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raainberry · 6 months ago

Text

compliments to the chef

Momo x gn!reader

synopsis - momo falls for her new chef’s flavor🤭 (she’s the sole heiress of the Hirai culinary empire and hiring you spices things up a lot more than she intended.)

wordcount - 14K (please don’t say damn when you see the price)

T/W - kinda chaebol!momo - chef!reader - mentions of food, knifes etc… - nothing violent tho - slowburn? but make it angsty? - light cussing - you lowkey hate each other but not really - enemies to lovers? - guest starring bc that’s fun - that’s all i can think of, tell me if i missed anything

Momo sent a polite smile to the man sitting across from her. The fourteenth in the past half hour.

She’s been keeping count, along with the minutes, the grains of rice left on her plate, and the amount of times he’s mentioned one of his accomplishments.

Thirty-three, seventy-eight, and six; in that order. Only two questions about her so far, one if you remove the one about her name.

She almost left right then and there, but the respect she had for her mother weighed her down on that chair. If she wasn’t going to take over the family empire, the least she could do was find a worthy successor.

A soft sigh escaped her as she pushed her food around. Being an only child was way more fun when all it meant was that she didn’t have to share it with anyone. Or get it stolen, according to the venting of her friends when younger.

She finished the few bites left, trying to drown out the sound of his voice by focusing on the flavours. She closes her eyes, appreciating their delicate yet bold dancing on the tip of her tongue.

Maybe it was the boredom clinging onto whatever could keep her mind entertained, but the taste reminded her of herself. A small smile spread across her lips, the first real one of the day.

The next one came when the man asked for the bill. Her lungs could finally grasp the air around her, her nose picking up on the different notes and aromas of the dishes around her.

She sent her compliments to the chef, adding to them a generous tip she had no idea who’s pockets it’d really land in. It’s the thought that counts.

Her senses were in heaven walking out, engraving her mind with a memory that will stick longer than the guy who’d just made her split the bill, unevenly that is.

“Let me take you home.” He said once out front. His hand held the door open to the leather seats of a luxurious car she was too familiar with.

“Oh, no it’s fine thank you.” She declined quickly. “I actually have a meeting scheduled right after this.”

“I can drop you off.”

Momo almost laughed. She found his use of the personal pronoun very funny. She almost forgot he would just be sitting near her some more while the chauffeur did the sexiest part. If the latter were to her taste, she’d have driven off with her.

“I’d rather not.” She declined. “Business confidentiality and whatnot.”

The lie was forced through an awkward smile that he found endearing enough not to question. Relief washed over her when he finally let go of her, climbing into the car, but not without asking her to keep in touch.

Another sigh, a heavy one, loaded with all those she’d held back until now as she watched the car drive away. The pressure was off, but only for a second as her thoughts soon spiraled.

No way she had to do this again… She reached in her purse, looking for the one thing that could get her out of here.

All this junk, where is it—

“You’re awful at lying.”

Her phone almost dropped to its death from the startle you gave her.

Momo had a few questions at the sight of you. Your presence and your eavesdropping were the first, but the white apron half folded around your waist and the cigarette in your hand answered most of them.

“What,” was all she managed to say though, and a smile pulled on your lips.

“I mean, I’m not fond of lies, but when you’re famous for turning your back on business, you should probably come up with a better excuse.”

“Who even are you?”

“Right, I guess that’s fair. I’m Y/n. You’re Momo, right? Hirai?”

“Y-Yeah.” Her eyes squinted, desperately trying to see what you were leading to.

Your name sounded as unfamiliar as you looked, but you seemed well informed. She didn’t like that.

“Nice to meet you,” You greeted simply, eyeing the contrast between her features and the neat clothes on her back, “So how bad was it? You look… Worn out.”

Her chuckle was distasteful, and she tried to suppress its bitterness at the reminder of her lost time. “Awful. The food caught my eye more than he could ever hope.”

You smiled, “He wasn’t bad looking.”

“But he was a bore.” She argued. “Borderline narcissistic too.”

“Deal breaker then?” You guessed, turning her laughter a little sweeter.

“Pretty much.” Her gaze found the ground in a nod before focusing back on you. “I do like it better when it’s a two way conversation.”

“Does that make me cute?”

She scoffed at the brazen question. “You wish.”

“I don’t.” You dropped your cigarette on the ground, stepping on it in a way she found more hot than revolting to her surprise. That cheeky smile of yours was most likely to blame. “Thank you for the compliments by the way. I’m glad you liked it.”

Your bow was quick, desultory out of rehearsed respectfulness. As much as you appreciated her compliments, you had better things to do in the kitchen that could get you some more.

You caught a glimpse of her jaw dropping on your way back in, and it was enough of a sight to revel in for a few days.

—

It took Momo a couple weeks to pick her jaw back up and swallow her pride. It seemed as though the latter was the only thing she inherited from her family, and she managed to set herself apart yet again.

Her parents would have never set foot in your restaurant again. Not that you had lacked respect or anything, but the fact that you managed to set her off balance… Something about it she didn’t particularly like.

Why was she back then?

You asked yourself that same question when you stormed out of the kitchen at her request. If it weren’t for your manager and his speech about image and reputation, you never would have allowed her to interrupt you and abandon your brigade mid-shift.

Hands on your hips, dragging your feet, you walked into the office she awaited you in and felt your voice die down on your tongue at the sight.

Beauty or surprise, either way it came down to her presence.

The way her hair fell down her back, delicate and blending in with the fabric of her perfectly tailored shirt. The sleek black attire formed a shadow, painting a hole cut against her silhouette and into the spring she admired in the sakura tree out the bay window.

“Hi.” She smiled, her voice a fitting melody to the sights now behind her. Enchanting, sure, but odd.

She wasn’t exactly known to be a warm one to strangers. More power to her, you could understand that. But why didn’t it apply to you?

If it weren’t for the stories associated with that voice suddenly popping into your mind, she’d have lured you in. Nothing too bad about them; only testaments of her success. Rumors about the danger surrounding her, setting her apart from her family. You didn’t care for the big industry names, but theirs always had you curious.

“You asked for me?” Your voice rang in the quiet space.

Momo didn’t seem to notice your apprehension, her smile ever so welcoming, “I did.”

It felt as though she owned the place for a second.

“Do you have some more compliments?” You wondered, eyes following her figure as she went to take a seat in the armchair across your manager’s desk.

“I do actually.” She turned the seat to face you as she mused, “That black cod was to die for.”

You nodded, thankful. “Glad you liked it.”

As much as you didn’t like the way her family capitalized on the food you took such care to value, you couldn’t deny their expertise. Even if not a lot to you, Momo’s compliment did mean something.

“But that’s not all.” Her voice pulled your eyes back on her.

You found her posture quite imposing, matching her tone, but her infamous shyness was something she never got around to master. Her gaze held yours but it lacked control.

It was hard to ignore how endearing the attempt looked to you. It just made you want to give her whatever she wanted. Reward her efforts.

“What is it?” You wondered, curious.

What could she possibly want from you? This restaurant wasn’t yours. The only thing you had control over was the kitchen.

“I want you to cook for me.” She said, and you didn’t leave room for a breath before responding, “Excuse me?”

“I meant I’d like to hire you.” She clarified, a smirk dancing on her lips at your transparent thoughts. You tried to make sense of her proposal, but she didn’t waste any time in providing details. “I’m sure you’re familiar—the annual Hirai banquet my mother holds for shareholders. I never cared for the specifics, but I want to do good by her. I haven’t been the best daughter lately so I thought I’d make it up to her by holding it this year.”

It all clicked at the mention of her mother. Of course she wouldn’t be back with her own motives.

The Hirai Culinary Group was an empire. A home to the most prestigious restaurants of the country. All housing different specialties, techniques and themes… Quite a whole lot to manage yet the quality remained flawless. Fifty years of irreproachable cuisine, you could only respect it. If only they didn’t care about business so much…

Those banquets were popular, talk of the town within the industry as it usually set the next trends and whatnot. Make no mistakes, you were tuned in as well. They did bring in some interesting elements, but you hated the way they set it all up. A disguised year-end performance meeting. White collars expecting numbers and being served them on gold plates, horizons and growth perspectives hidden in desserts.

“So she’s actually the one that asked for me.” You smirked, unexpecting of the way she’d wipe it off just a second later.

“No.” She said simply, a serene smile gracing her lips. “Why would she know about you?”

You scoffed. Good point. You could recognize that despite the blow to your ego.

“Fair enough.” You nodded. “But why should I help you?”

“Help me?” She repeated, a hint of offense creeping into her whole being. “I’m offering you to work with me.”

Perhaps she wasn’t that much of an ugly duckling among the Hirai’s.

“My question still stands. Why should I?”

A silence followed your words, hanging low over your heads and expecting the next ones to come out of her. Hopefully they’d be good enough.

Momo’s gaze suddenly drifted from yours, finding interest in her surroundings. A few details she’d noticed earlier, various frames highlighting the establishment’s foundations. She could count three of them : its history, the owner and visibly the most important—you.

“Are you happy here?” She finally spoke, tearing her eyes away from your latest reward.

“I am.”

“I’m sure you are,” she remarked, tone striking a nerve. “Highest rank, valued both within and outside—you’re basically ruling the place…”

“What’s your point?” You asked, growing impatient.

“You’ve hit the ceiling, Y/n. It’s time for a new challenge, don’t you think?”

Silence enveloped you again as you found yourself contemplating her proposition.

Momo took the sight as a sign of her job being done here, and you watched as she left her business card on the desk before gracefully excusing herself; leaving you to deal with your internal struggle.

—

In the days that followed, her offer continued to linger in your thoughts, and with each passing day, the idea of a new challenge began to take root in your mind.

It spread enough to takeover a good portion of it, sending it all elsewhere. Far enough for your closest friend here and sous-chef to notice.

“What’s up with you, you’ve been all over the place lately.” Jeongyeon asked after you nearly knocked an nth plate to the floor.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You met her gaze and it was enough to backtrack on your words “Okay, fine there is something, but… I don’t know it’s pointless.”

The empty pot you were carrying resonated as you put it back into its designated place, partially covering Jeongyeon’s words. “Does it have to do with that Hirai girl?”

“How do you know?”

“It’s the only thing out of the ordinary enough to throw you off your game.” She chuckled, drying her hands on her apron.

Weird way to tell you to live a little more, but okay.

“So what did she say to you?” She sighed, leaning her back against the sink. “What even happened in the office, you never told us.”

“Well…” You trailed off, gettng that business card out of your back pocket. You handed it to her, and it took her a second to notice what it was.

“What are you waiting for?” She scoffed, causing your eyebrows to furrow together.

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever she proposed just accept it, Y/n”

You spotted a hint of annoyance in her voice, but you had trouble seeing if it was about you or Momo. She sure was scrubbing that counter pretty hard.

“Why?” You asked, watching as she practically polished that stainless steel by hand. Something bothered you, and it wasn’t her cleaning technique. “Are you not even gonna fight for me?”

Jeongyeon paused to look at you, catching the slight pout on your lips. Her own twisted along her features in disgust, teasing you, and you let out your first laugh of the day.

“I should be the one asking you that.” She pointed out. “The fact that you haven’t thrown that card as soon as she left tells me enough.”

“I was just thinking about it…” You admitted, only proving her point.

Jeongyeon chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re past the point of even considering it, I mean… You’ve been walking around with that business card glued to your ass for the past week, yet you haven’t told me a thing about it.”

“You think you know me so well.” You grimaced. It was playful, but part of you wanted to provoke her. You didn’t blame her for that small jab at you, but it did hurt to think she didn’t put turning your back on this place past you.

She did know you so well, though. That’s why she continued to argue her point.

“What is there to think about, y/n? The heiress of the most acclaimed and prestigious restaurant chain of the country is asking for you. No sane person would say no, never mind a chef!”

The sigh that pushed past your lips came as far back as your lungs.

“Would you say yes?” You hesitated after a while, but her answer was much faster. “With no remorse.”

“I mean, have you seen her?” She added and you laughed.

“Fine. I guess I’ll call her…” You picked up the card from the counter and stared at her name.

Well… It’s not like she had asked you to quit your job…

—

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

“What?!”

Momo pulled the phone away from her ear at the sheer volume of your voice through the speaker. How unprofessional. Her eyes rolled soon after, once she registered what your reaction held and meant for her plans.

“Y/n, this isn’t some side hustle for your experience.” she sighed, “I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. If this all goes well, you could become our youngest chef in history.”

A point was made. As much as you were cautious of her voice, it seemed you couldn’t do much about the way it managed to get to you. The words she used were ambitious, they spoke to you.

But she failed to measure just how ambitious you were.

“Why can’t I do both?” You finally asked, prompting a string of arguments being thrown to one another. A futile game of ping-pong you were determined to win, only irritating the woman at the other end of the line.

All this whining, it was like dealing with a child, and truthfully you felt like one. Asking for the best of both worlds seemed completely reasonable to you, so why wouldn’t she give it to you.

“Listen, you can’t give your all to something if your attention is split in two.” She said, losing the last bit of patience she managed to keep today. “You can’t expect to grow by splitting yourself in half, and if you think otherwise, then consider my proposal void.”

A small silence fell over the line. She made sense. She was right. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to accept it?

“If you actually stepped foot in a kitchen once in your life you’d know two isn’t even the minimum.” You scoffed.

Whatever you wanted to mean by that… even you didn’t know, but apparently it was worth thinking over as you heard Momo sigh.

The woman closed her eyes to think.

Why couldn’t you just say yes like everyone else she approached. Maybe she should have made you say it back in the office, use that pathetic confidence of yours against you.

Oh how easy you were to read and see through. Pushing buttons was so much easier when people stood in front of her.

That’s why she hated phone calls. How could she know what to say—oh.

The light bulb went off over her head.

Right… That pathetic confidence of yours.

“I’ll step in if you do.”

—

It shouldn’t have been so easy.

All it took was a half-genuine smile, and a simple promise to make things different this year with a focus on the culinary side of things. Sure, she had to admit to scouting the area in search of the most skilled and promising, which eventually lead her to your restaurant, and then… you. But it was all ego strokes. Child’s play.

Part of her was disappointed. She’d hoped for a little more resistance, a challenge promised by your initial tone and attitude towards her.

“Damn it!”

She should be more careful about what she wishes for… Momo sighed, expecting your face to peek in by the doorframe of the manager’s office, and it did just seconds later.

“Momo, it’s not working.”

“What isn’t?” She said, confused. Machinery’s top-notch, brigade is her best, there was no way anything would stop working out of nowhere.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, just come and see.”

Momo stared at you, noticing a smile fighting to make its way onto your lips. She was apprehensive but followed you anyway.

You’d been working on a technical plate : a type of hybrid dish-dessert. An ambitious idea you’d prompted to Momo during one of the early meetings to work the menu out.

Only she had to make it an order. A boring one and near impossible to pull off. She wouldn’t listen, so you decided to show her.

As you led her to the kitchen, you couldn't help but start venting away about everything that went down since the last time she'd stepped foot in there, which was a day or two ago.

"So, first, the soufflé collapsed twice because someone—I won't name names, but it rhymes with 'intern’—forgot to preheat the oven."

Momo sighed internally. Why were you so fixated on every little mistake? Who cares about interns and their mistakes, that’s what they’re here for. She could excuse a non-preheated oven, but forgetting her birthday? Yeah, that Boo Seungkwan is definitely off the list. He had a good run, only regret was he was good with her dogs. And nice maybe.

"Then, the new mixer decided it wanted to be a blender, and let's not even talk about the chocolate ganache incident."

She nodded absently, her mind drifting to the text she received earlier from another potential suitor. The daughter of her family ‘s right hand man, Jihyo if she remembered correctly? The Park’s had a rocky history though, she took note to raise her guard on that one before your voice pulled her back.

"And of course, the sugar sculpture? Total disaster."

Momo glanced at you, wondering if you realized how whiny you sounded. She had bigger fish to fry than a failed sugar sculpture, like figuring out if she even wanted to leave this family business. If it meant she had to deal with one more daddy’s pocket leech…

"On the bright side, we finally perfected the citrus glaze for the salmon, and the guests couldn't get enough of the hors d'oeuvres last night, so I guess the test was a success.."

When you finally stopped talking and walking, she found herself face to face with an… interesting looking thing on a plate.

“What is that?” She said, dumbfounded.

“Oh, that’s the lemon pie thing you asked for.” You answered nonchalantly. “I told you it wouldn’t work.”

“Are you serious?” Her stance and tone changed, cold and threatening like you had the joy of experiencing earlier this month. Didn’t shake you anymore though. The dumb smile on your face was still there, dangerously creeping into a smirk. She couldn’t wipe it for some reason.

“Yeah, that sucks. I guess I lost three hours of my life.” You shrugged, eyes lingering on the edible failure staining the porcelain. “Doesn’t taste bad, though.” You handed her a piece with a spoon you’d clearly already used, and Momo’s stare hardened.

“Fix this.”

Obviously, you would. But you couldn’t let it happen without messing with her first. So you stared right back into her eyes, holding her gaze just long enough to make her doubt and fear the opposite. The tension hung thick in the air, reaching a new high, until she finally broke away and walked off, her frustration evident in every step.

You watched her walk, the smirk now very apparent and mocking her back.

“I’ll do just that, you don’t have to worry.” You cupped your hands around your lips to make sure she heard it, distracting a few chefs around you.

You were oblivious to the looks they threw your way, your gaze was focused on Momo’s retreating figure.

"I'll leave you some on your desk, make sure to try it!” That smirk was evident on your lips, and she could hear it in your voice, feel it getting under her skin.

You were a challenge alright. A damn good one.

—

Momo walked back into the building only days later. You frowned at the sight of her, shoulders obviously tense paired with familiar sour features. The exposed skin told you a lot about her potential whereabouts these past few days. Added to the rumors going around, it didn’t leave that much of a mystery…

“Oh, we’re cooked.” Ryujin, the intern, mumbled under her breath, catching yours and a chef’s attention.

“Yeah, we should have seen it coming.” The chef, Mingyu, sighed, dropping a heavy pan on top of the counter beside you.

“Why, what happened?” You asked, easing yourself into their conversation.

Ryujin’s eyes widened, startled by the interruption. “I uh,” she stammered before Mingyu spoke up.

“Word on the street is, her father set her up with Park's daughter.” He chuckled to himself, making you curious.

“Park’s daughter… The Park branch daughter?” You asked, the name ringing more and more familiar. “You mean Jihyo? Isn’t she managing the H-Lounge?”

H-Lounge was a private, high end rooftop lounge managed by Mr.Park, Mr.Hirai’s right hand man. Big bar, little food, and big walls; a white collar’s favorite and the Hirai’s most profitable branch. From what you knew, Jihyo’s been pretty much running things for years now, her father only still there because of Momo’s.

“Yeah, but she’s on her way to the throne basically. Her dad’s been pushing for her to take the reins for a while now. Old man’s tired.” Mingyu commented, pulling a laugh out of Ryujin.

You squinted, watching as Momo disappeared around the corner to her office.

“Yeah. But didn’t they try to go solo with the Lounge once?” Ryujin asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she recalled rumors from a year ago. “Sounds kinda fishy.”

“And shady.” Mingyu nodded. “Seems to me like Boss Hirai’s desperate to make her stay.”

“Which one?”

You were confused out of your mind, and Mingyu could tell. He was amused when you met his eyes, begging for some clarity.

“Both,” he said. “Power play. Or two birds one stone type of deal. A Park-Hirai marriage would be beyond convenient for him—Jihyo’s a hot head, she could never hold this whole thing together without Momo stepping in at one point, he knows that. It’s the only way he gets to keep both of his most precious assets.”

You shook your head. There was no way. The idea didn’t even match with the Momo you knew. "I don't see it. Momo's way too stubborn and prideful to let something like this happen to her. She's not the type to be manipulated like that."

"You think?" Ryujin asked, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you see how she handles things... Father or not, she won't just bend to someone else's will.”

Mingyu shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes glued on Momo’s figure passing by. "I think she already is..."

You all watched as she disappeared around the corner to her office, and you noticed her shoulders slump for the briefest of moments

It was a slight, almost imperceptible shift, but it struck you deeply for some reason. For the first time, you saw a crack in that impossibly unyielding façade.

A mix of concern and confusion washed over you. Despite the fierce exterior she projected on that comeback walk, there was clearly more weighing on her than she let on. Could Mingyu be right? Was Momo already being pulled back into the company's grasp despite that stubborn pride of hers?

You felt a rush of protectiveness overcome you, but quickly pushed it aside. What a useless, unbased feeling. Momo was fine. She wouldn't let herself be manipulated so easily… Right?

You pondered on the question for a while, but came up with the same answer every time.

She’ll be fine.

You sighed as the day wound down, leaning against a counter. Your gaze wandered to the door to Momo’s office, finding it closed as always. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen nor heard it open since earlier that afternoon…

Was she still there?

Curiosity and concern got the better of you, and you decided to take the opportunity to show her the new and improved lemon pie she’d asked you to fix.

You made your way to her office, the building now eerily quiet. You didn’t wait for an answer before walking in. It was surprisingly dark, only lit by a small hanging light attached to the wall above the desk. This place was such a broom closet… You almost felt sorry for her then remembered what she’d told you.

"Technically this is still the kitchen, this wall is literal plastic."

You mentally scoffed at the memory. You couldn't believe the pettiness of that woman.

"What is that?" Momo asked, her eyes lifting from the paper for the first time in what felt like days.

Whatever was in that plate definitely looked better than the last thing you’d presented her. It held a certain finesse she wasn’t indifferent to.

"It's the pie you asked for," you said, eyes twinkling in pride. “Well, a deconstructed version of it.”

“It’s not what I asked for,” she trailed off, observing the fine details. Her eyes traced the delicate swirls of meringue and the vibrant yellow of the lemon gel. It wasn't what she had originally envisioned, but there was a beauty to it she couldn't deny. "But it's pretty."

You smiled, taking a seat on a corner of her desk as you pulled out a spoon as an offering. A clean one this time.

She was hesitant. Messing the dish up would feel like a crime, but so was leaving food unattended. So she finally dug in, picking up a bit of everything before humming at the taste of it all.

“Tastes the same as the failure, just… so much better.”

Your face lit up at the mention of that failed attempt a few days earlier. You’d kept your word and left it at her desk, hoping she’d have a taste despite the failure. It still had potential, and you wanted her to know.

“You had some?” Your eyes sparkled, and it made you look so much sweeter than you’d been lately. Momo felt herself falter for a second, slipping you a gentle smile before catching herself.

She cleared her throat, lowering the spoon down, the latter clattering on the porcelain as she went for another bite.

“I did.” She nodded. “You were right by the way. It wasn’t bad at all, just… unfortunate looking.”

You were only surprised she was admitting it; and this easily no less.

“So what do we do now? Do we listen to me more, or…?”

Momo sighed, and a victorious smile made its way to your lips before she even uttered the words. “Fine. You can freestyle a bit.” You cheered, and it took a lot for her not to mirror your happiness. “Don’t get too excited. You better follow the menu.”

“Or then what?”

She only glared at you, and the switch in her gaze was enough to turn you down. Or on. [What?]

“I’m kidding. Glad to be working with you.” You said, flashing her a grin that she could only see as cocky.

Momo's eyes rolled in annoyance, getting up from her seat and picking up the blazer on the back of it. As she gathered her stuff, you understood she was going home for the day. It was getting late, the restaurant had closed a couple hours ago and all the staff was gone too. You should get going too, but you feel a sudden pang of reluctance…

“You're going already?" You blurt out, unable to suppress the urge to keep her here just a little while longer.

Momo raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor. "You just shook my hand," she pointed out.

"Well, yes, but..." you trail off, grasping at your brain for any excuse to keep her here a moment longer. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t understand either, but there was something about her presence that you find strangely comforting in the moment.

Maybe it was the lack of noise and chaos in the background, behind the office door she kept closed; only for you to burst it open anytime you had a complaint or an idea.

The silence, the dim lighting, their absence or her presence… Or the fact that she was actually pleased with your work for once. Explicitly at least. Most likely a gas leak you didn’t know about that messed with your thoughts—you couldn’t tell. But it was something.

There was something keeping you glued to that desk.

She was about to leave again, but this time you reached out and grabbed her hand, your fingers closing around hers in a firm grip. Both of you froze, the air suddenly charged with… again, something as you held her gaze.

"You said you'd be stepping in," you blurted out once more, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You weren’t sure what possessed you to say it, but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching as her mind raced to make sense of your words.

When she’d told you she’d step in, she didn’t think you’d take it seriously. That was her first mistake maybe, but to her, stepping in meant overseeing the preparations, making decisions about the menu, and handling the logistical details of the banquet. She never intended to actually cook alongside you, and quite frankly, she didn’t know how you could possibly think she would.

Were you stupid or purposefully getting on her nerves like you so often seemed to enjoy? Didn't you realize she had other responsibilities, obligations she had to take care of over cooking?

This was literally why she’d sought you out.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"You haven't helped once in the kitchen since we started, and it's basically been a month," You retorted, your tone edged with frustration. "For someone who prides herself on integrity, you sure are amazing at keeping your word."

Your words were like a slap to the face, and Momo felt a surge of defensiveness rise within her. Your claims sure were bold for someone who did nothing but defy her words ever since the beginning.

