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shiorimakibawrites · 2 months ago

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Two Ships Passing in the Night (The Phantom #3)

Word Count: ~4600 words Pairing: Matt Murdock x Project Beagle! Reader Summary: You and Matt each go about your respective week. Warnings: Religion, Bible quote, referenced child abuse, referenced injuries, guilt, swearing, drinking The Phantom Matt Murdock/Daredevil Masterlist My Masterlist A03 link

Chapter 3: Two Ships Passing in the Night

Matt expected you to be gone when he returned from work but the empty apartment still stung a little. At least you didn't bolt the second you thought I was too far to give chase, he thought ruefully, shedding his suit jacket.

In fact, he observed as he loosened his tie, it seemed like you had remained here for several hours. Your scent trail leading away from the apartment indicated you had left…maybe in the afternoon? A conclusion supported by his apartment was clean as a whistle with the scent of his cleaning products lingering in the air. It wasn't quite enough to cover the lingering scent of hair dye but at least you had been courteous enough not to leave the used bottle and gloves here to stink up the place…

Courtesy or paranoia. Deposing of the gloves off-site and the cleaning also eradicated the bulk of your fingerprints from his apartment. But is it really paranoia when someone really is out to get you?

Matt filed that away as a potential clue about your hunter. Someone with access to fingerprint databases wasn't exactly a smoking gun but that's how cases were built. A little piece here, another little piece there until he had a target. Finding your hunter wasn't all that different from his own investigation into the shadowy figure crouched like a spider at the center of a web of crime.

Less attributable to paranoia was that you had done his laundry along with your own clothes, leaving the clothes folded and stacked on his bed in orderly piles. Another courtesy, perhaps, showing that you hadn't tried to snoop? Or just being polite enough not to mess with his organizational system? Impossible to know but it was nice knowing he didn't need to carve out time for laundry.

He opened the fridge to retrieve a beer and discovered yet another parting gift. A casserole? He trained his senses on it — eggs, cheese, herbs…potatoes and spinach? When had he bought spinach? He couldn't remember. Wasn't entirely certain when he had last gone grocery shopping either. He knew, logically, that eating in was cheaper than take out. Making his own food meant he got to control exactly what was going into his meals.

But he hated grocery shopping. Nothing was labeled in braille. Sometimes the shelves got completely rearranged so he ended with ten cans of dog food instead of black beans…or people just left things where they didn't belong. Add in the buzz of fluorescent lights, carts with squeaky wheels, lots of voices within a small space that often seemed designed to be as echoy as possible. Then there was the smells - bodies, perfumes, cleaning supplies, food….

By the time he got home, he often had a migraine pounding through his temples. Which killed any desire he had to eat, let alone cook anything.

Furthermore, between his long hours at Landman & Zack and his night job, Matt was often too tired to cook. Sometimes he managed breakfast but that was about it.

He didn't normally eat eggs for dinner but he wasn't fool enough to turn down a home-cooked meal. He cut out a square. It already smelled good cold but as it warmed up? Matt's mouth started watering. It was a simple meal, perhaps, but simple didn't mean. A simple meal well made went a long way in his book.

He had to hold back a moan at the first mouthful. It tasted as good as it smelled. As good as Mama Nelson's egg-bakes. He'd have to take Foggy some tomorrow. It was their last day at Landman & Zack and his best friend deserved a treat for that. Normally that would mean going to Josie's after work but Foggy had volunteered to watch his cousins Lori and Tori this weekend while their parents were out of town.

One more day, Matt reminded himself. Just one more day. Then he and Foggy would be taking cases that they could be proud of. Represent clients who needed their help far more than some large corporation or the wealthy did. No more clients or partners who made his teeth clench and his fists itch…

Just one more day…

Later, as he prepared to head out, he wondered if you had found his real name while you were here. And if he would run into you again tonight.

Your momentary bed wasn't nearly as fluffy as the Devil's. Which wasn't all that surprising considering the later was full-sized beast with a mattress topper while this was a simple cot. But it wasn't uncomfortable and it was clean. Both of which went a long way in your books. A little cot with a single mattress beat the hell out of a cold, hard floor.

Snuggled under a blanket, listening to the distant rumble of the streets, you fell asleep.

You were woken by footsteps. Brisk but soft enough that the walker was clearly trying to be quiet. Not sneaky quiet but more like respectful that someone nearby might still be asleep kind of quiet. Someone less paranoid than you might have slept through it. However you were that paranoid. So within seconds, you were awake but playing possum until you had a better idea of who was down here. Father Lantom might be a good egg but your paranoia was too well rooted.

The walker made a beeline for the washing machines. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Even from here, you could smell the faint but distinctive sour odor of vomit and sweat. Someone was sick? Luckily you were facing in the direction of the washing machines so carefully cracked open your eyes. A woman dressed in a black nun's habit was transferring sheets and child-sized pajamas from a laundry bag into the machine.

Seemed like a lot of laundry bags at her feet. Shouldn't someone be helping her?

Accepting that you were unlikely to go back asleep anytime soon — and this nun almost certainly knew you were here — you stopped pretending to be asleep and sat up in the bed.

It didn't take the nun very long to notice. She paused in her work, turning to face you. She was an older woman, somewhere between your age and Father Lantom, with dark eyes.

"Good morning," she said. "Ms.Smith, was it?"

"Yes, Mary Smith," you said. Maybe it was the habit or the nun thing in general, but the woman had air of strict sternness. "Good Morning Sister?"

"Maggie Grace."

"Nice to meet you, Sister Maggie," you said. You gestured to the pile of laundry bags. "Lots of laundry you've got there."

Sister Maggie shrugged. "Ora et labora, prayer and work, is the life of a nun. There is always a lot of laundry to do. We have many children under our care."

"And that means one person has to do all those kiddos laundry all by their little lonesome?" You asked, arching an eyebrow. That would expect the why Sister Maggie looked so tired.

"Well no," she said. "Normally we tackle it in pairs but some of my sisters are ill."

"Along with some of the kids, I'm guessing?" you asked, reaching for your shoes.

Sister Maggie seem to hesitate, studying you with sharp eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about that look but you couldn't put your finger on what. Maybe Father Lantom? He gave you the same kind of searching look yesterday…You didn't press her for an answer. But even your pre-coffee brain could appreciate someone who seemed to respect her charges' privacy enough to answer random questions about them from a stranger. Even if that question was something as innocuous as whether they had a cold.

"If you can point in the direction of coffee," you said. "I can give you a hand with that laundry, if you like?"

The nun looked surprised at your offer. But you made it for much the same reason that you had cleaned up the Devil's apartment and did his laundry — to keep the books balanced. Father Lantom might be a good person and Sister Maggie seemed like one but it was still better not to get into anyone's debt.

Besides, unless you were too sick to move or too exhausted to do anything but sleep, you weren't good at doing nothing. You always got restless sooner or later. Then you'd have to move, have to do something. Helping out was more productive than pacing around the basement like a caged tiger.

And, to be completely pragmatic about it, being helpful was beneficial for you. It tended to leave people with the impression of you as hardworking and nice, which often deposed them to find armed, shady men sniffing around or asking odd questions about you extremely suspicious. A reaction that had alerted you to trouble in time to escape more than once.

"We have a drip machine in the office," said Sister Maggie, before a mischievous grin spread across her face. "But if you want something fancier, Father Lantom is always looking for the chance to show off his latte skills."

One sip and you understand why Father Lantom wanted to show off. This was a top notch latte. And you would know – you had worked as a barista several times.

“If this Jesus thing ever gets boring for you,” you said. “You’ve got a bright future as a barista.”

"And you haven't even tried my mocha," said Lantom.

"You also do mocha?"

Brownie points for you, you managed to make that sound casual and mildly curious. Your last identity was a person who stopped by the coffee shop everyday for their sugary, extremely specific coffee order. Mary Smith, however, was mostly a drip coffee machine at home girlie. She'd take the occasional latte (or mocha) as a treat, especially if someone else was paying, but otherwise didn't see the point of the expense. After all, she had perfectly good coffee right here at home…

Matt felt a relief that he couldn't quite put into words. A tension, a tightness between his shoulder blades had been there for so long that he had almost forgotten about it, had eased. Besides him, he could sense the same release from Foggy. There was a spring in his step that hadn't been there in a long time, despite the late hour and that he was burdened with the box with their personal items.

"All on our own now, buddy," Foggy said with pretend mournfulness. "No more free bagels."

"There's more to life than free bagels, Fog."

"That's an easy thing to say when you've got a girlfriend making you delicious egg-bakes," Foggy retorted. "And why haven't you introduced me?"

"Mary's not my girlfriend."

Matt didn't need eyesight to know Foggy was leveling a skeptical look at him right now. "Sure, she isn't."

"We're just friends."

If we're even that much, Matt thought. He didn't even know your real name. And despite being obviously lonely, you had been very guarded. For a good reason, he reminded himself. She's being hunted. By someone you obviously considered powerful and dangerous. The fear had come through just as strongly as the loneliness and despair.

Foggy huffed. "Whatever you say, Matt. And you still haven't answered my question. Why haven't you introduced your bestest friend to your friend who just happens to be a girl?"

Despite Foggy's joking tone, Matt could hear the underlying hurt in those words. The fear that Matt would, like some of Foggy's so-called friends between middle and high school, decide that Foggy was too silly or otherwise embarrassing to be his friend anymore. Which was never going to happen. If anything, Foggy was going to realize that Matt wasn't good enough…

"Mary's skittish of new people," Matt explained, picking his words carefully. "And is dealing with some trouble right now that's eating up a lot of her energy."

Foggy made a sympathetic noise. "Well, let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

Matt had to smile. Foggy liked to tease him for being a bleeding heart but Foggy wasn't much better in that regard. "I will, thanks Fog."

"No problem," he said, all hurt gone from his voice and all was forgiven. Matt really didn't deserve him.

"Any fun plans with Lori and Tori?" Matt asked, changing the subject away from Mary. He knew being Uncle Foggy to the littles in the Nelson clan was one of Foggy's favorite things, something he could talk about for hours. And sure enough, he immediately took the bait.

"Oh loads! I'm taking them to the zoo tomorrow…"

You were in a holding pattern, waiting for your bank cards to arrive and for potential employers to call you back for interviews. You had spent what time you hadn't been helping Sister Maggie yesterday applying for what you could but you needed a break from entering the same information again and again. You needed time outside. And since Sister Maggie was taking the kids to confession, it seemed like a good time as any to skedaddle for a while.

You could have simply wandered around but you had learned the hard way that your powers had to be regularly used or you lost control over them. So you decided to give your abilities a workout by tackling some of the missing pet notices pinned to the church's bulletin board. Twenty was better at tracking — your thread abilities seem to gravitate more toward reconnaissance — but you weren't a complete slouch in that department.

And yes, the mention of a reward on some of them was a motivating factor. You couldn't depend on the charity of Father Lantom and the sisters at St. Agnes forever.

Matt stood in front of Clinton Church, arguing with himself.

He should go inside. Father Lantom was hearing confession. Matt didn't have to listen in to know that. The priest had been taken confession from parishioners on Saturday afternoon for as long as Matt could remember. It had been…far too long since Matt's last confession.

He had been using the excuse of being too busy. He had to study. He had to work. Neither had been a lie, exactly. His professors at Columbia loved catching students out on Monday for not doing any of the assigned readings. Professor Briggs, his Crim Law Prof, was especially good at sniffing out whoever had come into her classroom unprepared. One class and Matt knew that he never wanted to be that person. Ever.

As a very junior associate at Landman & Zack, he was expected to work late, on weekends, and any holidays deemed necessary. When the opposing council filed a motion at 11: 58 pm, it certainly wasn't going to be the senior associates or partners coming in on Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve to write the response. Matt had offered to do it himself so Foggy didn't miss time with his family.

"Buddy, you seem to forget that Mama Nelson adopted you the moment she laid eyes on your scrawny ass so it's your family time too. Besides if we work together, we can get it done faster and get home in time for pie."

Matt shook his head. Deep down, he knew those were just excuses. He could have made time and sometimes he had. But ever since he started wearing the mask, he had been avoiding it along with Mass. And Matt knew exactly why.

Father Lantom would know. Somehow, someway, he'd know that Matt was the Man in Black. The priest always knew when Matt was doing something he wasn't supposed to be like sneaking out or getting into fights. He always heard what Matt left unsaid during confession. He had never pressured Matt to tell him the truth but always made it clear that he knew and when Matt was ready for his guidance, he would be there to give it.

He wouldn't say that he's disappointed, Matt thought as he once again gave into cowardice and slunk away from the church. But I know he will be.

And Matt wasn't ready to hear that.

"Mary?"

"Yes, Father Lantom?" you asked, looking up from your laptop where you were writing some code. You were a little surprised to see him. Shouldn't he be getting ready for Mass? He seemed like he had been doing that — he was wearing the fancier version of his day-to-day wear with the green smock-scarf thing over top.

"May I ask you for a favor?"

"That depends," you said. If there was one thing, besides 'keep your mouth shut', that the lawyers you had previously hired had drilled into your head was to never agree to something without clearly defined terms. "What exactly is the favor?"

Father Lantom smiled. It was a fond smile with a slightly distant look in his eyes. Like you had just reminded him of someone.

"Reverend Kirk, the pastor at St. Luke's Lutheran church on 46th Street, has a small problem this morning. His cats Pumpkin and Snickerdoodle got into the cabinet with the communion wafers and made a mess of them. So he's a little short this week and asked if I had any I could spare."

"And you'd like me to run them over so you can keep getting ready for your thing?"

"Yes, if you would," Father Lantom answered. Then, as was apparently his custom, waited for you to make up your mind.

"No problem," you said, saving your work. His timing had been excellent — you were at a good stopping point. "46th Street?"

"Yes," Father Lantom said. "Thank you Mary."

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are—"

This is probably cheating, Matt thought as he listened to Father Lantom's familiar voice recite the Beatitudes. Not while seated in the pew as he ought to be but standing on the roof of his building. He could have slipped inside and sat in the back, then slipping back out before the priest saw him. He had even walked toward the church with that goal in mind but once again, cowardice won out.

As he slinked off, he thought he caught your scent but then a tourist a foot away from him dropped their bag. This had shattered a bottle of perfume. Very strong perfume that sent his head reeling and fighting not to gag. He couldn't get away from the smell fast enough.

His head was threatening him with a migraine but Matt still extended his hearing out far enough to hear Mass. His discomfort was unimportant. This was his penance. Both for what he had done and what he would continue to do.

His bruised ribs couldn't wipe the grin off of Matt's face. They had finally done it. After years of planning and saving, Nelson & Murdock was real. Yes, until their appointment with the realtor of Friday, their office was the backroom of Nelson's Meats. And yes, their sign was a piece of paper tapped to the door. But it was theirs, all theirs, and nothing could dim his joy over that.

The feeling was entirely mutual. Foggy might be grumbling a little that their only clients all day had been either his relatives or friends of the family but Matt wasn't fooled. He knew perfectly well that Foggy was just as happy as he was.

They were returning from lunch, having a good-natured debate about the Mets when Foggy abruptly stopped talking and jerked him bodily to the right. It was so unexpected that Matt stumbled a little and momentarily lost track of a bag of garbage. That moment was enough. He tripped over it and banged into the pedestrian traffic signal on his left side, right where his bruised ribs were.

For a heartbeat, sharp pain ate his world. Breathing hurt but Matt pushed through it. He was aware, in a distant sort of way, of Foggy shouting something extremely vulgar and possibly anatomically impossible at someone.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he asked.

"My mother would be telling that fucking bike messenger the same thing," Foggy retorted. "He nearly plowed right into you!"

Foggy took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his temper. His best friend generally had a long fuse that Matt did but for certain things that fuse was significantly shorter.

"Sorry about yanking you like that buddy. It happened too fast to warn you."

Matt waved it off. "It's okay."

If anything Matt was more upset with himself than Foggy. He should have been aware of the bike messenger's approach long before he became a problem. Shouldn't have let himself get so distracted. Shouldn't have let his guard down just because he trusted Foggy to guide him.

"Dickhead should have been paying more attention," Foggy grumbled, stooping down to pick something off the ground. "Doesn't look like your cane got damaged. Here you go."

Oh. I hadn't realized that I dropped it, Matt thought, accepting the cane. "It's fine, Foggy. No harm, no foul."

"This time," Foggy huffed. "Looked like you smacked into the doohickey pretty hard. You okay?"

"I'm fine." That answer came out more terse than he meant. He forced himself to smile. "Probably just gonna be a bruise."

Bruises and one of those ribs is now cracked, part of his brain snidely corrected. But since Foggy trusted him, he accepted that answer without question. Which, as they resumed walking, brought about the usual pang of guilt. He hated lying to Foggy. It might be necessary but it didn't feel good. Didn't feel right, like putting a shoe on the wrong foot. He had been ignoring this discomfort for years now but it never got any easier.

Logically, he knew Foggy wouldn't hate him for being enhanced. He knew Foggy wasn't like that. But every time he opened his mouth to tell him, it was like something was choking him and he couldn't say the words. He could not convince that irrational part of his mind that he wouldn't hear a disgusted 'freak' spat at him before Foggy walked out the door.

It didn't help loosen his tongue that both his logical and irrational mind were in complete agreement about how Foggy would react to the knowledge that he was a vigilante: anger, fear, hurt, doubts .

And he'd have every right, Matt reminded himself.

But Matt couldn't keep listening to that little girl cry and beg her father to stop…couldn't just keep standing by while the system failed her night after night… And now he couldn't just listen. He couldn't ignore the pain and the blood in these streets anymore. He just couldn't.

The toll it took on his body didn't matter. The growing list of people who would like him dead didn't matter.

What mattered was making one less scream in the night. What mattered was making his streets, his people, just a little bit safer.

Even if that meant continuing to lie to his best friend.

It's too dangerous, he reminded himself as he settled back into his desk. It's safer for him if he doesn't know.

If Matt was ever discovered…if Foggy was genuinely shocked and horrified by this revelation, then maybe, just maybe, everyone would believe the truth. That he hadn't known. And maybe, just maybe, they'd leave him be.

He ignored the twinges of doubt like he did the guilt. He had a lot of practice.

You perused the clothing on the rack. You had job interviews scheduled but you needed something that looked more professional than the clothes in your go bag which was mostly a pair of jeans with a couple tee shirts. The blouse you had fled Tampa in was the right kind of dressy but it didn't match your current persona.

Besides three months on the run had a little rough on that blouse. The hem had come loose and half the buttons were…somewhere. When things got more settled, you'd fix it. Just because you couldn't wear it anymore didn't mean it couldn't be worn by someone else with a little TLC.

So far, you had pulled out a small collection of colorful blouses that would mix and match with neutral-colored slacks and a skirt that you had already picked out. If your mental tally was correct, you should have funds to get one more blouse here. The benefits of shopping for clothes in a thrift store.

Even if your bank card had arrived today, you still would have gone to this store. Mary Smith, you had decided, was a frugal gal. The kind of person who preferred to buy things second-hand and attempt to fix things before replacing them. Very different from the last Mary Smith you had been, the little rich girl who turned up her nose at anything that wasn't brand new and often expensive.

The bank had said your card should arrive after two to five business days. Today was a little optimistic but you had gone over to Matthew…the Devil's apartment to check anyway. In the middle of the day when — knock on wood — he'd be at work and — hopefully — unable to investigate any tugging on his threads he noticed. He had put on a suit before he left the apartment so he probably had an office job. They frowned on people taking off in the middle of the work day.

It seemed to have worked. You were able to get in and out without any Devil appearing.

I wonder if the Devil has realized his set of spare keys is missing, you wondered idly. Probably not. Surely he would have paid you a visit if he had. It wasn't like you had left Hell's Kitchen. And if your guess about his enhancement was correct…why hadn't you returned to the church basement to find an irritated Devil waiting for you?

Too much respect for the Church? You idly wondered as you made your final choice and headed toward the check-out counter. He did say he was Catholic.

Well, it wasn't like you were going to keep the keys. As soon as you had your card, you'd put the set back where they belonged. And the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would be none the wiser.

"To Nelson & Murdock!" Foggy said. "The best damn avocados in the world!"

"To Nelson & Murdock," Matt agreed as their glasses clinked together. He ignored the whiskey sloshing over the lip and getting on his fingers in favor of the happy little beat of Foggy's heart, the warmth in the hand on his shoulder. "The best damn avocados in the world."

