseok
“Jung Hoseok! I can’t believe you’re going to marry this girl, aren’t you afraid of what your children will look like with her skin color? She’s very dark and that could ruin your future children. What if they look like her! How dare you jeopardize J-Hope’s future like this.” 
You were in the middle of sharing an ice cream sundae while standing outside the shop until someone walked up to you and Hobi and started shouting. You were tan yes, like most latinas were but was this woman serious? You raised an eyebrow at her and went to look at Hobi when you saw his mouth doing that thing where it looked like a triangle, which meant he was pissed.
“No disrespect, but that is none of your concern or your business. My children will be beautiful no matter what and you should have some respect for my pregnant fiance. Let’s go Y/N.” He handed you the sundae to finish and gently grabbed your hand, walking you down the street towards the car and helping you inside. “I’m sorry people are still acting this way towards you.” He placed a hand on your swollen belly and sighed. 
“It’s okay. I wasn’t listening to her anyways. The ice cream was too good.”
Namjoon
Your Twitter notifications have been going haywire since fans found out about you and Namjoon. You were sitting in the rehearsal room with him and the boys and decided to glance down at your phone and see what people had to say. Your eyes widened at the amount of negativity coming from them.
“Omg she’s black?! WTF?! ew!”
“Of course he’d date someone black but he could have at least found someone with lighter skin.”
“She’s gonna have a fun time trying to find her skin tone in a foundation in Korea.”
Namjoon saw you looking at your phone which then made him look at his and sigh at the comments. He walked over to you and kissed you before taking your phone. “Don’t listen to other people, ignore the negativity. They’ll have to accept you sooner or later.” He kissed you again and pulled gently on one of your curls in your ponytail and grinned. “With people that don’t like you, there are more people who love you, especially me.” 
Jimin
“Hello Army! This is Y/N, my fiance. Her first time being on live so let’s be nice.”
Jimin had you sitting next to him while playing around with the filters until he found one he liked and started reading the comments. 
“She’s like 10 times darker than he is.”
“People with her skin tone don’t have long hair like that, must be a weave.”
“Jimin, please find someone else with light skin.”
Jimin sighed heavily and kissed your cheek before looking at the comments. “You know, she loves me and she loves you guys so let’s not talk about her looks unless we’re talking about how beautiful she is. She does have a lot of hair, sometimes she lets me help her do it. Army, let’s be kind to one another.” 
Taehyung
“What about this one? the dark green looks nice right?” You twirled in the skirt that you were trying on, Taehyung smiling and tilting his head. “I like that one and the blue one you tried on earlier.” 
“Kim Taehyung! I can try on skirts for you, they’ll look even better against my pale skin and stand out more. They look muted on her darker skin and not attractive. I can be your girlfriend, Kim Taehyung.” 
You froze at the ignorance and Taehyung ignored the girl, watching you. “Are you getting the skirts? I think I saw some tops that would go really nice with them too. Get changed, I’ll pay for the clothes, jagiya.” He ignored the hell out of her, because she was calling his name while he played on his phone until you got changed.
Jungkook
“We’ve been together for 3 years now, no rush to get married but I do want to marry her one day. I’ve been posting pictures of her a lot.” “Jungkook stop it.” You laughed while reading over the comments in the live feed. Jungkook squinted his eyes at the comments. 
“She’s the color of my lunch bags, brown and gross.”
“Oh..” You blinked and Jungkook sighed before ending the live and standing up. “Okay, let’s go. I’m hungry.” He pulled you up and kissed all over your face. “So cute, don’t let anyone tell you anything otherwise. Do you have any more of those empanadas? I like eating them with the fried rice I made.” 
“Jungkook, you just ended your V Live!” You followed him out of the studio and into the kitchen. “It was boring and they were rude, I’m not gonna read those disrespectful comments now where did you had those delicious things?”
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mss4msu · 5 years ago
Text
Call Me Doctor. (Steve’s Chapter 9)
Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.
Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader 
Words: 4295
Warnings: Language and ANGST
A/N: Another chapter, another false deadline promise. I’m sorry for how late this has come out. I got dumped at the beginning of July and have had a lot to deal with since then as my ex and I lived together and I had to get him off the lease, figure out how to afford the apartment on my own (but I got a new job so I will be able to!), and start getting my apartment clean of him. But here’s a chapter. 
IMPORTANT: THIS IS WRITTEN FROM STEVE’S PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THIS DEPICTS STEVE’S VIEW FROM CHAPTER 9 OF CALL ME DOCTOR!!
Catch Up On the Story Here
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“Oh, shit,” James muttered. “We should say something to her right?” 
“I don’t know,” Steve said, his face revealing the defeat he felt. “I doubt she would trust anything I said to her now anyway.”
“We can’t just let her go out with that snake,” James flopped down into a seat next to Steve. 
“No, we can’t. But do you really think she’d believe the truth about him if I told her?”
“Probably not...shit.”
Yup,” Steve began to pack up his things, “but I have a class to teach right now. Let’s get dinner tonight and figure it out.”
“Sure, I’ll be at your place at 7. I’ll grab some takeout?” 
“Yeah, sounds good,” Steve replied, leaving the library. 
Steve spent his class unable to concentrate on what he was lecturing, his mind too preoccupied on (Y/N)’s weekend plans. He finished his class early, something he had never done before, and sped home. He tried to busy himself with work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N). 
James let himself into Steve’s apartment and found him pacing the living room.
“Alright, I brought pad thai, pineapple fried rice, and drunken noodles. I thought that might keep you from having to get actually drunk tonight.”
“Very funny,” James responded without smiling, “I don’t plan on drinking for quite a while after last weekend.”
“So what’s our game plan?” James asked as he opened up the takeout containers on the table. 
“I don’t know,” Steve slumped into a chair at the table, grabbing a fork. 
“Well that isn’t helpful,” James said before shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth, “So we don’t think she’ll believe the truth,” James sat back thinking, “What about doing something about his tenure? Can we try to get it canceled so he has to move away? Who runs that department? Heimdall?”
“Yeah, Heimdall just became chair two years ago. I sat on a selection committee with him last year and I think I formed a good enough connection with him that he’ll listen and help out.”
“So you think he could actually do something?”
“We would have to have a reason for him. I doubt they would just fire him and I’m not sure how much I can affect their decision on his tenure in general, but I think I could convince them to at least force him to turn in book chapters sooner? I could say that the University was pressing for me to get a new book out right away, and see if anyone in that department had something they’re already working on that could take its place. It would definitely be a favor though. But that added work might mean that Loki would have to cancel the date.”
“That could work? Seems like a valid enough reason to me.”
“Should I email him or call him? Would a text work? We need to get this to him as soon as possible.”
“Is he the kind of guy who actually checks his email on the weekends?” “Yeah he is,” Steve said, pulling out his phone and typing furiously, “I’ll do that and if that doesn’t work we’ll go to Plan B?”
“What’s Plan B?” James asked, stopping his fork before it reached his mouth.
“I don’t know yet,” Steve replied, finally taking a moment to eat. 
The two men sat in silence as they ate, both thinking about the situation. After they had finished eating, the chime of Steve’s phone broke their silence. 
“It’s from Heimdall!” Steve’s heart was racing as he opened the email and read it aloud. 
“Dear Steve,
I would be happy to help out with the book deadline situation. One of our faculty, Loki Laufeyson is currently up for tenure and working on a book. I’ll let him know immediately that he needs to adjust his schedule and get things submitted faster than originally intended. 
Best,
H”
“Yes!” James exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Would it be weird if I texted (Y/N) to check?”
“Yes, it probably would be,” Steve replied, although he wanted to reach out to her too. 
The two men spent the rest of the night trying to put the situation out of their minds. After James left, when Steve got into bed, he tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. As much as he tried not to, he kept thinking of last weekend. If it hadn’t been for his drunken stupidity, (Y/N) would never had agreed to go out with Loki in the first place.
After a sleepless night, Steve awoke late on Saturday already in a bad mood. He went about his day unable to concentrate on anything as he was too busy picturing the date (Y/N) was going on the next day. He hadn’t heard anything else from Heimdall, which he hoped meant that Plan A worked. As he sat on the couch watching a movie Saturday night, trying to relax just a bit, his phone vibrated. He grabbed it quickly and thought he was going to vomit after reading the message.
Nice try, smart guy. A change in deadline isn’t going to keep me away from (Y/N). Good luck finding something that will. 
Steve immediately took a screenshot and sent it to James. Less than 30 seconds after hitting send his phone was ringing. 
“What the fuck??” James yelled through the phone. 
“That about sums up how I feel,” Steve said, defeat in his voice.
“We have to think of something else to stop him.”
“What if I just beat him up? Would that solve it?”
“Do you want (Y/N) to hate you forever?” James asked. 
Steve let out a long sigh, “You’re right. Shit.”
“What if I told her the truth?” 
“She would probably think I made something up about him and told you to tell her and then she would just end up hating you too.” 
“Damn,” James said, followed by a few minutes of silence. “God, it just makes me sick to think that lying, cheating bastard is going out with (Y/N).”    
“Me too,” Steve replied, his stomach in knots. 
“Ok, I’m going to text him something.”
“James, what are you going to text him that he will listen to?”
“I don’t know, I’ll invite him out or to work on a project or something...I’ll think of something, but I know he doesn’t hate me like he hates you, so maybe it’ll work.”
“Ok, tell me how it goes,” Steve sighed before hanging up.
An hour later Steve’s phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. He unlocked the phone and found screenshots from James.
Hey, Loki! It’s James. I’m working on a new research project about the potential of Russian spies using Nordic religious terms and concepts as code. I’m hoping to really kick this project into gear so I can have something to publish by Spring. I would really like to consult you on this project as I know you have a vested interest in part of the topic. Could we meet up tomorrow and I could get some of your expertise? 
James, as interesting as this topic seems to be, doing a quick google search I have found no reason for the two topics, those being Russian spies and Nordic religion, to be connected. I would need more information before I consider changing my schedule for you. 
I’ve found information on Russians using random phrases, like “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west,” and I’m wondering if there are “pagan” religious connotations to them. For example, I’ve talked to (Y/N) and she said that the Egyptians made connections between colors and directions, so could that be something that this code uses? So they aren’t necessarily coming right out with the religious affiliations, but I’m wondering if that was the inspiration for them. 
You talked to (Y/N) about it already?