But beneath the anger, there's a stain of guilt, a nagging feeling that maybe - just maybe - you might have a point. From a certain angle, you could say she did kind of manipulate you into working for her by throwing that phrase; or let’s call it as it was : an empty promise.

Momo sighed as she struggled to find the right words to get herself out of this. Your gaze was merciless on her, probing and insistent as you waited for an explanation. Or just admittance.

"I meant overseeing things, making decisions about the menu, handling the logistics, the usual," she finally explained, her frustration evident in her tone. "I still have a million other things to take care of for that banquet, you know. It's not like I can just drop everything and spend all day cooking with you."

She paused, searching your face for any sign of understanding or sympathy, but all she found was a stubborn determination. A refusal to back down from your position. And despite herself, she felt a small spark of admiration flickered to life within her.

"Look," she continued, her voice softening slightly. "I appreciate your dedication, I really do. But you have to understand that I can't just drop everything to cater to your whims. I have a responsibility to my family, to our guests, to ensure that everything goes smoothly. And if that means I have to delegate certain tasks to you, then so be it."

Her words were only met with silence. She waited for your response, bracing herself for another confrontation. But to her surprise, you nodded, a hint of understanding in your eyes.

The relief washing over her heart at the sight startled her. Why did she want to see it? Why did she want you to understand anyway?

"Alright," you said, your voice calm and measured. "I get it. I just... I guess I was hoping for more, you know? More than just orders and instructions. I wanted to be a part of something. Contribute in a meaningful way."

“You are a part of something, Y/n,” she reassured, and the hand she dropped on your shoulder caught you off guard. Her gaze had softened, but it only made you panic.

Here comes the guilt tripping, you mentally sighed, bracing for impact.

Before you could even muster an attempt to deflect the incoming emotional onslaught, she continued, her words flowing with as much determination as you were used to. "You know, this banquet isn’t just another project for me. It may not seem like it, but I care about it a lot. I take it as a farewell, a thank you to my family and the opportunities they’ve gifted me."

You opened your mouth to intervene, to offer some semblance of resistance, but she plowed on, crushing any attempts to cut in. "And not only are you a part of it, you’re leading it, Y/n. I trust you."

The words hit like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. One of the rare times in your life. Here you were, caught in the midst of a heartfelt moment, unable to muster even a hint of humor to lighten the mood. With a silent sigh, you resigned yourself to the inevitable, silently acknowledging her words.

All you could do was drop your gaze, nodding. You almost felt shameful for trying to ignore her possibly having feelings.

“Thank you for trusting me.” You muttered, fiddling with your fingers before looking back at her. “I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Food wise at least.”

Momo nodded in acknowledgment, finally removing her hand from your shoulder. Her feet stuttered before turning away. She’d made it to the door pretty quickly, but a sudden thought halted her tracks.

The sudden stop in the sound of her expensive heels caught your attention, and you looked up at her. Your gaze and eyebrows silently inquired her, and she smiled sheepishly. Another display of vulnerability that made your heart jump.

“Can I bring that home?”

Momo nodded towards the desk, referring to the unfinished dessert you’d brought her. She wanted to take it to her mother. Give her a preview of what was to come in a couple weeks.

The request made you smile. A little happy if you dared to say so. You reached for the plate to hand it to her, only to take it with you as you finally got up from that desk. “Wait, let me get you a takeout box.”

“We have takeout boxes?” She said, dumbfounded. You only stared at her, speechless but not surprised. You could only shake your head, before leading the way to the kitchen.

“I was just kidding by the way, I know we have them.”

She didn’t. Something you proved when you made her search for them. You let her walk around and act as though she had any idea where anything was in that kitchen before she gave up and surrendered to your amused, almost mocking gaze.

You added a few more of the day’s tests and leftovers into the box before packing it all up before sending her home with a smile.

She was nice to be around when you weren’t trying to step on each other’s toes.

—

The dining room of the Hirai residence was bathed in soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over an overly elegant table set for two. The head of the table felt empty with her father’s absence, a recurring one lately as he tended to matters deemed important for the company. Momo usually sat on his right, like she did tonight. Her mother, Mrs. Hirai, took her seat right across. Despite the picturesque scene, a palpable tension lingered in the air. Another recurrence Momo dreaded every day for months now.

Momo longed for the laughter that used to bring her family together around this table. The same one she announced her intent on renouncing to the heiress title. The same seat she’d left holding back tears at the words her father had thrown at her over a year ago.

Mr. Hirai never meant any of them, she knew that. He’d told her that, apologized soon after and long ago. But the thought, the scene, the sound… It’ll always tug at her heart, and dig the tears from deep within.

Momo swallowed hard at the sudden flashback, suppressing the pain. She managed to do that quite well; better as time passed.

The only problem was how she still couldn’t say a word at this table.

Conversation flowed in fits and starts as both women picked at their plate. Mrs. Hirai seemed determined to bridge the gap growing between them, her attempts at small talk falling flat against Momo's stony silence.

Then came a time where she was unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. The older woman cleared her throat and fixed her daughter with a searching gaze. "Momo, dear, I must say, this is all absolutely divine. You must have put a lot of thought into it."

Momo glanced up, her eyes meeting her mother's briefly before returning to her plate. "Actually, it’s Y/n who’s behind it all," she admitted, her tone guarded.

Mrs. Hirai's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Y/n? The new chef at your restaurant?"

Momo nodded, her mind already bracing for the inevitable conversation about her future. “A real talent for sure. Lots of potential. The whole experimenting thing is something we needed.”

Concern etched Mrs. Hirai's features before she composed herself, her expression becoming more serious. "Momo, don’t you want to reconsider at least once?”

Momo's shoulders tensed, steeling herself for the argument she knew was about to unfold. "Mom, we've been over this. I've made up my mind."

Mrs. Hirai regarded her daughter with a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "Think about what you’ll be leaving behind, it makes no sense! This company is your birthright, it’s your legacy, you have to uphold it."

Momo sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mom, but I just don't want it. You’re asking me to be the head of it all as if I haven’t just been taking orders and following plans my whole life. I’m telling you I can’t bear all that, I don’t…"

Tears pricked at Momo’s eyes, “I don’t want to fail.”

"I understand, dear.” Mrs. Hirai's expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you have a responsibility to the family, to your father's legacy."

"I'm trying, Mom! Why do you think I go on all these dates for?" Momo's frustration boiled over, her voice rising slightly.

Mrs. Hirai recoiled slightly at the sudden outburst, her expression pained. "Well, it is taking a while," she murmured, "Maybe you should reconsider your approach."

Momo's jaw clenched, her frustration only mounting. "It's not my fault they're all brainless," she muttered, stabbing at the poor short ribs you’d braised to perfection. "Half of them are grossly aroused by your pockets. If you're fine with that, then tell me, and I'll gladly shorten the process."

Mrs. Hirai sighed, a mix between sorrow and anger. "Momo, we just want what's best for you. The company is important, yes, but so is your happiness."

As much as the company mattered to her parents, Momo’s happiness came above all. They’d worked so hard to provide for her, to ensure she never lacked anything. Especially love. Theirs had birthed this wonderful girl, whom they nurtured with, only wishing for her to find her own.

Seeing their daughter ready to sacrifice such a value broke their hearts more than her leaving the company.

"I know, Mom. I just wish..." Momo's shoulders sagged, her anger dissipating as she met her mother's gaze.

Mrs. Hirai saw the opportunity to mention what's been lingering on her mind. "I noticed your father has been setting you up with Jihyo. She's a capable woman, and the Park family is influential. It could be a good match for both of you, professionally and personally."

Momo scoffed, tearing through the last of her cutlet. "Jihyo’s basically the daughter of our closest enemy. She’s a wild card, Mom.”

Mrs. Hirai blinked, taken aback by Momo's bluntness. It was a true definition, but such frank acknowledgment of their family's associates was rarely spoken aloud. It felt like breaking a taboo.

“Momo—”

“Listen, she's a nice enough person, but she's not what I need nor want. I know Dad thinks that pushing me towards her will make me stay in the company and keep things stable. Nice try, but we’re not six, and it's not fair to either of us."

Mrs. Hirai's face softened, "Momo, he just wants to make you jealous,” she said, a light chuckle leaving her lips.

“What?”

“You’re giving your father too much credit, as always.” She shook her head, clearly amused. “Remember when you actually were six and didn’t want to go to bed? The way he went to grab the dog and act all cuddly with it, instead of you? He’s doing the same with Jihyo. Grabbing the closest thing to replace you, hoping you’ll come tear it up and claim your place again.”

Momo's eyes widened, processing her mother's words. She was over here claiming she was so old and mature now, but he was doing the same thing as when she was young. Getting a hold of the closest, emotionally threatening enough thing around to get her to listen to him.

"So... he's not serious about Jihyo?"

Mrs. Hirai sighed. "He's serious about wanting you to stay. He thinks seeing Jihyo in your place will make you reconsider."

Momo shook her head, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. "I don't want to be manipulated like this. I want my decisions to be mine, not because Dad is playing games."

Her mother reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on her daughter's. "I understand, dear. But sometimes, those who love us most will do anything to keep us close."

Momo's lip trembled. "I don’t care, it's not fair, Mom. How can you be okay with this?"

Hearing her mother back her father’s insane behavior was heartbreaking. Disappointing. Momo's chest tightened, a nauseating mix of frustration and betrayal surging within her as she caught her mother’s eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm not saying I agree with his methods, Momo. But I know he's scared. Scared of losing you."

Momo looked down, her tears finally spilling over. "I just want to live my own life, make my own choices. Why can't he understand that?"

Her mother sighed, squeezing her hand gently. "Because he loves you, and he's afraid. Afraid that without the company, without us, you'll be lost. He doesn't realize how strong you've become."

Momo shook her head, frustration and sadness mingling in her heart. "I wish he could see that."

Mrs. Hirai nodded, her voice gentle. "Show him, Momo. The banquet is yours. Let him see what you can achieve on your own terms. Prove to him that you're capable of making your own choices and succeeding."

Momo took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. "You really think that will make a difference?"

Mrs. Hirai offered her a soft smile. "I do. Just be patient.”

Momo nodded, though the weight of her father's manipulations still pressed heavily on her heart. As she focused back on the food on her plate, her thoughts wandered back to you, and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.

That glimmer of hope, it burned softly within her heart. Still too weak for her to feel anything other than relief at the thought of you.

—

“Can you at least pretend to be useful?” You snapped, slamming an oven door shut. “I need everyone on deck, and you’re just standing there complaining!”

The kitchen was bustling, the whole brigade rushing around to perfect their dishes as the deadline for the banquet loomed closer. Momo had scheduled a tasting tonight, placing you at the heart of the chaos. You tried to maintain control and ensure everything was perfect, but it was hard doing so when someone seemed determined to get in your way.

Momo's behavior had shifted over the past two weeks. She'd started paying more attention, trying to be more involved. It wasn't purely altruistic—she saw a silver lining in your presence. One that could solve all her problems. You challenged her in ways she hadn't experienced since her rookie days, igniting a new source of motivation. For once, she felt driven, compelled to prove herself.

So she decided to make you feel at ease—for her own gain, yes, but you won something in the deal, didn't you?

After that night in the office, she made it a point to be around more, offering assistance, and listening to you more.

It was promising.

But she had to ruin that too.

Today, she decided to supervise the brigade as you prepared for tonight's tasting. Her presence was only getting in the way of everyone, especially you. You tried to keep your focus, but Momo's constant hovering and her split attention were grating on your nerves.

As she stood in the kitchen, her phone buzzed constantly with texts from Jihyo. She tried to juggle the mounting pressure from her father, the complications with Jihyo, and her responsibilities; but it was obviously getting too much on one plate.

You glanced at Momo, noticing the tension in her posture, the way she bit her lip as she read her messages. The way she moved, the way her eyes sparked with intensity—it all captivated you for a second, distracting you in ways you didn't need at the moment.

Momo’s irritation mirrored yours. She snapped her head up from her phone, eyes blazing. "I would if you gave me anything remotely interesting to do. I won't just fetch things for you like some errand boy."

You scoffed, crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way her anger only seemed to add to her intensity. “Seriously? Picking and choosing at a time like this? If you were just going to screw me over you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place!”

Momo only chuckled, “Really? Because I could have sworn you’d begged for me to be here.”

“Right.” You nodded. “When I did that I didn’t think you’d take it as an invite to smear yourself all over anything I do again. We agreed you’d let me handle the kitchen, why are you so hellbent on keeping tabs, just let me do my job!”

“This whole thing was my idea.” Momo shot back, stepping closer. “You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. That name you’re so proud of means nothing without my backing.”

“You’re not doing anything but sabotaging yourself.” Your voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. “I’m gonna need you to take your eyes off your own ass and look around you. Who do you recognize?”

Momo stayed silent, her mind racing. She glanced around, seeing the faces and eyes focused on her—some confused, some irritated. She realized she couldn’t put a single name to any of them. Her heart sank as the reality of her detachment hit her. The bustling kitchen, the brigade working tirelessly, and she couldn’t even acknowledge their efforts properly.

She felt a knot of frustration and embarrassment tightening in her chest.

You chuckled, “See what happens when you’re too busy playing corporate princess? Just let me f****** handle it.”

Her anger flared again, some kind of defense against the sting of that realization. “You think you’re so indispensable, don’t you?” she hissed. “That your presence is the only thing holding this together? Get over yourself, Y/n.”

“Sure I will. Please, lead the way like you so beautifully know how!” You gestured, hands as sarcastic as your tone.

The tension was palpable, your breaths mingling as you stood face to face, neither willing to back down. For a moment, it seemed like the argument might escalate further, but then Momo broke eye contact, her gaze shifting to her surroundings.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” she spat, voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You think you’ve done such a great job running this s***show, huh?”

When she looked back at you, her eyes met yours with nothing but anger as something else she couldn’t quite place tried to ease itself in. She hated the way you managed to make her feel—vulnerable, exposed.

“You better prove it tonight or I’ll make sure you’ll regret ever stepping into this kitchen.”

Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing amidst the chaos, that short and fragile truce between you two shattered yet again.

Tasting sure was going to be interesting…

—

That same night, the dining room was elegantly arranged, a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen earlier in the day. The table was set with fine china and crystal glasses, casting delicate reflections under the soft, ambient lighting. Momo sat between her parents, a tight smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. Around the table were key senior staff members, trusted friends, and a few family members, all eager to sample the menu.

You, along with your brigade, moved seamlessly between the kitchen and the dining room. You made sure to put your hard earned skills to use, presenting each course with a practiced grace, detailing the inspiration and techniques behind every dish. Despite the tension in the air linking you to Momo, your professionalism never faltered, though your eyes rarely left the plates you were serving.

Each course was met with nods of approval, murmurs of appreciation, and the occasional question, which you answered with an admirable precision. Momo, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on her plate. Her parents exchanged glances, concern etching their features.

When dessert was finally brought out, a hush fell over the table. You presented the dish—the deconstructed lemon meringue pie—explaining the delicate balance of flavors and textures. The room filled with the scent of citrus and caramelized sugar.

"Momo," Mrs. Hirai's voice cut through the murmurs, "you haven't said much tonight. What do you think?"

Momo looked up, her eyes meeting her mother's before shifting uncomfortably to the food in front of her. She felt the weight of everyone's gaze, including yours as you had paused in your explanation to listen.

"It's... it's very well done," she finally said, her voice painfully devoid of any enthusiasm. "The team has done an excellent job."

Her father frowned, leaning forward. "You can do better than that. Your opinion matters here. Speak up."

Momo's jaw tightened. She spent the entire evening avoiding your gaze, the argument from earlier still fresh and raw. Both of you were acting like children after a petty feud over a toy, going out of your way to avoid acknowledging each other.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "The dessert is innovative and beautifully executed. It’s exactly what I envisioned for the banquet."

Your eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and annoyance, recognizing the lie she’d just pushed through her teeth. She hadn’t envisioned anything—you’d fought tooth and nail over every detail up until hours ago.

"Thank you, Momo," Your voice strained in an attempt to stay polite. "I'm glad it meets your expectations."

The air grew thicker with obviously unspoken words. Momo’s parents exchanged another glance, sensing the underlying tension.

Mr. Hirai cleared his throat. "It’s important for us to be honest during these tastings. If there’s anything that needs to be improved, now is the time to speak up."

Momo felt her irritation grow. "I said it's fine, Father."

"Momo, we're just trying to help.” Her mother interjected gently, “If there’s anything you're not happy with, you need to communicate that."

That’s when you decided to step in, your tone sharp. "I think we all understand the importance of feedback. I have to say Momo's input has been invaluable—despite her current silence."

Momo's eyes flashed with anger. "Invaluable? Really? Seems to me like my input has been more of an inconvenience to you."

Your jaw clenched. "I never said that. But if you actually participated instead of hovering, it might be more constructive."

"Participated?” She shot back. “You mean following your every whim? I have better things to do than micromanage your kitchen."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. You caught Momo's parents looking between you and their daughter, realizing just how deep the rift had reached.

Mrs. Hirai spoke up first to try and defuse the situation. "Let’s not forget why we're here. The food is excellent, and we’re all looking forward to the banquet. Let’s focus on that."

Momo took a deep breath, faking a smile. "Yes, Mother. You're right. The food is great. Let's enjoy it."

But the damage was done. The altercation had cast a shadow over the evening and lingered in the air, unresolved and simmering just below the surface.

—

The kitchen was finally empty, the last of the staff having been dismissed for the night. You leaned against the counter, the cool steel pressing into your back as you took a moment to breathe. The day had been long and grueling, but at least the tasting was a success, earning yourself and your brigade a few days of rest before the banquet.

You should feel relieved, at least a little bit, you knew that. Yet you couldn’t break free from the weight of the air around you, mounted with tension from yours and Momo’s altercation.

It was suffocating. The hold she had on you, you could say you’d allowed it if only you could put a stop to it. If you at least wanted to make it stop…

The sound of the door to the kitchen creaking open halted your thoughts and Momo stepped inside. You could tell by the heels clicking softly on the tiled floor, and the way you instantly straightened yourself.

You watched her approach with guarded eyes, noticing her arms crossed over her chest. You mirrored her posture when she came close enough, crossing your own, guarding yourself up.

Momo noticed, eyes flickering to the tattoos peeking from beneath your rolled-up sleeves. She hadn’t seen those a lot, only finding out you had them when she started hanging around the kitchen more. Might have been a reason for her to do so, asking you to go and reach for utensils high-up just to peek.

She shook the thoughts away, finding your eyes and focusing on them. “Hey,” she began, her voice softer than you were used to. “Good job.”

The words almost made you choke. You swallowed hard, mouth drying up at the bitterness suddenly filling your heart. Momo waited for an answer, probably feeling entitled to one before she remembered you’d never given in to her.

“How are you feeling?” She tried again, leaning against the counter across from you. Her soft tone matched her eyes this time, so you allowed yourself to answer her.

“Fine, I guess.” You shrugged, eyes sweeping the floor. “It went well.”

She nodded, hesitating. “Yeah, it did. My parents were impressed.”

“That’s good to hear.” You replied, not looking at her.

Momo took a deep breath, steeling herself. "About earlier... I'm sorry. I’m the one who started yelling. Wasn't really professional of me."

You chuckled, finally meeting her eyes. "Did you just apologize? Didn't know you had it in you."

Her irritation flared once more. "I'm serious, Y/n. I get that this isn’t something you’re used to from me, but I can admit I was out of line."

"Okay, okay," you said, raising your hands. "Apology accepted."

You were so… nonchalant about it. As if you couldn’t care less. If you were honest, you could, but the reaction you were having didn’t exactly reflect that. It wasn’t the one she expected and she didn’t like it.

She almost started another argument before catching herself. Her jaw clenched, holding back some words to replace them with others she deemed more… gentle. Better suited to air out her frustrations. “Why are you still so defensive? The tasting went well anyway, didn’t it? Everything was perfect, my parents loved it, and everything has your name on it. You got what you wanted so why the attitude? Stop being so childish.”

That kind of shut you up. Momo couldn’t believe the silence that followed her words. She was right, you were adult enough to admit that. Just not enough to do it out loud. Not enough not to talk back.

You just had to do it for some reason. Maybe it was because her words struck a nerve, hitting closer to home than you were willing to admit.

"Fine," you muttered. "But you’re not exactly making it easy."

You honestly felt like a child, not being able to process or understand what's happening, so you took out your frustrations the only way you knew how to : throwing a tantrum.

Momo sighed, exasperated. "Are you going to keep this up during the banquet too? Does talking back to me and disregarding me turn you on or something?"

You scoffed, but it’s painfully evident in the moment, that you’re indeed attracted to her. But you’d never admit that either. You wouldn’t because, apart from her being attractive, you can’t tell why that is. “You wish.”

“You know what, maybe I do.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, and Momo caught you struggling. She wanted—no, she needed—to let you know. That you couldn’t hide from her. Yet her lips refused to do anything else than let you know her own truth.

“Maybe then I could make a reason out of your behavior,” she whispered, words trembling in frustration.

Silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but odd. Eerie. Neither of you knew what the next words would be or where they’d come from, but you sure were getting ready for them.

Her eyes weren't looking into yours anymore. They were searching, reflecting, maybe even reaching out to her own fears. You saw it—the shift, the hesitation.

You didn’t expect her to speak up first.

“If you can’t do it for me then do it for yourself,” she started, “If this fails my family will take a hit, sure, but ultimately you and I both know we’ll be fine. Your career’s the only thing on the line here.”

Her voice was cold, icy, cutting through your ego with reminders of where you stood in this environment. In this industry. She jabbed her finger against your chest, making each one of her points clear and painful.

So you grabbed her hand, pushing it down with enough force to make a statement and let your stubbornness shine through yet again

"Don't," your voice low, enough of a threat to pull a reaction out of her too.

Momo's patience snapped. She grabbed a fistful of your white button-up, creasing up your pride and pulling you closer, her eyes not leaving yours.

You noticed for the first time, just how pretty she was and how dangerous that is. Your heart was desperate to make you feel it, practically racing against her own.

“You know what,” a smirk quivered on your lips at how tightly she held onto you. “Maybe this is all about more than just work.” You strained out, words slipping and pushing through the limits you’d drawn around her.

You reveled in the way she let you go. Her fist released your shirt, pushing you away only for her fingers to linger on the fabric and keep you from going too far.

You made a point to step back, biting the inside of your lip when she took a stepped forward.

Maybe it did turn you on a little.

"I warned you earlier, didn't I?” Her eyes burned into yours, as if trying to distract you from the weakness she’s been displaying. “You do whatever you want on Friday. One wrong move, and I might just keep my word this time."

"Maybe you should," you retorted, your eyes flashing with defiance, provoking the spark of anger in her own.

Her proximity was intoxicating. It would be betraying your own words, painting a coward out of yourself, but you still tried to step away. Your foot carefully slipped back, ready to carry you elsewhere and flee.

Halfway there, and you were back to square one. Suffocating under Momo’s impulse, drowning into the feeling of her lips continuously crashing against yours…

She pulled you back in even closer, her fist having claimed itself around the fresh crease of your shirt. You didn’t fight to remove it this time, finding it much easier and pleasant to surrender.

Your kisses were vicious against each other’s. Anything but gentle, fueled by anger and weeks of built up frustrations.

You lost yourselves into a simmering attraction neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Even when you found enough strength to pull apart. And even less when you realized just how much it took to do so.

The air seemed to thin out, charged with more tension than it held moments ago. More than ever before.

Your breaths were heavy, mingling with hers as you stared at each other’s features in shock and confusion.

Momo’s eyes were hazy, lips a neat mess and swollen from the kiss. “This doesn’t change anything.” she whispered, visibly shaken by her own actions.

You only nodded, busy trying yet unable to process the depth of what just happened. She slipped herself away from your arms and you watched her go, a mixture of frustration and longing churning in your chest.

The night felt colder, the kitchen emptier as you stood there, thoughts in a whirlwind. The kiss had changed everything and nothing, leaving both of you with more needs and questions than before.

—

“You kissed her?!”

“No, she kissed me!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

It really didn’t, Jeongyeon was right. So you let her slap you on the arm, the sting a light and playful discipline.

A couple of days passed, and you wasted two days of your hard earned break wallowing on your couch until Jeongyeon came by to drag you out of it for brunch. You complained the whole time, for entertainment purposes, but you were thankful for her.

With how busy you’d been since joining Momo, the two of you had only seen each other once. You made sure to keep her updated though, or rather she did by pestering you and teasing you about both your behaviors. She managed to keep herself up to date with every single little thing that had happened between you and Momo.

All except the latest.

“Like it’s my fault?” You argued, “Who wears a cropped dress shirt to a tasting…”

Jeongyeon chuckled at the state of you. All sprawled out on the table, chin resting on your forearm as you played with a few crumbs of your toast. She noticed the way your eyes wandered far away from this table, probably digging into your memories of Momo in that cropped dress shirt.

How pathetic, to her delight.

She shrugged at your words, reaching for her cup. “Less fabric, less stain prone. She’s got a point.”

You threw a piece of bread at her, but she dodged. “Why did she wear a tie then?” You straightened yourself up in your seat. “Seems to me like that would be just as much fabric as a regular dress shirt.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, “Stop blaming the shirt, and get a grip. You kissed her because you like her.”