He needed to get off the couch. Suit up and protect his city. But he had drunk more with Foggy than he had planned to. That or Josie's rotgut was stronger than usual. That would explain why the room kept spinning…and might be why he thought your scent was by the mailboxes. Which it couldn't be. It had been almost four days and he had yet to run into you once.

Granted Hell's Kitchen had a lot of people in it…

Or maybe, a nasty voice whispered. You ran her off. Just like you do everyone else.

You had made me food, he argued with himself. You hadn't taken off as fast as you could. The brief whiff he caught on Sunday hadn't smelled fearful… Neither did the maybe-you smell by the mail boxes…

Maybe he should go to bed. It was late. He had drank too much. He had clients to see tomorrow….

And maybe, if crime was slow tomorrow night, he'd see if he could find you. Just to make sure you were okay.

Notes

In this verse, Foggy and Matt have worked at Landsman & Zack for a couple of years, a combination of needing to pay rent between taking the bar (in late July) and getting the results / actually getting admitted to the bar (late October or early November at the earliest), internship, as well as building up a start-up fund & supplies for Nelson & Murdock. Matt hated every second of it.

Reader is worryingly used to referring to herself in the third person, an artifact from being unable to be herself because being herself has seldom been safe.

Ever seen Legally Blonde? Remember Elle's first day of class where the professor immediately picks one student and drills in on him? Imagine that but the kid hadn't even tried to be prepared so ten times worse. Matt witnessed it and went 'nope, nope, nope'.

The smock-scarf thing is the vestments. The smock part is a alb or surplice - a long over tunic that kinda looks like a smock — the scarf thing over over that garment is called a stole. Since it is currently Ordinary Time (not Easter or Christmas season or other special day/time), those vestments are green.

St. Luke's Lutheran on 46th is a real church in Hell's Kitchen, according to the internet.

The Beatitudes is part of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 5: 3-10

I'm told that bike messengers in NYC can be a hazard.

Yes, you did swipe Matt's spare set of keys. And no, Matt hasn't noticed yet.

Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @pastafossa, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd, @spn-reader

#daredevil #fan fiction #fan fic #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #the phantom series #into the red thread verse

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musiesmusic · 1 year ago

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Wasabi Analysis

Little Mix - Wasabi (Official Video) (youtube.com)

It feels like its about red pepper flakes and its just as good, just in the sense of grilled cheese. They just didn't focus on the idea of red pepper flakes but I like the emphasis on wasabi to pull away from the “idea of pepper” aka they didnt put a black woman in. But it being an obvious industry plant loses all feel of what it could be but putting in the idea of an industry plant in the sense of silicone, in how it relates to “olaplex” and the idea of bubble candy “silicone” pop. It's a good fit for upperclass suburban moms cooking greek spinach dip w/ feta (which is very good by the way) and their double doors fridge. Honestly considering whats popular now is “rugby mom rap pop” (which can be a nice departure since the previous decade was said silicone) I felt a genuine refreshing feel of walking into the un-stereotyped McMansion. I like the AC and decor and your dog is adorable, and yes champagne for the girlies is wonderful, please tell a well-developed and functioning Regina George hello and how are you.

The thing I appreciate the most in wasabi is how they tried to make the class and feel of wasabi while completely missing the beat and face planting lovingly into said suburban mom’s arms and her famous red pepper grilled cheese. She’d bring it to the local potluck with herbal garlic butter and it’d be delicious, serving Little Mix a plate of pickled radish and beets as their “wasabi.”

Honestly if an industry plant was able to make anything related to classic ideal of spice it would have full emphasis on the POC in their industry group, but considering a white woman is headlining a song about spice in the sense of “wasabi,�� I feel like it lands perfectly in the red chili flake group. Hopefully industry plants learn how to curtail their one-noteness and faceplant perfectly each time completely missing the mark and giving us olaplex silicone realness. Maybe they can make a song about k-beauty and their ideal of thick glass skin. I’m glad its about wasabi and not pepper, even if its sorely missed it in a song called “Wasabi.”

This is an appreciation post for all the suburban moms who genuinely love their kids, please have fun cooking and please be careful with the wine

Love,

The troublesome kid down the street who just really likes grilled cheese

P.s. my mom is wonderful and is the reason I’m like this

#music #music review #wasabi #little mix

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ramonawhitfield · 2 years ago

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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heyy could you write one where the reader finds peter/tom/arvin crying, she gets worried and starts asking him but turns out he's only cooking and halfway in cutting onions and the reader's like "bruh"?

this is the most peter thing ever i think 😭

peter is an awful cook. it runs in the parker family, the occasional grilled cheese or oatmeal being a couple exceptions. he’s never done any real cooking other than that. that’s why it’s usually you who throws things together. you’ll sometimes have peter help you, which he’s always happy to do because he feels bad and wants to get better.

most times, he just keeps you company and thanks you with a million kisses all over your face while you giggle over the stove.

since you’re working late tonight, peter is making the bold decision to take care of dinner. he’s got nothing else to do for once. plus, you do it almost every night. you deserve to come home to a nice meal made by someone other than yourself.

it’s just a simple dish, pasta with some vegetables and bread on the side. it’s simple if you don’t count all the prep work peter has to do. the questions he would normally ask you go straight to his google.

“hey, siri,” peter speaks into his phone, waiting for her response as he walks across the kitchen. he starts grabbing what he needs from the fridge. “how do you dice something?”

he grabs the sharpest knife you own, remembering how you said they were the safest. that makes no sense to peter, but what does he know? first up are the tomatoes. he has to keep asking siri to reread the directions so he doesn’t mess up. he really wants to make a dinner you’ll love. nothing shows that more than perfectly cubed vegetables.

peter manages fine with the mushrooms and only chops the spinach. he’s learning pretty fast. he fills up a pot and sets the water to boil for the pasta while he moves on to dicing the onions. not knowing any better, he leans in closer to cut so he can be more precise. he doesn’t realize anything is wrong until tears are streaming down his cheeks.

he drops the knife on the cutting board with a sniffle. the fumes are getting to him. “what the hell?” peter wonders aloud, using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. “why am i crying?” he’s heard the jokes about cutting onions, but he thought they were only jokes, myths. no one told him they could actually make you cry.

you pick this exact moment to get home, exhausted and ready to curl up in peter’s arms. he’s no where to be found, though. you put down your bag with a call of his name. “peter? are you home?” “in the kitchen!” he shouts back, voice wobbling. you’re too familiar with that voice. it’s his crying voice.

concern takes over you as you make your way into the kitchen, peter still unable to stop his crying. he’s bent over the counter and taking in shaky breaths when you walk up to him. “baby, what’s wrong? did something happen?” you ask softly, putting a comforting hand on his back. “no, no, no, i’m fine. it’s nothing,” he chokes out, this time using his arm to wipe away his tears.

“you’re crying,” you give him a gentle reminder of the state he’s in. you’ve had so many conversations where peter says he’s okay and really hasn’t been, so you’re weary. “no- i mean, yeah, but it’s not for the reason you think.” peter takes a step back and turns around to face you. he offers a shy smile before he finishes explaining.

“i’m making dinner, and it needs onions, and... they’re not working with me.” there’s a half cut onion behind him to prove his point. you let out a long breath and loop your arms around peter’s neck. you’re relieved and annoyed at the same time. “you little drama queen. making me so worried over what?” peter pouts and holds you by your hips. “hey, don’t hate the cook. hate the food.”

“it is really sweet of you to make dinner. all on your own, too. thanks, pete,” you grin and peck his lips in appreciation. he kisses your cheek with a smile of his own. “aw, you’re welcome. i’ll never do it again.”

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine

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greekowl87 · 5 years ago

Note

From the kiss prompts #19: Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.

A/N: I am so, so sorry it took so super duper long to answer this prompt. Post ep “The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati” with a blooming MSR taking the relationship to the next level. Also, pure fluff. @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved

P.S. Sorry for the typos; no beta.

In the dim light coming from his bathroom, Scully sat on the edge of Mulder’s bed and watched him sleep. His eyes darted beneath closed eyes, dreaming. She gently touched his brow, feeling the scratchy gauze beneath her fingertips. His lips moved wordlessly and his face frowned as if in a nightmare. She could see Mulder’s lips forming her name, calling out to her silently over and over again.

Over the past few weeks, she had mastered changing the bandage around without waking him, but this time, she simply removed it as he quietly called out for her. His surgical scars had held enough without any long term damage. She continued to watch him. His hands flexed as if trying to grasp for something. She took his hand and kissed his cheek. He relaxed slightly, almost sensing her presence.

“Scully,” he called.

“I’m here,” she murmured, “open your eyes.”

Mulder did as she requested. His eyes squinted at the intrusion of the bathroom light. The light haloed around her, making his partner look like an angel. “Did I die and go to heaven?”

“Depends on your definition of heaven,” she whispered softly, “but you won’t die. Or didn’t. That much I’m sure of. Sit up for me so we can get that bandage off.”

He sat up on his forearms and she shook her head again, helping him sit all the way up and rest against his headboard. “What time is it?”

“Shortly after seven a.m. It is Saturday. The weather is going to be rainy all day so I figured what better excuse than to come by to check on my favorite patient.”

He winced slightly as she unfurled the bandage with practiced ease. “Did you bring food?”

“I thought I would cook for you this morning or we could do it together,” she said. “It’ll be fun.”

This thing was new between them. After she had rescued him from the bowels of some unknown DOD building after botched brain surgery. She came by daily, often spending the weekends with him, while he healed. “Know what would be fun?” He murmured, squinting his eyes. “Not having to wear that bandage today.”

She snorted and gently inspected his head. “I think we could do that today.”

“Good. Am I allowed to shower by myself too, Dr. Scully?”

“As long as you don’t fall. Do you think you can do that, Agent Mulder?”

He chuckled and nodded. Deciding to catch her off guard, he cupped her cheek gently and gave her a morning kiss. “Good morning.”

She snorted in amusement. “Stop distracting me and go take your shower.”

Mulder smiled. Aside from his most recent near-death experience, this new thing between him and Scully was his most favorite thing. She disappeared from his bedroom and he felt his cheeks warm. Mulder got out of bed to take a quick shower and change into something a bit more casual.

Scully disappeared back out to his apartment. She could hear the shower turning on and could swear she could also hear him ‘Walking on Sunshine’ off-key. She bit her lip and smiled to herself. Despite her initial confusion on where to turn, she recalled Mulder’s words…his touchstone, his constant…and for the first time in their seven years, she had never been happier. Granted his situation warranted that they stay slow with their new development, but it wouldn’t be their thing if it didn’t go slow.

Before Scully had come there this morning, she had stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things including a half dozen eggs, frozen hash browns, and orange juice. As his shower continued, she hunted through his cabinets for his coffee but instead settled on the tea caddy he kept just for her. She found his small steel kettle, filled it, and put it on the back of a small burner. As that heated, she rummaged through the cabinets and found what she needed: a skillet and bowl for the eggs. She was so focused on her task that she failed to notice Mulder come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissing her softly.

Scully didn’t jump at the new intrusion but leaned back against him. “You’re distracting me again,” she murmured.

“It doesn’t look like you complaining,” he said. His hands rested on the curves of her hips. “What’s up, Doc?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Tea to start with.”

“Couldn’t find the coffee?”

He was already inspecting the kettle, placing his hand on the side of it. “It’s not hot yet! If you want something to do, Mulder, then crack these eggs!” She playfully swatted him away. “I was just about to start the hash browns.”

“Peppers and onions?”

“You know it.” He hummed in approval and Scully took this moment to break away, giggling as she did. “Make yourself useful, Mulder.”

He opened his antiqued fridge and dropped a pack of bacon and cheese onto the counter. “Good for you,” she smiled sarcastically. “You provided food! Do you want bacon in your eggs.”

“On the side.”

“Make yourself useful, Mulder,” she chided him. “Either cook the hash browns or crack the eggs.”

“Bossy,” he replied in a sing-song voice. “Remind me to tell you never to practice medicine.”

She heard him take the plastic bowl from her and she chose that moment to inspect his head. The haphazard haircut the Syndicate gave him made his hair stick out at all ends. Personally, she liked the spiky hair being a new constant. He hissed in surprise as she cupped his face, her fingertips tracing the new scars. “I don’t want you to bandage your head for the next 48 hours,” she told him.

“Do I meet inspection, Dr. Scully?” He bent forward and kissed her again. “Well?”

She burst into a fit of laughter. “Mulder! Stop distracting me!”

“I’m not distracting you!”

“I beg to differ.” She hummed, satisfied with his progress. “Anyways, get those eggs cracking.”

He moved his mouth, soundless mocking her. “I’m fine,” he promised. “No need to worry.”

“Are you sure? Do you want something to drink?”

“Stop being a mother hen,” he admonished her. He reached under the sink and pulled out his trash can. “I can crack a few eggs. And no, I’m fine. I think there is some orange juice your mom brought me.”

“When was my mother here?”

“On Tuesday while you were at the office. I told her she didn’t have to but she’s a lot like you in that respect.”

Scully laughed as she took out a bag of frozen potatoes from a grocery bag and dumped them into a skillet with butter. Mulder paused his egg breaking, wiped his hands on his jeans, and sneaked up behind her. His arms went around her waist, and taking advantage of their height difference, rested his chin on top of her head. Scully rolled her eyes and continued to prepare the frozen potatoes with Mulder still attached to her. “Not working, Mulder. And don’t annoy your doctor.”

His musical laughter echoed in his small brick kitchen and he kissed the top of her head, whispering, “I can’t wait till I get my doctor’s a-okay for extracurricular activities.”

“We’ve done…stuff.”

“Oral actives do not count. I am going to have my way with you…”

Some of the potatoes flipped out the skillet. “Mulder! Stop distracting me!”

“Not sorry. What else did you bring?”

“Bacon. But go through your fridge and get me what you want for the eggs.”

“Omelets?”

“Scrambled surprise. I may be skilled with my hands but omelet flipping is beyond my talents.”

“If you want omelets, I can do it,” he supplied. “You can cook the bacon. I’m still surprised you got it by the way.”

“I thought I would treat my patient.” Mulder chuckled and kissed the crook of her neck. “Is has these seven years have done to us? You can’t stop kissing me?”

“I love you too much, Scully. Besides, my goal is also to be distracting.”

“Well, you’re succeeding in your goal.”

Mulder went to his aged fridge and produced a bell pepper, onion, and spinach (which Scully raised her trademark eyebrow for). He chopped the rest of the ingredients as Scully finished the potatoes and stuck them in the oven to keep the bowl warm. She moved over to the next burner as he put two new skillets on there. She took the larger of the two and deftly started cooking the bacon while Mulder began their omelets. As they stood side by side cooking breakfast, he bumped his hip against hers. “Seems familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Like what?”

“We’re going over evidence…”

“For breakfast. Nice try, Romeo. Get cooking.”

He shook his head as they both began the bacon and the omelets. Twenty minutes later and one minor burn, they had two plates of fried potatoes, omelets, and bacon. They sat on his worn leather couch with their plates on the coffee table. She arched her eyebrow at him and asked, “Why can’t we use your dining room table?”

“It’s for stuff. Besides, don’t you feel more comfortable this way?” He waggled his eyebrows. “We can put on a movie.”

“I get to pick.”

Scully selected a classic, Alien. They wandered their way through breakfast, the plates were pushed and stacked to the edge of the coffee table, and Scully found herself lounging against Mulder as Ripley began to kick ass. He kissed her brow as she pulled down the Aztec blanket. “You know, I have this fantasy as you as Ripley,” he whispered.

“I don’t get along with cats,” she whispered back.

“I know.” He wrapped his arm securely around her. His mind flashed back over the past few weeks. He knew she loved him and he was certain she loved him. Somehow, watching old sci-fi movies over breakfast with distracting kisses was becoming more appealing than chasing aliens. He just had to show her.

#prompt #asked and answered #xfiles #xf fic #txf #txf fic #msr #msr fic #post ep #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #secret season of sex

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samsexualdeancurious · 5 years ago

Text

Accidental Happiness | Part Two

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 3,035

Summary: Sams being overprotective and Y/N decides on a midwife.

Warnings: Pregnancy, non-graphic description of labor.

Betaed by @manawhaat. Written for @saxxxology's October Angel request.

---

You pause at the top of the kitchen steps, rubbing your palm against your belly, and then move to start down the two steps.

“Hey, hey, let me help you.”

You can’t help an eye roll as Sam appears at your side, one hand on your back and the other hand on your elbow as he helps you down into the kitchen.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asks, already steering you towards the nearest seat. “Here, sit down. I’ll make you something for lunch.”

You sink into the kitchen chair, more than happy to get off your aching feet. You’re only just starting to really look pregnant at going on five months but you’re definitely feeling it. At least the morning sickness is over. Now you’re getting into craving territory, though you haven’t been craving anything too strange - no pickles in ice cream or whatever weird shit people joke about pregnant women wanting. You know Sam wouldn’t stop you from satisfying those cravings if you had them, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. While you love your boyfriend to death, he’s taking ‘protective father-to-be’ to a whole new level.

“You need to eat more veggies,” Sam is saying, rummaging through the fridge in search of something to make for you. “And of course we don’t have any.”

“That’s because you keep feeding them all to me,” you grumble. “I want a burger. With cheese. And bacon. And fries.”

Sam makes a face. “But you need good, healthy meals. Lots of leafy greens, lean proteins, you know. If you’re craving red meat ‘cause it has iron or something, why not just eat spinach?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been telling me for months.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you, emerging from the freezer with a triumphant sound and a package of frozen salmon in one hand. You groan at the sight and he drops the fish onto the counter, rushing to your side.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, crouching beside you with one hand on your belly.

“Will you stop fucking touching my stomach?” you growl, knocking his hand away.

Sam flinches back with an expression like a kicked puppy and you immediately feel bad.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just don’t want to be touched like that right now.”

Sam flushes, rising. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

You reach out one hand to grab his closest one. “Sam, baby. I love you but right now I also want to kick your ass.”

“I just want you and the baby to be healthy,” he murmurs.

You tug him down so you can kiss him softly. He braces his free hand against the kitchen table and returns the kiss. “I know and I love that about you. But I also would love it if you gave me a little room to breathe. I’m not made of glass. I can get down two steps on my own. I can walk across the kitchen on my own. You don’t have to hover over me every moment of every day.”

He starts to speak but you silence him with another kiss.

“You’re just stressing yourself out. I will let you know when I need help,” you promise him. “And one burger, cooked through, with some cheese, fresh lettuce and tomato, a few slices of bacon, and a healthy serving of fries isn’t going to do me or the baby any harm. I’m even willing to eat a salad on the side if you want to throw one together. Maybe something with Italian dressing?”

“We don’t have any of the veggies I would need,” Sam says quietly.

“Well,” you pat his cheek. “I don’t think we have any of the things for burgers, either. Sounds like you need to go grocery shopping. Have Dean go with you. Take your time. Go find a used bookstore, play a round of pool, something to get you out of the house for more than thirty minutes. Then go grocery shopping and come home so Dean can make me one of those delicious burgers.”

Sam hesitates and then nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll be fine here with Cas and Rowena?”

“You know I will be. Cas is too excited about being an uncle to let anything happen to me and Rowena wouldn’t dare, not if she wants to still have access to the library.”

He chuckles, straightening up. “Good point. Make me a grocery list, then.”

“Go get me something to write it on,” you respond, poking his hip.

“I thought you weren’t made of glass,” he teases even as he moves to fetch the notepad and pen Dean keeps by the fridge for grocery lists.

“Listen. My feet hurt.” You take the items from him. “Now that I’m sitting down, I’m not getting up until I have to.”

“Which means until you need to pee.”

You shake the pen at him. “Whose fault is that?”

He leans gently against your back, folding over you to see the list as you write it. “Last time I checked, it takes two to tango.”

“You’re the one with the super swimmers that beat my birth control.”

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” Dean grumbles as he enters the kitchen, making a face.

“If you don’t know how babies are made, that’s not my fault,” you shoot back, grinning as you finish off your list. “I’ve got a chore for you boys.”

You tear the list off the notepad and hold it up. Sam moves to take it but Dean gets there first.

"Groceries?" he whines.

"I want one of your burgers and we don't have any of the shit we need."

"Mmm burgers," Dean says, more to himself than anyone else as he leaves the kitchen.

"You're sure you'll be fine?" Sam asks, leaning down to kiss you one last time.