Yes I did. So are you willing to meet tomorrow?
I guess so. However, I am busy at 2pm and likely will continue to be preoccupied through the rest of the night.
Oh, shoot. I was actually thinking 2:00 would be perfect. I have a meeting with Natasha at 1:00 to go over the spy aspect and was hoping to be able to stack the meetings. 
Well that’s too bad. I could meet in the morning, but otherwise you will have to wait. 
Are you sure there isn’t a chance you could meet at 2:00? That would really be ideal for the project.
No. I will not miss the things I already have planned for you. 
What if I asked Nat to switch times? Could you meet at 1 instead? 
That would be cutting it close.  
I’d be happy to include you as an author on it to compensate you for your time.
Fine. I will meet you at 1:00 on campus. But this meeting can not go for more than an hour.
Loki, thank you so much for making the time to help me with this project. I’ll meet you in my office on campus at 1:00pm. See you tomorrow!
Steve’s phone rang just as he finished reading the text messages. 
“So, seems like a good plan right? I’m going to have him come to the office and then hopefully make the meeting go long so that he has to stay longer than he wanted to. And then won’t be there for the date!” James said with glee in his voice. 
“God I hope so.”
“And if he’s late, I bet (Y/N) will hate him.” 
Steve’s hopes were rising for the first time since he had first kissed (Y/N), “Buck, thank you for this.” 
“I want you to know that, as much as I love you, I’m not just doing this for you, Steve. (Y/N) is a fantastic woman and she deserves so much better than Loki. She deserves someone who won’t lie to her, cheat on her, lie to her again, make it all seem like it was her fault, and then ruin her career. You definitely made an ass of yourself and her in that bar, but I know you wouldn’t do any of that shit to her.”
“Wow, thanks, just when I was feeling a bit better you had to bring me back down.”
“Sorry man, but I have to be real with you.”
“Yep, sure.”
“Steve, we’re at Plan B. You don’t think we’ll need a Plan C do you?”
“If your plan doesn’t work, I’ll go talk to him.”
“Does that really sound like a safe and productive option?”
“Buck, if your plan doesn’t work, I’m afraid it will be the only option we have left.”
After a long pause James whispered, “Fuck.”
“I feel the same way. Hopefully it won’t come to Plan C.”
“I’ll keep you posted about tomorrow’s progress, just in case. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
The pounding of Steve’s heart was the only thing to break the silence after James hung up the phone. He got ready for bed and flopped down on top of the covers. He just lay there, thinking and worrying. 
Steve didn’t remember having falling asleep when he awoke Sunday morning. His neck was stiff from the angle he had slept at and he had struggle sitting up from the pain. He reached around for his phone but couldn’t find it. With panic setting in, he forced his neck to bend so he could check the floor. He picked up his phone and found it to be dead, which only increased his panic. He hastily plugged it in, and started pacing the floor, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as he waited for the phone to turn back on. As soon as he saw the screen light up he raced to his phone, holding it until it turned on. The phone finally booted up and Steve hastily unlocked it. 
It’s only 8am, he thought to himself. There’s no reason why I should have any messages yet. 
After 5 minutes of waiting and staring at the phone with no new notifications aside from a few emails, he decided there were no updates that he needed to worry about. His breathing finally started to slow down and he relaxed into bed. He scrolled through the new emails, none of which demanded replies, feeling his eyelids getting heavier with each sentence he read. He dozed off with his phone still in his hand. 
Steve awoke to a buzzing on his chest. By instinct he silenced his phone, letting out a big yawn as he groggily rubbed his eyes. He picked his phone up and turned the screen on. He instantly felt sick as he read the messages on his screen. 
Steve, Loki just got here and I think it’s gonna go well (Sent 1:00pm)
Ok, I severely misjudged this. I’ve already excused myself to the bathroom to try to kill time but I think he might be on to me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him (Sent 1:32pm)
STEVE THE MEETING IS ALMOST OVER AND I CANT STALL HIM AND HES LEAVING TO GO TO (Y/N)’S AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN AND WE HAVE TO GO TO PLAN C (Sent 1:43pm)
STEVE HE HAS LEFT AND I COULDNT KEEP HIM AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN. WHY THE FUCK ARENT YOU ANSWERING (Sent 1:47pm)
In addition to the texts, Steve also had 5 missed calls. He looked at the time and realized he had less than 10 minutes to get to (Y/N)’s to hopefully cut Loki off before he got there. Luckily he was still in his clothes from the day before. He quickly got out of bed and ran through his apartment finding his keys, wallet, and helmet before racing out the door. He quickly jumped onto his bike and wove his way in and out of cars to get to (Y/N)’s apartment. He got to the front door with 3 minutes to spare before 2pm. Just as he was getting off his bike he saw Loki walking up the street. He took a deep breath, and walked up to the front door, standing in front of it like a club bouncer. 
“Loki,” he huffed as the other man walked up to him. 
“Steve. I wondered if I would run into you today,” Loki replied with a sly smirk twisting his lip upwards.
“We both know why I’m here.”
“Because you came to admit defeat to a real man?” Loki sneered. 
“Is there one coming?” Steve asked snidely.
“Funny,” Loki said without cracking a smile, “I’m going to need you to get out of my way now.”
“Oh really? And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?” Steve puffed out his chest. 
Loki walked up to Steve until there was just an inch between them. Although Loki had height over Steve, Steve had more muscle. 
“I am warning you one last time. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” Loki spat. 
“No.”
No sooner had Loki pushed Steve on the shoulder than Steve had grabbed his wrist and spun him so Loki’s hand was flush with his own neck. Holding Loki’s arm in a compromising position, Steve shoved him up against the apartment building, keeping him from having an exit.
“I have no problem breaking your arm right now,” Steve hissed into Loki’s ear. 
“Go ahead, tough guy. Let’s see who (Y/N) chooses if you do so.”
“Stay away from her.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“Loki. I swear to God, you better stay away from her.”
“Good thing I don’t believe in your puny God.”
Steve tightened his pull on Loki’s arm, causing a yelp from Loki.
“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Loki said with defeat.
Steve loosened his grip on Loki’s arm, “And where will you be going?”
“On my date!” Loki exclaimed as he took advantage of Steve’s lack of grip and broke free, spinning around and punching him in the face. 
Steve was knocked backwards and just barely grabbed the end of Loki’s shirt as he ran for the door. He didn’t get a strong enough grip on the shirt tails, and Loki made it to the door and called the intercom to (Y/N)’s apartment before Steve could stop him. 
“Hello?” (Y/N)’s voice rang through the intercom, causing Steve’s stomach to flip. 
“(Y/N), apologies for my tardiness,” Loki replied giving Steve a wink and a smirk, “Are you still wanting to go out?”
“Of course!” She replied with an excitement in her voice that made Steve feel sick, “Be right down.”
“Better luck next time, Stevie,” Loki spat. 
Steve growled and got on his bike, walking it forward so he could be concealed behind a minivan parked on the street. Moments later he heard a door open. He watched through the windows of the van as (Y/N) came out the door, a huge grin on her face as she met Loki.
“(Y/N)! Again, my deepest apologies. I was held up,” Loki cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, trying to smooth it out from where Steve had rumpled it. 
“Well you’re here now, so all is forgiven,” she smiled at him. 
“Really? Just like that? Well perfect! Shall we?” Loki asked, nodding ahead. 
“Love to,” she replied.
Loki took her hand and tucked it through and around his arm before guiding her forwards toward the main strip of shops and restaurants. Steve felt absolutely nauseous watching the events before him. He slowly walked his motorcycle down the street, creating a safe distance between himself and Loki and (Y/N) where they wouldn’t see him, but he could still hear them. 
“So, I thought we could go to three different cafes today and get drinks at one and pastries at the others,” he said, loosening up. 
“Sounds perfect,” she said, enjoying the warmth he gave off as you walked arm-in-arm. 
Steve followed them, silently, for a few blocks, pausing behind cars when Loki would look around for him. He was incredibly thankful that there wasn’t any traffic so that he could continue on with what had now become Plan D. 
When they stopped at a cafe, Steve watched as Loki held the door open for (Y/N). He waited a few minutes before parking his bike and going in after them. He quickly grabbed a newspaper from a rack near the door and walked straight to the bathroom as he saw (Y/N) in line, staring at the menu board. After they walked to their table, Steve hastily ordered a coffee to not raise suspicions.
Steve found a seat far enough away from them that he could observe, but kept the newspaper up so that he could be concealed. Although he couldn’t hear their conversations, (Y/N)’s laugh would ring through the shop. Every time he heard it, his stomach lurched. They talked for what felt like eons. Steve had reread the newspaper 8 times when he heard them walk past him, discussing where they were going next. After hearing the door shut, he put down his paper and watched the direction they left. He waited a few moments and then followed them out, trying to keep a safe distance.
When they got to another cafe, Steve repeated the same process. He waited until they were walking away with their own drinks before he ordered. He then found a table of his own near them and resumed his reading of the paper. Steve couldn’t help but slightly drop the newspaper and watch her walk away when she went to the bathroom. The hair on the back of his neck rose, as he felt like she had seen him too. He removed himself a little farther from where they had been sitting when she was in the bathroom and pulled out his phone, concealing it with the newspaper. 
Wrap this shit up, Loki.
Or what?
Or I will talk to your Department Chair and ensure you have a new reason to leave.
Ha, yeah right. What are they gonna do? Give me a deadline of tomorrow for a chapter?
A few people owe me favors, so yes, maybe they will.
The shop was quiet enough that he could hear (Y/N) asking Loki if something was wrong. Steve slipped his phone into his pocket and waited for a moment to step in. Steve watched as Loki hurried (Y/N) out of the cafe, but quickly pulled the newspaper up as Loki began looking around for him. 
Steve repeated his previous actions from the last two cafes when he went to the final one. He felt a fire building inside of him when he realized Loki had taken (Y/N) to his own personal favorite coffee shop. He watched through the window as (Y/N) looked around the shop with wonder and excitement, which made the anger inside of him grow. He wanted to have been the one to bring her here. He should be the one with her right now. Once he saw that they were getting their drinks he went inside and snapped out an order to the waitress, his anger getting the better of him. He apologized when they gave him his coffee and he found a seat to resume his watch. 
Steve sat closer to them at this cafe than he had at the others. He listened in to their conversations, the anger causing the heat to grow in him as he listened to (Y/N)’s enjoyment at being there with Loki. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled out his phone and texted Loki. 