“Back. I didn’t kiss her, I kissed her back.”

“That’s still a lot of kissing. So you’re not denying it, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, and snickered when you sighed. “You like her.”

You ran a hand through your hair, exasperated. "I don't even know what I feel, Jeongyeon. It's... complicated."

Jeongyeon smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Feelings usually are. But denying it won't make it any less true."

You groaned. "She's infuriating. One minute she's criticizing everything I do, the next she's—."

"Kissing you," Jeongyeon finished, taking a sip of her coffee.

You wanted to knock that smirk of hers (lovingly) off her lips, but resigned, feeling yourself smile at the joke. Too bad she was being truthful too.

"Yeah.” You fiddled with a napkin in your reach, your smile fading as you thought back to the moment. “And it wasn't just a peck, you know? It was... intense."

Jeongyeon chuckled. "Sounds like there's some serious chemistry there. Maybe all that fighting was just foreplay."

You glared at her, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips again. "You're not helping."

She leaned forward, her expression softening. "Look, Y/n, you've always been passionate about your work. Maybe she sees that and respects it, even if she has a hard time showing it. She's probably just as confused about her feelings as you are."

You sighed again, feeling the weight of her words. "Maybe. But what do I do now? She’s git the worst timing ever, we’ve got the banquet coming up; I can't afford any distractions."

Jeongyeon smiled knowingly. "Just be honest with yourself. And let go of your pride a little, who knows, maybe then she’ll be nice to you. If what you both truly want is for that banquet to work out, you’ll know to set this aside for now. Behave, and the rest will follow. Probably."

You gave Jeongyeon a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by her attempt to absolve herself of responsibility. "Probably?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Jeongyeon shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, I'm just here to nudge you in the right direction. The rest is up to you. Relationships are messy, but you'll never know if you don't try."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair again. "I guess you're right. It's just... a very uncharted territory right now."

Jeongyeon nodded, her expression turning sincere. "I know. But she might just be worth getting into it, I mean… I wouldn’t mind letting my guard down around her.”

You rolled your eyes, "Of course you wouldn't."

"You should do the same," she said teasingly. "Seriously, Y/n."

You looked down, a small smile playing at your lips. "Maybe. We'll see."

"That's the spirit,” Jeongyeon grinned. “Now finish that toast and get back out there. You've got a banquet to hold. And a girl to figure out."

You chuckled, “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Jeongyeon."

"Sure. Just invite me to the wedding."

—

Momo stood in front of the grand mirror in her room, adjusting the final touches of her outfit. The sleek black suit, paired with a statement pearl choker, gave her an air of authority and elegance she loved to see on herself. The sharp lines of the fabric contrasted with the delicate jewelry, creating a powerful and refined look.

She glanced at her reflection, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind raced with thoughts of the evening ahead, the guests, the speeches, the food, and most of all, you.

Since that kiss, everything had become a whirlwind of confusion. You were infuriating, challenging, and utterly impossible to read. The kiss had only complicated things further, as if that relationship needed another tangled strain. What was she thinking… It was hard to focus on anything else when she replayed the moment in her mind, over and over again. Your lips on hers, the intensity, the fire—it had been unexpected, unplanned, and yet, it felt strangely good.

And then there was Jihyo. The situation with her was just as headache inducing. Jihyo's texts, her father's manipulations, and the pressure to stay in the company-everything just kept weighing on her. Yet somehow, in the midst of it all, she didn't mind any of it. As if the kiss had awakened something in her, something allowing her to bear all that weight. She hadn't felt that in a long time. It made her question everything, including her feelings for you and what she truly wanted for her future.

She didn’t like that. But she didn’t exactly mind it either.

As she walked into the venue, her eyes scanned the room, filled with guests fighting for best dressed mingling along with some others… settled for comfort. The atmosphere was buzzing, poking at Momo's racing heart. She felt nervous, not just from the pressure of the evening, but from the thought of seeing you again. She hadn't seen you since that night in the kitchen, and she wasn't sure what to expect.

It took a while, but her eyes finally found you across the room, looking dapper in your chef's uniform. For the first time, as a sign of gratitude and hopefully good news for your future, you were made to wear the official uniform of the Hirai kitchens. The jet black jacket, adorned with the restaurant's insignia, felt weird and new, but the colors … You could get used to them, and the material was soft enough.

You were talking to one of the guests, a polite smile on your face, but she could see the tension in your posture. You must have felt her gaze because you looked up, eyes locking with hers for a brief, electrifying moment.

You took Jeongyeon's advice to heart, determined to behave, to keep things professional despite the need to lash out at your own confusing feelings, and by extension; her. So you approached her cautiously, using the distance separating her from you to try and calm that pounding in your chest.

"Momo," you greeted, your voice came out steady enough, but your eyes betrayed your nerves.

"Y/n," she replied, her own voice calm.

You stood there for a moment, the silence hanging heavy with the memory of your kiss, a palpable tension neither of you could ignore.

"You look nice. Very professional," You finally said, breaking the silence. Your words were sincere, and for a moment, Momo's heart slowed.

"Thank you," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. "You look... different."

You chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension. "Yeah, I do. It feels weird but... good."

You stood still. Just there, awkward and unsure, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Anyone passing by could tell there was something between you two, although not able to put their finger on it. Not any more than you could. But you tried; to find a way to move forward without letting your emotions get in the way of the night's success.

"I think we should... talk maybe," You said, your voice dropping to a low, almost hesitant tone.

Thankfully Momo nodded, wanting nothing more. Until she remembered where she was. "Yeah, we do. But maybe not here. Later?"

"Later," you agreed, relief evident in your eyes. "For now, let's focus on tonight."

"Agreed," she said, her resolve strengthening. "Let's give them a night to remember."

—

The banquet was in full swing, and Momo couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she watched the guests enjoy the evening. After her brief but intense interaction with you, she’d thrown herself full swing into hosting, greeting the most important guests warmly and ensuring everything was running smoothly. She could see you, now dressed in the official Hirai colors, making your rounds with the staff in the kitchen through the glass doors.

She liked the sight. Enjoyed it even.

As the main courses began to be served, Momo took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the room. Everything seemed perfect, but she knew better than to let her guard down, and just as she was about to step back into the fray, one of the staff members approached her, looking visibly distressed.

"Ms. Hirai, we have a problem in the kitchen," the staff member whispered urgently, causing a surge of anxiety within her.

“What kind of problem?”

"The main course... there's an issue with the meat—well, it’s more the ovens not working properly—but we don't have enough time to fix it without some quick thinking."

Momo's heart picked up the pace again. This could ruin the entire evening.

Without a second thought, she hurried towards the kitchen, her mind racing with solutions. As she entered, she found you there, looking equally concerned.

“Y/n,” she called out, catching your attention. “We have a problem.”

The tension between you both flared up instantly, old arguments resurfacing in the heat of the moment. You tried to stay focused, but her presence was both a distraction and a relief. You were stressed, and seeing her only added to the pressure.

Momo crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's going on? Why wasn't I informed earlier?"

Your jaw tightened, trying to keep your frustration in check. "It's under control. We have a backup plan. I'm using the emergency meat, but we need to cook it quickly and differently."

"Good," she said, biting back her irritation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You paused, debating on teasing her about stepping in, but it wasn't the time nor place. "Can you go around and make sure everyone is on time? Report back to me if there's any issue."

She nodded, her gaze softening slightly. "Got it."

As she moved through the kitchen, checking on the staff and ensuring everyone was on schedule, she couldn't help but notice the tension in your posture. Despite the pressure, you remained in control, your hands moving with precision as you prepped the backup meat. She saw the way your brows furrowed, the way you bit your lip in concentration. It struck her how much you actually cared, how deeply invested you were in all this.

When she returned to you, she gave a quick update. "Everyone's on track. No issues so far."

"Good," you replied, a brief moment of relief flashing in your eyes before the stress settled back in. "Thank you."

Momo only nodded. She wanted to say more, to ease your tension, but the words wouldn't come. So she just took a step back, intending to head back out when her eyes caught sight of a pile of uncut vegetables next to you.

"Is anyone on these?" she asked, motioning to the vegetables.

You cussed under your breath at the sight of them, wiping the sweat from your forehead. The meat chaos had messed with your train of thoughts... "Damn it, no. I completely forgot."

Momo stepped closer, pushing her sleeves up. "Relax. I'll handle it."

"What—Are you sure?"

You would question the move, but the help she was offering was too precious.

Momo nodded, already reaching for a knife. "Yeah. How do you want them cut?"

The way she proceeded to handle that knife shouldn’t have been a surprise. She did belong to a respectable culinary lineage, but seeing her in action was something else entirely.

You felt a strange sense of relief wash over you as you witnessed her skills from the corner of your eye. The fact that she was actually helping you made the situation feel a little less overwhelming.

The two of you worked side by side, and you could feel the tension easing up its hold onto the two of you as the minutes passed.

It was suddenly easier to breathe.

—

Much later in the night than you’d have liked, you stood outside the restaurant, the air of the night cool against your skin as you savored the last drags of your cigarette.

The streets were calm, the occasional hum of traffic in the distance adding a weirdly soothing track to the end of it all.

The banquet, everything had finally come to an end, and successfully, but the lingering thoughts of Momo and your unresolved tension clouded your mind.

You mindlessly watched as the guests left one by one, their laughter and chatter fading as they climbed into expensive cars and drove away. The soft glow of taillights disappeared around corners, leaving the street empty and silent every time.

You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the dark sky above.

Sure, that little moment in the kitchen earlier was nice, but… There was still a lot to work through.

A familiar sound of stilettos against the rough concrete pulled your eyes off and away from some sweet looking Mercedes. It didn’t compete with the sight you knew was awaiting

Momo stepped outside and startled you with a soft, “You smoke too much.”

You looked over, a faint smile on your lips. “Well, I’m trying to quit, but I deserve this one.”

She chuckled, taking a seat beside you. You watched her, feeling bad for the expensive suit you’d eyed any chance you got. All night. “You’ll mess your pretty clothes up,” you said, stubbing out the cigarette.

“Who cares,” she brushed off. “Night’s over anyway.”

You nodded. Couldn’t argue with that. “Congratulations, by the way. Was your mom proud?”

Momo smiled at the recent memory of her parents congratulating and thanking her for her hard work. “Yeah, they both were.”

You eyed her fingers as they fiddled with each other. It made you smile, how no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to hide that shy part of her.

“Was the outfit supposed to be a statement?” you asked, and she shuffled, telling you it might have been. It amused you. “You shouldn’t have. Did it shake you up that much?” You smirked as though you hadn’t gone to cry about it to Jeongyeon.

“About that night…” she trailed off, silently hoping you’d take the reins.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell your suitors.” You shrugged, half-jokingly.

A small, playful but sincere gesture that slapped Momo in the face. She had completely forgotten about her little side quest with the pressure of the past few days. And also because you’ve been the only thing on her heart’s mind since your kiss. Before stepping out to join you, she even cut things off with Jihyo through a text, thinking it was finally the end of it all. She’d forgotten about all the other ones.

“Oh.” She managed to say after slowing her thoughts down. “Thanks.”

“No problem…”

A few long and awkward seconds passed.

“Wait, are you gonna carry on with those?”

Momo pursed her lips, thinking. “I don’t know.”

She really had no idea. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to quit the company anymore. Until her dad told her he’d slowly been warming up to her decision as he left moments ago, she forgot this was her last project.

It was great news, yeah, if it weren’t for one little detail you helped her realise a little too late.

She didn’t want it to be.

Momo cleared her throat, her lips opening and closing a few times before managing to get the words out. “Are you going to stick around?” she tentatively asked.

You shrugged, playing it cool although you had a feeling her question meant good news. Hopefully in both professional and personal parts of your life. “If you want me to.”

Momo grinned, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You nodded, suppressing a smile. “Will you?” you asked, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Will you stick around too? Or are you quitting and leaving the country to become a dance teacher on the other side of the world?”

“How do you know I dance?” She laughed.

“You’re a public figure, Momo. Investments make headlines, especially the heartfelt ones,” you reminded, referring to the time she donated a generous amount to her old dance school in need.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Not really. Just news stuff.”

“Right.” You felt her eyes on you, rightfully suspicious. Another silence settled, although this one was a little less awkward and shorter. “Have you always wanted to be a chef?”

You simply nodded at the question, not wanting to dull the moment with details. “Thank you for the opportunity by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you, how rude of me.”

“You’re welcome,” she chuckled. “You deserved it. A lot of guests asked me to send their compliments to the chef.”

Her nudge to your ribs made you pull away instinctively, the sudden contact sending a rush of warmth to your chest. You looked down, hiding your smile as your mind rewound back to your first meeting. “You never called me chef, by the way.”

“And I never will,” she said assuredly, making you chuckle. It was all you could do for now with your focus on her hand fiddling with your own, watching as she intertwined her fingers with yours, the other caressing the exposed and sketched skin of your forearm.

She sure had gotten comfortable. The way she leaned into you, her touch becoming more familiar and assured... You wondered where it came from for a second before remembering how bad of a job you were doing at hiding the effect she had on you so far.

Well, if that’s what it got you…

“Bet on that?” You teased. A little provocation, for grounding purposes.

Momo just nodded though, still assured, and it made you even more curious about what she had in mind for her to be. “Why not?” you probed.

She only smiled, observing your features long enough to make you blush in the night. She inched her face closer to yours, her hand squeezing around yours. It felt only natural for you to lean in, and the nose scrunch she did was new, but the grin that came with it had you guessing it was a good thing. She couldn’t help but giggle as you leaned in, and you almost forgot what had pushed you so close until she spoke up.

“I’ll call you much better, and more flattering things than ‘chef’… darling,” she whispered.

You folded immediately, and this time, you were the one that kissed her. This one was much sweeter, softer. Flavors from the night dancing on your lips, teasing the ones on your tongues. Dessert and smoke, a blend of sweetness and bitterness that felt just right.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, you felt her lips turn into a smirk against yours.. “Doesn't mean we’re done arguing, though.”

“It doesn't?”

She shook her head, her free hand reaching for a displaced lock of your hair. “Not until you quit smoking.”

“I told you I’m already trying to.”

“I know, but I also happen to think you look hot doing it.”

“Can’t wait to fight about me being hot then.”

———

epilogue if you want

@cry4mina thank you for supportively bullying me to finish this i hope you liked it

#momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo angst

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I absolutely loveeeee your writing!!! Hopefully you’re still doing requests hehe…

Maybe reader and Hoshina were childhood bffs and then the reader’s family sent her abroad (maybe to serve in another county’s defense force???) but now she’s back in Japan and assigned to the Third Division. And ofc they still make an amazing team and know each other by heart and maybeeeee some feelings start to rise now that they’re adults and all that???

HELLO I'm so happy you love my writing! Of COURSE I'm still doing requests, I'm having too much fun with everyone's prompts so thank you for sending me more suggestions!

No Matter The Distance

You were dreaming of Soshiro again. This time you recalled the memory of when you were eight and you'd tripped and scraped your knees so he carried you home on his back. You were such a crybaby back then. You nearly soaked his shoulder, sobbing from the pain. He sang to you the whole way home so you'd focus on his voice and not your bleeding knees. He surprisingly sang rather well.

"Sing to me again." You mumbled in your sleep as you rolled over onto your side. "I like when you sing... to me..."

When you woke up in the morning, he was neither singing to you nor carrying you, in fact, he wasn't even in the same country as you. It was a rude awakening every time and you still hadn't gotten used to it.

You knew it was naive of you to cling to memories from your past, but when you relived them every night it didn't seem so long ago. But now that you counted, it had been about six years since you'd seen him. You'd known each other since preschool and you'd parted ways when you both turned 18. Your parents thought you'd make a better life for yourself in America so you were shipped overseas, never to see his smiling face again.

You wondered if he dreamed about you too. You wondered if he was even the same person you remembered. It'd been over half a decade- a lot could change. You hoped he was still the same. You knew that was naive too.

You try to quit sulking and you finish getting ready for work. You clock in at 0800 and report for duty. You are surprised to find that your commanding officer has been waiting for you to arrive. She takes in the sight of you as if it's the last time she'll see you. Then she smiles. "Good morning Vice Captain."

You nod to her. "Cap'n. Mornin'. What're all the long looks for?"

Her weight shifts and she clears her throat. "Well, it seems the General has made an alliance with the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force and as a show of good faith, he's sending one of our best soldiers to their side."

You raise an eyebrow. "The Director General himself? Who could be important enough from our team that he'd send so far across the seas?"

She coughs.

OH.

"Maybe, I don't know, the youngest female to make Vice Captain in the shortest amount of time? Maybe someone with, I don't know, Japanese background?"

Yup.

You can't decide if you're honored, nervous, scared, or excited. You haven't been back home in so long. Will it still be the same? The same restaurants, the same stores, the same people. Will they still be waiting for you?

"You fly out at 1200."

Your brows furrow. "You're giving me 4 hours to pack up all my things and say goodbye to everyone? That's ridiculous."

She nods sympathetically. "I know. But he wants to get this show on the road, it seems."

You sigh. "Alright. I'll head back to my place, please assemble the squad before I go so I can give everyone my best wishes."

You pack up your entire apartment in two hours. You have less things than you thought you did. You guess that some small subconscious part of you kept you from collecting too many things that would keep you grounded here. Maybe you always knew you'd return home.

It takes even less time to say bye to everyone. You're ready to ship out in just under three hours and the pilot shrugs, saying you're his only passenger anyway and he can afford to leave early. The Director General lent you his private plane after all.

You can't do anything about your nerves so you make the best of this trip, ordering lavish foods while you read. Your favorite book is one that Soshiro bought for you and the ink from the personal message he wrote on the inside of the front cover is so faded from you constantly rubbing your thumb over it nostalgically.

Soshiro. You'll be there soon.

You sleep through most of the flight. You dream about him again, to no one's surprise at this point.

This time you're both 17, you both snuck out of training together to attend a typical high school party. You were in agreement that the two of you wanted one normal high school experience before you both went off and joined the Defense Force and became stiff, disciplined officers. Of course, you'd tease Soshiro that you couldn't see him ever being stiff or disciplined.

Anyway, you'd been playing spin the bottle and Soshiro's spin landed on you and the both of you ended up in a closet together.

"Well this is a stupid game." He grumbled as he searched for the light to the closet. He would never make you do anything against your will and he found it ridiculous that that's exactly what this game was made for.

But you didn't find it ridiculous. You found it lucky. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest. You grabbed his hand before it reached the light switch and you kissed him in the dark.

He hesitated and then he kissed you back, gently pressing you up against the wall.

When someone knocked on the door seven minutes later, he locked the door and stayed in there with you until he was ready to leave. He must've known if the two of you stepped outside, you'd both go back to acting like nothing happened. Like you had plenty of time to figure out these messy feelings of yours. But neither of you could predict that you wouldn't even be in the same country as him a month later, so you both kept ducking the topic and pushing your feelings for each other down. And then it was too late.

Six years too late, you thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered open. The plane was descending. You were arriving in Japan as last.

You wondered who you'd be serving under and if Soshiro would be in the same platoon. The JAKDF had several divisions, it wasn't guaranteed that you'd even be in the same one as him. You'd been told that the position of Vice Captain had been recently opened at one of the Divisions and you were there to fill that spot. You'd do your best to fill the shoes of whoever came before you and make your team back in America proud.

As you step out of the plane you're greeted by your new teammates in the Third Division. Your eyes scan the crowd and they finally find the person they're looking for.

Your breath catches in your throat and you freeze on the last step of the plane.

He holds a hand out to you to help you down all the way.

"Welcome to the Third Division. I'm Captain Hoshina."

You take his hand and step down the last stair. You don't let go of his hand even when he's introducing you to the troops. You think this might be you dreaming about him again and you don't dare let go just in case.

He doesn't seem to mind. He keeps a firm grip on you and when you've finally greeted everyone he tells them he needs to discuss more matters with you privately.

The two of you enter his office and he closes the door behind him. Before you can speak, he's wrapped you up in a warm hug. "Vice Captain, huh? Impressive." He whispers, still holding you close.

You close your eyes and just soak in his voice. "Not as impressive as you- Captain Hoshina. And here I always thought I'd beat you to Captain when we were kids."

He chuckles and the familiar rumble of his laughter makes your heart skip several beats. He releases you from his arms so he can get a good look at you, but he still holds your hands tight in his. "I really never thought I'd see you again. And look at you now. Gorgeous as ever."

You blush. "Still cheeky I see."

He grins widely. "Still me. Always."

You're relieved. He doesn't seem to have changed at all, just gotten a little taller. And a little more... you gulp, a lot more muscular. You didn't realize it when he was holding you close because you were so focused on the way he smelled and the way he sounded. But now that you were getting a full view of him, you could see the efforts of his training peeking through his shirt. You blush deeper. Thank god he's a little dense and doesn't notice. He's just excited to see you again, he doesn't care if you're flushed or not.

"Hey- dinner on me later? We can go to that diner we liked." He nudges your arm.

You smile. "Yeah? I'm game, especially if you're buying."

He walks you to your room and then leaves you alone to unpack your things. You wish he wouldn't go but you know he has a division to run.

"Captain." You say to yourself, shaking your head. You hoped he would be in the same division as you, but you never could've imagined he'd be working this closely with you. You'll have to pay a visit to the shrine later and thank the gods.

You finish unpacking and you meet Soshiro for dinner in the cutest outfit you can find. You wonder if he'll notice.

He notices.

"So you don't wear the combat suit 24/7?" He teases.

You roll your eyes thinking he's not going to say anything else but then he looks away for a moment.

"You, um... you look real good."

You wonder where his confidence from earlier went. He can get away with calling you gorgeous but now here he is making the word "good" look difficult. You almost laugh.

He opens the door to the restaurant for you and then when you're led to a table, he pulls the chair out for you. You don't remember him being such a gentleman but he was still a teenager last time you saw him. It seems he has grown some after all.

As you eat dinner, you fall back into old rhythms- you steal food off of his plate and he does the same to yours. You even sword fight him with your chopsticks and he laughs the same familiar laugh that you love so much.

Then the drinks start to hit harder and the air seems to change between the two of you.

"So listen..." He starts, cautiously. He seems to get caught up in his own thoughts because he doesn't finish his sentence.

"I'm listening." You nudge him.

He gives you a small, pinched smile. "I don't know how to say this actually." He admits.

You wonder if he's thinking what you're thinking, but it's been so long you can't be sure. "You can say anything to me, you know that." You try to reassure him so that he continues.

He sighs. "Do you... remember going to a party? Back in high school?"

Ah. So he is thinking the same thing as you. You nod slowly.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Do you... remember what happened at that... party?"

You nod again, your cheeks starting to heat up at the thought of that mind-blowing kiss.

"It's just... we never... we never talked about it. And then you were just gone- just like that. And I know it's stupid to be bringing it up again so many years later, but you're the exact same as you've always been and I'm the same as I've always been and I just thought..." He trails off.

"You just thought...?" You lean in, hoping to god he finishes his sentence.

"I just thought... maybe now we could... talk about it? If-if you wanted."

"Okay, what do you have to say about it?"

He laughs at that. "Boy, you really don't make this easy do you? You never have."

"Sorry. I'll go first then, okay?"

He nods and waits for you to speak.

"I regretted it for six years."

He winces.

You backtrack. "Wait, sorry that's not how it was supposed to come out. Now you're making this hard."

You both laugh. Then he takes your hand.

"I think what you meant to say was you regretted leaving it the way we did?"

You nod. You're glad he's still able to understand you so well even after all these years.

"I do too. I thought, god, if I could just get one chance to tell her how I felt I'd do it. And now you're here and I'm stumbling over my words. But I need to say this. Because I can't wait another six years for you to find out that I love you. Because I love you. Always did, and still do."

You start to cry before you even realize it's happening. He immediately rushes over to your side of the table to brush the tears away.

"Hey, hey, did I say something wrong? Tell me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You can't figure out how to put the words together properly so you kiss him. He kisses you back more intensely than he did back then and you wish you can just freeze time so he can keep kissing you like this. Then he pulls away.

"You know, love, I like the way you're thinking but you still haven't given me an official answer."

You laugh. "I love you too- I should think it was obvious."

"Some of us only have half the brain that you do and need verbal confirmation."

"You got that right." You tease.

He wraps you up tight in his arms.

"So does this make us boyfriend-girlfriend?" He asks in his best "high schooler" voice, grinning like an idiot from ear to ear.

You roll your eyes. "Take me to the prom and we'll see about that."

He laughs. "Just let me date you already damnit."

You kiss him again.

"Was that a yes?"

You nod.

"Okay, again, I'm just checking."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #anime #hoshina #hoshina x reader #anime fanfic #fluff

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 months ago

Note

A freebie

Logan got out of the cab behind Wade and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Too late for the funeral, but not too late to make this so much fucking worse. He could still see you in his mind's eye yesterday. So fucking furious. At everyone. At him. At Wade. A wound torn open that was buried so deep you'd probably forgotten it was there.

Until he told you he was done sneaking around because he got what he wanted out of you. Not knowing THIS was about to happen.

It was- an okay restaurant. Lunch rush. He and Wade weren't exactly underdressed but in his Hawaiian shirt, Wade stuck out like a sore thumb at a table dressed in black. A family in mourning.