"I'm sure." You give his ass a smack. "Go get some air, and then come home and rub my feet.”

Sam laughs. “Deal.”

Eventually, you drag yourself to your feet and make your way down the hall to the bathroom, gently scolding your baby for sitting on your bladder. It’s as you’re sitting on the toilet that you realize you haven’t felt the baby kick in a while, which is really abnormal considered how active they’ve been since you were first able to feel them. You wrack your brains as you wash your hands, trying to remember when you last felt the baby and quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t know.

Your stomach twists at the thought and you hurry to the library, calling for Cas. You only find Rowena, though.

“Where’s Cas?” you ask, trying to remain calm.

“No idea,” she says, glancing up from the book she’s buried her nose in. Her bag sits next to her on the table, open to reveal a variety of spell ingredients. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate to trust Rowena with something like this but Cas is going to insist on calling Sam and you don’t want to worry Sam if it turns out to not be anything serious. That makes Rowena your best option.

“I can’t feel the baby,” you manage, curling your arms around your belly.

She immediately drops her book, rounding the table to guide you into a seat. “Oh, goodness. That’s always stressful. Here, sit. When did you feel the wee one last?”

You shrug, watching as she rummages through her bag. “I don’t know.”

“That’s quite all right,” she soothes, tossing a little of this and that into her mortar before grinding everything into a paste. “Lift your shirt a little, please. I need to draw a sigil on your skin in order to check on the baby.”

“And this is safe?” you ask, already lifting your shirt to reveal your belly.

“Perfectly safe,” she assures you, carefully drawing the sigil onto your skin just above your belly button. The paste is a little cold and you can’t help a shiver. “This is an old spell midwives have been using for centuries. I used it myself many a time when I was carrying Fergus.”

She finishes the sigil and wipes her hands clean on a cloth she pulls from somewhere in her bag. Then she lays her palms on either side of your belly and says a few words in a language you don’t recognize. The sigil glows purple and Rowena is silent a moment, concentrating on whatever the spell is doing. Then she draws a deep breath and straightens up, the glow of the sigil fading as soon as her hands leave your skin.

“Your baby is perfectly healthy,” she says with a soft smile. “Just sleeping.”

Relief floods your body as she gently wipes the sigil away and you slump a little in your chair. Of course the baby’s sleeping. Babies do that.

“Thank you,” you say, pulling your shirt down.

“It was nothing,” Rowena replies with a soft smile. “I’m more than happy to help an expecting mother. It’s been a long time since I was able to use my midwifery skills.”

“You were a midwife?”

Rowena pauses in cleaning up the spell ingredients. “I’ve taken that role several times over the centuries. I quite enjoy it and if I could do it permanently, I would. But it’s better to leave at least a few decades between. Keep people from being suspicious and all that.”

You nod. “That makes sense.”

The two of you settle into silence, Rowena cleaning and you watching while your mind rolls over this new information and you come to a decision.

“Rowena?”

She glances over at you. “Yes?”

“Will you be my midwife?”

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam says through gritted teeth, dragging you into the hall outside the library. “She’s a witch!”

“A witch with several centuries of midwife experience,” you explain, fighting to keep calm despite your annoyance with Sam.

“So she says,” he snaps back. “We can’t trust her.”

“You’ve trusted her in the past!”

Sam tenses and there’s a moment where his gaze on you softens but it's only a moment. “I can’t trust her with this, Y/N. With you. And with them.”

With understanding eyes cast up at him, you can’t hold your tongue, no matter how sweet Sam’s objection is. “Don’t you think this is something I should have the final say in?”

“It’s our baby,” he sneers, all too possessive for something he can’t even touch, yet.

You stab him in the chest with one finger. “Yes, but they’re living in my body. I want Rowena as my midwife.”

His jaw clenches and he steps back, glaring down at you. “And if I say no?”

You return his angry glare. “You can’t, Sam. I’m doing this. Your choice is whether you’re going to be there for the birth of our child, or not.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and he takes another few steps away, clearly putting distance between the two of you and the emotions he’s clinging to.

He mouths your name and you know what he’s feeling - you know Sam. He’s terrified of the possible complications that you could run into in labor, in a hospital, let alone with a centuries-old witch overseeing things at home. You’re scared of those things, too. But you know what scares Sam the most is that the look in your eyes means you’re serious. If he walks away, you will do this without him.

“Okay, he sighs, voice weak but growing stronger as he approaches again. “Okay. It’s your decision and I’ll respect it. I don’t like it, but I’ll respect it.”

You lay your hands on Sam’s waist. “Thank you.”

He nods stiffly. “Yeah.”

You sigh and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Sam. I’m not doing this to make you upset. She really does know what she’s talking about and I feel safe with her. Plus, this means we can have the home birth I wanted.”

“I know,” Sam admits.

You smile and bring his hands up to press flat against your belly. “Give her a chance? For us?”

Sam’s expression softens as his thumbs stroke back and forth. The baby shifts to kick at his hands, pulling a smile to Sam’s face. “Anything for you,” he says quietly, kissing your forehead.

“Anything?” you lift a playful eyebrow at him.

“Anything,” he repeats.

“Good because I want a foot massage while Dean makes dinner.”

Sam chuckles but allows you to lead him down the hall to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t even complain when you choose a really flowery-scented lotion for him to use, just pulls your feet into his lap and gets to work.

If you’re going to be honest, you decide as you lay back against a pile of pillows, you could definitely get used to this.

Rowena is a dedicated midwife. Sam is still wary of her but he relaxes when he sees how comfortable she makes you, how attentive she is to the needs of both you and the baby. She teams up with him in making you eat a healthy diet but is willing to take your side when you’re craving something that’s not on the list of recommended foods. She introduces you to the wonders of red raspberry leaf tea. When she mentioned raspberries, you were excited to try it, but you were soon disappointed to discover it to be more of a green tea than a fruit one. Still good but not as good as plain raspberry tea would be.

With her help, the final months of your pregnancy are slightly easier to handle. She’s there to answer any questions you or Sam have, which lowers your stress levels immensely. Possibly the best thing she does, though, is show Sam all the ways to massage your aching body and actually make things feel better. Sam’s a quick learner and his hands are magical. So magical, in fact, that you almost don't notice you're in labor. Almost.

"Fucking hell," you grumble, rolling your neck when Sam stops rubbing your lower back. Nothing quite like a massage to get you ready for bed - though you're still aching. "I don't know why I've been so sore. It's worse than it was yesterday."

Sam frowns and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Want me to go get Rowena?"

You shake your head, tugging on one of Sam's shirts. “I'll talk to her if I'm still hurting in the morning. I’m just,” you sigh, “really fucking uncomfortable.”

Sam nuzzles softly into the curve of your neck. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late and she’s probably already in bed. I don’t want to bother her. Lemme up, I need to pee before we go to bed."

Sam pouts but lets go and you get up. You only make it two steps, though, before you feel what can only be described as a slight pop and then a small gush of liquid escapes your body. At that moment, everything - the discomfort and pain in your lower belly and back, the pressure on your pelvis - makes sense.

“Sam?” you say softly, reaching behind you blindly until you find his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Hmm?”

“Maybe you should go get Rowena.”

He’s immediately on his feet, come around to grip your shoulders with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with what you hope is a smile full of excitement and nervousness, but is really a grimace full of terror. “My water just broke.”

Rowena is by your side in minutes, bag in hand. She gives Sam a list of things to gather for her. He looks grateful to have something to do. Things develop slowly from there - much slower than you expected - and it isn’t until over a day later that things really start to pick up and you go into what Rowena calls active labor. Rowena and Sam are by your side through it all and when the time finally comes to push seven hours later, Rowena is there guiding you with her soft voice and Sam providing his hands for you to cling to. You know you’ll feel bad about cussing him out later but in the moment, the words are therapeutic.

After a total of about thirty-two hours of labor, including the time you were in labor but didn’t realize it, the room is filled with the angry cries of your brand new baby girl.

“Oh,” you breath when Rowena places her right on your chest, umbilical cord still attached. You’re naked except for some sheets, having ditched your clothes sometime earlier because they were drenched in sweat, and the press of your baby’s skin against your own sends a surge of warmth through your body and happy tears leaking from your eyes. She settles immediately once you offer her a nipple to nurse at. It takes a moment for you to get the angle right and for her to latch on properly, but once she does, you’re filled with a maternal instinct you never knew could be so strong.“Hi, little one,” you murmur as Rowena works around your hands to clean her up. “Hi.” You’d planned for either a boy or a girl after deciding you didn’t want to find out until the birth, and now, looking at her, you know the name Sam picked is perfect.

Sam is watching in awe. He shifts to sit next to you on the bed, one arm around your shoulders as he tentatively reaches the other hand out to brush his fingertips over her cheek.

“Hi,” he says, voice trembling a little. “Welcome to the world, Rose.”

When you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes. “Sam?”

He sniffs and presses his cheek to the top of your head. “I just… I never thought I would get to have this. You, her. A home, a family. And now she’s here and we weren’t even trying to have her, but she’s perfect.” He squeezes your shoulders, drawing a deep breath. “Everything is perfect.”

You smile, fresh tears dotting your cheeks as you stroke Rose’s fuzzy head and lean into Sam’s embrace. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

---

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—

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#sam x reader #spn fanfic #my writing

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peaches-of-1 · 6 years ago

Text

Day 10 | On Tip Toes

Black!Reader x Dad!Namjoon

An excited dark tan little human woke up to their own inner clock and looks around. Mama or Dad must’ve brought them in here after they fell asleep on the couch. Either way, the young girl knew what day it was and excitedly climbed down the pipe like ladder.

She had wanted them painted like the candles in the Kwanzaa display on the special table, but Mama had never gotten to it. Mama was a busy woman and--

Wait, what’s this? There was a camera in the corner of the room. Ah, them again. It was Christmas Day, so of course the aunties and uncles came to visit and set up the cameras while they slept. Sparkling white teeth showed off to the camera and a small hand waved before the roundest face in the world turned to see its only match.

She quickly used her tiny feet to walk towards a face similar to her’s and kneel on the step before the doorway beneath the dark gray sign that read “SANTA’S WORKSHOP” in English and tapped a shirt covered in candy patterns.

“별자리, Byeol-iiiii. Wake up! Our grown up friends are here.” She notified her twin sister just like any good sibling would. “And it’s Christmas.”

Hazel eyes suddenly sprung open, “Is it really Christmas?”

A stern nod before adorable yawns left 초승달’s mouth and soon two 3 year old bodies were fully awake to make a heart for the cameras like they usually did when are red carpets with their parents. Then they changed the date on their “color by day” calendar and began to hop around in their pajamas.

“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” they were just as excitable as their parents for the holidays.

The two girls then opened their sliding door before holding hands and walking to their parents’ room down the hallway, knowing they were asleep but also oh so ready to wake them up to spend the day together.

However, they got distracted by the white lights that had fallen from the hallway as RapMon trotted beside them. The dog sat next to the wall and let the children enact their little plan before they continued on their way.

The uncle in the green tent decorated like a Christmas tree tried not to laugh too loud as he was the only one at the right angle to see this.

Dark skin and hair in a green bonnet was held closely by tan skin with dimpled cheeks that were even more noticeable as husband opened brown eyes when wife got wiggly. A parental Spidey Sense of sorts went off in both adults as she turned to face him.

“What time is it?” I asked in a groggy voice as a farewell to all the sleep I would’ve gotten if it were not for being a mother as well.

“Not yet. Pretend they’re still asleep for a few minutes, ok?” Large and protective hands enveloped slightly smaller ones and rubbed the back of them, the gentle touch almost willing slumber into his spouse’s eyes.

I suppressed a yawn before ignoring the door being opened by two giggling little elves. The door was always unlocked in case of emergency such as an early morning boo boo or a nightmare in the late evening. This was neither, thankfully. Simply two of the cutest little girls on the planet launching themselves onto Mama’s and Papa’s soft embrace.

The usual morning tradition of a four person hug and kisses for everyone ensued. Mom to Byeol, Byeol to Choseungdal, Choseungdal to Dad, and then Dad to mom before it reversed. Cross over and then the kids were excited and bouncing up and down once more.

“Mama, Papa! Mama! Papa! Guess what? Guess what?!” The twins said, jumping on the bed and claiming the hug of a parent for themselves.

“What is it?” Idol and father Kim Namjoon asked.

Byeol spoke up, “It’s Christmas morning! We get to open presents now, right?”

Choseungdal looked from her sister’s face to her father’s, “I really wanna open the big red one!”

I gasped in an overexaggerated way, “A gift before breakfast, isn’t our hug enough?”

“No.” She said, honestly.

“Fair enough.” I replied with a giggle while my husband laughed.

Then he spoke up, “Alright, let’s open a present then, shall we? One before breakfast and then we get all~ cleaned up to eat Mama’s yummy food, ok?”

“Ok!” They replied

“Wait, Choseungdal.” Byeol said, “We have to show Mama and Papa how we decorated RapMon this time.”

The parents blinked and shared a look. This time? They decorated him again? They literally pulled us into the living room to see the white fluffy dog sparkle with glittering Christmas lights. So that was what you heard in the middle of the night. You had decided to ignore it since you had believed it to be a sound from whatever dream you had been having.

And he was just there smiling like a goofball. Namjoon said that they shouldn’t do stuff like that because it could hurt the dog, and he was too nice to do anything about it. It was a light scolding and more of a teaching moment because no one wanted any sad faces on Christmas. As my husband and I unwrapped RapMon,, Byeol-ie decided to go around and greet all of the aunties and uncles.

They were in Christmas themed tents to help make the young kids more comfortable. The crew of The Return of Superman always came around every once in a while, and it was usually the same ones unless someone was sick or quit or got fired, y’know. Choseungdal had taken a liking to one unnie in particular.

She kissed Camera Unnie on the cheek to greet her while shyly waving to the others. The twins had gained personalities rather quickly according to the family counselor we went to see. Byeoljali...had a more outgoing personality and would often speak up for Choseungdal who was rather non verbal. I had a suspicion that she was like me, and so we were always extra clear in instruction and repeated stuff a lot to make it easier for her to understand.

Byeol was Byeoljali’s nickname. We named her as such since she had light hazel almost amber eyes. Choseungdal was often shortened to Cho-ie.

They were both cheeky sweethearts, though. Both girls enjoyed creative things, so the crafts room sometimes took over the living room. Currently, the girls were not allowed to use rhinestones because it had taken nearly a whole day to get all of them out of RapMon’s fur. The older dog understood that they were only little and they had apologized in the form of treats, so he wasn’t mad.

My two girls sat down after picking out which gift they wanted and I was there with my own camera to take pictures of them opening up their gifts. Luckily, they had similar hobbies, so gifts were easy.

“On three, start ripping them open.” I said. “Ask Dad for help if you need it.”

“Appa!” Cho-ie said. “Help me, please.”

He chuckled and went to sit in between them just in case. I counted to three, and the box opening began. Byeoljali began to open up the gift with raptor like swiftness while Cheoseungdal made sure it was unfolded properly with hardly any rips. Yep, we literally had a moon child. How could we not?

Our love for space and the unknown was mutual, and celestial names were so beautiful.

Cho-ie had gotten a collection of new canvases with a custom easel since the other one was missing a few pieces now. That’s why it was so big: the easel had been set up top of the canvases and already put together.

She hugged her dad and thanked us. Byeol had revealed a new set of paints that included glitter glue too. Maybe it wouldn’t get everywhere if they were in some sort of adhesive already...or it would be harder to get off of furniture. Only time would tell. She sprinted to hug my legs and then did grabby hands for the phone so she could record us.

She didn’t have the best hand-eye coordination or grasp, so I said that our darlings didn’t need to take pictures of us since we already had other adults to do it for us. I just didn’t want another broken phone. Namjoon had gotten us matching chokers that we would surely be wearing out today.

I hugged him and kissed him on his lips, excited to see his expression when he got his gift from me. He opened the bag and gasped, almost in tears as he lifted out the headphones he had been yearning over for the past four months. My husband has said he wouldn’t get them since he didn’t need them and they were too expensive anyways.

He hugged me tightly. Then it was time for coloring the picture of the day while I made breakfast. Namjoon had prepared some stuff last night while I helped get the kids to bed which made cooking much easier. In fact, he had finished making the entire fruit salad and it was wrapped in the fridge.

“Thank you, yeobo! That saves so much time!” I called over to him.

Namjoon just smiled, “It’s my pleasure. I was extra careful too, so no hurt fingers this time.”

I giggled and Christmas music played while I cooked and The Return of Superman got footage for their Holiday Special. My voice sang along as I filled pie crusts with a mix of rice, spinach, and cheese before sticking the first batch into the oven for ~18 minutes. Although he tried very hard, Namjoon-yeobo was still a bit of a hazard in the kitchen. He mixed things very well, though.

Like the vegetables that would become part of our omelettes. I still wasn’t a big fan of omelettes, so I would just be making three for my husband and kids. Also, I knew two of the crew didn’t eat eggs. So a total of five. I glanced over into the living room and saw him handing the girls whatever color they asked for.

Every time he got it wrong, he would say, “I’m sorry, my princess.” and then give them the right one eventually. He soon came over to show me a pictue of our girls in front of their finished mini Christmas tree in their playroom. He took it yesterday and forgot to show me.

It was so cute. All of the eggs were done, so you cut two of them in half as soon as the timer went off for the breakfast pockets. I gave them a quick call to ask if they washed their hands after coloring. The three looked at each other and ran to the bathroom as I set up the plates and washed my own hands.

I looked at the camera people who were in tents, “What are you waiting for? I didn’t make this much food just for the four of us. Use the one in the guest bedroom.”

They were so surprised and decided to take turns to make sure at least two were recording while the others ate. However, they were family at this point and this was a family breakfast. All of them were to sit at the table and enjoy the homemade meal.

I told them that if their boss had a problem, they could bring it up to me directly. I was a child of four, so I knew how to make a lot of food in a short amount of time and still have it taste good. I had even made a few pockets without cheese because a few were lactose intolerant.

Then everyone was ready to dig in. Namjoon made sure that the two elven twinsies thanked me for the meal before eating. It was a very warm breakfast. It was lots of chatter but still quiet and kind. Choseungdal made sure to feed Camera Unnie a few times, getting a thank you in return. Then it was time for me to clean up while my love got the girls cleaned up, getting them to brush their teeth and all that jazz.

The camera people went back into their tents while one stood in the bathroom doorway to record.

Since Joon was an idol, he was usually very busy doing TV shows and making music and all that stuff. So, he got to spend most of the time directly helping the kids on his days off.

Once the dishes were in the dishwasher (the first Christmas gift we bought together) and Cho-ie was in her little Christmas dress, I started on making the cookie dough with the mini sous chef. Both Byeoljali and Cheoseungdal were adamant about bringing cookies to Taehyung’s holiday party. He and his huge family held one every single year, and we always attended.

My apple cake was always a hit, so I was bringing that. However, the kids wanted to do something too. I was glad to have the extra help in making cookies. It was a good distraction while Namjoon got ready first. He’d do their hair and pack up the cookies when it was my turn. The apple cake was a family recipe from this cookbook we’ve had since forever. I was stumped five years ago as to what to make since I had been bringing boozy eggnog the last couple of years before everyone started having kids.

Ever since then, I’d make two cakes just so we would have enough. Namjoon always bought eggnog or vanilla ice cream to go along with it. Every year had a theme, and this time it was pearls. I had found the perfect skirt for it and was able to get two of them. The second one were made into child versions for the young ones if they wanted.

“I’m gonna decorate this one all by myself.” Choseungdal said, grabbing the white makeshift piping bag and adding “snow” to the already frosted Christmas tree.

Byeol was decorating a snowman with edible glitter before Namjoon came in to swap places in the kid duty.

“Why don’t we let Mama finish up the rest of these so she can take a shower?” He said and the kids agreed, getting tired of decorating but not eating as the kitchen smelled of butterscotch and chocolate with a hint of gingerbread.

So, I finished up the rest of the cookies and was able to decorate them after they cooled and surprised them with an extra cookie for them each before heading into the shower to get all dolled up. I loved matching with my family so much! It was something we did often.

Namjoon had put on his black pants with pearls scattered about the legs and green oxfords with pearls in the heels. Pearls also lined his black velvet jacket that went over his green sweater. He put on the more simple looking choker out of the set he had just watched me unwrap meaning I got the bowtie one. He was also wearing his red beanie because he knew how much I loved him in it with a simple pair of gold and pearl drop earrings.