Alright, you son of a bitch. What is it going to take to get you away from her.
He listened as Loki exclaimed about the vibration of his phone and (Y/N) excused herself to the bathroom. Steve held the newspaper up as (Y/N) walked past him, but was afraid she would become suspicious as his hands were shaking with anger and causing the newspaper to slightly move. His phone buzzed on the table before him. 
Nothing you say or do will keep me from her, Steve. I win, you lose. Get over it.
Steve had never felt more angry in his entire life. Nothing with Sharon had ever pushed him to such an anger as this. Knowing that Loki, the man who had stolen his own brother, Thor’s, girlfriend from him, dated her for a month, and then cheated on her with James’s girlfriend, and then turned the blame on Thor and James for not being enough for the women, to the point where James had a breakdown that almost caused for removal from his job due to him skipping classes and missing deadlines, was out with (Y/N) and she was actually enjoying herself had brought Steve to his breaking point. Hearing Loki laugh with her was the final straw. Steve crumpled up his newspaper and threw it to the floor. He stood up and walked towards Loki and (Y/N).
(Y/N) looked up at him and dropped her cup, which smashed into pieces as soon as it hit the floor. 
“Steve?” (Y/N) asked with confusion in her voice.
“Steven,” Loki softly said with panic in his voice. 
Seeing the show that Loki was putting on with (Y/N) just pushed Steve even further over the edge of anger. He took a moment to think and put the right words together to not raise suspicion with (Y/N). 
“Loki, any word on tenure?” he growled out, narrowing his eyes.
“None that I would tell you,” Loki spit back, puffing out his chest.
“And none that you’ll receive,” Steve said,  with an evil smirk.
“Steve, what the fuck?! Have you been following us?” She demanded. 
“I have far better things to do than spend an afternoon off following two dimwits around coffee shops,” Steve replied, the reflection of the fire from the fireplace dancing in his eyes embodying the fire he felt within himself.
Loki sarcastically laughed in response.
“Let’s just go, Loki,” (Y/N) said, offering her hand to pull Loki up from the couch, “He isn’t worth it,” She spit at Steve. 
“Gladly,” Loki replied, taking her hand.
Loki walked over to Steve with (Y/N)’s hand held tightly in his, “Rogers, if you ever threaten me again, I will take this up with the Dean and I don’t think she would be too happy to hear of it.”
Steve just growled in reply, unable to think of anything else he could say that wouldn’t get him into even more trouble with (Y/N) than he was sure he was already in. Steve didn’t bother following them. As soon as they left the anger seemed to leave his body and he was left feeling sick, sad, and lost. It was as though his heart had been crushed and stomped on by (Y/N). He felt terrible that she had been the victim of his anger once again, but even more awful that Loki was the one to pick her up.  
He slowly walked out of the cafe, apologizing quietly to the baristas for causing a scene. He trudged to his motorcycle and drove himself straight to James’s. He didn’t want to be alone. He fumbled with his keys and got himself into the apartment building. He knocked on James’s door and waited for his friend to open it. 
“Steve? What happened?” James asked after opening the door, his face falling as he looked his friend up and down. 
“We lost,” Steve choked out before entering the apartment, slumping onto the couch, and crying. 
CHAPTER TEN
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softbiker · 5 years ago
Text
A Familiar Place - Part 2
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Warnings: a bad word or two, literally zero editing 
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: Not sure if I’m satisfied with this, but posting to celebrate hitting 200 followers!! Thanks for being here, I love you all! As always, let me know what you think :) 
This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.
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“Okay, I’m 100% sure it’s not supposed to look like that.”
“Shut up, bird brain.”
“Will you two stop it I can’t hear the instructor.”
Three soldiers exchange glares behind their easels, brushes poised over canvas. Their stools are set in the back of the class, clustered close together so they can peek over each others shoulders. Other easels are arranged  in semi-circle rows towards the front of the classroom, with the instructor at the epicenter, walking back and forth and making comments to the students. To her credit, she tries to ignore the fussing commentary from the back of the room, only sparing them a glance every once in a while.
An oil painting class. Painting was never Steve’s strong suit - he prefers pencils and charcoal, quick messy sketches under his flurried fingers, captured on the spur of the moment. Bucky faintly remembers a smaller, softer Steve, the graphite on his hands, the smudges that covered his nose. Pencil fixed behind his ear, where Bucky would have placed a cigarette. But when they came here, settled into their place in Bed-Stuy, Steve decided to try out something new. And today he invited Sam and Bucky to join him.
Steve takes easily to new mediums, whatever his protests about not being a “natural” painter. Sam has no idea what he’s doing, but Bucky knows that has never stopped him from having a good time.
Bucky, though.
Bucky feels nervous each time he dips his brush, blends his paints. He feels somehow wasteful, putting his own brush to the canvas. Hand him a knife, a gun, hell - even one of Stark’s high-tech weapons, and he’s steady. A deadshot. But a paintbrush? He doubts every stroke and line. Without a talent like Steve’s, he thinks, this canvas would be better off with someone else.
But Steve is having a good time and he hates to ruin that, so Bucky quietly frowns at his canvas, tongue poking between his lips. Today’s class is a still life, their reference a pale blue vase of flowers on a table in the center of the room. Steve has rendered it beautifully, even captured the soft lighting from the windows on the west wall of the room. Sam’s attempt is passable, for someone with no training at all in studio art.
It isn’t that Bucky doesn’t have some skill, or proficiency, or artistic eye. He remembers sitting through a couple of figure drawing classes with Steve - he managed to learn a thing or two, when he wasn’t winking at the models. And his work isn’t bad, he knows that, but -
Well. He doesn’t think it’s worth making.
**********
He keeps coming to the class for a few weeks, when Steve’s schedule is free from missions and meetings, of course. They sit near the back of the room and Bucky makes good attempts but he’s not really sure if he’s making art.
“You know, I’m really not sure if oils are your medium.”
The class is over, and the instructor stands at Bucky’s elbow, looking at the row of paintings laid along the shelf to dry. Bucky had been comparing his work to his classmates, thinking pretty much the same thing.
“Not that you don’t have a hand for painting,” the instructor continues, hands slipping into the pockets of her overalls. “But I think you’re letting it intimidate you - you put too much pressure on yourself and then you hesitate. I’ve noticed.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky shrugs. “I guess.” The instructor laughed a little, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.
“See? You hesitated to tell me that you hesitate.” She was shaking her head with a not unkind smile.
“Jeez - you have a side gig as a therapist?”
“Nope - just good at seeing people.”
Bucky shifted his feet, not used to the feeling of being closely observed - it definitely wasn’t something he liked. Seeming to sense this, the instructor took a step back, shrugging her shoulders and looking away from him.
“Look, you should keep coming,” she offered. “You have some talent, that’s for sure. But you can try other things. Doesn’t have to be oil paint and flowers. What do you want to make?”
Steve is waiting outside the classroom, reading the bulletin board in the hallway. Fluorescent-colored flyers litter the board, interspersed with lost pet ads, ride shares, roommate offers, and piano lessons. Steve fingers one, tears off the number for an Asian cooking class, and tucks the slip of paper in his jacket pocket. He turns when he hears Bucky’s footsteps, that classic smile curling up his mouth.
“You, ready?”
“Yep.”
They take the subway back, dutifully ignoring the raised eyebrows and cell phones that turn their way. It’s New York - sooner or later people get over it. Bucky’s metal hand is wrapped loosely around a pole that Steve leans against, supersoldier strength and balance making him barely shift as the train speeds and slows.
“Sam is supposed to get back from that recon op this afternoon,” Steve says, his voice low enough keep their conversation private. “He’ll probably want takeout for dinner.”
Bucky nods. “He always does, after a mission. Milks it for all he’s worth, so we have to get his favorite - I bet he’ll want fried rice from that Thai place, and we better make sure there’s cold beer in the fridge.”
Steve just smiles, glances down at his sneakers, shifts his feet a little. He’ll never say a word, a single goddamn word, about how much Bucky and Sam pay attention to each other. About Bucky remembering Sam’s takeout order from every single one of their usual places; about Sam bringing home new exotic fruits from the health food market so Bucky could try things that weren’t available back in the day. He will never breathe a single word about how Bucky took Sam’s laundry and scrubbed the blood out after that mission in Denver went bad, or Sam driving back and forth to Bucky’s therapy appointments, in spite of the distance.
Loose lips, Rogers. Nope. His are sealed.
**********
“If I didn’t know any better, I would honest to God think that Stark didn’t respect me,” Sam shakes his head, shovelling rounded lumps of rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. His cheeks are comically full, but he continues to talk. “I mean, the guy really asked if I needed air support. Me? Baby, I am air support.”
Steve makes a noise of assent around a mouthful of noodles that he continues to slurp into his mouth. Bucky says nothing, but smiles into his egg roll. The coffee table in front of them is littered with takeout boxes, some still full, some already emptied. Steve and Bucky have already finished 2 beers each - Sam is drinking at a slower pace so he can continue to talk.
“I fucking invented air support. Pssh.” Sam rolls his eyes, settling back against the cushions of the couch and pulling his standard blanket over his lap.
The TV is set to a sports channel, a college basketball game they’re not too invested in carrying on in the background. Sam talks and talks, the other two barely getting a word in, but that’s alright - he always needs this, after a mission. Sam has to get it all out, decompress, debrief, de-everything in that post-victory rush of adrenaline he’s still high on when he comes home. They let him - they sit around in their sweatpants and half-watch a ballgame and shoot the shit over beers and Thai, and let Sam come back to himself.
“So,” Sam sighs, sipping his beer. “What’d you old farts get up to while I was gone, huh?”
“Mm, not much.” Steve’s reply is muffled as he continues to inhale his noodles. “Art class. Running.”
“Getting some goddamn peace and quiet,” Bucky pipes up, crumpling up the now empty egg roll bag and reaching for a full styrofoam container of steaming fried rice.
“Ha ha.” Sam doesn’t even look up from his food. “Y’all know it’s boring as hell around here without me. And who else is gonna help you two to meet some females? Hm? You think people are lining up to wingman for your hundred-year-old asses? No way!”
“What would we do without you, Sam?” Steve asks, that ironic twist to his mouth that Bucky has known all his life.
“You’d be star-spangled roadkill, I can tell you that much.”