You're sitting at the end. Three half siblings and a stepmom you just fucking met talking about the man your father was. How kind and selfless. What a good dad. Stories of legendary Christmas mornings and silly things dads just do.

He and Wade watch for a moment as you smile politely and nod, "He could be... charming, that's for sure."

"Oh c'mon," Y/N the oldest boy- named Cody pushed, "You have to have some kind of story!"

"I didn't see dad much when I was little," you shrug, still politely smiling, "He was usually working-"

"Or cheating on our mom. Or gambling. Or doing a massive amount of drugs," Wade said pulling up a chair and sitting at the table. "Wade" he said introducing himself before looking at you, "You gonna eat this, it looks amazing?"

"Have at it," you murmur, "excuse me." You get up from the table unsteadily. You don't know these people but you can't watch this.And you can't stop Wade. He's about to Ruin the picture they have of their dad. THEIR dad. Not yours. And you can't- you don't want to have all those details laid out but you can't- it feels like you can't breathe as you stumble outside and lean against the building.

Logan looks from you to Wade. Not sure what to do. But the decision is made for him when he gets caught up listening to Wade as he tells stories- times your dad never showed up for you. Times he left you in the hospital alone and scared. The fighting. The ignored problems- before he finally just left when you were about five. Only bothering to call when he thought about it. but Oh! One time he sent a birthday card with no return address! That was fabulous! "So yeah," he finished. "She has a TON of great stories about our dad, Cody." He set down his fork and dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table before walking out, "Great catching up. Fuck off."

"Mouth-"

"Where'd she go?" Logan asked, his voice uncharacteristically tense.

"Outside," Logan said nodding to the door. He could smell you, pick that sweet aroma up anywhere. "Not too far."

Wade nodded and wound his way through tables deftly towards the door and Logan followed. His heart pounding. Over the traffic noise and the wind he could hear you. Trying not to cry. And however faintly, even at this distance, he could hear your heart pounding. Like hummingbird wings. Too much. This is all too much, he thought.

"Butterbean," Wade singsonged, skipping over, "I handled-"

"Don't," you warn. And the tone of your voice stops him short. It's low and almost dangerous. You're holding on to something by a very thin thread and it's fraying.

Logan recognizes a standoff when he sees one and the tension in the air is thick. Denser than the air in a dust storm. He finds himself calculating. You're human. You can't hurt them. But he knows with sudden, painful clarity that isn't the danger here.

And without looking at Wade, he knows that Wade knows it too. You're about to snap. The pressure and the pain are too jagged and too hungry.

"Cupcake," Wade said softly, "Come here?"

One wrong move. A calculated risk, he started forward with his arms out to hug you and you jerked, wheeling around to punch the wall.

And they both heard it. Bones fucking cracking. And the way you gasped, crumbling to your knees, cradling your wrist to your chest.

"Jesus," Logan breathed.

"You drive," Wade sighed, picking you up and jerking his head towards your purse. "I'm gonna pretend she didn't punch that bad on purpose."

#ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #wolverine #wolverine x reader #writer!reader

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roseluxxx · 1 year ago

Text

GHOSTIN

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

warnings: cursing, hispanics, part 1

word count: 1.1k

summary: sent to a town to finish a report, the ghost he’s living with decides.. maybe he should stay

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. The last truck is finally ready to move with all the latest equipment needed for this study; it cannot be procrastinated any longer, O’Hara.”

“Ay dios mío.” the scientist ran his fingers through his hair, eyes wide at the news that the “months away” move to a reclusive house in a far away “no-name” town was tomorrow.

This was technically his fault as his reluctance to complete the report on “Gene Growth Combined Experiment 4 (chemical X42): A conclusion on the development of the embryo.” as the full title stated, finally caught up to him.

He had just been busy developing the Spider-Anthropoid’s final stages; an equally important trial study to him, but not so much to Alchemax.

“You have a month at most, I will try to advocate for an extended stay but it’s in your best interest to finish this conclusion report swiftly. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Wonderful. Now get out of my office O’Hara, the driver will take you to your place and pick you up nice and early tomorrow. Be ready.”

Miguel fought back his taunting remark and left the cold, heartless office.

His work was important. If successful it would create the first human-spider hybrid combination and create an endless amount of possibilities. Ideally to improve the state of the common person, but he wasn’t naive enough to not think it wouldn’t be used for military advances.

“What time tomorrow?”

“9am sharp. Won’t be me though, my friend Gus will he here.” The driver glacéd in the rear view mirror as he pulled up to the window filled penthouse Miguel had the luxury to live in.

“None of my business, sir, but a word from my eavesdropping on the men who I chauffeured earlier.. apparently your new short term living space comes with a rumored “ghost friend”.”

Miguel scoffed, grabbing his coat and laying a few bucks in the drivers’ outstretched hand as he opened the car door, “If it’s none of your business then stay out of it,” he exited the car, “but thanks, chismoso.”

The next morning Miguel snatched the suitcases he packed, shut his blinds and locked his door, making his way to the waiting Taxi.

“Be ‘bout a 20 minute drive to the airport, sir, including traffic.”

He grunted in response, looking out the window as he half listened to the clearly extroverted mans’ essay on his new city’s attractions.

“Yep. But I did hear about that ghost in your house. Good luck with that.”

Miguel’s ears perked up. Ghost? All this talk about this damn ghost was getting him annoyed. Even if there’s such a thing as ther paranormal, he won’t be bothering them and subsequently they don’t have to bother him. Easy.

The yellow cab pulled up to the front of the airport, crowded as usual, and the broad man reluctantly gripped his belongings, giving the world another sigh before preparing himself for a 2 hour flight.

The keys were old, silver, the three individual ones clinging against each other as Miguel pulled them out of the mailbox, a letter falling to the ground.

To Current Renters,

Please note that this property is built on a solid foundation and the doors are properly built into the door frame.

A house is built with consideration to weather events so a very slight creak/sway is expected and not worrying.

It prevents the house from being too stiff and allows for a longer lifespan.

The windows may also be slightly loose within the window frame so feel free to lock them if the draft becomes too much.

No need to report noises either as the walls may run a little thin and animal calls can sound like humans if you are listening through a surface like a wall.

All this to say do not call us to report noises, wind, or creaking in the house.

Sincerely,

(for real.. do not contact us with these issues)

The Owner - Stephen Vincent

He opened the door on his second try, figuring the other keys lead to some kind of garage or safe. The door swung open with a small groan, almost apprehensive with his arrival.

The house itself was comfortable. A glass sliding door across the living space connected to large windows showcasing the beauty forests have to offer; a patio sitting beyond the door.

The kitchen was adorned with dark gray marble tops and a gray and white overall aesthetic for the counters and appliances. It was simple, classy, exactly what his boss thought would allow his mind to stay focused on his task.

Speaking of, the office space had been pre-turned into a small research center complete with the necessary chemicals, equipment, and state of the art technology. If he hadn’t known better he would’ve thought he had a whole mother experiment to conduct while he only needed to draw the conclusions in a consiste report.

That would be left for later, though. He entered what seemed to be his room. Comfortable. A light grey and white with a calming blue pop of color in the decor. Good enough.

Once his luggage had been felt with, he returned to the kitchen to find his fridge already stocked. Perfect.

He began a simple meal of blanco arroz con pollo frito when you saw him. Another one. Only one this time though. He should be easy enough.

You moved closer, getting a better look at this intruder. Immediately you noticed he was handsome, worth a second glance at least. He was toned beyond anyone who had set foot here before, a calm, concentrated expression settling on his face as he seasoned his chicken.

Miguel was dealing with the hot stove, his loungewear on that had just enough coverage to keep him warm when he stopped abruptly, feeling a chill run down his arm.

He dismissed it quickly. It was a new house to him and the air outside cooled drastically at night, a soft draft probably crept in. Big deal.

You decided rather quickly to let him stay for a bit. He was charming, exactly your type if you were honest with yourself which, ofcourse, you’d rather not be when said man barged into your home unannounced.

“You hold my interest,” you peaked at a blue ALCHEMAX security card, seeing the name Miguel O’Hara and the same man that was humming softly as he finished frying his dinner smiling up at you, “I’ll be watching, Miguel O’Hara.”

Thank you for reading! Reposts are extremely appreciated!❣️

A/N: Feel free to send in a request! (taking new ones for a short period of time)

This is part 1 to my new GHOSTIN series! Feel free to comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Like my work? Check out my masterlist!

Also the warnings were a joke (Hispanics)

dont take it up the ahh🥱

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demigod-shenanigans · 1 month ago

Text

Love will run deep like hurt runs out

Summary: Jason is sick. Being an ex-praetor, champion of Juno, son of Jupiter, he’s pretty sure that isn’t allowed.

Leo is dealing with some residual limb pain. After roughly three and a half months of this nonsense, he’s forced to admit that that’s maybe a little more allowed than he’d like it to be. Not while he’s trying to take care of his sick boyfriend, though.

Word count: 10.5k

Rating: Teen and Up

Current last part of this little AU and also the only one of my currently completed valgrace/HoO fics I hadn’t cross-posted to tumblr yet! This part is the longest by a lot, lmao. Can be read separately of the other fics!

I used the valgrace week assurance prompt a while back to finally get myself to finish it, and I ended up having a lot of fun with this! Something something Jason and Leo are both terrible patients and massive hypocrites. Also something something couples mutually comforting each other. Truly ridiculous amounts of physical affection in this one, these boys are unbearable about each other actually and I love them so much.

Also, to avoid confusion: should be pretty clear where it happens since it’s marked differently from the other scene changes but the fic starts out as a Jason POV and switches to Leo partway through!

———

Jason woke up drenched and freezing in the middle of the night. This would have been surprising, at least sort of, considering Camp Half-Blood wasn’t supposed to have weather, but his father had been in a mood lately, so it was less of a surprise than he wished. He just hoped it was something the gods could figure out among themselves for once, and not a sign someone was about to be sent on another deadly mission with the world at stake.

There was a part of Jason that wanted to just turn around and go back to sleep, but he knew that wasn’t a feasible solution, no matter how much he liked sleeping in the grass at the edge of the woods when he was feeling anxious.

It had been a bad week, as far as nightmares went, but this had helped a little—had soothed a childish instinct in him that had learned to feel at home in the wilderness. One that had known once he’d proven himself to Lupa, the pack would protect him. He was safe.

He hoped he’d proven himself to Camp Half-Blood, after everything.

But he really couldn’t stay out here with the weather like this. He’d been feeling a little off for days, and he couldn’t afford to get sick right now. There were things to be done. The permanent housing they were trying to establish for adult demigods who wanted to stay at Camp Half-Blood long-term wasn’t going to build itself. So he shook himself awake and got up.

He was covered in mud, but with the amount it was raining, that would probably resolve itself by the time he got back to his cabin. Because he would have to go back there, even if being watched by a stern statue of his father as he struggled to fall asleep didn’t exactly help his anxiety.

He could have been running back to the cabin to get out of the rain faster, but with how drenched he already was, he figured it didn’t really matter. He was too groggy for a decent run, anyway, and he really didn’t need to slip in the wet grass and concuss himself again. With his luck, Leo had been right about the existence of an angry Roman god of head injuries.

Jason didn’t go back to his cabin. He didn’t register where he was heading until he was already there, wet clothes dripping all over the floor of the forge.

It might have been the middle of the night, but Leo was still up, working on what Jason assumed to be a replacement part for Festus. There had been a lot of those lately, as Leo tried to figure out what was causing the misfire issues. He hadn’t been able to actually resolve them yet, but he was pretty enthusiastic about it, and Festus seemed thrilled with all the attention and Tabasco sauce he’d been getting.

Jason meant to say something when he entered, but Leo seemed so utterly absorbed in his work that for a moment, Jason was transfixed just watching his boyfriend’s practiced motions, hammering away on heated metal, changing the shape only slightly until he got it just right.

Jason had seen the gods do impossible things before, but this—the way Leo could create anything he set his mind to, from small toys to replacement parts for giant metal dragons to a trireme they’d spent several weeks living in—was a different kind of magic, and one he’d never grow tired of watching.

Leo turned to grab a tool off the workbench and noticed him. He yelped, almost jumping out of his chair.

“Gods, Jase, I thought you were a swamp monster for a second,” he said, eyes wide. “You can’t sneak up on me like that! What if I’d decided to blast fire first and ask questions later?”

“At least that might have dried my clothes?” Jason suggested, rubbing at his face. His throat felt weird when he spoke. His voice sounded a little off. “Sorry for sneaking up on you. Too tired to think.”

“Which brings me to my next set of questions: why are you up, and why are you drenched? Did you piss off the naiads or something?”

Leo had put the small hammer he’d been holding back on the workbench, and now Jason had his undivided attention. It was a completely stupid reaction in this particular context, but having Leo look at him like that still made his face feel hot. In the best possible way, undivided attention from Leo was something Jason would absolutely never get used to.

“I didn’t sleep great, so I got back up,” he said, not technically lying but not really telling the truth, either. He moved closer to Leo. The heat from the forge helped, but the shivering was far worse than he’d realized. He let himself sink to the floor, pressing his eyes closed for a moment. He felt off. “As for your second question: have you looked outside lately?”

The forge had been built to be partially open, which was the only reason most people were able to breathe in here, and also meant you had an excellent view of the ongoing rainstorm.

This should have made it impossible to miss, but Leo blinked, confused, like he’d only just realized what was going on outside.

“Oh shit, we’ve got weather.”

“Yeah.” Jason sighed. “My father is apparently having a bad time and decided everyone else also needs to have a bad time.”

“That sounds like him.” Leo shook his head. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Not surprised. You seemed really absorbed when I got here.” Jason shrugged. “Not like I’m any better. Pretty sure if a building collapsed around me while I was sketching, I wouldn‘t realize until one of the rafters hit me in the head.”

“Sparky, we talked about this. No tempting the head injury deities,” Leo joked, looking him over. “How did you get this muddy on a five minute walk?”

“I didn’t.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ve had a few bad nights. Sleeping outside helps.”

“And here I thought one of my foster siblings waking me with a wet washcloth to the face was a dick move. You got a whole storm.” Leo might still have been joking, but there was an anxious edge to it now. He kneeled down next to Jason and pressed a hand to his face, eyes wide with alarm. “You’re freezing. It’s mid-December, Jason. Were you trying to compete with Khione for icicle of the year?”

His hand was so warm that Jason wanted to melt into him.

The words “you’re hot” were out of his mouth before his brain could fully register what he was saying.

Leo grinned. “Yeah, I know, but it’s nice to be appreciated. C’mere, let’s get you warmed up.”

He wrapped around Jason, everything but his prosthetic leg slowly growing warm in a controlled burst of heat. After a moment of this, Jason’s clothes began to feel more moist than soaked, and the cold that had been seeping into his bones subsided. He still didn’t feel great, but he could have stayed like this forever, warm and comfortable and safe in a way he rarely felt. In a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt around anyone but Leo.

He had no idea how to express that, though—not even when he wasn’t sleep deprived and his head wasn’t spinning. In the current situation, all his brain unhelpfully supplied was “radiator boyfriend. Neat.”

It was stupid, and not at all what he’d meant to say, but Leo was laughing, so maybe he’d done something right. The laugh was a noise and a feeling with the way Leo was holding him. Jason’s limbs felt like pudding, and he knew it wasn’t just because of the warmth.

“I know, I know, you’ve got so much to brag about.” Leo was beaming. He was gorgeous, and also significantly blurrier than he’d been a moment ago. “Now we’re both nice and muddy, but at least you’re dry.”

“Mm.” Dry or not, Jason didn’t want to let go yet. “Do I win?”

Leo blinked. “What?”

“The icicle thing,” Jason said, and his boyfriend’s expression shifted again. Leo’s eyebrows drew together in something that was probably concern. Jason wasn’t entirely sure—mostly because the image was still swimming. That… probably wasn’t good.

“Yeah. Always. No competition.” Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re really out of it, hm?”

“I feel weird,” Jason admitted reluctantly. “It’s probably nothing.”

This was made slightly less convincing by the fact that he finished this sentence off with a coughing fit.

“Yeah, you’re sick. Garbage combo with being sleep-deprived and getting drenched, in my experience. You need to be inside, in a bed, like, three days ago.”

“Is time travel something you’re working on?”

“Obviously. What, did you think I was kidding all those times I talked about wanting to go back in time to kick my own ass?” Leo joked, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it. He kept looking at Jason like he was an unstable machine about to fall to bits. “Do you think you can get up?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, trying and failing to push himself up on his elbows. His head hurt, and his limbs still felt like pudding. “Actually, maybe I need a moment.”

“That’s fine,” Leo said, with an expression that didn’t fit the statement even slightly. “I need to get everything shut down, anyway. Just don’t fall asleep on me here. I do not feel like draggingyou all the way inside.”

~~~

Jason felt more relieved than he cared to admit that by inside, Leo meant the Hephaestus cabin and not taking him back to the Zeus cabin he’d avoided sleeping in for the past few days. Partially because he really didn’t feel like being scrutinized by his father’s statue now any more than he had a few hours ago, and partially because even after the full fifteen minutes of break he’d gotten while Leo took care of things at the forge, he genuinely wasn’t sure he could have made it all the way there.

He was exhausted and dizzy, and it was obvious enough that Leo kept anxiously joking about handing over his crutches.

The rain had stopped just as abruptly as it had started, but the cold wind didn’t seem to be going anywhere. In his infinite, severely addled wisdom, Jason tried to get it to die down himself, but all that achieved was almost making him black out on the spot, and the wind just seemed to target him more viciously afterwards.

It was a fairly short walk, but by the time they got inside Jason felt like an icicle all over again, despite Leo’s attempts to stay close and radiate warmth the whole way.

Leo had a nice room—cluttered and cozy and without any looming statues of his father standing over him as he slept. The walls were plastered with blueprints, written-on and covered in sticky notes. There were several layers of them, and even the top layer ones were partially covering each other because Leo had run out of space. In a few spots, pictures of their friends poked out from under the rolled-up edges of blueprints or had been pinned neatly to those that weren’t currently in use. The bedside table was a mess of several unfinished projects, and it was kind of a miracle it hadn’t broken down under the weight yet.

Jason liked being here. It was one of the few places in camp that actually felt private.

All the clutter had made him anxious at first. Even without his memories, he hadn’t been able to shake the Roman discipline that had been trained into him since early childhood.

But being around Leo meant chaos, and Jason had learned that was a good thing, more often than not. There was a kind of chaos that was terrifying, and there was a kind that made him feel alive, thrumming heartbeat and all. This kind of chaos was homey and lived-in and welcoming, in a way the Zeus cabin could never be. It didn’t feel like Jason had to carve out a space for himself here. It was already there—provided he didn’t mind accidentally sitting on a wrench every now and again.

The bed was small, which meant every time they had a movie night, they were squeezed tightly next to each other. Which, looking back on it, was maybe part of the reason they’d had so many of those even before they’d started dating.

Right now, Jason was mostly just relieved to be sitting down. The world grew a little less hazy.

“You want tea or something to get warmed up? I’d offer you cocoa, but I don’t think there’s enough sugar at camp for the amount you usually put in there,” Leo teased, sitting down next to him.

Jason immediately melted back into him, wrapping his arms around Leo’s back and pressing his face to his boyfriend’s warm cheek.

“Sure, or you could go ahead and leech all my warmth without asking,” Leo laughed, upping his body temperature a bit more. “Is this good? Anything else you need from me or am I fully replaceable by a portable heater?”

“You’re perfect. I love you.”

It felt impossible how easy that was to say, considering it was only the second time, and Jason hadn’t even said it out loud the first time.

Leo’s body temperature went up more, like a full body blush. Not that Jason was complaining.

“Flirting with a heater is a little weird, Superman,” Leo joked. “But hey, you didn’t even make any typos this time.”

“In my defense, I’m both dyslexic and suck at Morse code,” Jason laughed. He was pretty sure he was smiling like an idiot. He was also pretty sure he didn’t care. “Besides, you liked it.”

“You wish,” Leo replied, soft and fond. He shifted so he could wrap his warm arms around Jason again. “Love you, too.”

Leo had tapped out the words against the table at breakfast absent-mindedly a week and a half ago. Jason hadn’t understood what it meant, just that it was probably Morse code, and Leo had refused to tell him when asked, but he’d blushed so furiously that his head ended up on fire, which got the message across, anyway.

Jason had IMed Annabeth after and asked her to teach him, then practiced for three days because he really wanted to get it right.

He’d still managed to mess up at the end because he’d gotten nervous, spelling out “kof” instead of “you”, but he hadn’t had time to feel embarrassed about it. Leo had looked at him, wide-eyed, then beamed at him like he was the sun and kissed him, only stopping when he realized he was starting to burn a handprint into Jason’s shirt.

Maybe it had been too soon by regular mortal standards—Jason never could figure those things out, it wasn’t like he’d ever had much of a shot at a normal life—but demigod lives were short and they’d both already had one brush with death. Some things just weren’t worth the risk of waiting.

“Sorry for dragging so much mud into your room, by the way,” Jason sighed, halfway muffled by Leo’s warm shoulder.

His boyfriend snorted. “Oh yeah, because we both know I’m infamous for my clean room and even cleaner clothes. I’m basically obligated to break up with you now.” He gestured at the general chaos of the room, then down at himself, covered in oil and soot where he hadn’t absorbed Jason’s dried mud. “Pretty sure we both need a shower, but you don’t look like you’re getting back up. I can at least steal you some clean clothes from one of my siblings, since unfortunately I do actually have to shower before bed.”

“That can't wait until tomorrow?” Jason asked, not wanting to let go.

Leo sighed. “I wish. There are some unfortunate downsides to getting your leg chewed off—yeah, I know, who’d’ve thought. One of them is that if I try to skip my evening routine or shower in the morning, my stump is going to be a whiny nightmare about it.” He rolled his eyes. “Turns out I can set the whole thing on fire and that’s fine, but sometimes I’ll have swelling issues over warm water—because that makes sense. It would be kind of funny if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“Trials and tribulations of being a demigod,” Jason replied, trying to keep the mood light, because even with his brain full of fog, he knew Leo, and knew he still got anxious talking about this. “We should really get our money back.”

Hell, Jason felt like a terrible boyfriend for all the things he didn’t know Leo had to do differently since he’d lost part of his leg, but the only tidbits of information Leo had volunteered were shared through jokes, and pushing him when he wasn’t ready wouldn’t have been fair orproductive, no matter how much Jason wanted to help.

“Yeah, tell me about it. But whatever. I’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Leo smiled at him. “I have to make sure you’re properly warmed up before I leave, though. You gonna be alright here on your own? Need me to tuck you in?” It was only half-teasing.

Jason just sighed and let his head drop back onto his boyfriend’s warm shoulder.

~~~

Jason missed Leo’s warmth immediately. He changed into the borrowed pajamas his boyfriend had tossed at him on his way out, which took way longer than he cared to admit. Then he curled up under the blanket. He was immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, the heaviness in his limbs growing worse now that he was lying down. His head hurt.

He changed positions several times, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, but it didn’t really help.

He stared at the ceiling and tried to get his mind to stop racing. Despite how tired he was, sleep seemed impossible. Since getting back, it was like he’d been waiting for the next thing to go awry, keeping himself busy so he couldn’t think too much about whatever that next thing would be. At night, these thoughts were much harder to push away.

He should have been used to them by now, but he couldn’t deal with the nightmares, either. Lately, he’d had so many where all he could ever seem to do was watch. Watch as people got hurt and died around him during the battle of Mount Othrys. Watch Reyna fall several meters down the side of a mountain, unable to catch her because he couldn’t waste the opening she’d given him against Krios. Watch as a fight broke out between both Camps he called home, unable to stop it. Watch as they were nearly overrun by monsters because he wasn’t Roman enough for the undead legion to consider him a leader. Watch Leo turn himself into an inferno to stop Gaia, unsure if there would be anything left of him to revive.

Some hero he was.

Gaia was gone. Jason wasn’t having visions of terrible things that would happen in the future. But he didn’t feel calm or peaceful. He’d spent so much of his life fighting that he wasn’t sure he’d ever known what being at peace felt like.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion. Jason tried not to think, which was about as successful as one might expect.

By the time Leo got back, he’d worked himself into such an anxiety frenzy that when Leo flopped down on the bed, Jason accidentally gave him an electric shock.

“Ow! You don’t need to take the Sparky nickname so literally, you know.” The mattress moved next to Jason, and he briefly wondered if Leo had decided it wasn’t worth the risk of actually sharing the bed and was getting back up, but then his boyfriend’s hand was moving soothingly up and down his arm. “You good?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Still a little cold, but not sure what that was for.”

In another pointless attempt to get comfortable, Jason had moved to face the wall, so he was currently staring intently at blueprints for some sort of multi-functional weapon—a two-handed sword that could be transformed into a large shield, by the looks of it—instead of looking at Leo. It felt easier that way. If he’d been facing his boyfriend, Leo would probably be able to see how close he was to having a nervous breakdown, and then Jason would have to explain, and he didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to make himself an even bigger burden than he already was.

Jason was supposed to be a leader, for gods’ sake. He’d been in this life so much longer than anyone else he knew. He was supposed to be able to handle these things.

“Well, luckily for you, cold is something I’m an expert at fixing,” Leo announced, squeezing his shoulder. “Now scoot over, you’re hogging like three-quarters of my bed.”