I was in my black skirt that reached just above my ankles with my red sweater tucked into it but outside of the green stockings I slipped on to make walking in my pearl adorned red ankle boots easier. With the pearl and bowtie choker, I put on pearl and chain dangle earrings. I decided to wear a green beret as well.

“Don’t forget this, Mama!” It’s the gift me and Choseungdal got you.

“Oh, really? Thank you~” I said and opened the box, smiling when I saw it was a classic Pandora bracelet.

My hazel eyed girl said, “We helped Dad pick out the charms to go on it.”

Then we turned to our kids and asked them what we did most every day, “Who do you want to dress like, Mommy or Daddy?” which basically was asking if they wanted to dress more masculinely or femininely. I was a girly girl most of the time and Joon-ie was more laid back but still well dressed as most Korean men seemed to be.

Choseungdal pointed to her father while Byeol pointed to me. That was that then. Namjoon helped our little girl into matching pearl pants and jacket with a green knitted sweater underneath while I helped our other little girl into her skirt and stockings with a red sweater that was covered in pom poms that were used to make hearts all about the top. Then we helped put them each into pearl studs that they had worn before.

Namjoon did their hair while I finished up my makeup and we double checked to make sure RapMon was ready to come with. He was by the door waiting for his leash like a good doggo.

“Good boy.” I said and rubbed his head.

The five of us hopped into the car, singing Christmas carols and watching Papa Joon get shy every time a song he sang with the other BTS uncles came on. Sometimes he’ll say which ones he helped to right and we’d talk about that while he two Christmas fairies played make believe in the back seat.

“Hiiii!” I said with two apple cakes in my arms while The two youngest ones held boxes of cookies.

Hugs upon hugs and bows galore occurred while talking overlapped in the forms of greetings and barking. J-Hope’s husband helped me take the cakes to the kitchen while Jin called for the host and his wife.

The children played with their friends while I was handed some sparkling cider by Yoongi, whose facial hair scratched my cheek a little as he hugged me.

“Long time no see.” He said.

“Oh my god! You’re back from America? Since when?” I gasped.

“Two days ago. I wanted to surprise you guys.”

Namjoon chuckled, “Well, it worked. I’m surprised.” and hugged his dear friend tightly.

He had been working on a bunch of stuff in America for the past couple of years and usually sent gifts for the holidays. A young man with raven black hair and pale skin approached both me and Namjoon and bowed.

“It is nice to see you in person, uncle Namjoon and auntie Y/N. Father has told me a lot about you two.” He had to be about 13 and…

I gasped and looked at Yoongi and back to the kid, “You can’t be 시우. The 시우 I know is this tall, and you’re a whole tree.” I put my hand near my hip.

He giggled nearly at eye level with me, “I am 시우.”

“Oh my gosh~” I beamed. “Well, it’s nice to see you again. What have you been up to? How’s school and your hobbies?”

“I got in a bit of trouble recently, but school is going well. I kept skipping one of my classes since the teacher is super ignorant. He is my history teacher and tried to incorrectly explain the Joseon area to me. I always show up for test days, though.”

Namjoon chuckled, “It seems that righteous rebellion doesn’t fall far from the tree.” and took a sip of his own cider.

Siu chuckled, “I have to choose an extra elective to do outside of school if I don’t want to be suspended, but I’m not really a creative guy.” he pulled at his ear like Yoongi did when nervous.

His father spoke up, “Your auntie here is a pretty famous actress.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say famous.” I replied, my cheeks getting warm.

“Would you suggest I take acting? It is the only one I have seriously been thinking of doing.” Siu looked up at me with his deep blue eyes that he got from his nameless mother.

I had to nod, of course, “Stage acting is a very good skill to have. Although you’re not lacking any confidence, it can help you feel a bit more comfortable in public spaces. Keeps you accountable too. You have to learn your lines or you let the cast down. More importantly, it is a lot of fun.”

He nodded. Namjoon kissed my cheek and said he was going to check on the kids while I continued my conversation with the young teen. I enjoyed telling my theatre stories, but I am sure Joon was tired of hearing them over and over again.

Namjoon walked into a curious scene of nearly 10 children sacrificing his moonchild who was tied up with a jumprope to the side of a bookcase like contraption. He could just stare at the kids in various wigs and holiday clothing reenacting something.

Hoseok entered asking, “Why did it suddenly get so qui--”

Taehyung’s second youngest child came in with a bucket of water which Namjoon scooped out of their hands rather quickly, too in shock to say anything.

“What’s going on?” Hobi asked instead.

“Daaaaddd, we’re reenacting Uncle TaeTae’s TV show.” A darling little kid with blonde pigtails reached for the bucket of water. “We need the water to splash on Choseungdal’s faaaceeee. It’s her punishment for fighting on sacred ground.”

The brown haired father shook his head and Namjoon silently walked back to the bathroom to pour the water out while his hyung told the children to use fake water and their imagination instead of real water and to make sure the jump rope wasn’t too tight.

Not exactly the type of parenting the dirty blonde man was hoping for, but as long as they were safe, it was ok. He then recorded the children’s antics for a while to show Taehyung.

Although, it was another Hwarang member that he saw kissing his wife on the cheek.. Do Jihan and her had won favorite TV Couple nearly every year for the past 10, even that time he played a stalker. So the three knew each other well.

“Jihan-hyung, it is nice to see you again.” Joon slapped his friend’s back, making his wife giggle at the facial reaction.

“Ah, yes. Ouch. I’m doing well.”

Y/N giggled, her teeth like marshmallows on top of hot chocolate and Namjoon wanting to sip every last drop of her. Taehyung lifted her up and spun her around all of a sudden.

“You guys are here! I’m so sorry it took me so long to come see you. I was finishing up something for my daughter.” and then set his friend’s wife down.

She kissed him and his wife on the cheek before they hugged Namjoon. The older man had hopped things wouldn’t be as awkward this year since Tae was married to Joon’s ex girlfriend, but she was an awkward girl. She wasn’t sure if it was ok to hug him or if it was better to bow or just shake hands.

“지현,” I begged, “Please, just hug him or bow. It’s not that deep, fam.”

The three men laughed at how straightforward I was. It was like this every year since Tae got together with Jihyeon, and I was sick of it. I could not care less that she was an ex to my husband.

Jihan put his arm on one of my shoulders, “That is why you are my favorite co-worker.”

I laughed and asked how the kids were doing, not expecting my husband to show me and the others our kids playing “Hwarang” since the youngest ones were now learning how to read and Tae’s children were natural thespians.

“I need to sit down.” I said as soon as it was time to open presents.

The cookies and the cake were hits, and I had my fill of the food that was there. Gifts and friends were amazing. Whatever troubles we had been having throughout the year and were still probably were going on could wait until next year a week from now. Right now, it was time for an outing to the park for the boys’ performance.

It was a medley of all the title tracks they had done throughout the years with the last one being done by the kids that weren’t too grumpy. The boys were idols after all, not even fully disbanding or retiring, just not performing as often as a group.

Jungkook and Jimin with their spouses revealed that they were going to have their first children soon. Jin’s 10 year old asked if she could name the baby, making everyone laugh before it was time to pack everyone up into cars and head to the park.

Namjoon squeezed my hand, “Our kids will be fine. You will do a great job, and I will be there to help you as soon as possible.”

I nodded and he kissed me before going off to perform for his fans. Some older than me and some younger. I was there with the other spouses talking and momentarily checking on the kids who were being watched by the older children. Siu was the second oldest to Jin’s triplets, two girls and one guy who made 14 this year.

When the boys were on stage, it felt like I was 20 again, staying up late nights to watch them on award shows and festivals in the states due to the 15 hour time difference. Sometimes it was like that even when Namjoon and I were dating.

Now I was much older with two of his kids, Cho-ie sleeping on my shoulder and Byeol-ie in my lap. They would wake up soon because this song was their song.

“To my children” Suga and Namjoon said.

“Yeah.”

“To my stars and my moon. To my children.” Namjoon continued.

“Yeah.”

“I hope that I’ll see you soon. Your dad loves you no matter how far away and every time I look up at the sky I know you’re looking at the same one, same sun, same moon, same star, same love. Love you. Be home soon, ya don’t give mom too much trouble.”

He wrote a song years ago that was a B-side that got more popular than the title tracks. By that time, Jin already had his kids. Hobi and his husband had adopted their first child. Yoongi was back in the states for this comeback while 11 year old Siu was being raised by his nanny for a bit since the mom left after stealing several things and dumping the child on him.

서준, 민서, and 윤서 said that the children were ready for the stage and got the point choreo down as good as possible. My little elves woke up and yawned, ready to show off their skills. Both of them had gone after the microphone and the paintbrush on their first birthday, and it was no surprise that fate had decided they would be in the arts.

Choseungdal said in her small voice, “I don’t wanna dance today.”

“It’s ok. Do you still wanna go on stage, though?”

She nodded and held onto me as we brought 13 kids on stage to help close out the holiday concert in the park. Everyone went wild as several of them had on noise cancelling headphones since they couldn’t keep their eyes open so long.

The others danced and sang along with their dads having a grand old time. Byeol-ie ended up being carried by Namjoon while I had Cho-ie in my arms. Looking out at all the faces that loved my husband and their father, I recognized a few who had been with them since the beginning. They had kids too now.

In the car ride back home, our little elves had tinkered themselves out and were fast asleep with RapMon by their feet. I was exhausted as well, knowing the crew of The Return to Superman crew would be back tomorrow for Kwanzaa and the cameras would still be there.

Namjoon took one hand off of the wheel to hold my hand, causing my attention to turn from the hypnotizing city lights that passed by to the comforting fingers rubbing the back of my hand.

“Thank you so much for being the mother to my children. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”

I smiled and kissed his hand, making him smile and scrunch his nose, “Merry Christmas, yeobo.”

He giggled, “Merry Christmas, yeobo.”

28 notes · View notes

gosetmind · 6 years ago

Text

20 Diet Success Tips

Dieting is not easy. If it were, we would probably all be thin. Since we are not, here are some tips that successful people use to lose weight so that others can benefit, too.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 1: DRINK 8-10 GLASSES OF WATER EACH DAY

Okay, for many people this is a big problem. Water doesn't taste all that great generally because water doesn't really taste like anything. Drinking water 8 to 10 times each day gets easier the more you actually do it. It is simply a matter of conditioning your taste buds, and yourself, so that it becomes easier to do. Once you get started, you will begin to crave water.

To begin with, you should drink a glass of water in the morning first thing, before you eat. This is probably the easiest glass you will drink all day and it will help you remember to drink water all day long. Better yet, why not drink two glasses?

If you really cannot bear the taste of water, try using a water purifying pitcher or filter. You can also add a few drops of lemon or lime to your water but no sugar or sweetener! Ice also helps.

Check out flavored waters on the market, too. Just keep an eye out for additives.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 2: EAT BREAKFAST

Do not skip breakfast. If you need to go to bed a little earlier so that you can get up 20 minutes earlier each morning do it! Breakfast is so important to your good health and to weight control. According to Dr. Barbara Rolls a professor of nutrition at Penn State University, "Your metabolism slows while you sleep, and it doesn't rev back up until you eat again."

Eating breakfast is not only good for overall weight loss, it will help you stay on track with your diet the rest of the day. You are more likely to binge on something sweet and in the bread group if you skip breakfast.

You can always keep a couple of hard-boiled eggs in the fridge or some high-fiber, low starch fruit around. If you plan to eat fruit at all during the day, breakfast is the perfect time to do it.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 3: EAT AT LEAST 3 MEALS AND 2 SNACKS EACH DAY

This can be one of the hardest adjustments to make. After all, you are busy! You already have a full-plate. When do you have time to worry about filling your plate with more frequent meals?

Just like eating breakfast will increase your metabolism, so will eating more often. This will also help you curb your bad-carb intake by making sure that your snacks are planned and occur regularly throughout the day.

Really, it will just take a minimal investment of planning time at the grocery store and at home each morning before you head out for the day to make some healthy food choices and prepare a few healthy snacks and meals. For suggestions, just see the handy list of snacks and appetizers listed later.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 4: AVOID WHITE FOODS

This is one easy way to remember what not to eat. If it is made from sugar, flour, potatoes, rice or corn - just say no. Remembering this rule of thumb will make it easier to recognize those rice cakes as an unhealthy high-carb snack.

Always look for colorful fruits and veggies to substitute for the white ones. Buy broccoli, lettuce, bell peppers, green beans and peas, brown rice in moderation, leafy greens like kale and spinach, apples, melons, oranges and grapes.

These foods are not only colorful they are also high in fiber, nutrients and important antioxidants. Eating colorful fruits and vegetables will give your diet variety as well as give you added health benefits.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 5: EAT YOUR VEGGIES

It is so easy to use a low-carb diet as an excuse for poor nutrition. Resist this temptation. If the only vegetable you have eaten in the last 5 years has been the potato, now is a good time to begin experimenting with other vegetables. This is important for your overall health and to avoid some nasty side effects of not getting enough fiber in your diet.

If you try hard enough, you will find vegetables that you enjoy eating. Experiment with grilling veggies and cooking with real butter to add flavor. You can also search for new recipes on the Internet or in cookbooks.

Remember, if you are only eating 40 grams of carb a day or less, two cups of plain salad greens contain only about 5 grams of carbohydrate. You have no excuse not to eat your veggies.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 6: PREPARE YOUR OWN FOOD AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE

While more and more restaurants are offering low-carb friendly menu items, many of them are still not ideal low-carb fare. There are many recipes for quick and easy meals that you can prepare yourself at home. Try to do this as often as possible.

If you cook your own foods, you know exactly what the contents are and you will be able to better control for hidden sugar and otherwise processed foods.

Another benefit is the cost savings over the long run. Even if you must go to the grocery store more often, you will save a significant amount per meal as opposed to eating at restaurants and fast food establishments.

It will also be easier to maintain your diet with your own favorite fresh food selections on hand.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 7: INVEST IN A GOOD SET OF FOOD STORAGE CONTAINERS

Having food storage containers of various sizes on hand will make it so much easier for you to plan your meals and snacks. When you buy nuts, fruits and vegetables in bulk you can simply prepare, separate and store them for easy use later.

For instance, you can pre-slice your apples and snack on them over several days. Simply cut them, rinse them in pineapple or lemon juice and store. This will make a quick and easy snack for later.

Fix your lunch and take it with you to work. Better yet, fix your lunch and 2 snacks for work.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 8: EAT SOME PROTIEN AT EACH MEAL & AS A SNACK

In addition to everything that's been discussed before, eating protein helps you burn more calories. Jeff Hample, Ph.D., R.D., a spokesman for the American Dietetic Association says that, "Protein is made up mainly of amino acids, which are harder for your body to breakdown, so you burn more calories getting rid of them.

Just think eating a protein rich snack can help you lose weight. How about a few slices of turkey or ham or some string cheese?

Eating protein will also help you feel full so that you are less likely to crave unhealthy snacks.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 9: DRINK A GLASS OF WATER AFTER EACH SNACK

This will help you get in your 8 to 10 glasses of water each day but it can also have other benefits. Ever feel hungry after eating a handful or standard serving of nuts? Try drinking water afterwards. The water will help you feel full and prevent overindulgence.

Drinking water after a snack will also help remove the aftertaste from your mouth and can help curb your desire for more.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 10: EAT SLOWLY & ENJOY YOUR FOOD

You will feel full and more satisfied if you take the time to savor your food and chew it slower. Don't get in the habit of eating while standing or eating quickly. Sit down and chew.

Eating slower will help you enjoy your food more, pay attention to what it is you are actually eating and get a better sense of when you are actually full.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 11: EAT YOUR LARGER MEALS EARLY AND SMALLER MEALS LATER

You will feel better and lose weight quicker if you eat a large breakfast and eat a smaller dinner. You may also want to eat the majority of your carbs earlier in the day, saving a salad and lean meat protein for dinner.

Eating larger meals during the part of the day when you are most active will help you to feel satisfied throughout the day and curb cravings for unhealthy snacks.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 12: CONSIDER EATING SALMON OR MACKREL FOR BREAKFAST

Yes this may seem odd, but it is one way to work in Omega-3 fatty acids that are good for you and add some variety to your daily diet. After a few months you may tire of eating eggs and bacon for breakfast. Substituting fish will give you the protein and healthy fish oils you need.

You can try canned salmon or mackerel in croquettes for a healthier sausage substitute. Or you could simply eat cold leftover salmon the next morning with dill sauce.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 13: USE LETTUCE LEAVES INSTEAD OF BREAD

This tip can seem a bit odd at first but if you try it you will probably grow to love it. Instead of eating breads and buns with your sandwiches and hamburgers, why not try leaves of lettuce?

You can make a double cheeseburger with onions, pickles and tomato wrapped in a whole lettuce leaf. Or you can make tasty wrap sandwiches with lettuce instead of tortilla and bread.

This will help increase your good carb and fiber intake while giving you more variety in your diet.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 14: EAT A FRUIT DESSERT

Okay, we all want a little dessert sometime, but how do you have your dessert and your low-carb diet too? Why not try cheese with fruit slices or berries? Better yet, why not try cream with berries? You could even try sweet pineapples or strawberries with cottage cheese?

Berries are sweet and high in fiber and nutrients and dairy products are high in protein. If your low-carb plan will allow it, this is a sweet and tasty alternative to more sugary desserts.

An added benefit is that the protein in the dairy products and the fiber in the fresh fruit will make these desserts more filling.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 15: GET YOUR FRUIT FRESH NOT SQUEEZED

Fruit juice can be very tempting as a replacement for soda, but just how healthy is fruit juice? If you read the labels you will soon realize that in many of the commercial juices available at your local grocery store there is very little actual fruit juice.

What you will find is lots of sugar water and other ingredients. Why not skip the juice altogether and eat a fresh piece of fruit? Not only does fresh fruit contain less sugar than juice, fresh fruit has fiber that is good for you and will help you feel fuller longer.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 16: GO EASY ON THE MEAL REPLACEMENTS

New meal replacement shakes and bars go on the market almost every day. These shakes and bars may claim to be healthy, but almost all of them, even the Zone Perfect bars, contain hydrogenated oil and sweeteners.

So be careful. The bars especially may be only slightly healthier than a Snickers candy bar. Occasionally, they may not be that bad for you but as a rule you probably don't want to indulge in a meal replacement shake or bar every day.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 17: IF IT SOUNDS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE IT PROBABLY IS

Low carb doughnuts and muffins? You can find these prepackaged low-carb labeled goods at your neighborhood grocery store and at many low-carb lifestyle specialty shops. That does not mean that you should make a habit out of eating them.

While low-carb pastries may be tempting remember that they still contain all of the usual carbohydrate suspects: sugar or a sugar substitute and flour.

They may be healthier than your typical muffin as an occasional treat, but remember to stick with the basics for continued low-carb success.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 18: AT THE GROCERY STORE ?SHOP THE OUTER AISLES

It will be easier to stick with your low-carb lifestyle if you learn the one common thread in all grocery store designs: the healthy foods are on the perimeter aisles.

Think about it, when you go into the grocery all of the healthy stuff, fruits, vegetables, meats, and dairy products are arranged around the stores walls. You only rarely need to enter the center aisle areas in those few stores that stock butter and cheese in the center near the frozen foods. For the most part all of the foods that you need for your low carb diet can be found on the perimeter of the grocery store.

Train yourself to start on one end of the outer aisle and work your way around. It will be much easier to avoid carb cravings and fill your basket with healthy items if you do so.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 19: INVEST IN GOOD COOKBOOKS

Can抰 figure out what to eat? Need some variety in your diet? Turn to a cookbook. Granted, not all recipes in a cookbook are low-carb fare, but you will be surprised at the number of low-carb and low-carb friendly recipes you can find in your standard Betty Crocker Cookbook.

Cookbooks are great reference tools that often contain handy tips on purchasing cuts of meat and preparing meats, fruits and vegetables in new and exciting ways.

Plus, new low-carb cookbooks are hitting the shelves all the time. So be sure to take advantage of these resources to try something new, different and delicious.

SUCCESS TIP NO. 20: TAKE A GOOD MULTIVITAMIN

We can't all do it right all of the time. Even the most conscientious food combiner may miss some healthy vitamins, minerals and trace elements in their diets. To help make sure you get everything that you need, consider taking a good multivitamin.