They laugh and settle, eyes passing over the ballgame as one of the teams lines up for a free throw. It’s just the three of them in their little place, but it feels full. It’s enough. It’s home.
**********
Over the next few weeks, Bucky takes the painting instructor’s advice.
He rolls out huge canvases on the floor and slings paint in random patterns, layers of splatter until he feels like his eyes have crossed. The freedom, the lack of pressure, the fun of throwing paint around like a child - all of that he likes, but still.
“Still not sure if it’s my thing,” he tells Steve, as they look at his finished piece propped up against the wall. Steve nods, lips pursed.
“Well, we could hang it up at the compound. Tony keeps talking about needing more art around that place.”
Bucky just rolls his eyes.
“I’m not five, Steve. You don’t have to hang my scribbles on the fridge.”
He goes back to the studio and slings pots - pots and vases and key bowls and jewelry dishes and mugs. They’re passable, usable, functional - these are the words he thinks of when he glazes them in soft blue and yellow shades. Bucky likes the feel of it under his fingers, the wet firmness of the clay that yields to his hands. He’s gotten little bits of dried clay between the metal plates of his arm, but he doesn’t mind - he’s learned they’re easy enough to dislodge with a toothbrush. He gives away or takes home all of his little projects, happy to see them used.
Sam gifts him with a polaroid camera he found going through some of his parents things, and Bucky fiddles with it until he’s quite good at taking pictures. Whenever they go out he has his camera slung around his neck, an extra packet of film and a flashbar in his backpack. He has dozens of photos now - photos of Steve sipping coffee and flipping off the camera. Photos of Sam and Rhodey laughing, in full gear, when the team had drinks at the compound last month. A few photos of Natasha and Wanda, who come over to the brownstone sometimes - Natasha’s legs are folded over the end of the couch, while Wanda gets a piggyback ride from Steve. He tacks the pictures up, covering nearly half of the wall of his bedroom, not caring about the holes he leaves in the drywall.
It’s Wanda who introduces him to knitting, one weekend when both Steve and Sam get called out on a potential terror situation in London. There’s a rule - unspoken, unwritten - among Steve’s friends that someone comes to check on Bucky whenever they have to leave him alone. He doesn’t protest, knowing that they do it out of kindness and loyalty to Steve; he knows all about being loyal to Steve.
Wanda sits cross-legged on the couch, her fingers working the knitting needles at a hypnotic pace. He likes Wanda; she’s quiet and sensitive, all soft smiles and knowing eyes. A room always feels calmer with her in it. She had used his hands earlier to loop the yarn, and now he watches her over the top of his book, which he has all but abandoned.
When he asks her about the knitting, if she can show him, she looks up. Soft smiles and knowing eyes.
Bucky has always been good with his hands, so no one is surprised that he’s good at knitting. Eventually, they all have something he’s made: a beanie for Sam, a scarf for Steve, fingerless gloves for Wanda, and blankets galore for their too-cold brownstone.
**********
It fills up his time, somehow.
Bucky makes drawings, and paintings, and little origami birds out of grocery receipts. He makes bowls he can give to his friends and pictures that he can keep and blankets that he can share. He scours google and breaks a few (literal) eggs and makes banana bread that fills the brownstone with a smell that he could float on. He makes pancakes and poems and -
Bucky makes.
On the subway with Steve - a figure drawing class tonight - Bucky is staring at his hands. Ungloved metal and soft scarred flesh. His hands are tools, they’re instruments. They can be molds or looms or brushes or chisels.
“Weapons” doesn’t even enter his mind at all.
Tags:
@vacant-writings
@bitsandbobsandstuff
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magioftheseas · 5 years ago
Text
Wuv-Wuv Omurice
Summary: An alternate scene in Chapter 13 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke's Battle of Despair and Wits in which Matsuda makes use of a cookbook.
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Notes: Yeah this was not what I vaguely planned, but it’s what we got. It’s just mlm/wlw cooking solidarity. And Monomi is there for some reason. Briefly, but she’s there. Hope she’s not too much of a bother. I did mean to make this more bonus-y but that just wasn’t in the cards, apparently. But I do still maintain my affinity for writing scenes where the characters cook. And I had to include one such scene here. Please enjoy. Maybe also eat. I should eat.
Read this fic among others HERE
Main story is HERE
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“Mahiru-oneeeeee... It spilled...!”
“Ah, you overfilled it. But that’s okay, Hiyoko-chan. Better too much than too little! Let’s quickly wipe up what fell!”
“Okaaaaay!”
“Ah.” Matsuda popped his lips, tightening his grip on Komaeda’s sleeve. “You two.”
“Saionji-san, Koizumi-san!” Komaeda greeted, unaffected by the way the two returned his cheerful grin with less than enthusiastic grimaces. “Good morning to both of you!”
“Ew, it’s the pests,” Saionji sneered, pressing closer to Koizumi. “You’re finally up and taking the pest pet out on a walk, Matsuda-nii?”
“You wouldn’t answer your door, Matsuda,” Koizumi griped, unimpressed with both of them. “Are you taking this situation seriously?”
“Sorry, I was too busy with other things.”
“Like what?!”
“Things.” He blinked, noticing the rice that Koizumi cooked. It had a nice smell and from the looks of it, better consistency. Clearly fresh, too. He couldn’t help but wonder. “How much of that did you make?”
Koizumi stiffened. Pink touched her cheeks while a scowl marred Saionji’s face.
“It’s not for you!” she huffed. “Mahiru-onee made that for someone else!”
“Koizumi-san, you’re so considerate,” Komaeda fawned, ever adoring. “We are all so lucky to have you here!”
“I’m not interested in stealing the meal she made,” Matsuda snapped. “I meant more the rice. If she’s done with the cooker, I might be able to use it for my own meal.” His thumb jerked in Komaeda’s direction, nearly hitting him in the face, making Komaeda jump a little all the same. “And for his. Obviously.”
“That guy?” Koizumi did frown, brow pinching with uncertainty before she sighed and shook her head. “You should also wake up at a reasonable hour. But if you’re going to be a caretaker, you also best be able to cook.”
“I’ve cooked meals for myself here and there,” Matsuda said with a wave of his hand. Saionji snorted in disbelief and even Komaeda looked incredulous, to his annoyance. “What? Surprised? I’ve actually lived alone most of my life.”
And when mom got sick, she wasn’t always in the best state to be in the kitchen. Of course, I can’t expect them to know that, but jeez what gives them the right to think I’m that hapless?
“So incredible in so many ways,” Komaeda crooned. “I can’t cook at all. I’m just a disaster in the kitchen, ehe!”
“Cooking can be messy,” Saionji muttered. “But it’s fun with Mahiru-onee, I guess. Everything’s fun with Mahiru-onee.”
“You can use the cooker,” Koizumi said. “I made just enough rice.”
She’s not wasteful, huh?
“Awesome.” With that, Matsuda pulled out a cooking book. “I think there’s a recipe for omurice that I want to try. The rice balls gave me an idea.”
“Did you get that from the library?” Koizumi asked, eyebrow raised. “I’m surprised you picked one up.”
“It’s not like the memorization of recipes is a matter of life or death,” Matsuda pointed out. “So, obviously, I’m going to need a cookbook for when I need to cook.”
“That’s not really what I meant.”
“Yeah, whatever. Komaeda, even if you can’t cook, you can clean, right?”
“Yes!” Komaeda exclaimed, delighted to be of use. “I’ll start washing out the rice cooker right away!”
“Rice is ideal with every meal,” Saionji said matter-of-factly. “That book has the right idea. Most of the recipes in it are rice-based.”
It’s because Komaeda needs to eat something other than toast.
Matsuda reads over the ingredients needed, humming as he does. “Alright, after you’re done cleaning, you need to grab carrot, onion, chicken thighs, oil, soup powder, eggs...”
“Y-You should leave it to me!” a shrill voice cried. “I’ll help my precious students cook the most dewilicious meal!!”
“Argh, who invited that rag doll?!” Saionji exclaimed in disgust. “Isn’t the kitchen getting way too crowded!”
Monomi sobbed. “E-Everyone’s partaking in such a wonderful, bonding activity. I’m so happy. I’ll do whatever I can to make it last!”
“N-No, it’s not like that,” Koizumi stammered. “Matsuda and Komaeda just showed up and started doing their own thing.”
“It’s bonding for me and Mahiru-onee,” Saionji huffed. “These two are just pests!!”
“I cleaned out the rice pot,” Komaeda announced cheerily. “Matsuda-kun, what else did you want me to gather?”
“Huh?” Matsuda perked up and decided to follow suit with just ignoring the mascot. “Rice, obviously. But also ketchup, salt, pepper, sugar, green peas, and butter.”
“Understood!” Komaeda chirped, setting the cooker aside before he spun on his heel. “I’ll get them!”
“I-I’ll help!” Monomi squeaked. “L-Like I said, Sensei will help!”
She tottered hopelessly after Komaeda. Koizumi watched warily as Saionji’s expression darkened.
“I feel like if we leave those two to it, something bad will happen,” Koizumi murmured, to which the kimono gremlin shrugged.
“Let it happen. Kill two birds with one stone.”
“You two can leave if you’re that bothered,” Matsuda said. “You’re done using the kitchen, right, camera girl?”
“Yeah, there’s no way I can leave.” Koizumi shook her head. “Hiyoko-chan, if the kitchen explodes, we won’t be able to cook together again.”
Saionji looked horrified at the idea. Steeling her expression with a growl, she stomped over to the two rabbits, shoving past.
“Hurry, hurry! Don’t make a mess!”
“A-Ah, Saionji-san, you’re helping us? You don’t have to!”
“Yaaaay!”
“I’m not doing this FOR EITHER OF YOU!!”
Monomi yelped but Komaeda kept on beaming dreamily.
“Such force...even with how small Saionji-san is, being yelled at by her is incredible.”
“If you keep blathering, I’m going to crush your toes!” Saionji threatened. She grew even more heated when she noticed the oil in Komaeda’s hands. “That’s olive oil, you idiot! Matsuda-nii clearly meant cooking oil!”
“Oh, so sesame?”
“No, no, NO!”
Monomi whimpered. “Please don’t yell at each other. Be friends and work together instead, wuv wuv.”
Koizumi sighed heavily as Matsuda propped up the book. “Yeah. This is the kind of thing I definitely can’t ignore.”