It took Jason an embarrassing amount of effort to move. His limbs felt like they were made out of celestial bronze. Once he’d semi-successfully managed it, Leo wrapped around him, which made the effort more than worth it.

Jason could feel himself trembling against his boyfriend’s warmth. He knew it was more than just the cold—his anxiety made him feel just about ready to vibrate out of his skin. But he closed his eyes and tried to focus on Leo’s breaths, the way his chest rose and fell against his back, and it helped him get a handle on his own breathing. That was good. He really didn’t want to give Leo another shock by accident.

“You sure you’re okay?” Leo asked quietly. He sounded worried. Jason hated making him worry.

He was going to reply, but instead he just burst into another coughing fit, which wasn’t quite the answer he’d wanted to give.

“Sorry. Stupid question.” Leo moved his arm away from Jason’s chest. “You want me to wake Will? Oh, or I could get Kayla. Her sleep schedule is pretty shitty. She might still be up.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Amputee privileges. I spend so much time in the infirmary that I get inside scoop.” Jason could hear the grin in his boyfriend’s voice. “So, you know, might as well abuse those privileges for your sake while I’m at it.”

“No, that’s okay.” Jason took the arm Leo had been moving and pulled it back to its previous spot. “I think I just want to sleep.”

“Fine.” Leo moved his head, adjusting it against the back of Jason’s neck. His curls tickled a little. “I’m warning you, though, if you get any worse, I’m contractually obligated to drag you to the infirmary. If you have an issue with that, that’s on you for not reading the boyfriend fine print.”

Jason snorted. “You’re terrible.”

“I live to annoy and be your personal heat lamp, in that order.” Leo squeezed Jason’s hand. “Speaking of, is this okay? I could go warmer, but you’re not as cold as earlier, and I should probably save some of my hotness for daytime hours.”

“It’s perfect.”

Sleep came impossibly easy, with Leo wrapped around him like this, radiating warmth.

And even more impossibly, for once Jason didn’t dream.

~~~

Jason woke up feeling worse. His throat felt like someone had sandblasted it, his head hurt like hell and he was exhausted, despite having slept for most of the night.

Right. Nothing a little ambrosia couldn‘t fix.

He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings in utter confusion. He was lying on his back. He distantly remembered waking at one point throughout the night to find Leo sprawled halfway across him, but the comforting weight was gone from his chest now.

The bed had folded back out of Leo’s tiny room into the bigger Hephaestus cabin, which was currently pretty much deserted, except for Leo and, for some reason, Will Solace, who was standing next to the bed with a breakfast tray.

“Huh?” Jason rubbed at his eyes, trying to make sense of the scene through the haze in his head. Light streamed in through the windows, much too bright for the early morning wake-up time Jason had rarely been able to shake due to his childhood at Camp Jupiter. “What time is it?”

His raw throat didn’t really like him speaking very much.

“You slept through breakfast. Not too surprising, considering you look about as alive as you did the time you got incinerated by Hera and you spent like half the night-” Leo paused, wincing when Jason burst into a coughing fit. He moved to sit next to him on the bed and pat his arm gently, which did absolutely nothing except feel kind of nice. “-doing exactly that.”

“Okay, but what’s with the food?” Jason asked once his body would let him, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Will, who was setting down the tray on the weirdly empty bedside table.

“I spent about an hour making a mess of Chiron’s kitchen to cook you something. Sick people privileges and stuff. If anyone asks about broken mugs in the next few days, play dumb.” Leo was clearly going for careless nonchalance, but Jason could hear a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “Crutches are seriously inconvenient sometimes.”

“I had to have a conversation with him about pushing himself beyond his recovery timeline and trying to carry things around without his crutches while we’re still working on his balance,” Will commented, glaring at Leo in the worried doctor way that all Apollo kids seemed to inherit. “Especially when it made sense for me to come along to check on you, anyway.”

“You okay?” Jason asked worriedly, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. Leo felt kind of cold, which would have been alarming, except Jason wasn’t sure how much of that was his own body being seriously out of whack.

“Nope, nice try, but I’m the one fussing over you right now. Speaking of-” Leo turned back to Will, whose expression had softened, “I’m shit at normal human body temperatures, being the fire guy and all, but I’m pretty sure he’s running a fever.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely putting him on bed rest,” Will said, pressing a hand to Jason’s face.

Unlike Leo’s, Will’s hand was icy. Jason shivered and tried to pull away.

“Cold.”

“No, not even a little cold. Leo’s right about the fever,” Will concluded, thankfully removing his freezing hand from Jason’s face. “Flu. Nothing a few days of rest won’t fix, but I’ll get you something to help with the cough.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest—there were things to be done, he couldn’t just leave everyone else to do all the work, especially not for several days—but the only thing he managed was another lengthy, painful coughing fit.

“Hey look, even your body could tell you were about to say something stupid,” Leo teased, doing a terrible job of hiding the concern on his face. “You wanna try and at least drink something to make your throat feel a little less like shit? I get it if you're not hungry. I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like having, so I… may have gone a little overboard.”

He was seriously underselling it. He’d brought water and tea and orange juice. Food-wise, there was a plate of cut-up fruit, plain toast, scrambled eggs and some sort of soup that was still steaming and smelled great.

Jason’s throat went tight.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but just making food appear out of thin air felt like cheating, and I’m not gonna start half-assing the boyfriend thing already. I haven’t even had the job for that long. It’s too soon for me to start slacking off.”

“I’m not really hungry, but water sounds okay. The food looks amazing, though. I’ll eat something in a bit,” Jason promised, struggling to find the words to express just how grateful he was that Leo would do this for him. He moved to sit up. “It’s already pretty late, and I said I’d help with the roofing, so I should just take a bit of ambrosia and get on that. With how much it rained last night-”

The world tilted horribly, and if it hadn’t been for Leo reaching out to steady him, Jason was pretty sure he would’ve toppled sideways off the bed.

“Sometimes I know exactly why you’re friends with Nico.” Will may have been terribly blurry, but Jason could still tell he had one hand pressed to his forehead in annoyance. “Ambrosia is for missions and emergencies. You not wanting to let yourself rest is not an emergency. I can give you a bit to help manage the symptoms, but you still need to take a few days off and give your body a break. You’re exhausted. The ambrosia won’t fix that.”

“I can still do this,” Jason insisted, trying to fight the growing panic in his chest. He had to earn his place here. He had to contribute. He’d known since he was a young child that showing weakness was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make. “I need to do this.”

He moved towards the edge of the bed, vertigo be damned, and it took a tremendous effort to untangle himself from the blankets. For a moment he thought his glasses were fogging up at the edges—then he remembered he’d left his glasses in the Zeus cabin yesterday. The thing going foggy was his eyesight.

It didn’t matter. He needed to get up.

Before he could try, his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around him from the side.

“Hey, Superman, that’s enough.” Leo didn’t sound like this a lot—strict and decisive and genuinely a little mad. It made Jason stop in his tracks. “Camp won’t fall apart if you don’t work yourself half to death for a few days. I’ve been dead, okay? It’s seriously overrated, trust me.”

“But-”

“Jase, look at me. Breathe. You’re okay.” Leo’s voice had softened. One arm was still wrapped around Jason. The other had moved up to his head, fingers combing through his damp hair. “Stop being an idiot and don’t force your amputee boyfriend to figure out how to scrape you off the floor after you inevitably faint and hit your head, yeah?”

Leo looked terribly worried, and Jason knew he was actively making it worse. It made him feel awful.

After another moment of hesitation, he allowed himself to collapse against his boyfriend, exhausted and dizzy and with a horrible ache in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Leo exhaled audibly into his hair.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you’d get sick on purpose just to make me worry. That was such a dick move, dude,” he said sarcastically, then pressed a kiss to Jason’s head. “Lie back down, please?”

A part of Jason was still protesting, but he felt incredibly off and it was impossible to tell Leo “no” when he looked at him like that.

He let himself sink back onto the mattress, which at least made the room stop spinning.

“Happy now?”

“Yeah, yeah, gold star for not being a complete dumbass.” Jason could hear the smile in his voice. “Do you want a sticker or something?”

“Can you just put your hand back in my hair? That felt really nice.”

“Still here by the way,” Will said awkwardly, and Jason could feel his cheeks growing even warmer because he actually had forgotten about Will. “Doesn’t look like I’m needed anymore, though. I’ll go grab some meds.” He turned to Leo. “Make sure Jason drinks enough water and gets some sleep and he should be fine.”

“Oh, I’ll pester him as much as necessary, don’t worry. You know how annoying I can get.” Leo grinned. “Thanks for the help.”

“If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

~~~

The bits of ambrosia Jason got still tasted like Leo’s tacos, and like Will had warned, they didn’t magically fix everything.

“If I give you any more, you’ll just try to help and hurt yourself, and then we’ll end up right back here.”

That seemed like a fair enough point, but Jason still didn’t like it. It was hard to convince his brain it was actually okay to let himself rest. When you’d learnt at two years old that showing weakness would get you killed, telling yourself it was fine and safe and nothing bad would happen to you in this specific instance and actually believing that was hard. Hell, his last stab wound had helpfully sorted itself out when he’d recklessly thrown himself into battle despite feeling like death. Keeping himself up and running was safe. This did not feel safe.

And sure, there was a protocol for handling illness and injuries at Camp Jupiter that usually included mandated rest periods. But when everyone looked up to you, expecting you to be the leader, it was hard to figure out where to draw the line. At which point was he objectively bad enough to neglect his duties?

As long as he could stand upright, it was probably fine. When he couldn’t, he’d just nibble on an ambrosia cube until he could. When that didn’t work, he was probably dead and no longer needed to worry about it.

Right now, he wasn’t dead or even dying, and so it didn't feel like a reasonable excuse to neglect his duties for something as stupid as staying in bed and doing nothing—even with Leo there to pester him and make jokes and offer him home-cooked meals that could be warmed up at a flick of his wrist.

It didn’t feel real to Jason that he was just allowed to have this.

If nothing else, since he’d taken the ambrosia he could at least sit up without feeling like he was about to topple off the bed, which meant Leo was currently pestering him into finishing his glass of water.

Jason was only half-listening, his mind continuously wandering back to all the things he should be doing instead of this.

“I can hear you thinking, Superman. It’s loud and very annoying.” Leo ruffled his hair. “Talk to me? We did say we’d give it a shot, but we’re both still kind of garbage at it.”

“I really feel like I should be up and helping,” Jason sighed. He was glad to be able to manage a full sentence without bursting into another coughing fit, but talking still hurt. “At least check on the temples to make sure nothing got damaged last night.”

“Nope. Wrong answer. Immediately disqualified.” Leo made a noise that was obviously supposed to resemble the sound of an incorrect buzzer on a quiz show, though it sounded like someone had kicked the poor buzzer down the stairs instead of pressing it. “The only thing you’re supposed to be doing right now is resting, and you’re doing a terrible job. You’ve basically been non-stop doing things since we finished dealing with Gaia. The temples, now this project… I know I’m one to talk, but you need a vacation or something.” Leo smirked. “I hear Greece is really nice this time of year.”

“Oh yeah, I’d love to spend all of our first vacation as a couple trying not to get killed.”

“You say that like trying not to get killed isn’t the foundation of this relationship,” Leo teased him. “But Greece or otherwise, you’re not talking yourself out of this vacation. Take it from the resident expert on running: you’ve got a tendency to keep yourself running when you shouldn’t, and you really need to stop.”

“Didn’t you tell me you were an expert at sticking around at one point?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Leo said, laughing, like it was absurd that that moment had meant enough to Jason for him to remember it. Like Jason hadn’t built his life around the fact that his mom had promised to come back and left him instead. Like Leo, who had been runningand running and running for most of his life, hadn’t seen the fear in his eyes and chosen to stay.

“Of course I remember,” Jason said softly.

Leo gulped, clearly emotional, but then he immediately shifted back into his joke default.

“Damn it. Should have known you keep a folder of quotes to throw back at me at the right moment. You’re exactly the type of nerd who has folders on everything.” He shook his head. “To answer your question: I’ve got layers, babe. I have to keep you on your toes somehow.”

“I thought the point of this was to get me to rest? Isn’t that the opposite of keeping me on my toes?”

“You’re lucky I like you as much as I do.” Leo rolled his eyes, but then he smiled at Jason. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: I was trying to be supportive and also full of shit. I’m getting better at the sticking around thing, though. You can blame yourself and Piper for that one. Fourteen year old Leo would be quaking in his boots.”

It was more sincere than Leo usually was, and Jason really did feel lucky.

“Fourteen year old me would also be pretty shocked if he could see me now,” Jason admitted quietly. “He never slept past six am. He was also never this happy.”

“Six am?” Leo’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Is that standard for Camp Jupiter? Gods, no wonder Reyna is always so cranky.”

Jason laughed, which rapidly dissolved into another coughing fit. Laughing was still out, then. That was really unfortunate considering his boyfriend was right there.

“I think you’d like Reyna if you gave her an actual shot. There’s a reason we were best friends for years.” Their relationship had never quite gone back to what it had been before the whole memory wipe kidnapping incident, but Jason was back to being friends with Reyna, and he was glad for that. “Are you still scared of her?”

“Not as much. Piper’s trying exposure therapy. The results are so-so, but at least I don’t think she wants to kill me anymore,” Leo joked. Then he shoved the half-full glass of water back into Jason’s face. “Speaking of ways to prevent death: I’m supposed to keep you from getting dehydrated. Bottoms up!”

Jason sighed, but his throat still hurt, even if it did feel a little less sandpapered than before, and the water helped.

What it didn’t help with was the exhaustion—this ridiculous, inconvenient feeling of wanting to just curl up against Leo and let himself go unconscious. He may have been significantly less dizzy, but he still went between random flashes of feeling too warm and too cold and sometimes both at once.

“It’s fine if you want to go back to sleep, you know,” Leo said like he’d read his mind—or, more likely, Jason’s bone-deep exhaustion was just written all over his face. He took the empty glass and placed it back down on the bedside table. “I may be terrible at going to bed at reasonable hours, and sleep gets a general 5/10 from me because of all the nightmares, but unfortunately, it is important, especially when you’re sick. I don’t mind just sitting with you for a while.”

“If you’re staying with me, we should at least do something together,” Jason protested. “This isn’t exactly fun for you. I don’t want to just sleep and waste a whole bunch of your time.”

“You’re overestimating your influence, Superman. I have ADHD. I can waste my own time just fine without your help.” Leo smiled down at him, running his hand through Jason’s hair again. Jason closed his eyes and leaned into the movement. “Besides, we both know I’m the fun one in this relationship. Your job is more, like, mother henning so I occasionally go to bed before two am and actually remember to eat lunch instead of just disappearing down the project void for three days.”

“Shut up,” Jason laughed, which rapidly turned into another coughing fit. Gods, usually he loved how much Leo made him laugh, but it was a little inconvenient right now.

“See? Clearly, I’m the fun one. Now stop being ridiculous and just go back to sleep.”

Jason wanted to protest again, but his thoughts were turning to mush. His head was on Leo’s lap, and Leo was so, so warm that anything coherent he tried to grasp at drifted away before he could form even half a sentence. That just felt like cheating on Leo’s part.

Being sick still didn’t feel safe to Jason. This whole situation of him letting himself rest didn’t feel safe or right or like something he should be allowed to do.

But he knew so instinctively that Leo would never let anything happen to him that it was hard to feel anything but safe with him. With Leo there, Jason always felt like everything was going to be alright.

————————————————————————

Leo was pretty sure he was failing as a boyfriend.

The thing was, Leo was kind of garbage at taking care of people. He knew that wasn’t entirely his fault—no one had properly taken care of him when he was sick since he was eight years old, and just crawling under the bedsheets hoping his foster parents didn’t realize he was sick or finding himself a slightly less drafty bridge to sleep under weren’t exactly great precedents to base your care for someone else on.

But knowing that didn’t help. Jason was great with stuff like this. He knew how to calm Leo down when he was freaking out, made him cocoa in the middle of the night and had made sure Leo didn’t go stir-crazy when he’d been stuck in the infirmary for more than a week after the Gaia fight. That Leo was fucking terrible at it and he didn’t feel like he could properly help Jason in return made him feel like shit.

After his boyfriend had dozed off the night before, Leo had realized very quickly that he absolutely should have dragged him to the infirmary—or at least he should have broken in and stolen a few ambrosia cubes. Leo hadn’t really slept much. Jason had spent the whole night sweating and shivering against him, coughing so badly that Leo had been worried one of his lungs might come up, but he hadn’t been able to wake Jason when he tried, and physically hadn’t been able to leave the bed until sometime this morning. Every time he’d tried to pull his arm away from Jason’s chest, Jason had made a half-asleep whining noise and pulled it back, until eventually, he’d turned onto his back and wrapped fully around Leo, pinning him in place like a misbehaving pup.

It would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so inconvenient.

Austin had been the only Apollo cabin member up when Leo had gotten there, and Leo hadbothered him into checking on Jason, but Austin’s powers were more concentrated in the musical than the healing range. He’d mainly concluded that Jason wouldn’t die and advised Leo to let him sleep for a while longer and ask Will to check in later if it didn’t get better.

Leo had then proceeded to waste most of the morning trying to figure out how to cheer Jason up.

He’d gotten a whole bunch of unhelpful advice from his friends, both in-person and via Iris Message. Reyna had said she liked to be left alone, and had absolutely no advice to offer in regards to what Jason usually did or needed when he was sick. She actually couldn’t remember him ever being sick in all the time she’d known him, which said some concerning things about the amount of off time he usually allowed himself to take.

Piper had said her dad used to tell her stories to make her feel better when she’d been little, which would have been helpful if Jason had been five. She’d also confirmed Jason was a terrible patient, which, considering he’d tossed himself into the ocean with a life-threatening stab wound at one point, didn’t take a genius to figure out.

Because Piper was just like that, she’d pointed out that Leo wasn’t much better, which, while not technically untrue, wasn’t exactly helpful advice, either.

Annabeth had said she didn’t get sick, which Percy side-eyed her for, and then she’d admitted she just liked knowing someone was there. Doing what, exactly? Who knew.

Percy was the only one who’d said something Leo could actually use: that his mom usually cooked something he liked to cheer him up.

Leo could do cooking.

So, as per Austin’s expert advice, he’d let Jason sleep, and after breakfast, he’d gotten to work in the kitchen.

Leo liked being in the kitchen of the big house, usually. Cooking relaxed him.

But he hadn’t done a whole lot of it since he’d lost his leg, and navigating the kitchen with his crutches had turned out to be a bigger issue than he’d expected. Carrying things around was fine if they were in closed boxes or bags, but carrying a mug with liquid? Yeah, nope, not happening.

But, after some mishaps, he’d found workarounds. He’d gone completely overboard because he wasn’t sure what Jason would actually feel like eating. It wasn’t like he didn’t know some of the things Jason liked, but none of the ones that came to mind exactly screamed sick person comfort foods to Leo.

He’d made a cup of that terrible herbal tea Jason liked for some reason, and a whole bunch of small things like cut fruits and dry toast. Leo had even tried to recreate the chicken pozole he remembered his own mom had sometimes made when he wasn’t feeling well. The memory made his heart clench in his chest, but he felt like he had to at least try.

There hadn’t been any major disasters during the actual cooking process. The main problem came after, when Leo realized he hadn’t really thought through how he’d get the food back to the Hephaestus cabin. Carrying a tray with crutches was even less possible than carrying around mugs filled with liquid.

So, well, Leo had chosen to just not use the crutches. He’d decided it was probably fine as long as he was careful. He could mostly walk around without crutches okay.

Admittedly, most of that walking had been without carrying anything heavy and with both Will and a wall readily available in case he needed to steady himself. And sure, they didn’t do these types of exercises for more than a few minutes at a time because Leo’s sense of balance was still shit. But he’d thought he could do this.

Will rushing up to him a few steps out of the building had been the only reason Leo and everything he was carrying hadn’t ended up all over the lawn.

“Leo, we talked about this,” Will had chided him, taking over carrying the tray.

He’d spent the whole walk to the cabin trying to talk Leo through recovery timelines, which Leo had tuned out after the second sentence.

Leo knew that stuff. He was painfully aware of the fact that it usually took over six months, sometimes up to a year, to be able to walk without crutches after an amputation. They’d talked through this in detail several times.

That didn’t mean he was thrilled about this fact.

Sure, Leo was making decent progress. And he was trying to be patient with himself.

But it had been months at this point, and he’d never been a particularly patient person, and that he was doing better didn’t mean he didn’t have days like today when he really wanted to hurl his crutches at a wall.

The other issue he was currently having was that his left leg hurt.

Leo was pretty sure he knew the cause of this—Will had told him he was supposed to regularly take the prosthesis off and check if the skin underneath was getting irritated, and also give his stump breaks throughout the day.

The thing was, Leo wasn’t great about this. Partially, this was because he got hyperfocused a lot when he was working on his little projects and he just forgot. Partially, this was also because he’d had two legs for sixteen years of his life, and even after three and a half months in this new situation, he still didn’t always remember that this wasn’t the case anymore. That part felt fucking idiotic, because most of the time he obviously did know and was unable to forget if he tried, but sometimes when he was especially sleep-deprived or intensely focused on something else, his brain just blocked out this particular part of reality. Having his prosthesis on when he worked late significantly reduced the risk of him trying to get up to fetch a tool and epically belly-flopping onto the floor of the forge in the process.

…okay, that one had been a one time occurrence and very early on, but still. Never again.

Nyssa and Jake hadn’t been weird about it—Nyssa had helped him sit up while Jake had gone to fetch Will, and both of them had the decency to never bring it up again. Leo still wanted to burn a hole into the floor from sheer embarrassment whenever he thought of it.

So, yeah, staying up as late as he had and keeping the prosthesis on the whole time, Leo was pretty sure he’d irritated the shit out of his stump, in ways his evening routine hadn’t been able to fix. Again.

He should have probably gone to Will or Kayla about this. At the very least, he should have taken his prosthetic leg off and iced the painful spots a little. If it had been any other day, he probably would have.

He didn’t.

Instead, he let Jason nap on his lap for two hours, which surprisingly did not help his leg pain.

Leo should have been better about this, especially when Will had literally just given him a lecture about not pushing himself. But the only semi-useful thing Leo had managed to do so far was make Jason food, which Jason hadn’t even eaten because he wasn’t feeling well.

So, yeah, fucking incredible work in the boyfriend department, Valdez.

The least he could do was let Jason sleep in a position he was obviously comfortable in, even if it was objectively only comfortable for one of them.

Aside from the pain, Leo didn’t really mind this situation very much. He spent an embarrassing amount of time just watching his boyfriend sleep like a complete weirdo.

Despite the fact that Jason was still sweating and shivering under the blanket, and despite the fact that every time he coughed it was obvious that it hurt, he looked… almost peaceful.

Jason wasn’t good at looking peaceful. Even asleep, it always seemed like he was one command away from jumping to his feet with his sword drawn. Almost was the closest he ever got.

And almost peaceful Jason was an image Leo really struggled to tear himself away from. It made him yearn for a future where maybe he’d get Jason all the way to actually peaceful, now that the end of the world wasn’t permanently hanging over their heads anymore. Leo imagined the machine shop he wanted, and getting to come home every night to a version of Jason that laughed easily and no longer remembered how to stand at attention.

Gods, Leo hadn’t even thought it possible to be this utterly gone for another person. A year ago, he hadn’t even thought he’d ever consider a place home again. Yet, here he was, just about a month into this relationship, thinking about living together. Talk about fucking u-hauling.

~~~

By the time Jason woke up, Leo had thankfully torn himself out of the kind of ridiculous fairytale futures that had always been reserved for other people and was fiddling with one of his little projects—an upgraded eye for Festus with a few extra sensors his current ones didn’t have.

Admittedly, Leo looking down at Jason might have been a slightly less disconcerting sight to wake up to than the giant metal eye that was currently staring down at him.

Jason yelped, and Leo was barely quick enough to move the large metal orb out of range before his boyfriend punched the spot of empty air where it had just been, nearly socking Leo on the jaw in the process.

“Whoa. Down, boy. No need to give me or Festus a black eye.” Leo dropped the eye on the floor next to the bed, then held his hands up defensively for extra effect. “This is mostly celestial bronze, anyway, so it’s not like you could do any real damage with your fists. It’s bad enough that you’re sick, we do not need to add broken fingers to the equation.”

Jason looked extremely startled. “Sorry. Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I thought- You okay?”

“You didn’t even actually hit me. Your uppercut needs work.” Leo gently flicked his boyfriend in the head. “Anyway, enough about me. How are you feeling?”

“A little better, I think.” This was followed immediately by another coughing fit. Leo raised an eyebrow.

“You are the worst liar I know.” He ruffled Jason’s hair, since he seemed to really be enjoying that today. Note for future reference: sick Jason was like a dog that enjoyed getting petted. “You need anything?”

“Maybe water?” Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. Just if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Superman, I cooked for you for more than an hour this morning. I’ll survive a three second walk to the bathroom and back to fill up your cup.” Leo nudged him. “Besides, I’ve got a leg and a half that are super asleep right now. It’ll be nice to get up and stretch them for a bit.”

~~~

Despite this bold statement on Leo’s part, the short walk in question turned into a total disaster.

