#making dinner

[adnauseum11]

Arrival and Assembly Operations (John Price x Reader)

John arrives unannounced, you make dinner.

This is really part one of a two-part scene.

less than 1k words

CW: swearing

Dinner gets pushed back when John arrives unannounced and upset. He’s abrupt and defensive, biting off the ends of words when you ask him what brought him by. He’s evasive about poker – he went but decided not to stay.  

“Bloody hell, I can’t stop by to see you without an agenda now?” He’s huffy, as if his honour is being questioned. 

“You can stop by any time you want, hot stuff. Are you going to be staying for dinner?” You clarify, not willing to give him the fight he is clearly spoiling to have. 

Some part of him must recognize he’s turned up empty handed and unannounced at dinner time because he attempts to course correct despite the lingering grump. 

“If you’ll have me, love.” Annoyance and contrition fight for the upper hand in his tone.

“Of course, it’s your favourite tonight, world’s worst pasta.”

The dish is an inside joke between the two of you, your culinary skills tending towards the improvisational. 

That finally cracks his sullen face with a small smile, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it off the back of a kitchen chair. 

“Do you want me to chop?” He asks, inspecting your recent handiwork piled on a chopping board. He absentmindedly pushes his sleeves up his forearms as he moves. You are a menace with anything sharp, just as likely to hurt yourself as do any real kitchen work. The veggies look so bulky they might as well be steamed and served as a side dish as opposed to anything resembling a proper ingredient for a pasta sauce. You smile at his skeptical look and shake your head, directing him to the table instead. 

“No, think I’ve got them right where I want them. Go settle down, I’ve got a handle on this, Captain. It’ll be edible, trust me.” 

John’s mouth kicks up in a lopsided smile at your misplaced confidence and he folds himself onto a chair at the kitchen table to watch. You hand him a beer in a familiar routine, chatting aimlessly about work while he listens and reminds you to stir this or add that. The bad mood finally shakes free after his second beer and your third, conversation coming easier. Soon his guffaws of laughter are nearly drowning out the fire alarm. 

Somewhere along the line you had grabbed a random saucepan and filled it with water to boil the spaghetti. You hadn’t paid enough attention to the size of the pot and the short-sided saucepan dropped the spaghetti noodles within range of the propane stove’s flame. The pot was nearly boiling when the noodles ignited, startling you into a shriek and making John roar with laughter.

“Fuckin’ hell, I knew coming to see you was the right call. Never a dull moment, love.”

“I’m glad you came over too, this always goes way better with an audience.” You pat his bicep as he carries the torched pasta out to the garbage bin on the front stoop. You can’t help but wonder what happened at poker as you watch his broad back disappear down the hall. A sudden wash of sympathy for your grumpy man comes over you. You know he looks forward to those nights, even if he wouldn’t ever say as much outright. 

The pot was still steaming when he returned, the grim look back on his face.

“Have I mentioned that I hate this place?” He asked, stepping up to the sink to refill the pot. You know that look on his face, the tightness around his eyes and the set to his mouth. He’s trying to keep a leash on his temper.

“It may have come up casually, yes. Are you coming off the bench to assist, cap? I’m assuming you know a trick.” You tease him gently when he replaces the sauce-pan on the burner, trying to pull him back to a better mood.

“Your front door is basically Balsa wood, it’s gotta be a joke, innit?” He grumbles, taking a handful of pasta and standing it on end in the new pot of boiling water and holding it upright. As it softens the pressure of his hand bends it, and after a few moments of swishing it around he is able to fold it enough to get it all inside the pot to finish cooking. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” You breath, impressed.

“Gotta improvise sometimes, love.” He explains, picking up his beer to lean against the counter and watch it cook this time. 

The long line of his muscular body gets your attention and you bite your bottom lip, picking up your own beer and taking a drink you don’t go wandering across the kitchen to press yourself up against him like an alley cat. He catches on to your line of thought quickly, his observational skills not dusty in the least.

“You truly are trouble in the kitchen. Let’s not spoil a second batch of noodles darling.” The smile he’d been wearing earlier flutters at the corners of his mouth again. 