“That sounds like a personal problem,” was Matsuda’s ever expected response. He rolled up the other sleeve of his coat before selecting a kitchen knife. “At least they’re bickering productively, sans the stupid stuffed toy.”
“She helped us make chocolate one time, so maybe she won’t screw this up?” Koizumi suggested. Her face pinched up. “Hey. You are going to wash your hands, aren’t you?”
“You do remember I’m a doctor, right? Washing hands is part of the job description.” He bristles just a little but he does lather up thoroughly and rinse carefully both his hands and the knife. “And what exactly are you going to do besides stare? Take pictures.”
“Maybe a couple,” Koizumi admitted. “But I’m going to bake and flatten some eggs.” She grabs two from the carton and holds them securely in her hand. “That’s part of omurice’s recipe, right? My dad really likes it, so I’ve made it a few times.”
Matsuda blinks a few times, and he scoffs before he starts chopping up the vegetables and meat. “Yeah, that’s about right. I can make the entire thing by myself, though.”
“I’d rather not see a man fuss around the kitchen for too long,” she said. “It’ll irritate me, especially with how hapless Komaeda seems to be.”
He is pretty hapless. It’s hard to argue that when Saionji is lecturing him on powder over there.
“And what you grabbed is flour, not soup powder! And this is cinnamon, not pepper!”
“Ooh,” Komaeda crooned. “I see, I see!”
“You clearly don’t when you’re making such dumbass mistakes!” Saionji screeched.
Monomi sobbed. “T-Teach more gently, please…”
Matsuda clicked his tongue. “Remind me to never ask him to make me a cup of coffee. He might put egg whites in it instead of cream.”
Koizumi surprisingly chuckled.
“Just make your own.”
Matsuda made a face, but the cooking still went well. Everything was chopped. The correct oil was poured. Everything was fried. Everything was mixed. Matsuda shaped the rice balls and wrapped them in the egg that Koizumi made. He arranged his plate. With a giggle, Komaeda arranged his own. Despite being hopeless in the kitchen, he could manage that much. Saionji was huffy although she calmed down when Koizumi gave her a wrapped rice ball of her own and that pout immediately turned into a beam. Monomi was chased off.
Koizumi turned back to wrapping up the meal she made earlier. A packed bento, something Matsuda couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at.
“It’s for Peko-chan,” she said as if reading his mind. “Because someone just told her to guard a dumb machine for hours in the heat.”
“She offered,” Matsuda shot back. A pause. “I’m surprised that candy brat helped you out, though.”
“The sooner Mahiru-onee finishes, the sooner she can walk me to the supermarket to buy all kinds of sweet treats! The same with helping you losers!” Saionji exclaimed, stuffing her face. “It’s simple as that!”
Sure, sure, of course, any generosity you show would be entirely self-serving.
“It’s still such a nice gesture,” Komaeda chirped. “Ah, Matsuda-kun, your arrangement is looking more like, well, a mess.”
“Should I help with that, too? It’d be a problem if you ruined your own meal, doctor,” Koizumi griped.
“I mean if you  want to, camgirl.”
“I-I don’t! And don’t call me that!”
“Yeah, doctor pervo, don’t be a fucking sicko to Mahiru-onee!”
“You really should be more tactful, Matsuda-kun...”
“Puh, puh.” It’s not that big of a deal considering the crowd. “Puh.”
But I really shouldn’t get too distracted.
“Anyway, since you already know about the current arrangement with the chick of the blade, I guess I should just cut to the chase.” He does set aside his plate but turns to Koizumi all the same. “Are you gonna help guard the thing?”
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crowley-fe11 · 5 years ago
Text
Off suppressants
You're now chatting with a random stranger.
You both like johnlock.
Stranger: I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I've just hid it for a while now and I got used to people thinking I was a beta. JW [omegaverse. John's an omega who's been hiding his nature. 18+ just in case if anything happens and if you don't like this, please leave quietly.]
You: You've likely done so so you'd be taken more seriously, especially in your career, right? SH
Stranger: Yeah. And I wasn’t treated that great growing up so I've been talking those suppressants since long before I joined the army. JW
You: I would likely do the same if I were in your shoes. I'm just surprised I hadn't picked up on it sooner. SH
Stranger: But now that you know, I need to talk to you about something. JW
Stranger: Because I'd like to give you a heads up. JW
You: Of course. What is it? SH
Stranger: My doctor wants to take me off my suppressants. She's worried that the long term use is causing problems. JW
Stranger: By also being a doctor and knowing myself.. I think it's a good call. JW
You: I appreciate you telling me. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. SH
Stranger: Do you think our living situation will be okay? Because, I just need you to know that a lot will change. JW
You: I'm certain we can manage. SH
Stranger: We can talk more when I get back to the flat then. JW
You: Absolutely. I take it you'll be on your way soon? SH
Stranger: Yeah. I just need to pick up something from the pharmacy and if you want, I can grab some food on the way if you're hungry? JW
You: I wouldn't mind if you do. Whatever you're in the mood for is fine. SH
Stranger: Sounds good. Give me an hour depending on lines and everything. JW
You: No worries. I'll see you later. SH
Stranger: I'll see you. JW
Stranger: [Would you like to move to paragraphs or nah? I know not everyone likes to]
You: (We can if you'd like, though would you like to start?)
Stranger: [I can start, yeah. And also, I'm pretty quick with replies so if you dont get a response right away, just let me know, some of my messages haven't been going through :(]
Stranger: John soon found himself walking up the stairs to their flat, carrying a bag of take out and a small paper bag with his prescription. He walked in and set the bag of take out on the table near the windows. "I got some Chinese food, if that's alright with you. At first I was thinking pasta or something but then decided on something better," He laughed to himself and then paused for a moment before sighing. He knocked his knuckles against the table and then headed into the kitchen to tuck away his medicine for later.
You: Perched at his microscope, Sherlock heard the footsteps on the stairs that were distinctly John's approximately an hour after the last text in their conversation. As he was certain John may want to discuss the matter further, he finished jotting down a few observations from his slide before pulling himself away and helping John unpack the takeaway he'd brought. "Seems fitting, in a way," he answered as he got out some utensils for them both.
Stranger: John headed back to where he had left the bag of take out and he smiled at Sherlock briefly before taking a container of fried rice. He took one of the utensils and then sat down in his armchair. "What, ah.. have you been up to all day?" He asked, pushing their conversation from earlier for a bit later as he started eating.
You: "Just studying the decomposition of various organ tissues. Not terribly much other than that," Sherlock answered as he grabbed a couple potstickers to go with the box of lo mein, soon heading over to sit in his chair across from John. "How was your day? Aside from your appointment."
Stranger: "It was.. okay," John said slowly, nodding carefully. "I haven't been taking my suppressants since Thursday which is why.. you figured everything out based on my sudden obvious scent." He got quieter and then took in a deep breath, giving a shrug. "Its strange.. going about my regular day and people eyeing me different."
You: "As long as you do what's best for your health, that's what matters," Sherlock assured him. "Though I can imagine that might've been difficult. You're still you, when it comes down to it," he added. "Anyone who judges you differently because of that clearly isn't worth your time."
Stranger: John gave him a slow smile and then crossed his ankles as he took a few more bites of his food. "Well, I'm in for a not so fun week. I have to call off work and I can't accompany you on any case that might pop up," He told him before getting up to grab a couple potstickers for himself. He put one into his mouth before sticking an extra one into his container.
You: "Honestly, if there's anything I can do to make it even the least bit better for you, don't hesitate to ask," Sherlock offered. He could only imagine what things would be like for John until he was completely off his suppressants, and even when he did reach that point. It all seemed so tedious, just thinking about it.
Stranger: John hesitated for a moment, gazing at Sherlock before nodding and moving back to sit in his chair. "Yes, thanks.." He bit the inside of his cheek and then tilted his head, looking down at his food. "She's given me a week of pills to take. They're to induce a heat to try and get things going so that its not a disaster when the suppressants fully leave my system."
You: Sherlock nodded at that. "Would you like me to stay elsewhere during that time?" He asked John. He realised that a flatshare between an Alpha and Omega was tricky to start with, in certain respects, and heats were definitely of the riskiest.
Stranger: John hummed quietly and tapped his fingers against the side of the container as he thought it over. "I know its risky but I would actually rather you stay around in case I need something. I'm worried there will be problems that arise that I'll need someone to be able to call my doctor if need be." He hesitated and then shook his head. "Only if you want to, though. I can always find someone else to stay here with me if you'd rather stay somewhere else."
You: "I think we can make it work. Worse comes to worse, if I find I'm in over my head, I could ask Mrs. Hudson if she could check in on you," Sherlock told him. "Though we'll definitely have to establish some boundaries, depending on what you would be comfortable with."
Stranger: John nodded and relaxed more obviously into his chair. "We can talk things out tomorrow in specifics, yeah?" He flashed him a smile. "I would right now but I want to go to bed early. I've been feeling off all weekend and I can sleep in tomorrow so I'm looking forward to a lot of sleep."
You: "Of course. Take all the rest you need," Sherlock told him with a nod and a reassuring smile. He could see as plain as day that John was exhausted, and some extra sleep couldn't hurt. "Thank you for picking up dinner, by the way."
Stranger: John finished off his container of fried rice and then stood up with another soft smile towards his best friend. "You're welcome. Could you put the leftovers away in the fridge?" He asked, moving into the kitchen to throw away the container. "Preferably /not/ on the same shelf as your experiments," He added on with a laugh. He pulled out his prescription bag and opened it, taking out the container that he had been given. He popped out the first pill and leaned back, checking the time.
You: Sherlock gave a small chuckle before he got up to put the rest of the leftover Chinese away. "Don't worry, I've reorganised everything in there. The takeaway won't be anywhere near those," he assured John as he started to put the containers in the fridge. "And you'll let me know if there's anything else in the meantime?"
Stranger: John grabbed out a glass and filled it with water in order to take the pill. "Yeah, I will." He turned towards the man and leaned against the counter. He walked over to him and set his hand on Sherlock's arm briefly. "Thanks. See you in the morning?" He asked.
You: Sherlock's heart skipped a beat when John's hand touched his own, blinking a few times before he shook himself out of it and offered the other a smile. "I'll see you in the morning," he agreed. "I hope you have a good night, John."