Yeah, he could have made it to the bathroom and back without his crutches under most circumstances. He’d done that before.

But currently, his stupid stump was sore and hurt with every step and it turned out he could not manage.

He had to pause in the bathroom, the cup clenched in trembling fingers, which would have been embarrassing enough. But then it turned out he couldn’t make the way back at all.

The main issue wasn’t that the pain was so intense he couldn’t bear it—if it had been anything that serious, even Leo probably wouldn’t have been this much of a moron about it. The issue was that the fact that his steps stung kept throwing him off, and made Leo’s usually mediocre balance that Will had correctly pointed out they were still working on significantly worse.

Leo only made it about three quarters of the way back to his bed before he misstepped and fell, which was really just how this day was going. The main thoughts he had as he fell were annoyance and frustration directed at himself, as well as a distant relief that he’d had the presence of mind to take the plastic cup because at least that wouldn’t splinter.

Leo didn’t hit the floor. He was stopped mid-fall by first a strong gust of wind and then a pair of warm arms.

Jason shouldn’t have been out of bed. He definitely shouldn’t have been using his powers. In the end, Jason’s immensely stupid rescue attempt just made them both crumple to the floor, right into the puddle of spilled water, though at a much slower speed than the one Leo had originally been going for.

“Are you okay?”

Leo wanted to say something funny, but he looked at his exhausted boyfriend who’d just wasted a bunch of his energy preventing him from getting hurt and just kind of started to cry.

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Can I help?” Jason asked again, placing his hands on Leo’s shoulders. He sounded really alarmed, which just made Leo feel worse.

“I’m sorry I’m such garbage at this,” Leo sniffled. “You’re always so good with this stuff, but I can’t figure out how to help, and between my stupid crutches and my stupid leg hurting I can’t- I’m sorry I’ve been so useless.”

“Leo, what the hell are you talking about?” Jason looked something between concerned and seriously confused.

“I’m- my whole thing is that I know how to fix machines. But people? I don’t- I never know how to help when it comes to people. You’re not like Festus. I can’t just switch out your gears to make you feel better. I don’t know what I can do to make you feel better. What kind of awful boyfriend-”

“Stop.” Jason looked directly at him, eyes stormy. “You’ve been amazing. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will not allow you to talk about yourself like this.”

“But-”

“No. Listen to me. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gone to help, and Will’s right, I probably would have ended up hurt. Most likely, I wouldn’t even have been upset about it, because that’s what I was raised to do. You said it yourself: I’m the prince of the universe. I’m supposed to take charge and get things done. It doesn’t matter if that doesn’t make me happy or if it isn’t good for me. That’s just who I have to be.” Jason’s voice cracked. “Everyone always expects me to be able to handle anything. But I’m not. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like it’s okay that I’m not.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Leo could manage as Jason pulled him to his chest, holding him so gently that he could barely remember how to breathe.

And then they were both crying, adding to the stupid water puddle they were sitting in. They probably looked ridiculous. Leo didn’t care. Being wrapped in Jason’s arms like this immediately made him feel better.

“I can count the amount of times someone’s taken care of me on one hand, and that’s never involved another person sitting with me for hours and stroking my hair and cooking for me before. I almost burst into tears over a plate of cut fruit earlier,” Jason admitted quietly, gently nuzzling Leo’s neck. Gods, he still felt awfully warm. “But you don’t need to spend all day fussing, especially if you don’t feel great. It’s so nice to just have you here. I’ve been really anxious lately, and I just- all I ever wanted was for someone to stay.”

“Oh,” Leo repeated intelligently, his own voice cracking too. Damn it, that meant he’d have to tell Annabeth he should have taken her advice. She’d never let him live that down. “I can do that. I can stay.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason sniffled. “But I don’t want you hurting yourself to help me, okay?”

“Says the guy who just almost made himself faint trying to catch me,” Leo commented, grimacing. “I hate to say it, but Piper was right when she said sometimes we’re the exact same brand of idiot. Let’s both try to work on that, yeah?”

Jason sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”