“Did you think you were going to rescue dinner and get sexually harassed when you came over tonight?”

John tilts his head back and laughs, mirth returning to his eyes. 

“I can only ever hope, love.” He says fondly, smirking as your eyes connect. 

The timer for the pasta goes off and John turns the burner off, taking the pot to the sink to drain it while you watch, finding his competence compelling for some reason. After he finishes with the pasta he heads in your direction, corralling you against the table to kiss you. When he murmurs something about dessert later in to your ear, you wonder if you can convince him to stay the night.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast

[yowyowyaoi]

*at the dinner table*

Hidan: *gagging as he tries to eat a chicken breast* Fucking hell, blondie; could this be anymore gross?!

Deidara: Hey, I worked hard on that, hm! I know you eat everything all bloody but you can’t do that with chicken!!

Hidan: Yeah but … this is so … like I know that you’re used to choking on dry meat but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are!

Kakuzu: Hidan, enough. Nobody complained when you made those tacos with so many spices they nearly blew out our assholes.

Itachi: Still haven’t recovered from that, by the way.

Konan: Guys. Please. You guys taking turns cooking so I don’t have to every night is such a big thing for me, please don’t ruin it by being nasty to each other. Okay?

Deidara: Sorry, Konan.

Hidan: Yeah; sorry, beautiful. Blondie, this shit ain’t that bad, okay? 

Kisame: Who’s turn is it to cook tomorrow night? Is it mine?

Konan: *looks at the chart* Actually it’s Tobi’s.

*everyone looks at Tobi*

Kakuzu: Tobi … you know how to cook?

Tobi: I sure do, Kakuzu-san! I went to the market and got everything I needed! SUGAR, cinnamon, pastry dough, sweet milk —-

Konan: Wow, you’re planning on making dessert, too? How nice!

Tobi: … dessert? That’s gonna be our dinner!

The others:

Hidan: That’s even worse than blondie’s! Are you trying to crash our fucking blood with sugar! I should —

Tobi, in Obito voice: You know what *I* should do? Shove everything right up your pale white ass! And you can use the icing for lube, you ungrateful dick!! Now shut the fuck up before you get my boot up there as well!!

Hidan:

Tobi, back in his own voice: Does anyone else have any complaints about dinner?

Everyone: *shakes their head*

Tobi: Good.

[thevoidstaredback]

I started a fire.....

[supercantaloupe]

vegetables

[tomoleary]

Joe De Mers (1910-1988) "There's no doubt about it," Jan said, her voice warm with admiration, "you're a useful man about the house" Making Dinner (1954) Source

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[franken-loser]

This had better come to a stop but Frankenstein where Marvin is Victor, Whizzer is Henry, Trina is Elizabeth, Jason is uhhh William, and Mendell is like,,,,Justine maybe???

[phillytranswoman]

Making dinner last night. Cheers 🍹

[eynsavalow]

Plotting Call for Yseult

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

I came home at lunch today so Mom could meet with Gus's teacher. He's earned all A's after bringing up his B in Language Arts -- Ms. Klatt chalked that up to there being only two graded assignments in the first half-quarter. Nothing to worry about. She said he's kind to everyone, friends with everyone, and he likes to help out the other kids who might be having trouble, which brought a tear to my eye. Mom and I are both so proud of him. Ms. Klatt didn't say it outright, but she suggested he'll likely test for the gifted & talented program soon. The only area he needs work on is not reading his book when he's supposed to be doing an assignment. I don't want to discount the importance of that, but also, if he's going to be ditching school work for something, reading a book is about the best something out there, in my opinion.

When I came home from the office, I found Magnus helping Mom make dinner. I was also proud of him.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 9.30.2024 - 5.31pm.

[humbug-demartino]

[underpantsandoverbites]

[my-names-kris]

amogus

the beans

[giffypudding]

Getting ready for turkey day

[all-things-fandomstuck]

Soup update

It is nearly ready!

[aintmyjewelry]

we need to bring back inviting people over for cake and coffee. my grandma used to do that all the time and I think it's a lost art

[phillytranswoman]

Making dinner last night. Cheers 🍹