Check with your doctor first for recommendations and you should be tested for anemia to see if you need a vitamin with iron. However, the longer you eat low-carb and the more red meat you eat, the less anemia will be a problem and you should be able to take vitamins with less iron.

Your success is totally up to you. Assuming that you are an otherwise healthy individual, your body will do its part. Just remember to adhere to the low-carb diet plan that is right for you and add some variety to your meals to help you stay faithful to your health and weight loss goals.

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boogiewrites · 7 years ago

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A Girl Walks Into A Bar 2

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella (OFC)

Word Count: 3600+

Summary: Frontier Modern AU. Declan is a bar owner and local urban legend with a reputation he’d like to leave in the past. Bella is a rough around the edges, low key sweetheart that isn’t from his part of town. After meeting with the help of some bad luck and perhaps a touch of fate, how far will their undeniable chemistry take them until their histories catch up with them?

Warnings/Tags: Language.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You lay in your bed for over an hour looking at your phone. You weren't surprised you were having trouble sleeping, the two of you were very old and close friends at this point. With there being a man you barely knew in your living room, just on the other side of the wall you were staring at, you were even less surprised you couldn't sleep.

So you kick off your covers and move quietly to your door, your feet in thick knee socks, wearing leggings and a pulling a large hoodie over you before you click open your door. You peak your head around the corner of the wall, trying not to be obvious.

He's sound asleep, looking entirely unbothered and you found it comforting in a way. At least he felt safe around you, that was something. What you'd give to be able to fall asleep in a strangers house without reservation. But if you looked like him you'd be scared of less too. It's not like you'd learned to defend yourself and worked out just for the vanity of it, after all. From the intimidating vibe the men outside the bar were giving you, you're guessing that he looked the way he did for many of the same reasons.

You see you haven't woken him and when a small snore and grunt make their appearance your nerves ease as you see he has no intention of doing anything besides sleeping and he's apparently doing well in his endeavors currently. You rest your hip against the doorway, watching him.

The night is biting cold, you can feel it creeping into the house from the window, the heater balancing out the warmth of the room. You can see him in the warm orange glow of the light of it, his relaxed face looks soft, despite the hair that covered it and the scar marking his brow. He looked hard but not menacing, which seems like a very difficult thing to achieve for a man looking the way he did. You wouldn't deny he was handsome, how could you? It was the heat that rose to your face when your eyes first met that made you admit it to yourself. You were working on trying to admit when you found a man attractive, having learned too many lessons the hard way in your youth, you now found it hard to trust men. Well, hard to trust just about anyone. You'd buried yourself in your hobbies which turned into a career, keeping your head low, focusing on yourself and being independent of your past. Perhaps you needed to start working on a new phase of accepting new people into your life. This polite and kind man seemed like a decent place to start. His friendship would even come with a bar, and thus even more new people to meet. You weren't sure if you were ready to make new friends, but a part of you knew that you would never be fully ready and perhaps the universe was intervening, making you walk into that bar yesterday to give you a push in a new direction.

You eventually fall asleep, telling yourself this Declan Harp wasn't going to kill you, he wasn't going to try anything in the middle of the night and you eventually grew tired, meditating to tell yourself it was okay to relax enough to fall asleep. And eventually, you did.

You wake up to your work alarm and you groan, smacking at the phone in annoyance. Work? No. Not today. Not after yesterday, not with this snow. You call Karen and tell you aren't coming in. She doesn't seem surprised in the least. Apparently, the weather was bad where she was too, there'd already been cancellations on appointments today so she wasn't worried, it's not like you missed work often anyway.

You still didn't hey nearly enough sleep, but you were used to functioning at this capacity. At just before nine you creak your door open, peaking out just the same as the night before, but now you could see a lamp was on. He'd already put up the bed, bless him, sitting snuggly on the couch with a blanket over him, scrolling through his phone.

You move into his view, running your fingers through your sleep-tousled hair before stretching and tugging back down your hoodie.

"Mornin' Bells." his voice is deep and gritty and sounds like honey being poured over whiskey stones looks. You let out an involuntary grunt as it hits your ears, clearing your throat to cover your reaction.

"Morning, Dec." you grumble, another yawn coming as you walk slowly into the kitchen. You figure if he can already manipulate your name, that you could do that same to his. He doesn't seem to mind as you can feel him watching you walk by.

He doesn't mind the nickname, but he's actually gotten distracted by how you look this morning. It having been dark in the bar and through the night, and you wearing layers he didn't get a close look at you. But now, sunlight in through the frosty panes he couldn't help but follow your lower half as you stomped sleepily across the room. Seeing a clearly strong thickness in your thighs that rested under an ass of the same description, just peaking out from beneath the bottom of your hoodie. "I didn't keep you waiting too long did I?" you say a little louder, your own voice deep and slow from sleep still.

"Nah." you hear groaned as the couch makes a similar noise as he rises.

"Not been up even thirty minutes. Just checking my phone out of habit." he shrugs, but you don't see it, pushing his phone into his pocket, wearing a tank top that you guessed was under his t-shirt from last night and his jeans.

"Mmmph." you nod in response, hearing him walk into the kitchen. "Want breakfast?" you ask, your eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly.

"After those sandwiches last night I'd be an idiot to say no."

"Mmm." your lips purse as you rest your hands on the counter, leaning against it. "Flattery, huh?" you let out a low rumbling chuckle. "This early?" you quirk your head at him.

"You warned me you'd be mean this morning..." he raises a brow and you know he's being a wonderfully intuitive person, making sure he defused any situation before it even started.

You give him a closed mouth smile. "So you're smart too, huh?" you finally give a laugh, another low rumble from your chest as you move to the fridge.

"My actions would usually speak against that." he grins, looking down at the wooden floor. "But I won't turn down a compliment." his head shakes slightly, his hair moving back and forth over his face as it hangs down.

"Breakfast burrito alright?" you ask, looking at the contents of the fridge and finding yourself not wanting to make anything from scratch.

"Fuck yeah. Sure." his voice is full of amusement and more than a bit of hunger.

You lean into the freezer, picking the pre-made burritos out of their container, all individually wrapped, part of your meal prep you tried to keep up with. "Big boy like you'll eat two I imagine." an amused smile on your lips as you push the buttons on the toaster oven to heat them up. "You make these too?" his voice sounds impressed.

"Yeah, I like to make them ahead of time. Easy to grab before I go work out in the mornings."

"Ah. Makes sense." he gives a thoughtful nod, finally moving from his position of leaning on the doorway to the table. "What's in 'em?" he asks, chin in his hand, watching you move about the kitchen, starting the coffee.

"Uhh...lots of veggies." you nod. "Eggs, goat cheese, bell peppers, mushrooms, spinach, pork sausage, some salsa." you name off things as you back and forth from the counters on opposite sides of the room, one with your coffee, tea and appliances, the other with the stove, toaster oven and sink, the fridge sitting daunting between the two, cabinets on either side of it.

"Sounds almost healthy." he laughs, still low and easy going, rumbling around his chest before escaping from his smiling lips.

"Could be a lot worse." you nod and sit a glass of water in front of him, sitting in the chair closest to him at the round table that took up one half of the kitchen. You look out the double patios doors for a moment, your fenced in backyard covered in deep snow. "I figure...with as much as I drink sometimes, and my tendency to eat really unhealthy greasy junk food late at night, I can try to eat well the rest of the time." you look over to him and shrug, rising when the coffee pot beeps.

"Not a bad approach. I feel like somedays I only work out because I eat so much." he laughs at himself, chin still in his hand as his eyes follow you.

"Can't relate." you laugh with a shake of your head. You make your coffee, setting it on the table. "How ya take it?"

"Fuck it, just black this morning." you give a stern nod and comply.

"Take your coffee much like yourself." you chuckle to yourself, his brow furrows in amused question at you as you sit down. "Straightforward. Dark. Strong." you let out a laugh, your nose wrinkling as you take a sip.

"What's your's say then?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow.

You hum in thought, looking into your mug. "Bitter base with enough artificial sweetener to make it tolerable." you let out the first shoulder-shaking laugh of the day.

A grin spreads across his face. "I heard artificial sweetener is bad for you, you know." he says with no scolding, still teasing you.

"Alright, mom." you chuckle into your mug. "I'll be sure to add my emotional shortcomings to my list of things to work on. Try for more raw sugar and less aspartame." you smirk.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean it like that." you can see his posture stiffen.

"Don't worry Declan, no offense taken." you shake your head and give him a genuinely warm smile that eases his nerves. "Stick around me long enough you'll start to understand my fucked up sense of humor. I'm always like this." you grin at yourself, standing to get the burritos from the small oven after it dings.

You slide the plate in front of him, just as last night he doesn't hesitate to attack your offering. "So you meal prep...and you said you work out..." he says between bites." Do you do competitions or anything like that?" he asks.

You grin as he makes contented noises as he eats. "Oh, no." you laugh. "I just like lifting weights. I like being strong." you nod, taking a bite yourself now. "You clearly workout, you do competitions?"

He laughs, a mouthful of food before forgetting his manners. "Nah." he shakes his head. "Kind've comes with the tough guy territory," he explains with a slight shrug. "Bar owner, ex-member of a biker gang. People try to start shit with me a lot." he rolls his eyes.

"Makes sense." you add to show you're listening. "Ex biker? I didn't think they let people out of those things?"

"Well these guys did. After all the shit I've done for them, sorry, all the shit I still do for them, " he chuckles, "You tell them you want out, they listen." his eyebrows raise with his explanation. So he certainly seemed to be someone you wouldn't want to fuck with and his words back up this theory. He was becoming more and more intriguing the more he spoke. "I saw the vests and patches on the guys out front that gave me a hard time, I was hoping I wasn't going to walk in and someone tries to make me ride bitch with them." you joke.

"Oh ignore them." he moves his hand dismissively. "They like to act all tough but they won't give you any trouble. Not with me around anyway. One of them so much as insults you, you let me know. I'll set 'em straight." he gives you a friendly wink.

"What if I'd rather set them straight myself?" you grin.

"Well if you think you can take them, go for it babe." he chuckles, "I won't stop ya."

"They behave better when you're around?"

"Yeah. They know I don't want all the violent bullshit in my bar. Not like I can totally avoid it, kind've comes with the territory. We get too much flack as is with stereotypes. Don't want to attract the wrong kind of people ya know? I don't' want to deal with that bullshit anymore."

"Very smart and professional of you." you say supportively.

"Can I get that in writing? You do reviews?" he laughs, finishing his burritos. Taking down two in the time it took you to eat one.

"The Trading Post. 5 stars. Personal chauffeur service. Personal attention and great fuckin' music. If you love the smell of years of liquor being spilled into old wood floors, you've found your new local." you let out a slight giggle.

He opens his mouth to retaliate against your comments.

"That was all meant to be a compliment." you push your chin into your chest.

"Ah, I see." he nods slowly. "Good thing you came in then, wouldn't want to lose you to one of those gentrified gastro pub's that keep popping up."

"Now my friend Charlotte, that's more her scene," you explain, taking the plates to the sink. "She took me to one once, not my style." you shake your head, "I like dives. I like age and grit and rough around the edges. Dark and rugged...that's more my style."

You turn to face him, he's already standing, stretching and letting out a roar of a groan as he does so. You can't help but notice the line of skin exposed from the raising of his shirt, warm tan skin with a light dusting of hair that you blink rapidly to forget. Don't go getting distracted by a nice body, that's never done anyone a bit of good. Even though this body seemed to have a good brain inside it, you'd wait to hold judgment until you'd known the man at least 24 hours.

You look at the clock on the wall as he smacks his lips and rubs his neck.

"Salt truck should've ran by now. Let's see the verdict, shall we?" you shrug and walk past him to the window in the living room. "Good news!" you lilt, turning quickly to let him know the roads were salted but he's already towering over you, peaking out of the curtains above your head. Jesus, he was tall. You bet he was around a foot taller than you and you can't help but feel physically intimidated standing in his shadow. Who would be stupid enough to mess with this guy?

"House arrest over." he laughs.

"Salt trucks ran, sun's out, you've got four-wheel drive...you should make your break to freedom before another front moves in." you look up at him with big blinking eyes, he meets them with a warm smile, seeming to study your face for a moment before moving to the couch to grab his t-shirt.

"You need a ride anywhere?" he asks, pulling on his boots.

"Thanks but no." you shake your head. "I'm not going anywhere today." you frown but not in a sad way as you move to the front door.

"Well...in case you do..." he says, leaning over the small desk in the hallway by the door, scribbling down something. "There's my number. The buses suck shit in my part of town so don't think you're gonna be bothering me."

"Written down instead of texted. Old fashioned. I like it." you give him an approving nod. You pull your phone from your pocket, entering in the number and texting him your name. He puts on his coat, seeing the numerous locks on your front door, trying not to be obvious as he thought about why'd you have so many. Three deadbolts seemed a bit much but...you were a woman who lived alone.

"I'm not as cool as you so I just texted it to you." you shrug.

He flicks the screen with his thumb. "Bella Fiore." he grins. "So that other half is Italian huh?" That explains the olive complexion and dark hair he thought. He'd known you were half Irish but only the light freckles on your cheeks that he could see now that you weren't wearing makeup, and your green eyes gave any illusion to the heritage.

"Afraid so." you grin.

"Well..." he lowers his head almost as if he were bowing. "Thank you, for letting me stay. For real. And you fed me...twice! So I owe you." he chuckles. He brings you in for an unexpected hug, but you certainly weren't going to fight him. You'd seen him do the same to the girl the night before so you still don't feel like he's being forward with you.

"Just repaying you for dealing with and taking care of my drunk ass last night." you say, noticing that distinctly masculine smell that's unique to every man, his being particularly pleasant to your senses as your fae rests on the soft leather of his coat.

He let's go, an inviting smile on his lips as he looks down at you. "I don't get many people as cool as you coming into the bar so don't be a stranger, alright?"

"And miss out on more of that Ale? Don't be stupid, Declan." you give him the same kinda smile back before unlocking the door and opening it for him. "You be careful!" you say loudly, holding your hand over your eyes to shield it from the white reflecting off the snow-covered street. He waves before getting in his truck to leave and you watch him depart from the living room window.

The house felt oddly empty now. "Oh hello baby." you coo as Robert appears, rubbing against your ankles. "Got distracted feeding someone else and left you out huh?" you baby talk him, scratching under his chin as you carry him to the kitchen. He meows and purrs, not seeming to be angry about it.

So you feed the cat and place the heater back in your room. You sit on the edge of the bed, wondering how to spend your unexpected day off. You figure you'll check in with Charlotte, your oldest and best friend.

"Hello?" you hear the usual weariness in her voice, having just had a baby.

"Hey mama." you try to sound cheerful to offset her exhaustion.

"Hey." you hear her yawn.

"Didn't wake you up did it?"

"Ugh, no. I've not been to sleep."

"Sam being a booger still?"

"He's not stopped since conception." she hums in amusement at herself.

"I had a great night and I thought you might want to hear about it."

"Please. Yes. Let me pretend I'm not covered in spit up and breast milk and that I've showered in the past two days. because I have a life still."

She had been living vicariously through you as of late. It had been the other way around previously. She'd found a banker, a nice enough dude to marry her and those were all things that felt not in the cards for you. Rich guys she tried to set you up with just really didn't seem down with what you were offering, but then again, you weren't really looking to be anyone's wife. You'd agree to a blind date and it'd end amicably but there'd never been any follow-up. Rough around the edges was a polite phrase you'd heard one too many times now to describe yourself.

"Well I went to a new bar, I'll have to take you eventually, it's rustic and strangely endearing." you pick at the cat hair that's gathered on your hoodie from where you carried Robert around. "And I met this really nice guy."

"You're kidding." she says flatly.

"Nope. He even stayed the night last night." you say suggestively, purposely leading her on and she bites the bait hook, line and sinker.

"HE WHAT?!" she shouts. You hear the baby start crying. "Oops." she says in a tone that shows she's only disappointed with herself. ------- Declan arrives back at the bar, Mike's already there dealing with deliveries.

"Back late I see." his eyebrows raise as he looks down on a clipboard.

"Got snowed in." he gruffs out.

"Mmmm Hmmm. Yeah, sure ya did." he chuckles.

"I very literally did." he responds flatly.

"And how was the girl? What was her name again?"

"Bella." he says, a small smile on his face as he takes his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the back room.

"Ah. Bella. Pretty name for a pretty girl." he says, checking off his list. "And how did Miss Bella treat ya last night Mr. Harp?" he grins.

"Nothing happened that would warrant that tone being used." he shoves his shoulder as he passes him with a chuckle, moving over to a pile of boxes.

"If nothing happened then how was she? Not had a woman we didn't already know in this bar for ages. You two seemed to get along really well, actually." he inquires.

"She's..." he pauses, a tilt of his head in thought. " She's really nice actually. And cool." his eyes narrow in thought.

"Oh goodness, nice and cool? Such aggressive descriptors from you about a woman." Mike cackles.

"Shut up Mike." he grunts, still grinning to himself as he lifting the boxes to carry to the walk-in fridge.

@vale0413

#Declan Harp #Frontier #Declan Harp AU #Frontier AU #Jason Momoa #Declan Harp fan fiction #declan harp fic #declan harp fanfic #declan harp fan fic #frontier fan fiction #frontier fic #frontier fanfic #frontier fan fic #declan harp x reader #declan harp x ofc #Frontier fandom

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missmarj · 7 years ago

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If You Are But A Dream

I took a break from all the sad and angsty drafts i'm working on because my lord, my poor Steve has been going through so much in How Do I Let You Go. So here's fluff for y'all.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; mentions of Sam and Bucky as per usual. (my holy trinity)

Warnings: None, just a little cute make out scene and a whole lotta fluff.

Summary: Days off meant seeing Steve in your favorite state, carefree and relaxed. It gave you the chance to marvel at him from a far. You thought it would be just like any other Sunday morning, but boy, were you wrong.

A smile stretches your lips as you watch Steve sketch by the window. He sits on the floor in the common room in his tank top, pyjamas and bed head, legs crossed, his big toe swaying in tune with the old song playing through the speakers, a small bit of his tongue trapped between his plump lips in concentration as his hand glides over his sketchbook. You burn the image in your mind, happily storing away this rare picture of Steve Rogers relaxed, carefree.

You've always wished the man happiness and peace because he truly deserves it. His golden heart and bravery is often taken for granted by the very world he desperately tries to save. He had been through so much, lost a big part of who he his and sacrificed pretty much everything he had for a world that did not deserve him. Sometimes, Steve is just too good to be true, like he's just a figment of someone's imagination and it scared you to even blink in fear you'll awake from such a beautiful dream. All you want to do is shower him with love and keep him safe.

He senses your presence and he looks up at you, flashing you such breathtaking smile that your heart swell. "Good morning, Y/n." he greets.

"Morning Cap, sorry I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm heading for the kitchen, do you want me to grab you anything?" you ask. Steve pursed his lips to think for a second then picks up his things. "Actually, I'm getting kind of hungry. I'll come with you." You chuckle, nodding as he walks with you then asked, "So am I cooking or are you?" Steve playfully bumped your body with his then looked at you from the side. "You're the better cook, Y/n. Can you make one of those egg dish with sausage and cheese you were eating the other day?" when you turn, you saw Steve was blushing. "I saw you eating the last few pieces remaining on your plate when I walked in on you on the common room and it honestly looked and smelled so good." he admits, eyes closing as he remembers the smell.

You laugh, nodding your head in recognition. "Fritata? Sure. You could've told me you wanted some, Cap." Steve gave you a one shoulder shrug with a sheepish grin. "I didn't want to trouble you." You roll your eyes and snort. "Please Steve, you could never." As you make your way over the counter, Steve's lips broke into an ear to ear grin.

"Can I help?" he asks as you take out the ingredients you need from the fridge and things you will utilize from the cabinets. You turn to him and wave him off. "No, just sit there and relax. Go finish your sketch." you suggested as you put on the apron. "Yes ma'am." he chuckles, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

You both work in comfortable silence, a blush creeping in your cheeks every time Steve caught you glancing at him. His smiles are really something, you thought to yourself. You look up and commented, "I love the songs you're playing today, Friday." after you put the pan in the oven. The AI's voice sounded together with Frank Sinatra's All Through the Day saying, "It's Captain Rogers' playlist." your brows raised as you turn to Steve. He is blushing as he asks, "You like it? The other guys usually don't. Tony and Natasha teases me about it." he rolls his eyes. "I love it." you say, and meant it.