Stranger: John lingered there for a moment before nodding. He pulled away and then headed to his bedroom. He lay awake for a while even though he was exhausted and he thought about the feeling he got when he initiated a touch between them. He had felt something shift slightly between them and he felt a small bit of excitement pulsating inside of him. The next morning, after he was able to sleep for a long while, he dragged himself out of bed. Little did he know that the off feel he had been feeling were signs of his heat, already naturally starting to formulate once he'd been off the suppressants for a couple days. It probably would've taken a week or more for those symptoms to develop into a full on heat but with the pill, it was starting to wake up his body. It wasnt a heat yet, no, but his scent was more obviously a sweet, pre-heat one. He made his way down to the kitchen and hummed to himself happily as he saw the tray of tea on the kitchen table.
You: Sherlock seldom slept much, though it never really bothered him. So it was no surprise when he managed to go to bed fairly late and wake up at the crack of dawn. That's when he figured that it might be best to fix some tea for when John was up. His body was already being put through so much, and really, it was smallest of favours that might even help his morning be a bit better. Though when John did come down, his scent immediately popped out at the Alpha. His heat would be coming soon. "How did you sleep?" Sherlock asked, even though he could see that the other was much better rested than the evening before.
Stranger: John poured himself a cup of tea and then glanced up towards Sherlock with a wide smile. The man smelled very good, John's mind pointed out as he looked over him. So good. It was insane. Had he never noticed before? He cleared his throat and then raised the cup of tea lightly before taking a sip. "Very well, thank you. I don't think I've slept through the night like that in a while."
You: "That's good to hear. You definitely needed the rest," Sherlock told him with a small smile, finding he felt rather drawn to the scent John was putting off, though he knew better. They still had to discuss what the other would feel comfortable with in his heat, and it seemed that was becoming a rather urgent topic. "Have you given the subject from last night much thought?" He asked as he sipped from his own mug.
Stranger: John leaned against the counter, sipping at his tea thoughtfully as he rolled the question around in his head. "Not much thought.. haven't had a lot of time to think about it yet." He set aside his mug and crossed his arms lightly. "Have you given it any thought? Any ideas?"
You: "Well, what are the things your doctor advised you should keep an eye on? Depending on what it is, I may just need to knock on your door to make sure you're faring alright, and keep you stocked up on food and water. But it also depends on what level of involvement you'd rather me have," Sherlock told him with a small shrug.
Stranger: John sighed and looked down for a moment. "Yes, well that all sounds good. The things she's most concerned about is the potential of bleeding and such," He explained lightly. "Which I'll be able to keep track of myself." He uncrossed his arms and set his hands the edge of the counter, shrugging as well. "So yeah, water and food is probably all you need to worry about."
You: "Right," Sherlock murmured as he considered it. "This might seem like an odd suggestion, but as I have the adjoining bathroom, perhaps it would be best if we traded rooms for the duration? Unless you'd feel more comfortable with the familiarity of your room still, which would be fine nonetheless. It's entirely your choice."
Stranger: John hesitated and then nodded slowly. "I actually quite like that idea. It might be fairly helpful." He crossed his arms again and tilted his head. "Are you okay with staying my room for the week, then?"
You: "Well, yes. It seems fair, and it would be fine temporarily," Sherlock answered. "So, is there anything in particular you'd like before it sets in? Anything I can pick up to make it more bearable for you?"
Stranger: "If I can remember back to the last time I had my heat which was, mind you, back in college, I think I was craving salty foods around the clock," John rubbed the back of his neck and then idly started itching at his scent glands, finding them irritated and sensitive.
You: Sherlock couldn't help but feel the slightest bit tempted as John's fingers rubbed over his scent glands. "Alright, I can pick up some things along those lines. Unless there's anything else you can think of, you can make sure you'd be comfortable in my room."
Stranger: John's eyes drifted shut and he tilted his head more as his nails scratched at his skin. He pull his hand back and hummed quietly. "Yeah. I'll go make sure right now," He mumbled and then reopened his eyes. He wet his lips and then nodded. He brushed past Sherlock as he walked towards his room and shuffled down the short hallway in the back of the kitchen that led to the room.
You: Once John brushed past him, Sherlock could feel his nerves light up, and intoxicating desire flash across his mind. "I'll.. be back in just a bit then?" He told the other as he immediately rushed to get his coat, not even giving John a chance to respond as he tried to hide how much his face was starting to flush. "Yes. Good. See you."
Stranger: John was a bit startled by the sudden movements but he brushed them off as he walked into Sherlock's room. He hesitated in the doorway and suddenly realized this was a very bad idea. But he didn't want to leave. He walked in slowly, leaving the door open behind him as he crawled into the alpha's bed. He ran his hands over the sheets and then buried his face into the pillows, breathing in his scent. He could feel warmth spreading through him rapidly as he surrounded himself in Sherlock's things. He raided the closet, starting to pull out soft items of clothing, towels, extra sheets, a robe. He pulled it all out and onto the man's bed. His mind had zoned in on this one task, basically making a nest out of all the things he had found. Once he had finished, he tucked himself into the center.
You: Sherlock walked to one of the corner shops near the flat, figuring a walk would help to clear his head. He had to get past his impulses if this was ever going to work, especially in the long term. And he wasn't going to lie. He liked John. Perhaps as more than a friend, and perhaps since before he found out his true nature. But it was clear that John liked him simply as a friend, regardless of whatever hormonal spikes he was having. He had to be there to support him. A short while later, Sherlock had taken enough time to compose himself as well as pick up crisps, and any other comfort foods he could think of that John might enjoy during his heat, and he soon returned to the flat, ready to help John get settled in however he needed before it came on.
Stranger: John had shed his jumper and the tshirt he'd been wearing underneath. He tossed them aside but kept on his pajama bottoms for now. He rolled around into the nest of Sherlock's stuff, trying to find a comfortable position. He was rosy cheeked and rather in heaven at the moment being surrounded by the strong scent. He soon found a position on his stomach and some of the sheets tangled around one leg.
You: Sherlock opened the door with bags in tow and was immediately hit with John's scent, heavy and tempting all on it's own. Oh no. Perhaps he miscalculated. Heats after suppressant use could hit harder than unsuppressed heats. And he could see that his door was still cracked open. Sherlock held his breath as best he could. "John?" He called out. "Shall I leave the snacks at your door and leave you be?"
Stranger: John heard Sherlock's voice and he raised his head slowly, a small whine escaping. He carefully climbed off the bed and then walked to the door, opening it more fully. His hair was messed up from rolling around and nestling into the bed. His skin was flushed and his pants sat a bit lopsided on his hips. "Hm?" He tilted his head, resting it against the doorframe. "What'd you get?" He asked.
You: Sherlock bit his lip at the sight of John, so bare and disheveled. "Here, just..." He stammered as he moved closer to hand the other the bags of essentials he'd picked up. "There's water, and crisps, and lots of other things. You can text me or tell me when I check in if there's anything else you need. But it seems like you should have time to yourself about now..."
Stranger: John took the bag slowly, his fingertips brushing against Sherlock's. He hesitated and then nodded, turning slightly to drop the bag unceremoniously behind himself. His hand reached out shortly after, grabbing ahold of Sherlock's wrist. He looked up at him, taking a slight step forward. "Your room smells like you.." He told him before lifting Sherlock's hand in order to nuzzle against it.
You: Sherlock's heart raced as John took his hand, nuzzling against it. He felt warm to the touch, and his cheeks were flushed and rosy. "I imagine it would," he answered in a whisper, swallowing as he tried his best to stay focused. "If you really want to spend your heat alone, I suggest you go back inside and close the door," he told the other softly.
Stranger: John hummed shortly and then looked up at Sherlock again. "Maybe I don't want to be alone.. but I am too scared to say it out right," He murmured to him. He nudged his nose against his hand again before reluctantly dropping it. He then lifted one hand, touching Sherlock's chest carefully with curious little taps.
You: John's touch sent warmth running through the Alpha, and his ability to resist was beginning to fail. "I may be willing," Sherlock told him softly as he reached up to caress John's cheek. "But I just need to confirm that it's what you'd want, even after this is done."
Stranger: John tilted his head into his hand, biting down on his lip as his eyes closed. "Mhm.." He pressed closer and dragged his lips against Sherlock's hand as he tilted his head. "I want this.. I think I've wanted it for a while.."
You: "As have I," Sherlock breathed, the last of his self-control vanishing as he closed his eyes and leaned in to press his lips against John's, his arms wrapping around the Omega to pull him closer and kiss him more deeply.
Stranger: John's arms wrapped around Sherlock's neck and kissed him back deeply as well, threading his fingers into the alpha's hair as he moved their lips together. He moved up onto his toes and exhaled through his nose sharply as parted his lips lightly.
You: Sherlock sighed into the kiss and parted his lips as well as his hands caressed over John's bare body, eager to touch at long last, feel every part of the other that he could.
Stranger: John tilted his head into the kiss, pushing his tongue past Sherlock's lips in curiosity. He took a couple steps back, trying to guide Sherlock ad his feet stumbled a little bit.
You: Sherlock followed into his bedroom as John guided him, keeping him steady with his hands on his waist, letting his tongue begin to explore John further as he kissed him back with more passion, more hunger.
Stranger: John soon parted their lips however, breath trembling a bit as he panted. He let go of Sherlock slowly and then pulled away completely in order to climb onto the bed. "C'mere.." He urged, reaching out towards him with an expectant look.
You: Sherlock shrugged off his coat as John moved to the bed, though he still felt immensely overdressed as he took in the sight of him, laying in a nest of the Alpha's things. "Oh, definitely," he assured him as he began removing his suit jacket and undoing the buttons of his shirt as quickly as he could manage.
Stranger: John bit down on his lip hard, his pupils dilating a bit as he watched him. He panted a bit harder and then gave a soft whine as his need overflowed. He wet his lips slowly and then gave a few open mouthed pants. "..Alpha.. c'mon," He begged quietly.
You: Sherlock toed out of his shoes before leaning in to kiss John softly to help placate him as he moved on to undoing his trousers. "Nearly there, John. Just want to join you properly," he soothed as he pulled them down and climbed into bed with him, gently embracing him.
Stranger: John kissed back firmly before Sherlock pulled back to undo his trousers. He suddenly remembered his own and shimmied out of the pajama bottoms before smiling at Sherlock when he embraced him. He rolled on top of him so that the alpha was on his back and he straddled his hips as he nudged their noses together.