This left them with the issue of how to get back off the floor.

~~~

In the end, Piper rescued them, appearing out of thin air like Leo had fucking summoned her the second he’d admitted she was right.

She collected both of them off the floor, went to get Will, and also brought some of the self-refilling cups from lunch, which… yeah, Leo really should have thought of that.

“You seem to have food covered for now,” she said, gesturing towards the tray of still untouched breakfast items on the bedside table.

Whether he liked it or not, Leo got his second Will Solace lecture of the day, this time with strict orders to rest and let his stump breathe for a while. He didn’t mind that too much—he’d felt absolutely zero desire to put the prosthesis back on since he’d finally taken it off.

Besides, being put on bed rest with Jason really wasn’t much of a punishment, aside from the fact that even sick, Jason still wouldn’t stop with his stupid mother henning.

“You literally said that was part of my boyfriend job description like three hours ago. You do not get to complain about it now,” Jason teased him, shoving Leo’s cup and another piece of toast in his direction.

Yeah, Leo really needed to find that folder of inconvenient quotes that could be used against him and burn it.

Jason was still garbage at letting himself rest, but it seemed to be easier for him now that he felt like he was doing something helpful—even if that something helpful was just bothering his boyfriend. Leo would have to write that down for future reference.

They shared the food Leo had made, and they talked. Jason told him why he’d been so anxious while Leo petted his head and offered to fist-fight Rachel the next time she tried to speak a prophecy. Leo finally went into some of his post-amputation problems, including but not limited to his occasional desire to hurl his crutches at the wall.

“Will probably has some old broken crutches you could actually throw. If you think that’d help, I’m sure he’d let you.”

“I’ll ask, but I’ll definitely tell him it was your idea.” Leo chuckled. “If Will keeps having to put up with us I think he’s gonna need a vacation too.”

“Maybe someone should tell him to just take a couple of days off with his boyfriend. This is actually really nice.” Jason didn’t kiss him, because he was a buzzkill and refused to get him sick, but he looked at Leo with such unbridled fondness that it was clear he wanted to. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“If you’re trying to quote Star Wars to me, you’re doing it wrong,” Leo joked, putting his head on Jason’s shoulder. “But yeah, I do know that. Love you, too.”

And well, spending the next few days like this, sharing meals and curled up next to each other watching movies and taking naps didn’t sound so bad, even if it did require Leo to be a little more honest about how he was feeling than usual.

He still wasn’t convinced they were lucky enough to have any kind of fairytale future, but currently the present wasn’t looking half bad.

———————

Some notes:

-Title is from Time by Gretta Ray. Shoutout to my friend Mal for putting up with me in the process of this fic, he’s never read the books and literally doesn’t even know who these people are.

Continuation of the point I made in Late Night Cocoa about Leo and Jason both being shit at voicing it when something is wrong with them! Jason’s been in charge for so long that not being okay has simply never felt like an option. Leo still isn’t entirely used to having people who care regardless of whether he’s currently being useful.

Being in a relationship does not magically fix all your issues! But they know each other and know how to lift each other up and it does really help.

Leo will not let Jason play the hero. Jason will not allow Leo to talk badly about himself ever. They’re just good for each other, full stop, and I love that for them.

Side note: I cannot believe I wrote a 10k established relationship fic and didn’t let them kiss on the lips once. That feels incredibly mean of me. I feel like now I need to write a date fic of some kind specifically to make it up to them, lol

This was my first time properly attempting Jason POV which was kind of scary but I think I ended up doing alright?

Anyway, thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are always super, super appreciated.

@poppitron360

#valgrace #jason grace #leo valdez #hoo #heroes of olympus #leo x jason #jason x leo #my writing #heroes of Olympus fanfic #valgrace fanfic #hoo fanfic #pjo Leo #pjo Jason #fate and other technicalities #long post

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izpira-se-zlato · 11 months ago

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Bootleg Hojan Merch

I know Nace shared part of the story in an interview a couple days ago, but I was planning on doing a write-up before I knew that, so here you go 😂 Also contains the continuation of the saga in Finland :D

Putting this under a cut because it's gonna be a bit of a read (plus a few more pictures). Yeah, I hope no one here is surprised that I suck at keeping things short 😂

So I have done a fair bit of clownery this year, and the most recent bit (before the shirt project) was attending two of the Polish gigs, Wrocław and Poznań.

I was wearing my Cha Cha Cha shirt to the Poznań gig, and when taking pictures with Bojan and Nace after the show, I opened my jacket so the shirt was visible. When stepping back after the pic, Nace spied the shirt and was kinda excited about seeing Käärijä merch – though he prefers the Häärijä merch, as he told us, because he's a "big fan" (his words, not mine).

So back at the hotel, I told @braveheart1418, "God, I'm so tempted to try to procure an actual Häärijä shirt. Tell me that's a stupid idea." Of course she did no such thing and so we looked into how much it would cost (too much) and how long it would take (too long), and so I was like, "bummer. And I'm not comfortable making bootleg official merch. Although, omg – it would be hilarious of we did Hojan merch!"

And the longer I thought about it, the more I fell in love with the idea. Again, I told friends, "tell me that would be a stupid idea," and again, they were filthy enablers, and so I started looking into the matter semi-seriously once I was back home (that was Wednesday the 22nd, so almost exactly a week before I left on a business trip leading into a stay at my parents' place leading into the gig).

The first thought was to get a big HOJAN in the Häärijä lettering on foil to iron onto a black shirt, though @braveheart1418 had commented that the design with a picture Häärijä on is much more memorable. That was a very valid point, except that there were no Hojan pics in suitable resolution that were in the right pose.

Thus, things I needed to solve:

get a plotter to cut out "Hojan" for the chest -> my mom said my cousin had a friend with a plotter. Contact was established

get a picture similar to the official merch of Hojan -> I reached out to Dean, who was absolutely lovely and set me up with a picture I could use

clip Hojan from the picture -> I had @submariini as well as another dear friend help me there because they are both much better at photoshop than me and were kind enough to offer their help, and decided to add the yellow border because the best picture Dean had sent me was black & white

get transfer paper -> easy: amazon (loathe as I am to use it)

find a copy shop to print Hojan for me -> tricky bc I got Inkjet-Printer transfer paper and most copy shops have laserjets, if they allow using your own paper at all -> I got laserjet transfer paper and once again had my cousin come to the rescue and helped me print it :D

find t-shirts in the right sizes -> I solved this by eyeballing and taking pics of my dad in the various sizes to check with @submariini. While nerve-wrecking, I am astonished just how well the sizing worked out in the end!

Despite the limited time (limited further by me getting sick Monday/Tuesday before my business trip), it all came together beautifully: I did a test-print Friday evening and picked up the foil cuts, went shirt shopping with my parents on Saturday (shout out to them for letting their adult kid drag them through three different clothes stores and especially to my dad for gamely trying on half a dozen shirts and waiting while I yelled at ed about which to take 😂), finished the test shirt (mine) that evening and adjusted the colours on the outline to be closer to the foil, printed three more copies of Hojan Sunday morning, and got them ready just in time for leaving for the gig!

Which was yet again nerve-wrecking because of the unprecedented amounts of snow happening in Bavaria, but it stood no chance against our determination!

Unfortunately, the snow situation meant that JO couldn't come out after the show, so I passed the shirt to Nace during it and received a pick in return, which made me bluescreen as I hadn't expected an exchange 😂 He put the shirt down without having looked at it, which was a bit unfortunate because I would have loved to have seen his reaction, but it was still a pretty cool moment.

They did get a lot of gifts this close to St. Nikolaus (which is also celebrated in Germany, or at least was in my youth), most of which they left on the stage for the crew to gather up, so I bluescreened even worse when Nace bee-lined over to me as they came back on stage for the SSOL-encore to thank me again for the shirt – others told me later he'd taken it backstage after Carpe Diem with him, which I'd missed 😅

After the show, I met @mogoce-nocoj and ended up talking to her for quite a while outside the venue because neither of us wanted to split off into different directions, and so it wasn't until we were on our way back to @braveheart1418's hotel room (finally accepting that we wouldn't manage to say goodbye quite so soon and might as well talk somewhere warm 😅) that I saw that Bojan had posted the story to his Instagram 😂. Let me just say that it was very fortunate we were still out-doors and not near normal flats, because I don't think I was quiet when I saw 😂

I actually ended up making four shirts including my trial one – one for Nace, one for Häärijä himself because it felt fitting, and one for @submariini because he's such a Häärijä fan :D

The latter two, I took with me to Rovaniemi (which was ed's fault, because (and I quote), "come to Rollo! It'll be fun!"), where a bunch of friends and I met up for a birthday party slash Käärijä gig (over 20 clowns in one place, it was amazing, 10/10 would do again (genuinely)). The weather and means of transport tried to keep us apart (train strikes and ice rains on my end, though I still had better luck than Joker Out), but we actually all made it and by now all made it back again, too :D

As I mentioned in a different post, I actually managed to hand over the shirt to Häärijä before the gig, and he told me he would wear it on stage, which he did! I also got a picture with him, ed, and me all in our shirts, which was also pretty great :D

So, yeah! The Process™ of project 1.

Thank you so so much to everyone who helped and encouraged me along the way -- my parents and my cousin, the gift to our fandom that is Dean Grainger (none of whom will hopefully ever read this specific post), @braveheart1418, @submariini, @alephai, my dearest friend K who's been an enabler for so so many shenanigans, and xia!bf for bearing with my insanity (both where the shirts are concerned and the general Käärijä/JO brainrot) and helping me make this project a reality 💛

#käärijä #häärijä #hojan #hojan merch #project 1 #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #nace jordan #joker out #joker out nordic tour #jo nordic tour #jo nordic tour 2023 #fucking Rovaniemi

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year ago

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ONG i neeeeed more brothers best friend seokjin you write him so well all awkward and flustered but then… not. Would you ever continue that Drabble or give us a prequel?

ah, thank you! <3

ask and ye shall receive. sorry it took me so long, but here's that time they fucked in the bathroom.

(read the original drabble here.)

want it anyway

pairing: seokjin x f. reader genre: brother's best friend au; smut warnings: reader is a brat again & is wearing a dress, spanking, one corpse joke, brief protected sex, nonstop bickering, unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1.2k

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Seokjin only knows you’re rolling your eyes from your reflection in the mirror. Maybe Seokjin only knows a lot of things in that kind of way, because you’ve been over this a hundred times and it’s getting a little old. You’re not even a couple, but you’re now able to finish his sentences, already know what he’s going to say.

You roll your eyes again.

This earns you a swat on the ass. Despite the amount of noise on the other side of the door, it’s loud in the cramped space of your brother’s bathroom, and Seokjin immediately pales, goes stock-still like he’s at war and his life depends on going unnoticed. You think he’d abandon you to press his ear against the door, but he keeps his hand against your bare skin, grips tighter when one second passes and then two.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he says. If it wouldn’t get you spanked again, you’d roll your eyes for a third time. Talk about stating the obvious.

“Really?” you deadpan. “Would’ve thought we had all the time in the world to fuck in my brother’s bathroom.”

He reaches around, gently tugs at your bottom lip. “Either put this mouth to good use or keep it quiet. No more bratty comments.”

“One might argue the bratty comments are putting it to good use.”

“Not me. Bend over.”

“I am—”

“More, then. Can you at least pretend to be helpful?”

Of course you can, but you’re not going to. Not with all the grief Seokjin had caused you up to this point: all the looks across the room, the way he’d choked and had to excuse himself after your brother had seated you two together at dinner and you’d rubbed his thigh just as the meal was winding down, the panicked text he’d sent from the bathroom saying his boner wouldn’t go away, to which you’d replied he was far too old to call it a boner, to which Seokjin had sent back an eye-roll emoji and asked if you were going to come help him. Maybe later was your response.

“Later” wound up being twenty minutes. Long enough to clear the table and half-ass the dishes. Long enough for your brother and the rest of his friends to break out the beer and video games. Long enough for you to slip down the hallway unnoticed, knock on the door, roll your lips at the exasperated look on his face. Long enough for him to drag you inside and lock the door, pull the skirt of your dress up and over your ass.

Seokjin sighs, undoes his belt. Makes another face at how loud the metal clangs together. “Why are you like this? Do you honestly think you’d die if you weren’t a shithead for five minutes?”

“Who could say?” you fire back. “You wanna take that risk? Might end up real weird for you.”

“Ugh, why—”

“You’d have to explain to my brother why you’re in here with my corpse.”

There are a lot of reasons that, of all your brother’s friends, Seokjin was not a smart pick for the kind of mutually beneficial relationship the two of you have, but sometimes he’s the best. Because it’s as easy to rile him up as it is to fluster him. Because one second he’s huffing and complaining about your smart mouth, and the next he’s rolling a condom on, pulling your panties to the side, and pushing inside.

“Fuck.”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you, already overwhelmed at the stretch and the fullness. Could be Seokjin, with the way he’s rolling his hips and desperately trying to stay quiet; the way he whines a little every time his skin slaps against yours so he steps in closer, fucks in deeper, has to bury his face against the side of your neck to muffle his moan.

The proximity has you dangerously close. Has Seokjin’s cock pressing exactly where it needs to for your legs to tremble, knees threatening to give out. Lips still pressed against your neck, Seokjin smiles, asks if you’re close, if you’re gonna come undone for him.

All you can do is nod, and you do.

The sound Seokjin makes when he comes is nearly enough to pull another orgasm out of you.

There’s a brief moment of calm. Seokjin pulls out slowly, laughs a little—the huff of air feels nice on your heated skin. In the mirror, you watch as he hesitates: looks like he wants to kiss you. His lips had stayed pressed to your neck the entire time, and it only now feels strange that he hadn’t done it. Feels like you’ve been robbed of something, and you wonder if you should mention it. God knows you aren’t shy about asking for what you want, but Seokjin’s hesitancy has you second-guessing.

He doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he busies himself with tying off the condom. Crumbles up some toilet paper and cleans you off first, then himself. Fixes his clothes. Mumbles a shy, quiet excuse me and then he’s taking your place at the sink and splashing cold water on his face. When he surfaces, he still looks beautiful and not at all like he’d just fucked you right where he stands.

“Should I go first?” you ask. Normalcy feels weird. A little wrong.

Seokjin shakes his head. “No, I’ve been gone longer. Give me a couple minutes and come up with a story.”

You snort. “Probably won’t need to. They’re all so drunk they probably forgot we were even here to begin with.” Seokjin doesn’t look relieved. “Fine, go. I’ll figure it out.”

“Sorry—”

You wave him off. He still looks torn, but he turns to leave anyway, and it’s only when he goes to unlock the door and let himself out does he realize he’s still holding the tied-off condom and that torn look morphs into panic. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Huh? Just throw it away.”

“Your brother will see it!”

“Oh my god, who cares—”

“Should I just flush it down the toilet—”

“Are you insane? You won’t put it in the trash, but you’ll clog his plumbing?”

“Well, I don’t know! Can’t you just take it with you?”

“And do what with it?”

“I don’t know! Put it in your purse!”

“Ew—”

“Please!”

“No, Seokjin, that’s disgusting. Are you serious?”

“Please. Please! I’ll owe you one. I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t throw it away, it’s too risky.”

“Put it in your pocket, then!” He pulls a face. “Oh, so you’ll have me store it in my purse, but putting your own cum in your pocket is too much? You know what—”

You rifle through the drawers, sighing in relief when you find a box of pads. You pluck one from inside and open it, temporarily sticking the pad itself to the counter. With as unamused an expression as you can muster, you hold out your hand and wordlessly ask for the condom, which Seokjin hands over with trepidation. You place it in the wrapper and toss it in the trash.

“There. Can’t even tell.”

He points at the pad. “What are you gonna do with that?”

“You’re gonna stick it in your boxers and suffer. Consider it your favor repaid.”

Seokjin squawks in protest, but it dies on his tongue as soon as you pull the bathroom door open.

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #seokjin fanfic #bts imagines #seokjin imagine #work: 1kfm #jewel answers

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bobamilkk · 1 year ago

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TF2 HEADCANONS PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

I told myself I’d get these up one of these days👍 I finished this list at 4 am last night so none of this makes any sense and every word is more chaotic than the ones before it and no I’m not sorry y’all sighed up for this bs

Scout

-Can understand a good chunk of French but can’t speak more than a few simple words if that, has no clue how he understands it (Spy spoke a good amount of French around him as a baby or something idk)

-Can be just has hard to find as Spy-once you loose sight of him he’s impossible to find if he’s actually trying to stay hidden-Like father like son

-Can and will steal your food-this includes Heavy and Medic-He has no fear whatsoever and has been sent to respawn god knows how many fucking times because of this-And yet he still does it

-Loves scifi movies and comics and if you watch a movie with him half of it is him pointing out random trivia facts because he’s incapable of shutting the fuck up (this is also what happens when you watch a movie with me irl. My grandparents are sick and tired of it. Yes this is even more self projection what of it?)

-has mastered the younger sibling talent of fucking climbing people if it means getting something that’s held over his head. He also bites

Soldier

-it’s impossible to tell if he’s insulting you or complimenting you 90% of the time

-Has stabbed Scout’s hand to the table to prevent him from stealing food before and no one stopped him

-The team has movie nights once a week and Soldier always puts on the same inaccurate WW2 documentary he made himself when it’s his turn to pick-he used to put on 10 hours of the American National Anthem but someone (read: The rest of the team working together) lost (read: Violently destroyed) the tape after the third time

-I said he was from Missouri once in a rp cuz my rp friend and I are both from different parts of Missouri so that’s my hc now

Pyro

-I always hc him as Irish for some reason idk why

-Can casually pick up every merc except for Heavy-He struggles a bit with Medic because that man is pure muscle but they can indeed pick him up

-May or may not be a cannibal-it’s a little uncertain but either way they’re banned from the kitchen and cooking duty

-I’m a sucker for the hc that he does not like water whatsoever-Getting this man a bath is like trying to bathe a cat except somehow even more deadly

Demo

-This may be the impulsive sleep deprivation but my brain randomly went “What If he can see general ghosts because of his possessed eye socket, not just Eyelander or the scream fortress ghosts” so sometimes people walk in on him casually having a conversation with the air. Considering he’s made out with his own organs in his head, this is one of the less weird things they’ve walked in on him doing

-Surprisingly he’s the best with kids out of all 9 mercs, Heavy is a good runner up though and Spy’s not far behind but will never admit it

Heavy

-Accent gets thicker when he’s talking to people he cares about

-Was the one who suggested the movie nights in the first place

-Actually cleans up in the base unlike literally everyone else

Engie

-People don’t realize how unhinged this man is ok??? Anyways he’s a caffeine addict and has developed the habit of pulling way too many all nighters if it means getting work done (like me. It’s 4 am as I work on this list. Help)

-What’s a southern farm boy without a few dozen concerning stories about pushing cousins out of second story barn windows or near drowning fishing story? My cousins lived on a farm when we were kids and they scared the shit out of me I swear there was a new broken bone every summer

-probably once had a sleep deprived mental breakdown on his workshop floor because the sweet tea one of the mercs made him wasn’t sweet enough idk man I’m sleep deprived rn and could really use a southern style sweet tea

Medic

-Mann vs Machine hc that his hometown would rather deal with the robots than having Medic anywhere near them ever again. They want him GONE

-Sleeps like a fucking corpse-You can’t even tell he’s breathing unless you look closely. He even crosses his arms like a corpse

-Will take you graverobbing for a romantic date-gotta get experiment canvases somehow he’s running out of room on the other mercs without them just dropping dead from it all

Sniper

-The opposite of a morning person, but his internal clock won’t let him sleep in ever. The suns up? He’s up! Someone help him

-Has befriended a wild owl and feeds it at night-The offense trio very violently helped him name it (They fist fought eachother over who’s name was better while Sniper spaced out thinking about random gator facts)

Spy

-An adrenaline junkie but will never ever admit it

-Spy can mimic voices to a near perfect even without his disguise kit-he however rarely uses this and instead simply mocks everyone instead because he finds it funny (“This is Scout! Rainbows make me cry!”)

-Wears a corset because I said so-It always matches perfectly with his outfit and underwear too-He feels SO bonita

Bonus since it’s Pride Month

-Scout is gay and so many levels deep in the closet it’s embarrassing-He’s also trans because I said so

-Soldier is trans, bi, and poly :) his list of wives consists of anyone and everyone /j

-Spy is bi and a cis man who wears dresses regularly he’s gnc af and I love that for him he’s my wife now

-Medic is gay and still legally married to his wife they’re mlm wlm solidarity married for tax benefits /j

-Pyro is trans, non-binary, and pan and uses he/they pronouns because I said so

-None of these men are straight ok

-Medic did both Scout and Soldier’s top surgery but both of them instead have overly extravagant extremely gorey stories on how they got their scars

#hi can you see my bias yet?#god I love them all #they’re the found family ever #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 hcs #tf2 headcanons #team fortress 2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 Engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy

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alwerakoo · 3 months ago

Text

wildfires and weeds

Tales of the TMNT Leo & Raph word count: 2k (aka: Raph does NOT get into a fight - the fic)

AO3

---

“You ran into a pole?”

“It was a basketball hoop,” Raph clarifies.

It probably doesn't make him look much better now that he thinks about it.

He shifts on the cot, the paper under him crinkling slightly. He winces at the sound. There's still a drumming headache, pulsing right behind his eyes, and a slight ring in his ears.

Mrs. O'Neil tilts her head, her tongue making a 'tsks' sound that reminds Raph of April in an almost unsettling way.

“Right.”

She has a right to be harsh, he supposes, after all the times he was sent right to her doorstep with a bloody face and bruised knuckles. Although, maybe she holds more of a grudge for all the people he sends her way.

Even if it's unfair.

Raph doesn't start fights. He doesn't.

Or at least – he doesn't when they're not Purple Dragons, or killer robots, or crazy mutants with an agenda, or any other thing that's trying to kill them at any given moment.

But he doesn't take shit from people either, which was a harsh and a very hands-on lesson some of his classmates had to learn. Not that any of his teachers ever appreciated his bright future in education.

Raph doesn't start fights. He finishes them.

But it's been a while since he got into a proper one – not since the principle snapped and dangled a suspension right above his head.

Or that's the reason he tells his brothers anyway.

“The teacher was right there,” he murmurs, a little defeated.

“So you just ran into a pole? And you're sure you don't need any glasses?” Mrs. O'Neil asks him again, eyebrow raised.

“I got distracted,” Raph says, face suddenly hot.

It's stupid, because he's not even lying about it. It's a half-truth at worst.

He did get distracted, and Mrs. O'Neil doesn't need to know that he was busy looking at a girl.

He's sure she's heard worse, but he grew up with three brothers and if there's one thing it taught him, it's that some secrets are better kept in his own head, and that 'safe spaces' are a very relative term.

And he would know – he's the one who never let Mikey forget about any of his cartoon-character crushes.

“If you say so.”

Raph bites down on his own words, swallowing down something bitter and petty.

She leaves him for a moment, rummaging through the cabinets in the other, bigger part of the office.

Raph pulls away the tissue he was holding up to his snout. His nose has mostly stopped bleeding, but there's still some leftover blood stuck under his fingernails. He picks at it, absentmindedly.

He takes the moment to fiddle with his pockets, fishing out his phone – now adorned with one more crack running down the display.

His fingers hover over their family group chat (the one without Dad and a lot of messages that would likely give him a heart attack), and his mind races for a way to phrase his current situation in a way that will result in the least amount of subsequent ridicule.

He mulls the words over in his head, like tough gum, till his whole mind feels sticky and tacky.

>>Got hurt in PE. Will prolly go home. At nurses rn

His fingers barely leave the display before his phone buzzes, lighting up with a new, private message. He's almost certain Donnie should be in class right now, but his brother's phone has been glued to the inside of his wrist since they were ten.

<<You got into a fight?

Raph's mouth thins, and he lets his phone go dark, staring back at his own, cracked reflection on the black screen. His fingers tighten, so hard that he feels a prickle of a glass shard in one of his fingers.

He blinks a few times, feelings his own stomach churn, and he realizes with a momentary delay that it's one of those moments, moments he keeps drilling over with the school counselor.

The counselor's office is one of the places Raph regularly visits nowadays. Or rather – gets trapped in twice a week after one trip to the principal’s office too many.

Personally, Raph thinks that Mr. Honeycutt is a proper dunce (he asked him to call him by his first name on their first meeting, which Raph still refuses to do, just to be a little more annoying). Too eager, bright-eyed and in love with his job for his liking.

He says a lot of things like 'radical' and 'groovy', which always make Raph snicker with cringe.

He also says things like 'anger issues' and 'trauma', which make Raph dig his nails into the chair and say things that would make any other adult gasp in sheer outrage, and then cry in the parking lot behind the school, where it stinks of old cigarettes and weed.

(It only makes Mr. Honeycutt write faster in his notepad.)

But some of the advice he gives isn't half as bad as his other stuff.

(Some of it makes him want to finish fights a little less.)

He takes a deep breath, letting his mind split in half, all of his thoughts spilling out into a mess of a pile.

Picking it apart is the hard part. He's not like Donnie, who works with the left side of his brain only, or Leo, who gets so easily tangled up within his own mind. Nor Mikey, who rarely seems to have any thoughts at all.

He unlocks his phone, rereading Donnie's text.

In the time he wasn't looking, his brother managed to follow it up with a swarm of emojis and question marks, and question mark emojis.

It's one thing, he realizes, for strangers, his classmates, or even Mrs. O'Neil to assume these things about him. Expected, even. To them, it never mattered why or how, just that he did.

It's another thing for it to be one of his brothers.

He knows Donnie had the right to assume. Maybe he'd do the same in his place, even. And he can appreciate that he texted him outside of the chat; that made it feel more like a question and less like a confrontation.

But there's something hurt inside his chest now, something that stings like a bitch and sounds suspiciously like: 'you can shape yourself however you want, but this outline will always be here'.

His fingers hover over the keyboard, searching for the right words to encompass the messy tangle of his thoughts, the 'you didn't really do anything wrong, but I'm still angry with you', the things he wishes were different.

He types out:

>>Go suck a dick.

Mrs. O'Neil shows up again, holding out an ice pack, and Raph quickly locks his phone. Not that she would try to ready any of it, at least judging by the thickness of her glasses.

“Hold that to your face,” she says. Raph takes it from her hand, sighing when the ice cools his stiff face. “I'll keep you in here for a few more minutes, just to be safe. You can go home then, I don't want you walking around the school looking like this.”

“Oh, wow, thanks,” he huffs, maybe a little too blunt.

Mrs. O'Neil nods, but doesn't get the chance to say anything more.

They both flinch when the door slams open, hitting the wall with a force that suddenly makes Raph realize why the wall paint around that part always seems to be chipping away.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Mrs. O'Neil straightens, her face suddenly tight and cold. “Were all of you raised in a barn?”

She always had that sort of clipped, no-nonsense energy about her.

April liked to complain about the trials and horrors of attending the same school her mother worked at. But she was always alright in Raph's book – especially since she let Leo and Donnie come into the office whenever they needed a quiet moment.

Mrs. O'Neil has a soft spot for his brothers, and as far as Raph is concerned, that was all she needed to earn his begrudging respect.

So now, when it's Leo's flushed face that peeks from around the corner, both her and Raph soften, just a little.

“I'm sorry,” Leo says, all frantic energy, but he's not looking at her. “Raph, are you okay?”

He's at his side in a second, his hands on Raph's shoulders, eyes scanning his face.

Raph blinks.

“Aren't you supposed to be in a class?” He asks.

He knows he should be, and he knows that Leo doesn't pull out his phone during lessons, because he's the least fun person Raph has ever met.

His brother meets his gaze, and he hesitates for a moment, like it takes a bit for his mind to fully take it all in, and Raph already knows what this is.

Leo's hands on his arms are shaky, his eyes unfocused, and his knee twitches, like he's always just a strain away from bolting.

“I was just checking the time,” he says, and his voice cracks. “Man, you know I can't read those big clocks.”

“... You can't?”

Leo doesn't answer. He puts his palms against Raph's cheek; his skin cold to the touch.

Mrs. O'Neil looks at Raph.

Raph looks at her.

“Leo, dear, why don't you sit down?” She says, rather softly, pointing to the chair propped up against the wall.

Leo looks in its direction, but to Raph's relief, doesn't follow. Instead, he plops down on the cot, right next to his brother, with a quiet sigh. Raph puts down his ice pack.

“Is it me or is it hot in here?” He laughs, a nervous and high-pitched thing.

Mrs. O'Neil's mouth thins, but she nods to Raph, leaving them alone in the little sideroom.

The privacy is only relative – he doesn't even think the door would close if he wanted it to, judging by the layer of rust creeping up on its hinges. But it does make Raph feel a bit better.

Leo fidgets with his hands, twisting his own fingers.

“What happened?” He finally asks, not looking up.

“Nothing. Just an accident,” Raph says. Then: “You thought I got into a fight again, didn't you? That's why you're all shaky.”

Leo watches him for a moment.

There's some anger simmering slowly in Raph's chest, something heavy and hot. But Leo's eyes are big and blue, like a deer in the headlights, and Raph rarely finds the strength to not hit the brakes.

“Well.” Leo drums his fingers against his thighs. “A little. But you know I worry.”

He does, too much for his own good.

Raph huffs.

“And you know I don't do that shit anymore,” he says.

And there might be something a little too honest, a little too open, leaking into his words, because Leo's face melts into something softer, and he leans to bump his arm against Raph's.

“Well, I think it's like...”

He quiets for a moment.

He's breathing a little slower now, but still leans his back against the wall, sighing.

“You know, last month when I opened the kitchen cabinet, a can fell out and hit me over the head.”

Raph snorts despite himself.

“That's why you were wearing your mask like that?” He asks.

Leo shrugs, a little sheepish.

The bell rings outside, the muffled rush of a lunch break slipping into the office, but Mrs. O'Neil leaves them to it.

“Well, now when I open it, I do it slower, just in case.” He shifts a little to look at Raph again. “Like, it's not the can's fault, but I can still kind of feel the bruise. So I just gotta make sure. For me.”

Raph stands suddenly: to stretch his bruised knee, and to quiet the weird humming inside his chest that sounds suspiciously like understanding.

“Well,” he says, mimicking Leo's tone. “I'm not a fucking can.”

“Sure you're not,” Leo answers without hesitation. He can't reach Raph with his hands, but he straightens his leg to tap the back of his thigh. “But I'd still love you if you were.”

Raph flexes his hands.

He's always quick to act, quick to judge, but quick to forgive – at least when it comes to his brothers. And he supposes he can't blame them for watching the lines he's crossed over and over again a little more carefully. Not yet, at least.

They can have a fight about it in a few months. He'd like that. Fighting for things is how he cares.

For now, he only watches as Leo moves on the cot, practically lying down on it, his hands a little less shifty now.

He reaches for the ice pack, tossing it to his brother. Leo sends him a grateful smile, placing the cool ice under his chin.

“I ran into a basketball hoop,” Raph says, suddenly, because he needs to say something. “That's what happened.”

Leo's face lights up with something like bewilderment and amusement, but before he has a chance to say anything, the door to the office slams open.

“Oh, for-”

Raph can hear a chair scraping against the floor, which probably means Mrs. O'Neil is ready to kick all of them out of her office, and he can't even really blame her for it.

Donnie and Mikey don't even have the courtesy to look apologetic.

“Yo, you look like you tried to make out with a wall,” is the first thing Mikey tells him, his voice light and on the verge of a laugh.

Donnie squints, his eyes shifting from Raph to Leo, still laid out on the cot.

He crosses his arm over his chest, elbow resting in his palm when he points at Raph.

“Aren't you supposed to be the injured one?”

Raph looks at Leo. Their eyes meet, and the corner of Raph's mouth twitches into something like a smile.

He should probably tell Mr. Honeycutt about this. Maybe. He'll get around to it.

For now he reaches out to help Leo sit up, and holds his hand just a little longer than necessary, giving it a light squeeze.

Some of the things Mr. Honeycutt says make Raph want to finish fights a little less.

Some of the things Leo says sound like a promise.

#fanfiction #tales of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tottmnt #ff #tales of the tmnt #mutant mayhem #fanfic

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mybrokenveins3000 · 1 year ago

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Hey I just read all of your college Ross pieces and I love them!!

What about one night if reader goes out and ends up too drunk and calls Ross so he comes to pick her up and takes her home. Maybe she's trying to talk about her feelings for him but he doesn't want her saying anything she'll be embarrassed by. Or she asks him to stay the night so he sleeps on her floor

A/N: Oh. My. God.

FIRST AND FOREMOST, thank you for the love and for readingg <3 It really means the world to me. SECOND OF ALL... ANON... YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE. I am going to PASS OUT. Thank you for this request, my heart might just burst. I might have gone over board, this is the longest thing I've written thus far. Anyways, here goes nothing... enjoy ;)

Drunk Call - College!Ross Macdonald

word count: 1.5k

♫ Heavenly - Pale Waves

This party is excessive and headache-inducing - the music is bad, the people even worse. You don't even know why you're here. When your flatmates asked "why that party?", you simply replied, "just for something to do".

You're slumped down by the foot of the couch, tangled between legs, empty bottles, empty cups. No matter how much you hammer at the side of your phone, all that blinks back is a fat 0%.

The liquor is not sitting right in your stomach, you're not in the mood, and each thrum of bass reminds you of him.

You haven't seen Ross for what feels like forever. He had gone back to his hometown for the week whilst you stayed in the city. There was something noticeably different about the setting without him, the lights felt dimmer, the air felt colder.

You were conscious not to disrupt his week at home, spending so many nights staring at an untouched keyboard. Oh, the amount of text messages you thought up but never sent.

But you knew he would be back today, which was your main source of hope in this tragic, alcohol-punctuated moment.

Without a second thought, you pull at a semi-familiar friend's trouser leg and ask if you can borrow their phone. After a reluctant "yes", you're punching a familiar number onto the screen, then the bright and inviting call button.

The phone buzzes softly in your hand as you lift it to your ear.

Pick up pick up pick up pick up--

"Hello, this is Ross speaking."

You relax at the sound of his voice. You were beyond the border of missing him.

"Hello!!" you exclaim, loud enough to hear yourself over the music - which is to say deafening from his side of the line.

"Whoa," it's like you can hear him wincing, "is that who I think it is?"

"Mhmmm"

"Where are you? Are you okay?" You selfishly smile at the twinge of panic in his voice as he registers the state you're in.

"My phone... it died... This is the only number I know," you gulp, "off by heart."

He's speechless, already devising a plan to save you. If only you could see him now, a blushing mess, half worried, half desperately in love.

"Are you busy?" you add before he can react to the former statement.

"Uhh no, just finished practice. Where are you?"

"Oh, practice... GUYS, I'M ON THE PHONE WITH A ROCKSTAR!!" you announce with such pride to a room full of strangers and acquaintances, once again almost deafening him on the other side of the line. And yet he's hanging onto every word, even if it hurts him.

"Okay, I'm coming to get you," he laughs, "don't worry, I think I know where you are."

"My hero!" you tease, "but please come soon, the music is so bad and I miss you, Ross, I FUCKING MISS YOU--"

You accidentally hang up.

---

Not two minutes later, you see a familiar, flushed face enter the room. Did he run here?

The scene is hazy and fragmented, but you could recognise the space he takes up in any room, even in this state. Ross towers over the crowd, a vision in black denim, searching over moving heads and smoke. Then he locks eyes with you.

You wave at him, still sitting on the floor by the couch. He seems to sigh in relief, hand on his heart.

You spring up as he approaches, unaware of the bottles and cups you've knocked over. He takes you in - you, slightly unravelled but the same as ever. Still beautiful as ever.

"ROCKSTAR!" you cry as you flop into him, catching his eyes crinkling at the name. And you're back in his arms, so inviting, not so dissimilar to the comfort of home. "How did you know I was here?!" you beam at him.

"Matty mentioned it. He wasn't invited," he laughs.

"Lucky him."

You stand there in the middle of the room holding each other for a while, both revelling in how much you've missed each other. For a second, it's warm and quiet. If it took one long week and a bad party to experience this, you think, then it was all worth it.

Suddenly, the song changes to a particularly insufferable one. You both groan like you're one body, one mind.

"Let's go?" he says.

"Let's go."

---

You dance in and out of streetlights down the path to your accommodation, humming one of his band's songs, one from the night of the gig. Ross's walking right beside you, arms at the ready in case you fall or turn where you're not supposed to. Even as you stumble, he gazes at you with amazement at how beautiful you look without even trying.

"What was that thing?" you blurt out.

"What thing?" he hums in response, his alertness veiled by a sense of calm, eyes still glazed with wonder.

"You know, that thing you said when we first met? I'm someone you want to keep, was it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I never said that." he teases, his playful grin giving away his lies.

You throw your arms out and scream into the night, "I'M SOMEONE YOU WANT TO KEEEEEEP!!"

He laughs awkwardly, eyes widening at your sudden outburst. But he adores you. In this moment, that's his only truth.

"Ah, okay, let's take a break"