Steve practically jumped off his seat as you take the pan out of the oven, biting his lip as he watch you plate it, looking over your shoulder. "Y/n, that looks so good." he murmurs, eyes glistening. God if cooking a simple dish like this makes him happy, then you just might actually attend cooking classes if that meant putting a smile on Steve's beautiful face every time.

You sit across each other and he took a bite almost instantly. You open your mouth to warn him, worried he might burn his tongue but his eyes drifted close and his lips formed a grin as he chews. He makes a sound in his throat that made you blush. "It tastes better than I imagined." he says, making you laugh. You both sit in peace in the cool Sunday morning, eating good food and listening to Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra.

"Thank you, Y/n." he says after finishing his meal. You shake your head, laughter escaping your lips as you reached over the table to wipe off a baby spinach bit sticking on the side of his lower lip. Steve swallows hard, his eyes dancing across your eyes and lips. "You've got.. something in your- there!" you giggle, showing your thumb to him with the guilty baby spinach sticking on it. Steve chuckles then gripped your wrist, he leaned forward and put your finger in between his lips without hesitation, cleaning it off. His eyes never leave yours and your breath hitched, the feel of his soft lips in your finger tip dissolving every coherent thought on your mind.

Steve got up from his seat, leaning forward across the table. You watch him lean closer and closer until your eyes flutter close. Next thing you know, his lips was pressed against yours. Gentle and sweet, warm and damp. You open your eyes only to see him looking right at you. You feel him smile against the kiss and you did too. He pulls away just enough to lean his forehead against yours, a face splitting grin on his face. "If you do that everytime I cook for you, then consider the rest of your life's meals cooked by me." you say breathlessly, biting your lower lip.

Steve sits back down on his seat and pulled you across the table by the wrist he was still holding. The smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes makes you blush crimson as you crawl across the table. Steve sat you on his lap and you cross your ankles behind his slim waist. He holds your face and bites his lower lip, "I would love that. Can this happen? Please?" You acted like you thought about it for a second then shrugged, "It can. But you've got to take me out on dates from time to time, Captain." You feel his chest rumbles in your palms as he laughs. "Agreed." Steve nods, cocking his head to the side to kiss you again, deeper this time. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." You giggle and pull away as you ask, "Yeah? How long?" Steve recaptures your lips leaning forward to trap you between his body and the table. "Far too long, my Y/n." he murmurs then sighed happily.

"What the hell is happening in here??" you both jump as Sam's voice suddenly fill the kitchen. Bucky rolls his eyes, casually walking to the fridge completely unphased by the position you and Steve were in at the moment unlike Sam. "Isn't obvious, Birdbrain? Rogers finally grew a pair and won the girl over." Bucky winks at Steve as he drinks a glass of water. Steve groans and burries his face on the crook of your neck thinking about all the teasing that awaits you and him.

Tags: @berruneko09 @lookclosernow @yafriendlyfangirl @m-a-t-91 @kaylaphantomhive @whooolemilk @sanne-kijani @rainbowkisses31

#steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #fluff #imagine #one shot #fan fiction #bucky barnes #sam wilson #avengers #marvel #missmarj writes

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thelastspeecher · 7 years ago

Note

West coast tech au - Angie takes Ford to do some grocery shopping because the guy always has his nose in a book?

Day 01 Day 02 Day 03 Day 04 Day 05 Day 06 Day 07 Day 08Day 09 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20 Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24Day 25 Day 26 Day 27 Day 28 Day 29 Day 30

For reference, once Ford and Angie go to grad school, they move off campus and rent a house together with Stan. Angie, being a sensible young woman with a good head on her shoulders, knows how to adult. Ford, being Ford, does not. So here’s Angie, three months after renting a house with the Stans, finding out the extent to which that her good friend lacks adult skills.

Word count: 1280

“Stanford?” Ford looked up from the latest issue of Scientific American. Angie was standing in the entryway to the livingroom, looking at him with a bemused expression.

“Yes?” he asked, setting down themagazine.

“Uh, did ya go grocery shoppin’like I asked ya?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then where are all the groceries?”Angie asked.

“I put them away.”

“Would ya mind showin’ me whereya put ‘em away?”

“Sure.” Ford got up and followed Angie to thekitchen. He opened the fridge. “See?”

“Okay, um.” Angie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Does the fridge look anything like what itdoes when I go shopping?”

“…No.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But I bought everything we need!”

“No. No, you didn’t.”

“I got milk and eggs,” Ford protested,gesturing towards the carton and gallon sitting on the top shelf. “And cheese, and meat, and produce.”

“You got a package of hot dogs. One package. Three people live in this house! Yer brother alone could finish what you bought! And the cheese?” Angie strode forward. She grabbed the package of Americansingles. “Stanford! I know yer not exactly a gourmand, but comeon! Do ya really consider this cheese?”

“I also bought cheddar.”

“Yes.” Angie looked at the chunk of cheese sittingnext to the eggs. “One block. We don’t have a cheese cutter or grater.”

“We have knives.”

“Lord.” Angie rubbed her forehead. “And the produce? I don’t see it in the crisper drawer.”

“They’re on the counter.” Ford closed the fridge door. He pointed at the food resting next to themicrowave. “They weren’t refrigerated inthe store, so-”

“They should still berefrigerated. They won’t expire ‘causeya didn’t put ‘em in the fridge, but they will go bad faster,” Angie said. She looked over at the counter. “Two tangerines. And a single avocado.” Angie threw her hands in the air. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

“Guacamole.”

“With one avocado?”

“Look, I feel like you’re beingrather harsh,” Ford said. “It was thefirst time I’d ever been shopping on my own! You didn’t give me a list, so I did my best.”

“I didn’t give you a list ‘causeyer a grown man.” Angie walked over tothe pantry and opened the door. She letout a long sigh. “I assumed you wouldknow better ‘n to buy a whole bushel of potatoes.”

“My mom always bought a lot of potatoes.”

“Did she also buy canned mushrooms?” Angie steepled her fingers. “Fer future reference, there is only onereason to buy canned mushrooms, and that is if you are stockin’ apost-apocalyptic bunker underground. Andeven then, ya don’t need to. My unclehas one of those bunkers, and he just set aside a patch of dirt fer growin’ hisown.” She closed the pantry door. “There’s also only one reason to buy a bushelof potatoes. In that case, it’s ‘causeyer feedin’ my entire extended fam’ly.”

“How many potatoes are in abushel?” Ford asked. “Just so I canavoid buying that many in the future.”

“A bushel is a weight measurement,not a numerical one. How many potatoes ithas depends upon the sizes of the individual potatoes.”

“How much does a bushel ofpotatoes weigh, then?”

“About fifty pounds.” Angie shook her head. “But that’s irrelevant! Just use some common sense when buyin’things. Just walk me through what elseya bought, so that I can figure out how much damage control I need to do.”

“I bought peanut butter because Inoticed we were running low.” Angienodded in approval. “I also boughtcoffee. A loaf of pumpernickel bread.”

“Pumpernickel? Really?”

“It’s healthier than white bread.”

“…Whatever. Continue.”

“Jelly beans, a lemon zester, andapple cider. For you.”

“Yes, I saw the cider.” Angie smiled. “That was very sweet of ya to think of me. I appreciate it.”

“All is forgiven?”

“Nope. Not even a bit. I mean, we don’t have lemons! Why did ya buy a zester?”

“It was on sale,” Fordmumbled. Angie sighed again.

“Okay. I think I know what we need to do. Tomorrow,yer goin’ shoppin’ with me.”

“What?”

“You need to learn how to properlybuy food.”

“What about Stan?”

“I’ll take him some othertime. But we need groceries badly, and it’llbe tough to scrape together a meal tonight, let alone wait until Stan has enoughtime off to learn how to function like an adult.” Angie grabbed a pen and notepad off thecounter. “Let’s make a list.”

—–

Ford followed Angie through theautomatic sliding doors. Angie was humminghappily, unlike Ford, who could feel the dread and anxiety building. She turned around and smiled that crookedgrin that she shared with her older siblings.

“Yer actin’ like I’m leadin’ yato the electric chair, not to the cereal aisle,” she teased.

“I’m not looking forward to alecture like yesterday’s,” Ford said quietly. Angie’s eyes widened.

“Oh, dear, I wasn’t that mean, was I? I just got a bit surprised that someone who’sa graduate student in physics didn’t know what kind of bread to buy.”

“Pumpernickel is a perfectly reasonablekind of bread to purchase. And no, youweren’t that mean.”

“Okay, good. And just so ya know, white bread is the standardfer bread.” Angie grinned again. “It’s also cheaper than pumpernickel. Which, as graduate students, we need to keep inmind.”

“I thought it was healthier.”

“Eh. It’s still bread. It’s not like it’s spinach or somethin’. Go ahead and grab a cart.”

“You’re not going to take it?”

“Nope!” Angie chirped. Ford grabbed a grocery cart. “All right! First, produce!” Angie merrilystrode away. Ford rushed after her. Angie leaned over a pile of various citrus,eyeing the fruit with a trained eye.

“What are you getting?”

“Lemons. We’ve got a zester. Might as well make use of it.” After a moment, she snatched two lemons offthe top of the pile. “Here. These.” She handed placed them in the cart.

“How did you choose those?” Fordasked curiously.

“You squeeze ‘em,” Angiesaid. Ford frowned. “Go ahead. Try it.” She nodded at the lemonsin the cart. Ford hesitantly picked oneup and squeezed it. Angie let out asmall yelp. “Not that hard! It doesn’t owe you money. Just squeeze it enough to see whether it’sgot a bit of a give.”

“It does,” Ford said. Angie nodded.

“Smell it.”

“Uh, what?”

“Oh, please. Don’t get embarrassed. People fondle and sniff produce all thetime. It’s the best way to make sure it’sgood.” Angie nodded at a nearby womanholding a watermelon to hear ear and knocking on it. “See?”

“Why is she doing that?” Fordwhispered.

“Ya knock on a melon to see if it’sripe. If it sounds hollow, it’s ready.”

“Why wouldn’t the fruit alreadybe ripe?”

“Produce ripens as it travels, sofer big chains, they pick it before it’s actually ripe. It might not be ripe by the time it gets toits destination, as a result.”

“Ohhh.”

“Ya really didn’t know that?”

“…No.”

“Oof.” Angie pointed at the lemon still in Ford’shand. “Smell the lemon, Stanford.” Ford slowly raised the fruit to his nose andsniffed it. “Smells good, don’t it? That’s another way you can tell it’sripe. That’s actually a good way to tellthat a lot of fruit is ripe. Yer nose isyer friend when it comes to food.”

“Good thing I’m gifted in thatrealm, then,” Ford said dryly. Angiesnorted.

“You and me both. Come on, let’s get some produce to add to ourtwo grapefruits and single avocado.”

#Stan's a middle ground between Angie and Ford #he knows how to adult mostly #but he's not very good at adulting responsibly #Angie has to teach the Stans some things. she has them buy her dinner after.#West Coast Outcasts AU #Stanford Pines #Angie McGucket #ficlet #my writing #NaNoWriMo 18 #ask #bluestuffeh

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lovemesomesurveys · 7 years ago

Text

Name something that you saw within the past week that made you smile: My pup makes me smile. She’s always doing something cute or goofy. Name something within the past week that made you frown: Health stuff and my mom was dealing with some crap, which made me upset. Name somebody who you wish would cut you a break sometimes: Myself. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: My mom. Name something you own that has high sentimental value: I have a shirt that belonged to my grandma and one that belonged to my grandpa. I also have Brandie’s (my dog who passed away in 2016) collar and a pajama shirt she had.

Name something that you hope is different by this time next year: Health stuff. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: I don’t feel like I’m good at anything. Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: In theory, I like crafty/artsy stuff but I have no artistic abilities or creativity. Name something that you strongly believe in: God. Name something that was funny to you but not to anybody else: Ha, a lot of things. i have a corny and stupid sense of humor. I love puns, too. People also don’t appreciate my self deprecating humor. *shrug* Name somebody who has tried to help you and ended up hurting you: Those that tried to help me haven’t hurt me. Name something that you had to learn the hard way: A lot of things. Name a date that has a lot of significance to you: Birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. Do you like pudding?: I like banana pudding. What was the last thing you complained about?: Jack in the Box messed up my food yesterday. Do you tend to use a lot of big words?: Not really. Do you fall for guys/girls easily?: Yes. Do you have low or high self-esteem?: What self-esteem? Are you a heavy sleeper?: Not usually. Have you ever felt like you’ve hit below rock bottom?: I feel like I’m there now. When someone copies you, are you more flattered or annoyed?: No one copies me so I don’t know, ha. I don’t think it would bother me, though. Are you trustworthy?: I’ve been told I am. What’s one of your favorite quotes?: I have a few, but I don’t feel like thinking about what they are. Favorite song lyrics?: ^^^^^ Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda?: Stale chips. I actually didn’t used to mind flat soda sometimes. Have you ever been heartbroken?: Yes. Have you ever carved a pumpkin?: Yep, many times. Are there any CD’s that you enjoy listening to all the way through?: Yeah. Is there a lot of drama in your life right now?: There’s some stuff with a couple family members, but other than that my biggest things right now are my health issues. Do you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)?: No. Have you ever set off a fire alarm at school?: No. Do you like raviolis?: I love ricotta cheese stuffed raviolis. And ones with cheese and spinach. Do you have a silly side?: Sure. Were you obsessed with those bead/jewelry making kits when you were younger?: Yeah, I enjoyed making bracelets. What’s one show that you wish was still on the air?: I do miss True Blood. What’s something you’re looking forward to?: Christmas shopping. Are you optimistic or pessimistic?: I’m pessimistic and a realist. Did you ever play with sidewalk chalk?: Yep. Are there any fast-food restaurants that you hate?: Nah, just not a big fan of. Like, I very rarely go to Wendy’s. Are you a picky eater?: Yes. It’s annoying. My eating habits and appetite have also changed a lot these past couple years, which has been difficult. Do you like the band Rise Against?: I liked a couple songs. Who’s the hottest guy and hottest girl out there?: Alexander Skarsgard. Are you stubborn?: Extremely. What’s your favorite song at the moment?: I haven’t listened to music lately, so I don’t really have one. Do you live your life to the fullest?: No. Have you ever questioned your sexuality?: No. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever been called?: I haven’t been called anything bad to my face by anyone. I’m the only one puts myself down. Have you ever burnt your ear with a straightener/curling iron?: No, but I’ve burned my thumb. Are you any good at the game Rockband?: I was great on easy mode, ha. I was rockin’ out like I was really playing that guitar. What’s your favorite board game?: Hmm. That’s tough, but I love board games. Do you believe that sometimes life is unfair? Or do you believe that that unfairness is justified?: Oh I most definitely feel that way. Do you have a hard time making new friends?: I don’t try to. What’s your favorite kind of doughnut?: Glazed or maple. What’s the most important quality in the opposite or preferred sex?: I need someone patient and understanding. Have you ever used a port-a-potty?: No. What’s your favorite ride at the fair?: I don’t go to fairs. I’d be afraid to ride any rides at one anyway because I’ve heard scary stories about fair rides. When was the last time someone gave you a piggy-back ride?: Not since I was a kid. Have you ever been onstage in front of a lot of people?: Yeah, for graduations and for choir/recital concerts. What was the last stinky thing you smelled?: Garbage. Are you more of a girly girl or a tomboy?: Neither, really. I’m not like super girly but I’m not a tomboy, either. What’s something you’re craving right now?: Nothing at this moment. Have you ever been on a boat?: Yes. Have you ever been camping?: Once, when I was a kid. What’s your favorite outdoor activity?: Only outdoor activity I like is going to the beach. Do you ever shop at Hot Topic?: Yes. Do you ever trip over your pets?: No, but I sometimes do on her toys. Do you have any Christmas lights up on your house?: Not yet, but soooon. Do you watch Spongebob Squarepants?: I used to sometimes when my brother was a kid and watched it. Are you currently in a relationship?: No. Is your foot asleep?: Uhh I guess in a way? I’m a paraplegic with no feeling from the waist down, so in a way it’s always asleep cause I don’t have any feeling there. What did you last look in the fridge for?: Shredded cheese.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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darkenedrosepetals · 7 years ago

Text

Worth

Fandom: The Walking Dead.

Setting: Alternative Universe, Fictional town, set in Georgia.

Rating: T (Unless noted differently in individual chapters)

Characters: Carol P., King Ezekiel, Jerry,Henry, Benjamin, Nabila, Sophia P. Some instances of Ed.

Summary: If someone were to tell Carol that her daughter's attendance at a summer camp, would forever change their lives, she would have laughed in their faces. Life wasn't in the habit of handing her fresh lemons. But as chance would have it, meeting the charismatic camp director was the best thing to ever happen to Carol.

Chapter One

The supermarket was empty that morning. For a summer morning in Loudaine, that was to be expected. Everyone hadn't stirred and wouldn't for another hour at most. Carol liked grocery shopping around this time. It was quiet and less hectic.

Carol readjusted her purse strap and headed toward the produce section. Sophia was close at her side with her hand on the cart, head turned, silently taking in all the sugary confections on the shelves.

"Mornin'," a man named Todd greeted. He was the early shift produce stocker. A friendly fellow, who was especially helpful to customers.

Carol smiled at him and stopped by the apple bin. She selected six apples, bagged and weighed them before moving to next thing on her list. She repeated this task until she had all the fruits and vegetables that she needed.

"Ew spinach." Sophia scrunched her nose. It was the first thing the girl had said since entering the store.

Carol chuckled. She knew Sophia hated spinach with a passion. Although, she found ways to incorporate it into her food, like blending it into pasta sauce or adding it to mac and cheese.

They turned down another aisle to grab bread for sandwiches. It was getting too hot to spend most of the day in the kitchen. Hot meals were typically reserved for dinner. When Ed was home from work.

Carol sighed and grabbed canned tuna. She wouldn't think about her husband. Not right now. She would focus on the freedom that at least grocery shopping afforded her.

The two of them finally turned down Sophia's favorite aisle. Carol snickered upon seeing the sparkle in Sophia's eye.

"Go ahead, pick one," Carol gestured to the wide selection of cookies.

Sophia raced to end of the aisle and grabbed a packet of Keebler stripes. One the way back she passed a boy who looked around her age. He was holding a packet of peanut butter Oreos and a packet of sugar cookies.

Carol remembered seeing the boy earlier in the aisle with boxed juice. She wondered where his parents were. He seemed to be confident on where to go and what to grab, so it was unlikely he was lost.

Again Carol checked her list for the umpteenth time to see if she had missed anything besides what remained. She rolled her eyes knowing she had to go to the liquor section for beer. She hoped they had what she was looking for. She couldn't go home empty handed and she didn't feel like store hopping to find it either.

Fortunately, the Red Dog was in stock. There were enough to get three cases. She loaded her cart and carefully rolled to the checkout lane. At the register, a young man was reading over the produce code list. Sophia began loading the lighter items on the belt, being mindful not to crush the eggs.

"Did you find everything alright?" The cashier inquired, scanning the items.

Carol read his name tag. "Yes Benjamin, I did." She was a regular customer of the supermarket so knew she the boy a was a new hire. Couldn't have been no older than seventeen.

Benjamin nodded and kept scanning. He bagged as he went, leaving the eggs and bread for last. He came around to scan the cases of beer that remained in the cart. He then placed all of the bags in the cart before ringing up the final total.

"Would you like to buy a bag of ice?" Benjamin asked.

Carol shook her head. She pulled a hundred dollar bill from her wallet. "No. That's okay."

Benjamin accepted the payment and quickly made the change. "I'll help put those groceries in your car. If that's okay?"

Carol smiled at the teen's politeness. Usually, she would have to ask for assistance. She nodded and moved on toward the door with Sophia by her side.

The boy from the cookie aisle was sitting on the bench by the door, with his purchased goods and a backpack. He looked up expectantly, making eye contact with Benjamin.

Carol didn't want to come across as noisy, but she was curious. When they were out of earshot she asked Benjamin. “Do you know that boy?"

Benjamin snorted. "Yeah. That's my younger brother Henry. He's waiting here at the store until our Dad can take him to the rec center. It's not open for another hour."

"I see," Carol stopped at her parked Jetta. She popped the trunk to give Benjamin access. She went around the side to open the door and to roll the windows down.