You: Now that Sherlock was in the nest that John had created, it was evident just how much it smelled like him and his heat in the time he was gone with the errands. He gazed up at the Omega adoringly as he straddled his hips, letting his hands rest on them as he brushed his nose back against the other's. "You're incredible..."
Stranger: John let out a shaky breath and then pressed a short kiss against his lips. "Thank you.." He whispered gently and then pressed another, slower kiss against his lips. He rocked on his hips gently and moved his lips carefully against Sherlock's incredibly addictive ones.
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shazyloren · 6 years ago
Text
Praise The Deity
Summary:  Jon's new neighbour may just be the most sexually active person alive, which would be okay, if he hadn't had four hours sleep in four days hearing it. He's not happy, but there might be something he can do to punish her...
Notes: As you know, I am taking part in a challenge on tumblr by user @jonerysfics and @mhysaofdragons in which for seven days from Valentines day I am uploading a new one shot. The prompts have been provided and the stories have all been written and I gotta say you're in for a lot of Jonerys content.So Day 2, 15th February, which is when I'm uploading this, the prompt I chose was 'Hot Neighbour'. This is the story I came up with a while ago and was on my poll to do i had after the room. But it's hear and... it's hot.I really hope you enjoy, please leave kudos and comments if you do, it will mean the world!
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17798669
---
That’s the fourth fucking man this week and it’s only Wednesday morning , he thinks as he throws the pillow over his head and prays to a deity that it’ll stop sooner rather than later.
He knows it’s useless in praying, he may as well be asking for Dragons to exist or for himself to suddenly be deaf and not have to hear a single thing. He didn’t have a problem with anyone getting their funk on, like do as you please. But his new neighbour was taking the piss.
His older neighbour had died after a particularly bad case of heroin addiction, and it was an awful thing to see them spiral out of control, but at least the man hadn’t been shouting that he was gonna edjaculate all over someone’s face every night.
It infuriated Jon.
People had no class these days, and it was easily shown.
He had only briefly seen the neighbour once, a small blonde girl who looked as if she’d murder anyone who looked at her incorrectly. But clearly he’d misjudged her to be a sex mad lunatic instead, unsure if he’d rather she’d just be a murderer.
‘God you’re so big’
That’s the last straw then, he doesn’t care if she’s in the middle of her greatest orgasm of all time, he was putting his clothes on and he was going over there and giving her a piece of his mind.
Chucking his bed pillow back onto the small and indented bed, careful not to accidently put his scrubs for work on instead, he throws a pair of jogging bottom and a thin grey shirt on in the dark. His eyes roll over the alarm clock.
3:47am.
Unacceptable, he had to be at work in less than two hours and he’d had about four hours of sleep in as many days. It wasn’t good, he’s had more sleep than this when he was on call during his first days at the hospital.
Sliding his feet into his grey slippers and feeling around for the light switch he flipped it and waited for his eyes to get used to the light. As he began to move again, he began walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water first off, he drank the glass in one gulp.
‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum, yes, oh baby’
He hated how thin the walls were, almost like rice paper and definitely more than happy to let him hear the ridiculous noises next door. He’s already complained about it to his brother on the phone, but the response he got was less than helpful and made him shudder to think.
Go join in , that had been his advice.
Jon had not had sex in the best part of two years, his job at the hospital had been his main focus and when he wasn't there, saving people’s lives, he was generally sleeping to catch up with the long hours he was doing. Well, until recently that was.
Right, that’s it, I’m going over.
Jon, with a fervour and resonance inside him, marches over to his front door and unlocks it with haste. As he opens the door, he hears them ‘finish’ for want for a better phrase. Jon slams the door behind him, key in his pocket so he could get back in and turns to face the door next to his. Someone down the hall, pokes their head out of the door, clearly having heard all what’s gone on.
He pulls his hand back and with a seething anger within him, slams his fist down three times on the door, loud and clear.
There’s a yelp and a shuffling behind the door, a prolonged silence follows which gives Jon the chance to calm himself down and remember to remain calm about the situation. Five minutes of sleep is all he’d had, if the woman knew, she’d be reasonable, surely.
The door opens in one long swing and standing there is not the woman he’d seen, but a man of similar height and build to Jon, a beard too. He’s wearing his jeans but not much else and his face is smug as if he knows why Jon is here.
“Can I help you?” The man puffs his chest out, two could play that game.
“Get your shit and get out” Jon snuffs, his anger rising. The man looks disgusted but when Jon glares daggers at him, he holds his hands up and takes a step back. “Go on, get out of here!”
The man scurries then and runs off to somewhere he doesn’t know. There’s a hushed discussion and an incredulous shout but sooner than Jon imagined, the same man came back into the room with his shirt on and darted past Jon out of the door. He watches him leave and then, his attention is drawn elsewhere
“Who the hell are you?” Now all he has to deal with is this fiery blonde he’d only seen once, who had just entered her hallway with a red, silk robe on and nothing else. She was short, but beautiful, and yet she was glaring at Jon like she wanted to take a spoon and scoop his eyeballs out for stepping foot into her home.
“Your neighbour, I think you forgot you had some” He comments offhandedly. “I don’t care if you’re having fun, making money or whatever the hell you’re doing with all these men at all hours in the morning-” He started, her face looking offended at the mere mention of her being a prostitute. “-but I am a nurse at St. Maegor’s Hospital and I have had five minutes of sleep tonight, and thirty the night before, and almost an hour the night before that because of your fucking antics! I have to be up in two hours, reckon you can keep quiet long enough for me to sleep?”
There was almost a flush of embarrassment that swept across her face, but it was only there for the smallest of moments. Jon noticed her eyes were purple, a colour he’d hardly ever saw in people. Her hair was also a really white shade of blonde, almost silvery in appearance.
“Tell me, neighbour, does me having lots of sex make you angry, because you’re not having any?” She asked, stepping closer to him, making him slightly uncomfortable.
This bitch, honestly.
“I’m angry alright, angry that you can’t keep your legs closed at three in the morning” He retorts, his words sizzling on the air. To his surprise she doesn’t yell or curse, she just laughs, a wicked glance in her eye.
“Keeping the legs closed is for boring people, sex is fun” She teased, her eyes assessing him, as if he was meat. Jon did not like that feeling. “You should try it some time”
“I save people, I have a fifteen hour shift tomorrow, I don’t need sex or anything else so trivial, I need sleep” He hammered his point home emphatically yet the power in the conversation shifted. She walked a couple of steps closer to him. “What are you doing?”
“Neighbour, wouldn’t you like to know what you’re missing out on?” She winked for all intents and purposes, Jon couldn’t believe how forward she was being, and he knew that he needed to get out of the apartment or things would get dangerous.
“No I don’t, just keep the noise down” He cut her off, a scathing remark as he left and marched over to her door, pulling it back and storming out of the room. The door closed behind him and he sighed in relief as the cool air blew over his face. Shaking his head from the strange confrontation, he unlocked his own door and stumbled his way through to his bedroom.
I fucking swear to god if she doesn’t let me sleep I’m going over there and gagging her with duct tape .
--
Jon’s shift at work was busy, so much so he didn’t end up getting home until 11pm. When he walked up the outdoor stairs to his floor, he saw the woman he so very much did not want to see, outside her door, looking miserable.
“Waiting for a customer?” Jon chortled.
“Very funny, arsehole” She snapped back to him, wrapping her cardigan around her tighter. “If you must know I’m locked out”
“Can’t say I feel sorry for you” He shrugged and opened his own door. “Let me know if you need water, I’ll be sure to bring it out to you in a dog bowl”
“You know what, Jerk, I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten any sleep because your horny for sex and all, but don’t fucking be a prick! You’re not the only person with a life here, you know?”
Jon didn’t care for anything the woman was saying. When you’ve had six hours sleep in four days you tend to not overly care at all.
Fucking everyone else can be quiet in the early hours in the morning, so you should too.
“You’d know about it, if I was horny for you” Jon smirked before slamming the door on her and throwing his keys into the bowl by the door.
He goes to making dinner and decides on something simple like Stir Fry. He slices peppers and onions and grabs bean sprouts from the tray in the fridge. He creates his own sauce and fries the chicken off first. The smell is incredible, and he’s definitely hungry when he hears his stomach rumble.
He soon realises however, he’s made far too much. Why did my father raise me to be a nice person? He thinks to himself and so, reluctantly, he sees if the woman is still there, waiting for the super to let her in. He opens the door, and she is in fact still there.
“What do you want?” She grumbled, her face a little pale from the cold and her body shaking.
“I was gonna make amends, but I’m not so sure now. I don’t think I should be letting someone freeze to death outside our apartments. Come on, I’m made too much dinner, do you want some?” He asks nicely, trying not to moan about the night before.
“What is it?” She asks.
“Chicken Stir Fry”
Is she going to come in or not?
“Fine, but only because it smells delicious” Jon, showing the women through the door and to his living room, brought her a bowl and poured the remaining into it. He then grabs his own from the kitchen and comes to sit back down with her.
He flicks the TV on.
“Fucking never anything on at this time of night” Jon grumbles.
“Are you serious?” She screws her face up. “Gay Paranormal Historian Truckers is on Channel Five at midnight and it’s the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel”
“What on earth is that show about?” Jon screws his knows up.
“Gay Historians Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon hunt ghosts in their large truck. Gay Paranormal Historian Truckers, duh” She shovels food in her mouth and Jon doesn’t know why the events that have occurred have led to this, but he’s annoyed.
Still, he flips over to Channel Five anyways.
‘Jesus, Loras, it’s behind you while you’re driving!’ One guy says to the other. ‘The fucking ghost of Henry VIII!’
‘Tell him we didn’t kill Jane Seymour!’ The other one replies. ‘Tell him we did kill Anne of Cleaves, spiritually, that was his least favourite wife!’
‘Loras we’re gonna drive off the road, ain’t no time for telling fibs!’
Suddenly, the girl next to him was howling with laughter as the two truckers on the screen manage to avoid a huge dip in the road and regain control of the truck.
Jon didn’t understand the appeal of the show, but after a 15 hour shift, he didn't care. It was entertainment nonetheless.
“I just realised I don’t know your name” She says out of the blue.
“Jon” He sighs, not wanting to be known as the jerk neighbour. “I’m surprised I don’t know yours given the thin walls”
“Oh I never give out my real name to strangers. It’s always Katy or Bethany or Sally” She laughed, a half snort which he had to admit was odd coming out of her mouth. “But it’s Daenerys, or Dany for short actually”
“Strange name” He commented.