He settles you down onto a nearby bench. You take in a deep breath of fresh air which turns into a yawn.

Your head starts to droop, but he quickly rests it on his shoulder as he lowers down to sit next to you. Always ready to take care of you, to save you when you let him.

"So suave, so so nice, so nice" you mumble drowsily, half to him, half to yourself.

"What was that?"

"You're so nice... And so good-looking," you can't stop your mouth from moving, "I really like being around you and I missed you so much, but I don't know if you felt the same!! But you're so nice, sometimes I just want to--"

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he slithers his arm around your waist and hoists you back up onto your feet before you say something you'll regret.

But he's unable to bite back a smile. In another world, he would let you speak, but he knows you and knows better than to let you talk yourself into a hole you can't escape.

Not yet, he thinks, not like this.

"Hey! You could compliment me, you know," you nag as you start walking again.

There's a pause as he really considers his response.

"...you know you're gorgeous, right?" he finally sighs, breath visible in the crisp night air, "besides, everything I'd say, I'd want you to remember."

---

He gently lays you down in your bed, but you can't seem to let go of him.

"I don't want you to go", you whine, "won't you stay?"

"For how long?"

"Stay forever."

His eyes soften as he looks down at you, your arms still clasped around his neck. Only you have the power to render him speechless like this. It's so easy for you to get what you want.

You let go of him, aggressively patting the empty side of the bed.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I don't share beds with drunk girls," he says. He takes a stray pillow and blanket, and plonks them onto the floor beside you so he can monitor you as you sleep. By this point, you've already passed out.

---

Ross can't sleep. He doesn't mind the floor, but stirs at every sound and movement you make, constantly checking if you're okay.

Throughout the night, he finds himself looking at the details of your room, at books, concert tickets, and photos of friends and family - pieces of you that he wants to know more about.

He watches you, so peaceful, in awe how he has someone like you in his life.

My life would be so boring without you, he thinks.

---

You wake up just as he walks into the room with a cup of tea. He sets the cup down by the bedside table with a soft smile. The air of domesticity is something you could live in forever.

"Hi," you mumble through fluttering eyelids, filtering the Sunday morning sun.

"Hi. Are you doing okay?"

You nod as you sit up. He sits on the bed, brushing the stray hairs from your face, the warmth of his hand like a healing force. You can't tell he hadn't slept because of how happy he looks just to be there.

You reach over for the tea with the comfort of knowing he made it just how you like it.

"I didn't say anything weird, did I?" you croak, sipping the tea.

"No, not at all," he replies.

There's a moment of silence. The morning birds fly past the window, the steam of the mugs mists your eyes.

"I missed you too, you know," he finally says, "I missed you so much."

A/N: Didn't proofread this but HOPE YOU ENJOYED. I'll probably edit it a bit when I come back, but I wanted you to have this sooner rather than later, anon. THANKS FOR YOUR REQUEST AGAINNNN

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ilygetou · 2 years ago

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Hello! Can I request where the reader is overwhelmed with her emotions, and there's this one toxic friend she had in the past, and this toxic friend was so toxic that it made the reader hold a lot of grudges and hate towards her. so the toxic friend is back and the reader feels A LOT of REALLY negative emotions and so much anger, the reader literally start to have a mental breakdown and so how do the boys react? Can you do them separately though? :)

featuring: Kazutora, Rindou, Mikey, Angry

1:05AM.

characters: kazutora, rindou, manjiro sano.

c/w: panic attacks, mentions of abuse, hints of misogyny, mental breakdowns, hurt/comfort, punching, blood, mentions of past relationships.

note: this might be kinda of ooc!! other than that i hope this turned out good considering i have never ever really wrote something like the before, + so sorry for having this finished so late i have been so busy lately.

p.s: sorry i didn’t do angry :( i didn’t know how 2 write 4 him so i got scared that i may write him a bit more ooc so i didn’t do him<\3.

MANJIRO SANO:

you were taking a walk with manjiro, engaging in a conversation about toman and their progress. Manjiro was talking about how they got a new member in the gang that he actually liked, his name was ‘takemichi’ & manjiro seems very much interested in him.

other than that, manjiro kept begging for you to join toman, trying to convince you by telling you all kinds of fun & interesting things that happen.

“for the millionth time ’jiro, i will not join your gang” manjiro let’s out a groan, since his plan doesn’t seem to be working.

while manjiro was whining, you caught a glimpse of a familiar looking face from a distance. And suddenly, a rush of negative & pessimistic emotions ran through your veins, feeling your blood running cold, as you froze in your place.

manjiro stopped in his tracks & looked back at you, “y/n?” manjiro’s eyes followed yours until he met the blonde female you’ve been eyeing for a while. Manjiro raises an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face.

Once you and the blonde girl eyes met you felt your heart drop, she sent you a smile as she seemed to be heading to your direction. You quickly looked away, giving her your back.

At first, you tried denying the person. There’s no way that’s her, right? but again, the familiar blonde hair, the smile, her looks. They’re engraved in your memory.

your thoughts got interrupted as the sounds of walking got louder before it finally stopped.

“y/n? hello!” her voice echoed through your head, making your heart beat faster, mind too occupied to acknowledge her. You felt yourself start to shake, hands sweating as the memories of what she did came rushing back.

She was your best friend, ex-best friend. you two were like sisters, never leaving each other’s side, telling her your secrets and trusting her with them. You shared half of your good memories with her, you never expected her to stab you in the back & betray you.

The amount of horrible stuff she did made you boil up with anger.

getting with your boyfriend, you remember the day you caught the two of them making out, vividly. And then after that, everything went downhill. she started spreading your secrets to the whole school, the secrets you trusted her with. You never really knew her reasoning for that, you didn’t do anything to her — even after you found out she got with your boyfriend.

The whole school went against you, the bullying got worse — being made fun by everyone, having vile insults thrown at you at every given moments.

it even got worse, getting sent death threats online by your classmates, even though you never really did anything wrong.

Manjiro was confused, side eyeing the girl before she turned around to face him. “who are you? y/n’s boyfriend?” she snorted, as you started to breathe heavily.

“no?” manjro simply responded, “yeah, it’s impossible for y/n to bag a hottie like you, right?” she batted her eyelashes at manjiro, looking at him with a smile while manjiro scrunched his face in disgust. Backing away from her & moving by your side, “y/n, who is she?” manjiro whispered to you while you ignored him.

“do you not miss me? it’s been ages since we last met,” ages? more like four months. You tried to look up at her, but every time you take a glance of her face, you immediately look away.

you take ahold of manjiro’s wrist & try to walk away with him, trying to ignore the way her eyes were glued to your figure. But before you could take another step, another person’s hand stopped you by also taking ahold of your wrist.

you immediately knew who it was, pushing her hand quickly away, followed by “what the fuck is wrong with you?” she lets out a scoff, “aren’t we friends? why are you acting like this?” your heart started pounding at a rapid speed, her words kept repeating themselves in your head.

“friends? the last time i remember friends don’t go and sleep with their friends boyfriend? or go and spread their friends secret to the whole school or go and harass them online along with their other classmates.” you finally snapped, tears threatening to fall and paint your cheeks.

You were filled with hatred and disgust, for a whole two years you’ve thought of her as your best friend, someone like your sister.

Manjiro stood there stunned, speechless. his eyes wandered to your shaking figure, lips quivering & slight tears covering your lash line. Manjiro wonders for how long you’ve has this buried within you, for how long you’ve wanted to get this out, for how long you’ve been suffering.

He was dumbfounded, he was your best friend and yet he never knew anything about this.

The blonde girl stood there before she started chuckling, “that was the past y/n, the past! you still haven’t moved on?” you clenched your fists, the more she continues to talk the more irritated you got.

“plus i’ve only got with your boyfriend as a joke, it’s not my fault you took that seriously” your breath hitched, is she making fun of you, right now? making it seem that your past is just one big joke?

without thinking, you walked towards her— raised your hands a slapped her cheeks, so hard. Her face right cheek turning a bright red, letting out a gasp — her brows furrowed, raising her hands to the same to you but instead got stopped by manjiro holding her hands back; “don’t” he muttered, hair covering his eyes, but you could tell he was angry.

he tightened his grip on her worst before letting go, she let out a yell & cussed you and manjiro out before running away.

You immediately fell to the floor, crying. hands on your mouth to muffle your sobs, shaking in your place before manjiro bent down to your level, “’ts okay, she’s gone now” manjiro reassured, hugging your shaking figure & muttering; “it’s okay.”

it wasn’t long before you calmed down, your eyes were red and puffy — you just looked so messy. Manjiro giggled, “you look horrible, right now” you playfully hit him, “shut up” you replied before letting out a low giggle.

you thanked the gods, no one was there other than you and manjiro otherwise someone else could’ve seen you in such a dreadful state.

After the laughing have stopped, and everything have gone quiet you stopped in your tracks — “thank you manjiro” you suddenly said, manjiro tensed at your word — “huh? oh! don’t worry about it...it’s the least i could do” manjiro rubbed the back of his head, as if he was shy.

you brushed it off with a sigh, grateful to have such a friend like manjiro.

R. HAITANI.

you were in a restaurant with the younger haitani brother, engaging in a conversation about each other’s whereabouts. Taking a big bite of your food after every word, “y’er making a mess, pretty” rindou giggled before he wiped your lips with his thumb.

you slightly looked away, embarrassed, “c-cut it out!” you mummer — rindou let’s out a chuckle, “whaat? are you embarrassed?” he teased making you sink yourself into your hands, rindou let’s out another chuckle causing you to slightly look up at him with a small smile.

After a while of chattering and laughing with your boyfriend, a sudden figure appeared in front of the two of you — causing rindou to slightly raise his brow in confusion, “long time no see, n/n.”

you gasped at the sudden usage of your nickname, the nickname no one have ever used for you expect for your ex-boyfriend. You slightly looked up from your food to face him, he had a grin on his face as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.

He didn’t change one a bit, his dark black hair, his cedar colored eyes, his body that looked like it belongs to a gym freak person, buff chest and his muscular figure.

you felt yourself freeze in your place, he was talking to you but it was like you suddenly went deaf — his voice was particularly a background sound for you as you tried to process if that was actually him.

“hey, y/n? are you okay?” rindou asked, ignoring the muscular guy in front of the both of you — “oh? are you n/n’s boyfriend?” he slurred your nickname as he stared at rindou with a frown, “yes? do you mind?” your ex chuckled at rindou’s words — “i do actually, y/n is mine, isn’t that right n/n?” his words snapped you out of your thoughts.

you stared at him with narrowed eyes, fist clenched and mouth in a thin line as memories of you two together flood through your mind, “i am not yours.” you blankly said, which made your ex let out a scoff — “last time i checked, y/n is mine.” rindou suddenly spoke, making eye contact with the guy.

“could you please leave?” your voice came out slightly muffled as your bottled up emotions were slowly starting to come out, “i don’t want someone who treats me like an object to call me theirs, someone who doesn’t know how to treat their partner right in a relationship — cheats on them all the time even after getting forgiven multiple times, hit them, insult them, treat them like absolute shit.”

rindou’s eyes widened at your words, he felt anger boil up inside him, were your past relationship that bad? and why didn’t you tell him? did you not trust him enough? did you not like him that much to tell you? but mainly, rindou was angry about the dude in front of him.

tears were falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks, you slightly looked away and sunk your face into your purse, trying not to let out loud sounds of your sobbing.

“that’s because i’m a man, you’re a women. Your only purpose is to be there for me when i need you, even if i go out with other females, i don’t have the same love for them like the one i have for you — besides, this is how all men are, do you think your new boyfriend is any different? i doubt that, i think he’d much worse.”

your ex let’s out a chuckle which was cut off with a sudden loud thud, it was rindou. He punched your ex boyfriend on the side of his face, his eyes having zero emotions on them, he raised his fist once again and punched your ex on the same side of his face.

Your ex gasped, his hands were on his cheek. Not knowing how to react he just laid there on the floor shocked, his brows furrowed in anger, eyes narrowed as he looked at rindou with so much hatred and anger.

your crying got much harder, you started shaking in your place, mascara running down your cheeks, eyeliner smudged, your lipstick all over the place as you kept biting your lips to stop your sobbing sounds, your make up got completely ruined.

And suddenly, rindou held your wrist and dragged you out of the restaurant after he just caused a scene in there. Your breathing was fast, you were sweating and your heart was racing rapidly.

You felt yourself losing control over your body, tears were streaming unstoppable. You were felt with fear and horror, fearing that he may suddenly appear out of nowhere and cause another scene.

Rindou suddenly embraced you in a hug, your face buried on his chest as you continued crying, rindou tried to calm you down from your panic attack — muttering apologies, reassuring you that’d be okay, muttering i love you’s.

“it’s okay, don’t cry” he gives you a slight peck on the lips and stares into your teary eyes, “that fucker is now gone, he won’t be coming back anytime soon” rindou reassures, giving you another kiss on the lips, he then proceeded to hug you tightly — his face laying on your shoulders as you started to calm down a bit.

“it’s okay, y/n...” rindou whispers into your ears, and you slowly started calming down. Tears stopped rolling down your cheeks and your body stopped shaking, your breathing steadied and you slowly melt into rindou’s embrace.

sniffing, you let out a choked whimper — “thank you rindou, thank you so much” you muttered but he was able to hear you, “it’s okay, don’t thank me — i should always be there for you when you need me, don’t thank me” rindou pulled out of the hug and stared deeply into your eyes, removing a strand of your hair from your face and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

you slightly looked away, embarrassed. Rindou chuckled at your reaction before kissing your forehead — “do not hesitate to tell me anything, k’ay? i want to know stuff before a situation breaks out, just like today — i never knew you had an abusive ex, why didn’t you tell me?” rindou asked, his voice soft and gentle.

“i just...” you trailed off, “i was scared of how you my react to this information, it’s not that i don’t trust you or like you — i do, I trust and love you so much, it was just a hard topic for me to talk about” you looked rindou in the eye, his lips curled into a smile — “i understand, but whenever your comfortable, could you please tell me more about that ex of yours? He still needs a beating.”

K. HANEMIYA.

You and kazutora were out together in the park, since kazutora had been wanting to go with you to a park since forever.

You guys were only there for a short while until a a short haired girl with brownish hair approach the two of you, at first you didn’t notice her — until she started speaking.

“hey y/n, remember me?” her voice was familiar, it was high pitched, one of those voices that were forced to sound cute. At first your head went blank when she said that, who was she?

Until she tilted her head in confusion towards kazutora’s direction, her eyes glued to his figure as her lips curled into a pout and then suddenly it clicked. It was your past bully, middle school bully.

You remember the face she was doing, the one she made to get with your boyfriend — but that should be fine, right? It was just a middle school relationship anyways. But, she still did so many horrible stuff — stuff that you wouldn’t expect a middle schooler to do.

selling drugs? Vaping? Shop lifting? She has done all of this at the age of 14, she ruined you. Blamed all of her trouble on you. And you were the one who got in so much trouble, she hated you, you hated her. It was a mutual feeling.

Your middle school life all went in vain because of her, everyone hated you because they all believed her, no one even heard you out or asked you for an explanation — they all just ignored you, as if you were just there.

You’ve always wondered why she treated you that way, is it because you had such a nice personality? That it was so easy to take advantage of you. Or was it just for her own entertainment? You’ll never know her reasoning behind her horrible acts towards you.

“what do you want?” you snapped her out of her staring contest with kazutora who was seemingly confused, “me? i just wanted to check on an old friend” she replied, her voice making your head hurt.

“we’re not friends, r/n” she chuckled, making you start sweating, anger boiling up inside you — your heart filled with hatred and anger, you just wanted to punch her in the face.

“pfft, are you still not over middle school? come on we were just children” your eyes twitched, hands shaking as you tried to hold yourself to not beat her up right here and now.

“y/n doesn’t want to talk to you nor does she seem to want you here, could you kindly leave?” you heard kazutora say from beside you and your eyes immediately softened — poor kazutora, he was being nice to such a disgusting person.

“Why should i care? It’s not my fault she doesn’t know how to defend herself, fucking weakling” kazutora slightly cringed from her usage words, weakling? what is she talking about. Confusion ran through kazutora’s head and he slightly looked towards you, concern and confusion written all over his face.

You let out a long sigh, you raised your fist and without thinking any further you punched her in the gut — she let out a choked gasp mixed with a yell, kazutora’s eyes widened, his lips slowly curling into a smirk as he watched you punch her on the same place a second time.

She then started crying from the pain, tears staining her cheeks and an ugly expression was on her face — “i’m going to fucking report y-you! just you wait!” and she suddenly got up and ran away, crying. You felt a sudden wave of relief brush over you but the overwhelming emotions you’ve been holding for way too long finally came out.

You broke on the floor, sobbing. Shaking and crying, letting out choked hiccups and tears didn’t seem to stop coming out.

Kazutora bent down to your level and hugged you, “why are you crying? She got what she deserved, don’t cry” his voice came out soft, kazutora still doesn’t know about your past with that girl but he still wanted to comfort you.

“whatever she did, she was in the wrong — you were just a kid back then, she just took advantage of how nice you were, don’t cry y/nn” kazutora was terrible at comforting that all he could do is hug you tightly and give you forehead kisses, but he felt bad seeing you in this state, it made his heart shatter in pieces.

If anything, kazutora hated seeing you upset, he hated it so much that it upsets him as well.

You slightly looked up at kazutora, eyes puffy and red but a smile was on your face — “you okay, now?” he asked in a worried tone, you nodded your head and went to embrace kazutora in another hug.

“you know, you suck at comforting” you mummerd and giggled right after, kazutora frowned — “hey, i’m trying, okay?” after a minute of silence you two started laughing.

“that punch y/n, it was amazing” kazutora exclamation, you let out a muffled giggle and wiped your tears — “yeah? Do you want me to teach you how to punch like that?” kazutora fake pouted — “hey! are you making fun of me?”

#tokyo revengers kazutora #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers mikey #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev rindou #rindou x you #kazutora x reader #kazutora fluff #manjiro fluff #tokyo rev headcanons

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sissytobitch10seconds · 4 months ago

Text

Tapping, Pacing, Waiting

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone Summary: They're breaking into one of the most technologically advanced places in the world, it's going to take time. And food, Matthias reminds himself. Warnings: Mentions of criminal acts, hacking, and mentions of grooming/child abuse Word Count: 3,913 Ship(s): Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik/Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa/Wylan Van Eck/Jesper Fahey

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A/N: Okay, so I'm a certified Information Technology professional with a CompTIA Security+ certification, but no experience (yet). I wrote this a little after finishing up my internship because I thought that it would be super fun to explore what the Crows would look like as an accurate depiction of hackers. I didn't do any of the movie tropes and tried to find jobs that would fit them while also fitting with our modern technology. I know that this fic is extremely self indulgent, but I just couldn't help myself! I hope you all enjoy, lol. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

As a child, Matthias Helvar’s home had always been quiet.

He had been raised in a cabin in the back of the woods, separated but not completely cut off from the town. He had no television or computers, no technology other than the single corded phone that hung from the wall outside of his kitchen and the radio that his parents used to get their news on Sunday evenings. The greatest amount of sound in his house had been when Trassel or Mila was getting a bath, and even then it only lasted for about half an hour before it died down. The loudest that he remembered his childhood home being was when he had lost them all, when his entire home had gone up in flames.

The boarding school that his distant aunt had sent him to after he had been placed in her custody was quiet as well. The other boys would make noise when they were in the common room, but Matthias got easily overwhelmed by them and spent most of his time sequestered off in the library instead. He had gotten used the noise slowly over time, but the formative years that he had spent away from his classmates meant that the only person he really connected with was the head of his dormitory.

Jarl Brum had been a man that kept his home very quiet as well. After Matthias had graduated, he had been asked to move in with Brum and their relationship had progressed from there. It had been inappropriate since the first time that Matthias had been called into his office, but he hadn’t realized it back then. He had been too busy searching for something to quiet the loudness of his mind and the outside world around him. The house had been quiet in a pregnant kind of way, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The psych ward where he had met Nina Zenik was quiet but loud. It was quiet because not many of the people were really up to shouting or laughing or joking with each other the way that his peers had been at boarding school. It was loud because many of them cried themselves to sleep, or were talking quietly with therapists, or their thoughts were so loud that it seemed to leak out of them and into the air. Nina had been one of those people, struggling with her addiction to heroine and her battle with anxiety.

The home that they had made together afterwards was not quiet, but Matthias liked it that way. A Nina that was healthy was not quiet by habit and he liked it when she was loud. She would sing, whistle, and (somehow) hum off key when she was working. She would type as loudly as she could when she was working at her computer. She kept the central heating on at all times because she hated being cold, especially when she was putting on the weight she had lost while battling her addiction.

They added to the noise together, which was another thing that Matthias adored. He had met Inej Ghafa, a women that was so quiet that she was silent, at a support group for people that had been sexually abused as children and teenagers. They had gotten on like a house on fire and quickly integrated their friend groups together. While Inej was quiet, the boys that she brought with her were not.

Kaz Brekker was loud in a way that he didn’t seem to realize. His presence was a big, buzzing mess of emotion that made everyone look to him when he walked into a room and pay attention when he had something to say. He cane was loud when it tapped on the ground while he made their way around their home. He also spoke under his breath when he was working and creaked his gloves whenever he wore them. Jesper Fahey was just as loud as Nina was. He sang with her while they baked monstrosities they had found on the internet together in Matthias’ kitchen. He would laugh too loudly and too long at jokes but made everyone smile when he did. He snored when he slept, so loud that it felt like he was testing the structural integrity of their apartment.

They moved in together and Matthias was sure that he would never know another person that liked silence as much as he and Inej did. Then Jesper had gotten a boyfriend, and the balance of the quiet-to-loud ratio was restored in their home. Wylan Van Eck was quiet too, almost too quiet. He moved like he was afraid of noise instead of just not fond of causing it the way that Matthias and Inej were. He jumped at loud, sudden noises and whimpered when one of them talked too loud. He never spoke above a whisper, until they had coaxed him into an outburst that had Kaz muttering and the rest of them cheering.

The noises that plagued his home in the current moment were familiar to him, comforting in a way that he could barely describe. He could hear the AC unit that Nina had mounted in the office to the window blowing through their home despite the fully functioning HVAC that they had. He could hear the sound of paws scrabbling on the hardwood floors as Fergus, Matthias and Jesper’s massive greyhound, chasing after Bisha, Nina’s cat. He could hear the sound of the server whirling away in the basement, in that secret room that Kaz had crafted with Wylan a week after he moved in. His favorite sound, the one that made his heart melt in his chest, was the sound of Inej and Nina talking about their favorite show together in the living room.

He walked into the hallway and scooped up the unfortunate kitten that was being terrorized by an overexcited, confused puppy. “Come, kat,” he hummed as he pecked her on the top of her soft head.

They made their way from the hall to the living room, where Matthias paused to watch the scene in front of him. Nina was spread out over the couch, she was wearing a button down shirt that very obviously belonged to Jesper because the sleeves were rolled at the bottom had been tied so that it actually fit around her torso without giving the appearance of a dress. The spread of her billowy red and purple skirt made her look like she was drowning in the fabric, but it also gave just enough allure of her body to make Matthias hunger for her.

Next to her, Inej was perched on one of the chairs. She was scrolling on the burner phone that they were using for their most recent job. He knew that it was already in what the others called “Cracked Mode” because of something that Jesper had done when they had all started working together. Matthias struggled to even change the settings on his keyboard, so he didn’t know what they really did to it other than giving themselves more things to change and use.

He couldn’t hear what they were talking about but he could guess that it was something semi-serious. Nina’s face was mostly hidden by the glare of the big picture window behind her, though he could tell that she was being serious based on the way that she was twisting a strand of her hair around her finger over and over again.

Bisha was very discontent that they had stopped when she could see her favorite person. She turned towards Matthias and gave an angry mewl before she sunk her tiny, sharp teeth into the flesh of his hand. He gave a grunt of pain before he said, “Alright, message recieved.”

“It’s my favorite baby!” Nina squeeled when she saw what he was doing. She sat up and then took the cat from him with the practiced elegance that only she seemed to be able to put into everything that she did. He knew that was how she snuck into offices she didn’t belong in and talked her way into being invited to galas on the regular.

“I brought her to you, saved her from the bullies,” Matthias explained. He finished crossing over the floor of the living room and then set the cat down on Nina’s stomach. That was exactly what Bisha had wanted, melting into the loafed position while purring loud enough to put the servers to shame. He then turned to Inej and gave her a kiss on the side of her head, something intimate enough to let her know that he loved her without risking triggering her if she was really in her mind.

He wasn’t offended or upset when he didn’t get a response from her. He didn’t even feel hurt when she jerked the phone away from him so taht all he was able to see was a black and blue screen with a number of different graphs over it. He knew that she was working on something and they would tell him about it in language that he wouldn’t really understand when they were finished.

Matthias’ internal clock was letting him know that he had to return to the kitchen soon, and he didn’t want to interrupt their work any more than he already had, so he got ready to go. “Hey love,” Inej called for him as soon as he had made it to the doorway.

“Yes?” he asked, turning back to her.

“When did you say that the day off for the Ice Court was, again?” she asked.

It was hard for him to think back to that time in his life. He had only recently opened up to the rest of his partners about the things that he had suffered at the hands of the Chief Security Officer of that company. He knew that he was the entire reason that they had chosen to go after them, Kaz never did anything just for fun. He had information that would help them get deeper into the company without having to send Nina after specific people just yet. He wanted to keep her safe and make sure that she was in as little danger as possible, but it was so hard to bring up those memories.

“The standard day off is Sunday, so that the CEO can spend the whole day in church,” he explained. “It is possible that they have changed it or they have a rotating schedule though, but that is when traffic is going to be the least busy. Many of the employees and all of the upper levels are very religious.”

Inej reached out, leaning over the chair in a way that made it look like she was going to topple down into the floor. Matthias knew that she wouldn’t, he had never seen Inej fall, but it still sent a burst of worried adrenaline through his body to see her like that. She hooked her hand underneath his big fingers and then pulled his knuckles to her lips. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” she whispered.

“I know,” he nodded. “If you have more questions, I’m going to be finishing dinner in the kitchen.”

“Dinner?” Nina squawked as she jerked on the couch. Bisha let out a discontented mew and moved so that she could dig her claws into her owner’s flesh more effectively. Nina gave out a little pained noise and squirmed away, but eventually settled so that she was holding her cat against her body with her arms while sitting up.

“I’m cooking something that has to sit for a long time,” he explained. “I know that it is early for us to be eating, but I’m hoping that the carrots will be just right by six.”

Nina let out a little huffy noise and brushed her skirt down so that Inej could sit next to her on the couch. “I’m fine eating our evening meal whenever, but Kaz is so routine oriented.”

“Wylan is too, don’t blame this entirely on my husband,” Inej laughed.

“I heard my name,” Wylan said as he came in the front door of their apartment. He had another package wrapped in brown paper with about a thousand stamps and addresses on it. Matthias hadn’t even realized that the second quietest of his partners had slipped out of their apartment again, but he supposed that it made sense. Wylan was building another one of their massive PCs after the previous one that been crushed in an accident during theri last mission. They had a series of PO boxes opened under fake names around the city that they ordered the parts through so that no one could tell what was coming to their apartment, but they had to visit them at random times and days to complete the illusion.

“We’re just talking about you being routine oriented, though you’re kind of defeating my point right now,” she said as she gestured to the box in his hand.

“I am routine oriented!” Wylan almost looked offended as he slipped his shoes off to place them into the shoe rack. “Work time is from nine to five, except on the weekends when I can let myself do work in the middle of the night for the servers. Just because I don’t have to go through the same motions at the same time every day doesn’t mean that I’m not worse than Kaz.”

“Mental illness is not a competition,” Matthias reminded him gently. He decided that dinner could wait to be prepared for a little while longer since Jesper prefered his carrots closer to raw than cooked anyway. He walked over and took the package from his boyfriend, leaning down the foot between them so that he could steal a kiss. “What is this?”

“A bunch of GPUs,” Wylan replied with a mad grin. “Come, come, you can help me install them!”

A flash of adrenaline and panic flooded through him as his mouth turned downwards into a frown. “I don’t think that is such a good idea, Wy,” he replied.

The other man was too excited to listen to him properly and so began to lead him through the house by his elbow. Matthias had only just enough time to look back towards his girls, pleading for them to come and save him with his eyes. Nina gave a dramatic wave and then pressed her hand to send him a kiss but did nothing to help him. Inej was already absorbed back in her phone.

They made their way to the hall, where they opened up the linen closet. Wylan slid one of the towels to the side and then pressed his thumb down onto a fingerprint scanner that was hidden behind them. There was a soft pop and then the shelves slipped into their secret compartment so that another door was revealed to them. He threw open the door that led into the hidden lower floors of their house with a dramatic bow and allowed the taller to step through first.

Matthias had always thought that the lengths that Kaz went to so that he could hide the real work that they did was overdramatic, but his boyfriend was nothing if not theatrical. There were two staircases and two downstairs areas. One of them was a partially finished celler where Inej stored all of the preserves and dry goods that she made sure they stocked up on. The other was the room that they were descending into now, well-ventilated floors and walls that were painted a boring color of white and pocked with marks from where screws and other computer bits had ended up in them. There was a main office space where the PCs that Wylan had built were stacked up on the desks that the others used. The room that they were going to was Wylan’s workshop, which was right next to the room that held their massive server rack.

“Welcome home,” Kaz rasped where he was bent over his computer again. Matthias wasn’t able to see anything because of the privacy screen, which combined with the illusion of a dead power button allowed him to fake that he wasn’t doing anything.

“I’m going to be making roast for dinner,” Matthias said softly as he leaned down so that he was close to Kaz, his face tilted for a perfect kiss position. He knew what the other man’s touch-tolerance had been by the whiteboard that they had upstairs, but Kaz hadn’t touched it since that morning so quite a bit could have changed.

His stomach turned to honey as the other met his lips in a brief kiss and then returned to his work. Matthias stood back up and then crossed through the office so that he could get to his other boyfriend’s workshop. Wylan had a half dozen towers open and their parts strewn about on his magnetic whiteboard and their respective anti-static pad.

The red-haired man was practically bouncing off the walls as he walked to the other side of the table in the center of the room and then tapped on it, “Bring it here!”

Ever the diligent house husband, Matthias did as he was asked. He walked over and then set down the heavy package. As soon as the paper had hit the table, Wylan had his box cutter out and was beginning to slash his way through the packaging without once damaging the parts inside. “What are you going to use these for?” Matthias asked as he watched with rapt attention.

He hadn’t grown up with technology and was particularly inept at it, but he had somehow managed to fall in love with people that were so good at it that they could outrun trained security professionals and it was fascinating to watch them as they worked.

“I’m going to use them for something really cool, I promise,” Wylan replied cryptically.

Matthias was unconvinced. He kept his arms folded as he leaned down on the workbench so that he could continue to watch Wylan no matter where he was in the room, “Does this something ‘really cool’ have anything to do with opening up the GPUs and then selling them online?”

“This time? No,” Wylan replied. “I’m going to be building some very powerful PCs so that we can do more rendering of the Crow that we use when we infect systems with ransomware. Inej said that she needed something better to look at and I can’t draw on nothing,” he explained.

The box had been properly opened to reveal a set of ten of the objects that Wylan had been talking about. He plucked the first one from the top of the stack and then set it lovingly down next to the anti-static mat that he had been working on earlier that morning. He tucked the rest of them into the special cage that he kept his spare parts in. “Do you want to keep hanging out with me or do you have something to do? I remember you saying something about that when we were upstairs but I can’t recall what it was exactly.”

If Matthias could make sure that Wylan was blushing all the time then he would. The other boy flushed over his cheeks and his ears, all the way down his neck and onto his chest when he was particularly embarassed. Matthias had never seen anything more handsome and adorable in his entire life, especially in the summer when it brought out the freckles dotting the corners of hie eyes. He was clearly embarassed now because he had gotten too excited and hadn’t listened like he had promised to.

Communication had been something that they struggled with not only as a team, but as a polycule. They had promised that they would actually talk to each other instead of just doing things almost a month after they had formed their entire relationship properly.

“This isn’t something you have to be worried about, love,” Matthias murmured. He walked around the table and then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I like that you are excited and let myself be bullied into coming down here with you.”

From the other room, Jesper poked his head in. Based on the angle that he was at, he was sitting on the wheeled chair that they had at his desk. He also had a giant beanbag that he used at times and one of the fidget stools when he was having a particularly hard day. “Hi,” he smiled.

“Hi,” Wylan replied, the grin impossibly stretched over his charming features.

“If you need someone to keep you company, I can do that, Wy,” he grinned.

“Have you finished your virus, Jesper?” Kaz’s gruff voice asked from where he was still hunched behind his computer.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it,” he grumbled in reply. “You can’t rush art.”

Their boyfriend grabbed his cane as he pushed himself to his feet. He walked over to them so that Jesper had to tilt to the other side, giving them a good view of the rippling muscles of his back underneath the fabric of his tank top. Kaz reached down and brushed his gloved hands, always gloved when they were working, over his lover’s face. “I can when Nina and Inej have been war driving past the Ice Court for almost a week. They’re going to get caught if you don’t hurry up so that you have the virus ready for deployment when they get this month’s pattern.”

“I hate it when you’re nice to me and talking about work,” Jesper growled as he leaned further into the touch, eager to be loved even if he was complaining.

Kaz let out a small sigh. “If you promise to actually work then you can sit in Wylan’s workshop while he builds the computers we need for the next phase of the job. If I hear kissing for longer than thirty seconds then you’re both going in time out,” he stated.

“Thank you, baby,” Jesper grinned. His lanky arms stretched out for just long enough to wrap around Kaz’s hips while they kissed, giving the disabled man a bit of extra stability while he bent over.

The sound of wheels on the ground echoed through their space, temporarily mixing with the AC unit and the whir of fans cooling off computer parts. Matthias had just barely stepped into the doorway when Jesper appeared there with the laptop he was working with clutched in his hands. “Hey handsome,” he grinned.

“I have to go make dinner, you cannot distract me again,” he replied strictly. He leaned down and gave Jesper another kiss regardless. They swapped places and Matthias headed up towards the kitchen so that he could get his work done. He wasn’t a computer whiz, he barely knew anything about electronics, but he did know things about people. He could feed his partners, his family, and make sure that they did preventative maintenance on themselves as well. Just the thought of their needs made him remind himself to get the rice bag out from the cupboard so that Kaz could use it when he eventually stopped working.

They were doing something wonderful for him by taking down the company that his abuser still worked for, and he would repay them by loving them and supporting them with every fiber of his being.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #sab #soc #six of crows #shadow and bone #matthias helvar #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #nina zenik #wylan van eck #tapping pacing waiting fic #polycrows #hacker au

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