"Yeah our Dad works overnight, and doesn't get off until eight," Benjamin explained, loading the groceries. "It also so happens the rec center is on the way home. Having Henry already here at the market saves a trip."

"Makes sense," Carol agreed, taking some of the bags with the more fragile items to the backseat of the car.

Benjamin closed the trunk and took the empty cart. "You're all set, ma'am. Enjoy your day."

"Thanks, and you too."

On the way back home, they passed the recreation center. Outside, two of the counselors were pitching up the volleyball net.

Carol didn't miss the way Sophia perked at the sight. She could see from the rearview mirror the longing on her daughter's face.

The community recreation center hosted a yearly summer camp. It had an annual fee, that wasn't expensive per say but also wasn't an expense they had to spare. Although, if her husband stopped buying cigarettes and booze, they could afford it.

Sophia deserved to do something fun during her summer vacation. More than the occasional play date, and trips to the library.

The internal conversation was over-visited and was never presented with a solution. Just with a rebuttal as to why it would never happen.

Carol sighed. Yet another she needed to leave.

-----

At the Recreation Center

The volleyball tent was pitched and ready to go. Ezekiel swiped the sweat and reached for his water bottle. It was barely eight o' clock in the morning and it was already hot. He was too eager to return to the air conditioning of the recreation center.

In the gym, Jerry, his second in command, tested the recently pumped basketballs.

"Morning Boss," Jerry saluted. "Ready for the first day of camp?"

"Am I ready for hundreds of kids, nonstop chatter and plenty of mischiefs?" Ezekiel chuckled."Sure, I even have my lucky kicks on."

Jerry dribbled one of the balls. "Oh snap. Not the lucky kicks," he twisted and shot the ball into the nearest basketball net. The ball went in with a smooth 'swish'. "They're not gonna know what hit them."

Ezekiel's lips twitched into a smile. They shared this light-hearted banter throughout the day. It was how they kept their spirits high and the kids interested. Although, when the circumstances called for it, they were serious and professional.

"We've got about an hour before the first van arrives," Ezekiel announced. "I'll need you to assist Debbie with check-in." Debbie was one of the center's newest counselors, replacing Julie who was on maternity leave.

Jerry dipped his chin. "Sure thing."

Ezekiel exited the gym and next door to the cafeteria. Inside, the workers were adding items to the serving tables for breakfast. He scanned the room, searching for one woman in particular. He spotted Nabila rolling in a cart laden with milk crates. He quickly crossed the room to assist her with unloading the milk.

Nabila was the head of the kitchen and over the center's garden. She was also one of his longest-standing employee's since he became the director eight years ago.

"Oh, thank you," Nabila huffed once they were finished. She fanned herself and swiped at her forehead. "All this running around makes it feel like the air condition isn't on."

"Trust me, it is," Ezekiel assured her. His eyes fell to the newest member. "Everything going smoothly?"

"Yes, Lisa is a sweetheart. Very helpful and gets along with Kevin just as well. I think she'll do just fine," Nabila reported. "She's good at keeping inventory also."

"Excellent, that is what I like to hear," Ezekiel clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You stay hydrated now."

"Yes Sir, I will." Nabila grinned. She disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt to grab a cold bottle from the fridge.

Ezekiel chuckled. He left the cafeteria and walked down to his office. There were still matters that needed his attention. He had a very capable staff, even with the newest additions to the team he was confident things would go as planned.

-----

The idea came to Carol while she was stocking the deep freezer in the garage. She would pawn the two TVs given to them by Ed's brother Ross, her watch that was an anniversary gift from three years ago and the electric chainsaw that was still in the box from black Friday last year. Ed never used it. To be a matter of fact, she was sure he had forgotten all about it.

She checked the flyer that came with the town's newsletter, learning that late admission was acceptable. Given that today was Monday, the first day of camp, the late admission fee didn't start until next week. It was perfect.

Carol put her plan into action. She hadn't said a word to Sophia, wanting to surprise her instead. She loaded the TVs and the boxed saw into the car and all but sprinted to her bedroom. For the hundredth time, that day she was thankful Ed was at work. She grabbed the box that housed the watch and even grabbed the small studded diamond earrings. She never wore them nowadays anyway.

Sophia was sitting at the table reading when Carol returned. She glanced at her expectantly from her book. "Mom?"

"Come on, I've got an errand to run." Carol beckoned.

Sophia closed her book and stepped into her sandals, and followed her mother to the garage. She frowned upon seeing the backseat of the car loaded with the TVs. She slid into the front seat and buckled up.

The ride was short, but time seemed to slow to a crawl. A bunch of "what if's" were racing through Carol's mind. What if what she had to sale wasn't enough? Would Ed notice that the items from the garage were gone? How would he react? Some days were better than others.

Carol pushed aside those thoughts. She didn't need the negativity. Not when she hadn't even made it to the counter yet.

-----

At the pawn shop

"Three hundred and fifty for everything," Dale informed her, after examining the earrings.

Carol blinked. "Even with the TVs?"

Dale nodded. "They may be older models but they are in good condition." He chuckled and added. "I have customers that appreciate classic electronics."

Carol smiled. "All right."

Dale made the transaction, printing the receipt and counting the money owed. "Pleasure doing business with you Ma'am."

Carol tucked the money away in her purse. "Thank you so much." She turned on her heel, barely able to conceal her excitement.

Once in the car she released the breath she was holding and turned to a curious Sophia.

"Sweetie, would you like to attend the summer camp at the center?"

Sophia's eyes widened. "But you said it was too expensive?"

"I've got the money now," Carol started the car.

The realization dawn on the girl. "So that's why you pawned all those things? Won't Daddy be mad?"

Carol resisted rolling her eyes. She was sure Ed would be pissed. It wouldn't be the first time. "Don't worry about Daddy. I'm doing something for you, so he won't mind." Ed was more forgiving when she did things for their daughter.

Sophia was smiling now. "Okay."

#Carol Peletier #carol x ezekiel #carzekiel #King Ezekiel

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quinn-in-amsterdam · 7 years ago

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Alone with You || Fabrale

Tagging: Quinn Fabray & Derek Hale When: May 24, 2018 Where:: Derek’s house Notes: Quinn and Derek talk about their pasts. TW: Discussion about murder, cheating, and death.

Derek

Telling Quinn had been a huge weight off of Derek's shoulders. But it also meant that one of the only reasons for him to be apart from her, time he spent talking to Laura or shifted, was completely gone. And if he hadn't had his head firmly jammed up her ass before, he certainly did now. Derek knew that she was inside when he was still halfway down the walk, head raising, and he jogged the rest of the way inside, pinpointing her and shucking his sweat-stained shirt. "Made yourself at home?"

Quinn

In the kitchen Quinn placed a toasted bagel on a plate and set cream cheese and jelly next to it. When Derek entered she could see the shirt practically peel off his body. “Haven’t has a chance to do that before. I thought it would be a practice run for whenever I decide to move in.” She want over to him and laid a hand on his damp, cook skin and kissed Derek’s heated lips. “Since you have such a love for bagels, I brought you one.”

Derek

When she decided to move in. An eventuality, instead of a possibility. The thought made him settle in, resting a hand against her back when she kissed him so that she couldn't pull away so soon. The other hand dropped his shirt on the floor and made to press against the side of her face. "Have you eaten?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Only makes sense that I'm able to return the favor."

Quinn

Both hands immediately went to Derek’s chest and she tried to wiggle away from him. “Oh God. You’re sweaty, Derek. And my clothes will reek of your sweat.” There was laughter with this though she didn’t want to stink later. “I had a smoothie before I came over.” She said, declaring defeat and wrapping both arms around him. “You want to cook breakfast for me?”

Derek

"Hey, you're the one who came over to me. Am I supposed to be keeping my arms at my sides, here?" He pressed in against her when she finally gave up, and he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Why, what are you doing today that you don't want to smell like the inside of a gym sock?" He pulled away enough to look at her. "Absolutely. I'm going to eat that bagel, but you need more than a smoothie. Something with protein."

Quinn

“I wanted to say good morning to my boyfriend. Next time you come in, clammy to the touch, I will wave at you from across the room.” Quinn’s nails dug into his sides, teasing him with them. “I will love to watch you cook while shirtless but if you run out to grab a rabbit to cook I’m out of here.”

Derek

"Well, this way we get to shower together. Really, this all seems like some sort of convoluted plan to get into the shower with me. You know that all you have to do is ask." He jumped back when she tickled against his sides, hypersensitive to it, and the fear emerged in his eyes to have one of his vulnerable spots revealed like that. "How do you feel about eggs and sausage?"

Quinn

“I do like when we shower together. It’s not my fault one of us is in need of them so often.” She enjoyed his reaction and knew this was one to remember for when he was difficult. “How do you prepare your eggs? Do you have turkey sausage?” She couldn’t give a simple answer...

Derek

"It's not my fault that you get me sweaty." He let that linger in the air, but eventually shook his head, knowing that he was being ridiculous. He was keeping his elbows tightly contained into his sides now, eyes flicking to her hands every so often so that she couldn't get the jump on her. "However you want. And I can run down to the corner store."

Quinn

Quinn’s head lowered slightly, eyes on him with a you-can’t-be-serous expression before a bit of a scoffing laugh escaped. “Is that so?” The smile gave away how flattered she is. Quinn’s hands went to Derek’s back now and she drummed her fingertips while he spoke. “Very well. I won’t be too difficult by requesting an egg white scramble with diced tomatoes, spinach and peppers. Only letting you know for next time. I will like turkey sausage, an English muffin and fruit salad with a cup of low fat yogurt. I’ll make coffee here.” Now to see if he’ll actually put this together for her or not.

Derek

Derek hesitated, pulling away from her so that he could go to the fridge. Ordinarily, it would be a lot of chicken ready to be de-skinned and baked, salmon, and green vegetables, but he'd diversified a little bit with a second person in the house. He triumphantly pulled out each ingredient in turn and set to work, first grabbing his plate and taking a bite of the bagel, dipped hurriedly in the cream cheese. "What would have been too difficult?"

Quinn

She went to the counter and leaned a hip against it, forearm on the counter top while she shook her head in disbelief. “I’m surprised. And impressed. Maybe a little turned on, too. Do you typically eat this kind of food.” Quinn picked up the fruit and went to the sink to wash them. “The scrambled eggs. It’s a pain the separate the yolk.”

Derek

Derek just shook his head. "You underestimate me." He got down a small mixing bowl, then dug out an almost empty water bottle from the fridge. He drained it, and popped the eggs one by one out of the bowl by squeezing the water bottle against them and letting the yolk fill the vacuum. "I hate tomatoes. And I prefer chard to spinach."

Quinn

“I’ve seen this done before but never tried it in my own.” She said after the fruit was placed into a bowl and set to the side. “Who taught you how to cook?” Her hands dried on a small towel and she gathered the vegetables. “I’ve never had chard with eggs before. I’ll give them a try. Why don’t you like tomatoes?” After she asked this Quinn realized there was still a lot to learn about Derek. “I don’t like the taste of raw mushrooms. Cooked is fine.”

Derek

"Oh, no, not in eggs. Just in general. Eggs, I go for ketchup or a little bit of bleu or goat cheese. Depending on the mood." He went over to wash his hands quickly, and fished out a pan when he came back. "My dad taught me how to cook. Five kids. I spent all the time with him that I could get my hands on. Especially because he really didn't know the first thing about sports, and I was the sporty kid." He started up dicing the peppers on a little cutting board. "I hate tomatoes. I love pico. I love ketchup. I hate red sauces, like pizza and pasta sauces. I have no way of justifying this. I hate cooked mushrooms. Raw is fine. I'm not making this up."

Quinn

Once everything was finished she went back to the counter and brought herself up to sit and watch while Derek prepared breakfast. “So you and your dad would cook for a family of werewolves? Were the meals a ridiculous amount of food? Just from speaking to Carter alone I see how big a werewolf’s appetite can be.” Quinn’s fingers trailed through her hair and she had to take that moment to give Derek a playful poke with her toe. “You’re more of a pain in the ass when it comes to food than me.”

Derek

"The meals were insane." Derek used the blade of the knife to get all of the vegetables into the pan with just a little bit of oil to get some color on them, and he threw the tomatoes in a minute or so later, before he added the eggs. "Especially with my mom as an alpha. I still watch Laura put away way more food than even Carter can. And part of Carter's appetite is definitely just Carter." He poked her back, aiming for her stomach. "When you're in shape, they don't call it picky. They call it disciplined."

Quinn

“And your dad? He was human wasn’t he? Or did he get turned by an Alpha?” Quinn hoped she remembered this correctly as she wanted to understand and follow everything Derek told her. “Well, your cousin eats a lot then. He talked about McDonalds and this steak house which has an all you can eat special. I mentioned the three of us should go together. Give me a chance to meet him in person.” Quinn recoiled from the poke and batted at his hand. “No. I’m calling it picky.”

Derek

"My dad stayed human, yeah." He smiled a little bit at how she had remembered. "Supposedly didn't take it quite so much in stride when he found out. But the timeline between the wedding and Laura is a little sketchy, so he probably didn't have the same luxury of decision making." He worked on scrambling the eggs, working through it all with a rubber spatula. "He does eat a lot. And I think that's a great idea. Let me know what he says." He grabbed for her hand, reflexes quick, and pressed a kiss against the back of it. "I can put mushrooms in this right now."

Quinn

Quinn was glad to see she remembered correctly and smiled happily at this. “So it’s not unusual for a human and a werewolf to get married and have children? Because, and I’m being honest, I don’t know if I can be one.” They’ve been up front and honest about everything and Quinn wanted to get this out in the open. She reached out and tugged on Derek’s shirt to pull him to stand between her legs. “In a moment.” Her hand passed through his hair and she leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Derek

"It's not uncommon at all." He kissed her, hands placed on her legs, and he couldn't even bring his face away when he pulled back. "I don't know if I even want you to take the bite. It's dangerous. And I... I like you just the way you are." He nudged their noses together, suddenly conscious of what he'd said to Carter the other day, about how being with Quinn made him feel fifteen years old. "...So, you know how Punnett squares work?" An insanely idiotic question from someone who had last taken biology in tenth grade to someone with an M.S., approaching a doctorate.(edited)

Quinn

“You mean if I ever decide to take the bite you won’t like me as much?” She teased, kissing him again before giving Derek a swat on the arm: light and playful. “I know how distracting I can be but if you burn my eggs I’ll whine. A lot.” She kissed his nose. Something cutesy and unlike her but it was easy to do with him. “Vaguely. I haven’t looked at one in awhile.” The question was out of left field though she was curious what was on his mind.May 17, 2018

Derek

"It would be one of the most worrying things that ever happened to me. But if it was what you decided to do, I'd support you." His attention went back to the stove, and he stirred the eggs around a bit to make sure thst they were evenly cooked before throwing them onto a plate. "So, I have one, dominant werewolf gene. And you don't. So there's a 25% chance any kid we had would be human. Also terrifying."

Quinn

“Why would it worry you?” She expected a smart ass response but was greeted with this instead. Quinn slid off the counter and turned around to gather small bowls for the fruit salad. “That’s better than a 0% chance.” She scooped out the fruit and set it to the side before she went to warm water in the electric kettle she brought from her house. “Then the chance we may have one human kid isn’t completely written off.” Soon the French press had fresh coffee grounds, ready for the hot water. “Why is that terrifying?” Quinn was in her head, wondering if having a human child would make her more attached to the others but she knew her was ridiculous; so Derek’s last sentence didn’t register until later.

Derek

"Because there's a chance that the bite doesn't take, and that you would die a horrific and painful death," Derek said, and he didn't seem to be aware of how he was gripping the counter, tendons on his hand extremely prominent. "...Would you not want a child who was a werewolf? I think it would be terrifying because human children get hurt. And sick. I broke four ribs and punctured a lung once and I was up and playing the next day."

Quinn

This took time to sink in and Quinn, who kept by the kettle looked to him. “Are there people who willingly take the bite, knowing those consequences?” While she asked her hand went to her cross to fidget, unaware of this until a few beats later. Quinn turned the kettle off and poured the hot water in. “I know I’ll love all our children, Derek but I do have concerns when it comes to mothering werewolves. I mean. You just said you broke ribs and punctured a lung. That would give me a heart attack.”

Derek

Derek nodded, and he finally glanced down at his hands. He pulled away fron the countertop altogether. "There are. And even the... vast majority of people who got it violently are fine. But some..." he shook his head, and turned to lean against the counter. "Human children break ribs and puncture lungs too. They spend weeks in the hospital for it."

Quinn

“Weeks compared to a day is a major difference. Did you even see the inside of a doctor’s office?” Quinn pushed the plunger down slowly and went to Derek and wrapped her arms around his body. “I’m used to certain things, such as people having children who are 100% children and not dying from alpha bites. Please don’t take my inquiries as me dismissing who you are. It hasn’t even been a full week since you told me about all of this so, of course, I need to adjust. I love you and want us to have our life together. The one we’ve been planning since the start.”

Derek

"It was a veterinary clinic." He paused, because he knew that she was going to have some things to say about that, and he pointed a finger into her face. "Which is something very typical for our pack, because our emissary was a vet, and he saw us in his vet practice, not because werewolves and vets are a thing." But any sass that he had died, and his eyebrows came together as he listened to her. "...I told you you love me."

Quinn

Before she could get a word in Derek went into a quick explanation and it still had her wanting to say more about it, “Why did your emissary pick that as his job? I mean, I can see it works because you don’t have to deal with paperwork or people asking questions.” Her mind went to how she read stories where people who didn’t want to deal with the law visited veterinarians instead. “And there it goes. It went straight to your head.” Her arms raised and she draped them around his neck. “Instead of saying it back you pulled an I told you so. Fitting for us.”

Derek

"He's a druid first. It's a species. Like werewolves or fae or antelopes. They hold all kinds of jobs. Deaton just happened to be a vet. His sister was a guidance counselor. All kinds of jobs." His hands made his way to her back, and he pulled a slow smile. "I love you too. Eat your eggs."

Quinn

“Fae? You mean to tell me fairies are real? How about vampires?” This was a serious question though it felt funny to come out of her. Quinn wondered for the fourth or sixth time since Derek revealed his secret if she was dreaming. “A Druid vet and guidance counselor. It’s not at all what I expected but it’s easier to hide in plain sight.” The smile said it all but Quinn didn’t give one in return. “You still haven’t cooked my sausage or put my yogurt in a bowl.” She didn’t need any of these but it was what they did. Anchored against him Quinn rose on her toes and kissed his lips.

Derek

"You think that werewolves are real and fairies aren't? Every country in the world has mythology about the fae. Ghosts aren't real, at least as far as I know. Vampires... I guess it depends on what you think of when you think of a vampire. There are bat shifters. There are Lilitu. Two totally different things." He haplily returned the kiss, tucking a hand under her butt and supporting her a little bit. "I will go down to the store and get some."

Quinn

“I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake anymore. Until a week ago I thought werewolves were a work of fiction but now I know that’s so far from the truth. And I have to laugh because it would be like me to fall in love with one since I’ve not had the best of luck with the men I’ve dated.” Even though two of those breakups were her doing. Which was something she knew she needed to disclose at some point. Someday... “I’ll have you go to the store later. The eggs will be cold by then and I’ll want you to make them again.” She kissed his chest and pulled away from him. “The coffee is ready. I think I’ll take cream and sugar in mine today. I feel indulgent.”

Derek

The cream had to be opened, foil peeled back from it when he took it out of the fridge. He'd bought it just for her, and carefully added enough so that the color approximately matched how he had seen her take her coffee many times before, and then he added some sugar, taking the mug and the plate of eggs to the table. He sat down with the bagel, taking another happy bite. "You say werewolf like it's a character flaw."

Quinn

Quinn thought back to what she said, bowls of fruit salad in hand as she went to set it on the table. “No. It’s not a flaw.” She didn’t think she made it sound like one. Quinn set one bowl down on Derek’s side of the table before she took a seat. With fork in hand she went ahead and gathered some egg but didn’t bring it to her mouth. “Trust me. If I thought it’s a flaw I wouldn’t be here.”

Derek

"You don't accept flaws in your potential partners?" Derek quirked an eyebrow, but the same smile as always was being fought back on his face. "You made it sound like this was something that you were used to. Deadbeat boyfriend, Asshole boyfriend, werewolf boyfriend. The latest in the chain of Quinn's unfortunate life choices." He ripped off another piece of the bagel, scraping up half the jelly as he went.