“Strange gal” She pointed to herself.
“That I will agree on” He nodded.
“Shove off” She cheekily smiled.
What the hell is going on? Jon finds himself thinking. One moment he’s banging on this woman’s door cus she’s shagging loudly the next she’s in his living room and he’s cracking jokes with her.
“I didn’t mean for you to lose sleep” She admitted. “I respect you for having the balls to come over and yell at me”
“Well, I didn’t want to do it, but you left me with no choice” He shrugged. “I’m a senior Nurse, we’re responsible for people’s health. If I make one incorrect diagnosis, or administer the wrong drug, the results are damaging. Sleep means I’m focused”
“And I’m sorry” She puts a hand on his knew so he knows it’s genuine. “I’ve been through a rough patch and well there’s no excuse but I’m not generally like that”
“It’s fine, I don’t need to know. Like I said, I don’t care who you’re sleeping with just, be respectful of your neighbours”
She nodded, there’s a brief silence as they watch the show.
“You’ve been nice to me, maybe you should’ve been the one in my bed instead. Mother would definitely approve of you”
“Pfft, you wish” He jokes.
There’s a small nod between the two of them before they burst into laughter. Jon feels pleased about the outcome of this chat, and he had to admit, the show was quite entertaining in the end. He looked at the clock and saw it read half twelve, he really needed to be going to sleep, so he could be up at 5:30 for work.
“You can stay on the sofa if you want” He offered. “It’ll be too cold now out there”
“Thank you, I appreciate it” She smiled, picking up both bowls and taking them through to the kitchen, he guessed to save him doing it as he was going to the trouble of letting her stay over.
Jon switched the TV off and tidied up a little, a weird feeling on the air as he realised he’d be able to sleep without trouble that night, but also with the girl who had been the source of his troubles a room away. But as he got a blanket out of a cupboard, and placed it on the sofa for her.
It would’ve been fine if she hadn’t mentioned me being in her bed.
“So, there you go” He put his hands in his pockets and fumbled a bit. When she nodded he started to walk away, this uneasy feeling in his chest.
“Jon?” He hears behind her, almost seductive in tone but curious too. Jon curses himself that he turned around in that moment, but he did and she was looking at him like a woman hadn’t in a very long time.
“Yes, Dany?” He’s tired, but he knows what she’s going to ask. And if he’s honest with himself, he wants her too.
“Can I join you?”
There was a moment, where everything that had happened between the two of them in the past twenty four hours was a complete mess, forgotten, remembered, infuriating, calming. And stupidly, or not stupidly, his reply was sure.
“I think that can be arranged”
--
Her panties were still on but he didn’t let that stop him, nosing them out of the way and tonguing her sex, making low, growling noises in his throat like a big cat purring with pleasure while it devoured its prey. She was small, and sensitive and everything his sex drive was missing.
He teased her like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to make her suffer for the things she’d done with the others. He was slow in his licks, teasing in the flicker of his tongue. He wanted her to feel frustration and the overwhelming sensation of being so close to the edge.
He would take it away when she was close, he would hold that power over her. It was the wildness of it that got him going: the primal lust, the sheer needs of two people in heat, quickly finding ways to express their sacred hunger to each other in animal passion.
He was someone who had gone so long, finding the drive deep within and exposing it. She was in the thick of it, feeling no control over her hormones. It didn’t matter to either of them, they both had to do this.
Fuck, she tastes good.
“Mmm” It’s her first loud moan of the night and Jon wonders if his mind is going to have flashbacks, but somehow, hearing the girl come undone from his doing made the sound sweeter. “Yes, Jon, eat it”
A muffled response is what he gave her. “Say please”
This was a problem for them both, he could tell. This was a huge problem, and his assault on her cunt  wasn't about to make it any better. Her mouth was dry, but the words came out clear enough:
“Yes, please, Jon. Eat my pussy.” She opens her legs further, his fingers now holding her underwear to one side so he can fully eat this five course meal in front of him.
His eyes glance upwards and sees her, head back, hands on her breasts, squeezing her nipples tightly. Her skin is so smooth all over her, not just her legs and butt, she was an ongoing miracle of skin and lust and he wanted to bath in her every desire.
“I’m going to make you come so good, naughty neighbour” He growls almost, not recognising his own voice. She responds viscerally by leaning into his hand and mouth, wanting the ending he teased her about.
His tongue doesn’t need to work too much magic, midway through his assault on her cunt, she begins panting heavily and seconds after, gushes all over his mouth and hand. He’s shocked. “Ohhhh”
“Did you just have an orgasm, after hearing me talk about giving you an orgasm?” All she can do is sob in reply and Jon suddenly feels glad that he had the balls to go over to her apartment last night. “I think you just came ’cause I’m fingering your sweet pussy and talking dirty to you – you know why?”
“W-why?” She pants as Jon doesn’t stop, but increases his tempo.
“Because you’re so nuts for this. Aren’t you, baby girl? I can feel that hot little pussy clenching around my tongue every time I move a muscle or say a word – ohhhh, yeah. Yeah, arch your back so I can look at you going nice and tight around my fingers. You gonna do that around my cock?”
The noise that escapes his companions mouth is enough to categorise this night as the best he’s had in months. She’s giving in more, wanting more and he’s ready to give more.
Come for me, Dany.
She did, and it was glorious.
Jon licked as much of it up as he possibly could before the frenzy that was the removal of their remaining clothes. Jon’s cock sprang free and he swore he’d never been harder than the sight of this complicated and feisty woman writhing in ecstasy in front of him.
Seeing her in his bed, lying there breathless, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon, and for a moment, he wished he could keep her. But it was just sex, and so he’d make it the best sex the world had ever known.
“Daenerys, I give you permission to be as vocal as you wish from now on, because I am going to blow your mind in a few minutes and I want to hear how much you enjoy the ride.” He taunts her almost, a promise he was determined to keep. “We’ll see how those other men did a bad job  when I’m done”
“I want that” She hisses.
“Excuse me?” Jon’s cock was ready to enter her, his hands pushing her legs wide with authority and strength. She was still teasing her own nipples.
“Yes, please, I would like that” She moans.
“Better” And with that, he pushed his head inside her and went for the first thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, and in some way surreal. Despite her many male partners the past week, she felt tighter than he’d ever imagined. The way he felt inside her, as if he was meant to be inside her.
“Oh, Jon” She sighed, unprepared for the depth and pace he was going to give her. He was going to fuck her with the unchained, debauched craving of a man condemned to die at dawn, or at least one who had to get up early for work.
Jon had experience lust before, he’d had his fair share of uneventful evenings and decided to pick up a girl, he knew what good sex was and how to please a girl, but as he thrusted into this magnificent fair woman underneath him, as he watched her face contort with the throes of pleasure, he didn’t understand lust completely until now.
Jon goes deep inside her, as far as he can, until his stomach is touching hers, her legs spread as far as humanly possible. He slowly pulls out inch by inch and watches as she becomes hungrier to be whole again.
“Very good” He coos as she moans and thrashes beneath him. “You ready?”
She only mumble in reply, a small smirk on his face as he pushes into her with speed and back out again just as fast. For want of a better word, she screams to high hell. “Ohhhhh god!”
Pulling up a leg to sit on his shoulder, he holds it there with one hand, his other, he uses his thumb to circle her clit while he thrusts his hips quicker than ever. She’s slick and wet, oh how wet she actually is.
“You’re a bad girl, making me lose sleep, you know that” He growls with each thrust into her moist cunt. She’s crying in pleasure, tears running down her face. “Tell me, tell me how bad you are, Daenerys”
“So bad, so very bad ohhhh” She moans and groans and each syllable that comes out of her mouth is a motivator to thrust harder. “Punish me, do it Jon”
So, egged on by the girl under him, Jon slaps her pussy while he’s inside her and watches her come undone beneath him. She loves it, she’s a filthy whore for him and they both know it. He wants to fuck her pussy all night, he could do, to punish her for her bad behaviour. He slaps her there again. “Smack those pretty tits for me”
She does as she’s told and suddenly, this primal and controlling part of Jon, who’s hair was starting to get soaked from the heat the two of them were creating, erupted. “Again?” She asks after rubbing the place her titties were now red. “You want me to keep going?”
“Again, you naughty girl” He commands and she does, wincing as she does. The next once she lands, he also slaps her pussy at the same time, making her writhe in painful pleasure once again.
She’s getting wetter and it’s at this moment he knows she’s not lasting long. He lands five sharp slaps on her cunt in a row and watches for her reaction. “You gonna come for me again, neighbour?” She nods desperately. “Do you want to come?” Again she nods. “Of course you want to, you filthy whore”
He is both ecstatic and flabbergasted by how much of a needy, wanton slut he somehow has turned her into, who even after two shuddering orgasms, wants to experience a lot more, who craves another release.
She looks as if she needs to speak to him, but the power of words had once again deserted her. The pleasure was climbing, spiralling high and fast, taking them both by storm. Unable to hold back, he leaned forward and hands slipped to her tits. She clutched at him and he at her; sensation gathered there, in the very centre of her body and on his dick, the place he possessed so fully. Had she surrendered? He wondered as she screams louder and louder.
He watched as she closed her eyes and flung her head back. Release was close for them both. He could feel it coming, shivering throughout her body as she begins to tighten around him. He feels himself losing control as she shivers around his cock, gushing as she did. He kissed the arch of her throat.
"Dany" he said, his tone almost raw. "Oh gods, Dany"
Her nails bit into his shoulders as he pushed up into her for the last few thrusts. The walls of her channel contracted around him again, again and again and again, sending spasms of release hurtling through them both.
“Fuck” She whispers, as he creams inside her and they lay there in what was now the aftermath of their crazy sex.
He doesn’t move for a while, a bold and disgusting thought of making sure his swimmers punish her for the time she kept him awake passing through like a fleeting memory. He pulls out and instantly they both ache for one another again. His seed leaks out of her yet she is so immobile, frozen with sweat and disbelief at the orgasm they both had.
“So” He starts. “Are you gonna keep me awake again?”
“No, Sir” She sighs all flustered.
“Sir?” He grimaced slightly. “You make me feel old”
“Shut up, idiot” She gently smacked his arm, her chest rising and falling. She turns on her side, his cums still glistening in her cunt. “So” She then mimics him. “Round two?”
Well shit.
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