Quinn

“No, Derek. I expect the people I date to be as flawless as me.” She placed the food into her mouth and chewed the scrambled eggs slowly while she looked at him. “Why do I get the impression you’re saying these things to rile me up? Don’t you dare list yourself as someone I consider a mistake because I will go over there and take the last of that bagel. Then smack you.”

Derek

"So long as you don't smack me with the bagel, I think we're going to be okay. Though, I think I still need a shower. What do you think?" He was still absolutely shimmering with sweat after his jog, and there was still a full order of bodyweight exercises for him to get through before he would even get to the bathroom. "I mean, I think, comparatively, I'm pretty flawless."

Quinn

“On second thought I’ll stay here. I can’t smell you.” She laughed and went for another forkful of the eggs. “I think you should have showered as soon as you walked through the front door. And you’re not flawless. You’re a pain in the ass.” As soon as she said this Quinn laughed, lowering the fork onto the plate to cover her mouth. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

Derek

"A pair is one word for us." Derek ducked his head to hide his smile, tearing off another hunk of bagel with his teeth, just picking it up with his hands this time and going for it. "Yeah, but then you get to see me not holding back on doing push ups. If I towel off, will you sit on my back?"

Quinn

Quinn moved from the eggs to her small bowl of fruit, and she glanced at Derek after the suggestion was made. “I’ve only seen you run and collide with bikes so I don’t know how you held back before.” Something clicked just then. “Your sense of smell, sight and hearing are heightened yet you were still too distracted by me the afternoon you ran into the bike? Was it my scent or seeing me from a distance which caught your attention?”

Derek

Derek hadn't expected to be called out like this before he'd finished his breakfast, and he gave a small cough. He was silent for a couple of beats. "I... was distracted the same way that any red-blooded man would be distracted to be seeing you doing yoga in the park like that. I might be a werewolf, but I'm not a monster."

Quinn

There was still fruit left but Quinn abandoned it for the time being and went over to Derek. She stood behind him and lowered, wrapping her arms around his neck, loosely and lowering down to hug him. Quinn kissed the side of his cheek and smiled against it. “So I turned you on in public?” She had to ask instead of leaving it alone.

Derek

Derek turned back a little, just so that he could see Quinn out of the corner of his eye. The littlest rumble came from his throat. "Turned me on is a bit of a strong word, wouldn't you say?" But he wasn't denying it. He couldn't get to the right angle where he could kiss her from the chair, but he wasn't willing to disturb the grip she had on him.

Quinn

To give him a bit of a hard time, Quinn shifted over and went to Derek’s other cheek; kissing it a few times and had to fight back a laugh with what was said. “Then how would you put it because what you said before made me think you pictured me sexually even before you knew my name.” Her breasts pressed against the back of his shoulders and as much as she teased about Derek needing to shower after his run, she didn’t actually mind how sweaty he got.

Derek

"No one said that it was sexual." He knew that he was fighting a losing war here, but he wasn't going to go down without having given his best. He finally turned around to the side in the chair, bringing her down to kiss him on the lips. It lasted for a few beats before turning back. "What did you think of me, besides that I was an idiot?"

Quinn

"How can it not be sexual when you said red-blooded man. It leads me to view it as you wanted to have a go at me while I was in the middle of one of my positions." She teased, sitting close to him now she was on his lip. Quinn's hand went to the back of Derek's neck and she leaned in to kiss but merely brushed their noses together. "That was it. You nailed it." He hadn't but why should Quinn give away what her actual thoughts were, doing her best to keep her heart rate low because she didn't need her boyfriend to call out her lie.

Derek

Derek felt a little robbed when he wasn't kissed, but he leaned up to meet her lips anyway, after the soft touch of her nose. "Was I at least an attractive idiot?" he asked, touching at her wrist. It was a subtle way to get a better read on her heart, pressed up against te skin like that.

Quinn

She shrugged a shoulder and said, “An alright looking idiot is more like it.” Quinn slipped her wrist away from his hand and went to stand which only lasted a second as she changed her position to straddle his lap. “You may have been distracted when you ran into the bike-“ Quinn’s forearms fell upon his shoulders and her fingers caressed the sides of Derek’s bearded cheeks, “but when I went to check how you and the bicyclist were you must have heard and sensed my reaction to you.” She spoke so easily about one of his abilities, as if everyone could do this. “I couldn’t stop looking at you. The way you had your arms on full display...it made me want to touch you.”

Derek

"See, I'm gathering so much data from this." He wrapped his hands around her, reaching around so that he could pop the very last of his bagel into his mouth. "For example, I didn't know that your eyes went right to my arms. I can just do curls until I die. I never need to do a sit-up again." He pursed his lips just a little to fight off his smile. "What if everyone reacts like that to me? What if I just block it out?"

Quinn

“Don’t you dare stop working out the rest of your body. I expect all of this to be in top shape.” Quinn leaned back and dragged her hands down his chest. How was it he still felt damp from sweat? Quinn’s hands pushed underneath his shirt and touched the skin of Derek’s stomach. “You better keep blocking it out because I’m the only one that matters.” He was so cocky and it made her smile because she liked when he acted this way.

Derek

"Only the best for you, my love." He was a little surprised with himself at how quick the pet name rolled off of his tongue. He groaned against the contact, half expecing the scrape of her nails against one of the few vulnerable spots on his body. "Possessive?"

Quinn

“Did you call me possessive?” She knew he did, nails scraped along his skin while her gaze was on his. “Maybe I am. I place the blame on you.” Her nails went upwards and she laid her palms flat against Derek’s chest; the shirt material collected at her wrists so she could peek down at his body whenever she wanted.

Derek

The second he felt the contact from the nails, he felt an irrational feeling of closeness towards her, because he just knew her so well, felt so connected to her that moment that he had to kiss her, something hard and, yes, possessive curling up inside of him. "Victim blaming. I feel the same way, though."

Quinn

When the kiss came, Quinn fell back momentarily and felt the press of the table against her lower back. It was hard and hungry, a combination which thrilled her. Quinn’s hand curled just enough to scratch his skin; intentionally doing it this time. “How are you the victim?” She asked breathlessly. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” She didn’t know where this came from or why she said it but she felt that need for him to hear it. “You can wear a shirt which says Quinn’s boyfriend on it.”

Derek

Derek stood up now that he had Quinn against the table, lifting her up the littlest bit until she was resting on top of it. His skin healed quickly over her touch, not even able to leave a mark long enough to see it, as her fingernails would be blocking the way until it was able to heal. "Where are we going to get a shirt like that? And I think we have those in this culture. That's a wedding ring."

Quinn

Up on the table she looked behind her and moved some items out of the way but was interrupted halfway through the clearing. “True. Or a tattoo.” She didn’t anticipate this and thought it over. “You and I both know a proposal is coming. We’ve been talking about our future like a couple people who don’t want to bother with the dating norms.” Her hands went to Derek’s shirt and she pulled it up.

Derek

"I'd get another tattoo, but I have to get it physically burned onto my body with a flamethrower." That knowledge might bring to light the one that was already on his back, and maybe illuminate the lack of detailing or color that really went into it. "You're going to propose to me?" he raised his arms, letting the shirt fall to the floor. "That's so sweet. I was a round diamond the size of a ring pop."

Quinn

“A flamethrower? Are you serious? Why would it take that to get a tattoo?” Quinn’s hands rested in his hips, thinking of the black symbol on his back. “It’s so neat and precise...” she whispered to herself about it. “I have a tattoo. I cover it with makeup everyday to keep from being reminded of it.” Then, with a soft laugh and shake of her head. “You’re too high maintenance, Mr. Hale. I can’t keep up with your luxurious taste.”

Derek

"A flamethrower. My skin heals around the ink. My body has a lot of compensatory measures in place to eject poison. But if you burn something into it, it tends to keep the shape. You might need to get it touched up over time." Hie eyebrows went up, and he grabbed her arm, looking over it. "You have a tattoo? Quinn, I've seen your entire body. What are you talking about? And... fine. If you think so, I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Quinn

“You do know how ridiculous that sounds don’t you? Not that I don’t believe you and don’t even try to demonstrate it because I doubt I’ll be able to stomach it.” She said, clearly in disbelief. There was so much to take in with what Derek was capable of, how different their bodies were. “I use-“ her hand went up to smooth his raised eyebrows and laughed. “I use some expensive tattoo concealer. I don’t like seeing it as it’s a reminder of a not so great time of my life.”

Derek

Derek did relax his eyebrows, but he was still looking around at Quinn's skin for evidence of any little patch of makeup. He seemed increasingly displeased when he couldn't find anything. "I know. Everything that I say sounds ridiculous. It's not common for werewolves to get tattoos. Mine's special." He scented at her skin, trying to pick out where a smell of concealer might be coming from.

Quinn

There he went on the hunt and Quinn wanted to let Derek carry on, giving him the chance to find it but she decided to throw him a bone and stood up, turning around. A hand went to raise the back of her shirt and the faintest indication that there was something there could be spotted. The tattoo wasn’t as dark as Derek’s which made it easier to cover. “I need to get this removed.” She said, leaving the shirt up. She knew what was coming next and didn’t want to reveal the tattoo to him.

Derek

Derek grabbed one of the napkins off of the holder on the table, licking it and rubbing at the tattoo. It didn't pull off perfectly, being good enough concealer, but enough that he could vaguely see what it was. That only raised his curiosity, and he worked at it a little more. "Is... Is that Jason Bateman?"

Quinn

As expected she felt him wipe at the tattoo and Quinn closed her eyes. Everyone from high school knew about the tattoo, which happened during a time when she struggled with her identity and depression which followed giving Beth up. Why she picked that or what made even think it was ironic to begin with. Also the guy turned out to be a scumbag recently and now she had that inked onto her body. “No.” She blew out a breath and said. “Ryan Seacrest.”

Derek

There were a million questions flooding Derek's mind as he learned the identity of the blobbed face, still mostly covered by the makeup, and he tilted his head to the side a little bit. He walked around so that he could face her properly, and took her hand, kissing the knuckles. "Let's google some tattoo removal clinics."

Quinn

“I considered going to one but I read it hurts. A lot. I’ve been through child birth and-“ she was about to reveal she had a nose job but was that something he needed to know? Then she might have to talk about her days before she transferred to her high school as a whole new Quinn. Leaving Lucy behind in the past. “I’m only making excuses. She admitted. I hope it doesn’t leave a a scar. It’ll be nice to stop applying this cover up every day.”

Derek

"I'll be there to hold your hand." He raised it up a little bit, and squeezed the hand. Maybe it wouldn't be ideal for him to sit there for an hour six times over six weeks, but he was willing to do a lot to make sure that Quinn was happy and comfortable. "We'll find someone really good. We can take our time to research it."

Quinn

She returned to sit on the table, which wasn’t an ideal spot but it kept her high enough for them to look at each other without hurting her neck. “We’ll see after the first session. It might not be as bad as I painted it.” Quinn pulled him over and and stared at him for a good while before she said, “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.” This wasn’t easy to admit and for her to do so wasn’t what she expected to do as she was a rather proud woman. With Derek, however, she found herself giving him that glimpse over the sturdy brick wall she constructed over the years.

Derek

That had Derek stepping forward, defeating the point of her not having to arch her neck fairly well, and he moved her legs apart just a little bit so that he could stand between them. "...Yeah?" He was quiet for a beat as he debated whether or not to be exactly as vulnerable and cheesy. But it was never a real debate with Quinn. "I feel the exact same way."

Quinn

With him between her legs, both hands on his bare sides, she drummed her fingers before pressing her forehead to Derek’s shoulder. She needed a moment to compose herself as there was something about this which struck her. “I used to bully people. When I joined the Cheerios, the cheer squad at my high school, and was made head cheerleaders it fueled my need for power. To be on top.” She pulled away from him now and looked up. “I think back on those years and wonder if karma had gotten back at me with everything’s that’s happened.” Her head shook slowly and she dropped her eyes again. Quinn licked her lips and grew quiet. “I don’t see myself as a good person. I’ve been working on it over the years and I’ve talked to my priest about it but I keep thinking that maybe I’m inherently selfish and cold and-“ she took in a breath and scoffed at her own behavior. “mean.”

Derek

Derek related to it all in a way that he couldn't even begin to describe to Quinn. He nodded, unable to look away from her eyes until they broke contact with his. He was fighting every instinct to tilt her chin up and regain the connection. She was going to come back to him when she was ready. "You're not a mean person, Quinn." His voice was even, without an ounce of pity. "You're strong, and self-righteous, and independent, and that wasn't a choice for you. You're not going to let other people make you feel less about yourself because of how they're trying to keep you down."

Quinn

One thing Quinn hated was vulnerability. It was something which developed over the years when she was a little girl who wanted to be taken seriously. In camp, at church, in school. Even at home. It was a constant battle for affection and it wasn’t until she managed to lose a lot of weight and go under the knife, entering McKinley with a new persona, that she got what she’d been chasing. It paid off but it came at a cost, causing her to act in a way which she later regretted. The regret that Derek might be able to get a glimpse of now that she brought her eyes back to his. His understanding warmed her and she thought that maybe he actually did mean it and wasn’t just saying words at her. Which would be a first for him as Derek’s honesty was very prevalent since the beginning. “I won’t. I won’t let anyone do that to me again. I wish I went about it in a different way with certain people.” It took everything inside to not crumble. “You are the best thing to happen to me. My love for you is one I’m completely sure of. You came at a time when I needed someone who can understand where I come from and I hope you feel you’re able to get that with me.”

Derek

Derek nodded, and he couldn't even glance away from her, afraid that this open side of her would be completely gone by the time his eyes made their way back. His hands went to her legs, and he grabbed at their sides a little bit, needing to feel her, real and concrete under him as he heard these words. "I love you too." He leaned in so that he could kiss her, though he was fairly quick about it. "I moved to Amsterdam because I needed a change. I was in a rut. I wanted to get away from my old life, and my guilt, and my mistakes, and be a new person."

Quinn

Her hands went to his shoulders and pushed toward his neck until she comfortably relaxed her arms along the sides of it. “Did it help?” She couldn’t possibly begin to piece together the guilt he must feel, certain it must be something terrible.

Derek

It was terrible, it was a weight that was never more than a moment or two from his mind, and he looked at her with such a softness in his eyes, such appreciation, that it was wonderful that he could stand with the weight of it. He nodded. "I feel like I have a future."

Quinn

To take in the look he gave her, it practically swept aside the contempt thoughts which plagued her on a daily basis. “A future together.” She smiled, it small and yet noticeable. Quinn kissed his lips and kept it longer than the one he gave before as she felt the both of them needed this. She pulled back, but kissed his lips a couple more tiles before she stopped completely. “Maybe I need to stop assuming the worse and accept that there is the possibility of a good life. I thought I was destined to be either alone because,” she laughed at what she was about to say, “I don’t think I’m the easiest person to love for the long term. When we’re together I know, without a doubt, you intend to stay with me. Even when I turn into a bitch about things or give you a hard time. Since it’s in my nature.”

Derek

Derek looked over her face again, one last examining look. She was saying these things, about how she always thought that she would be alone, why she thought so, and... if he had already told her about Kate, about the worst thing that he had ever done, and how she was still here in front of him, Quinn was someone who deserved to know the truth. He took her shoulders lightly, feeling the tone in the air change a bit with the gesture. "...You know how I keep giving you very good reasons to grab the door and run?"

Quinn

“And I keep proving how stubborn I am by making myself further at home.” She replied, tilting her head to the side. This did cross her mind at times, how she’ll have to keep adjusting to life with him. That she hasn’t been through a full moon with him. Or...she had but didn’t realize it. The night at the club came to mind and Quinn recalled the way he seemed and how he wasn’t happy with what happened to her. Quinn looked at him and waited, keeping quiet about the memory.

Derek

"Stubborn is one word for it." He sighed, but there was no exasperation behind it. He looked down at her shoulders, his hands, one of the places that they were connected at the moment, because looking at her in the face sometimes felt just like looking at the sun. "I killed someone. A long time ago."

Quinn

This caused her breath to catch in her throat and Quinn assumption the guilt must be attached to something terrible came to fruition. She was sure he picked up the change in her pulse but what kept her from moving away from him was the way Derek had carried himself with her and everyone he’s been in contact with. He didn’t strike her as some sort of stone-cold killer. “What happened?” She chose to ask. In need of the story.

Derek

Derek's eyes closed. It had taken a long time for him to piece the events of the night together, blinded by how his mind had tried to shut as much of it out as possible, pieced together by Peter's timeline and his mother's memories through his eyes of what had happened. "...Her name was Paige. I was fifteen years old. I... had someone give her the bite. A stranger. I didn't tell her. I didn't ask her. I just did it. And she was dying. So I... broke her spine." His voice stayed even, even as he felt the snap of the bones underneath his hands, something that he felt at least once a day.

Quinn

“Why did you ask someone to give her the bite?” When Derek spoke of the bite to her before he made it very clear it wasn’t something which needed to be done. That it has the potential to kill you. Quinn’s hands went to Derek’s cheeks and she brushed the side of her thumbs along the grain of his beard. Her heart hurt from the expression he wore and she knew this was a heavy burden of his.

Derek

Derek's stomach clenched at the question. It was something that he asked himself a lot. "...I wanted her to be like me." He opened his eyes finally, looking up at her. "The same things I've told you. I wanted her to be strong. To heal. To not get sick. I was afraid she'd leave when she found out what I was. These were all things people were warning me about. I didn't know..."

Quinn

“People told you she would leave if she found out the truth?” Quinn remembered how fifteen was and how impressionable you can be of how bad choices were usually done with the encouragement of others. Beth was the result of wine coolers which led to sleeping with one of Finn’s friends. This was on a whole other plain and she didn’t drop her hands. “Did you know there was the possibility of death before you asked someone to bite her?”

Derek

Derek nodded. "...Yeah. I... one of the things I remember most clearly is my uncle Peter telling me that... Gods, it all sounds so stupid and insignificant now. He would tell me that the perfect ones always left when they found out. "It wasn't the first time in my life I'd heard it. We were cautious around humans. We protected ourselves. ...I knew. It could happen to old people, sick people... babies. No one could have expected it to happen to her."

Quinn

Quinn’s hands went to his shoulders now and she made sure their eyes were connected. “You were fifteen and listened to someone who you thought you can rely on. It cost someone’s life and it’s-“ she placed herself in that girl’s shoes. Bitten without knowing why and only dying once the pain got to be done, due to a mercy kill from the person who set it in motion. Quinn let a shuddery breath out and hadn’t realized her gaze fallen until she looked at him again. Her hazel eyes shone with tears which threatened to spill over the last hour. “You loved her. You wanted to be with her completely and thought the only way to make it possible is if she was like you.”

Derek

Derek wanted to look away, look down, break this gaze, but he felt stuck to the ground, the same way he would if he had been facing his mother or his sister, his alpha, someone with complete contrpl over him. He nodded a little; that was all that he could do. "...she wasn't a... life lesson. She wasn't just my girlfriend. She was a person. She was a concert cellist. She had two older brothers. She loved The Wizard of Oz."

Quinn

Her lips pressed together and Quinn found her lower lip trapped underneath her teeth, releasing it slowly. Her arms went down and slipped around Derek’s middle and brought him completely to her. She pushed her hands up the middle of his back for a moment before she brought her right one back to his neck and slid it upwards to his head. Quinn pulled Derek down so she could hug him as best as she could, guiding his forehead to her shoulder while she kept a hold of him. “You didn’t mean for it to happen, Derek. You thought she was strong enough to survive the bite. You made a mistake of going against your better judgment and forced a life you weren’t even sure she wanted. But you didn’t mean for her to die.” She said, keeping her voice low while her own tears finally spilled.

Derek

Derek felt torn in several different directions when Quinn tilted his head into her shoulder. Whether to stand up and comfort her, because he could tell that her chemosignals where going crazy, or to pull away and change the topic, or... He had it decided for him when a powerful tremble came from somewhere deep inside of him, and it rolled into a full-body shudder againsf her embrace. "No. I... I've never meant to hurt anyone."

Quinn

Her hand stroked his back and didn't say anything while she held Derek close. Her cheek nuzzled against his hair and temple, turning every so often to kiss these very spots. There was still a lot to process with what he revealed to her but right now she wanted him to know she was here. She was going to listen and place herself in his shoes. She wanted to be more than his girlfriend, as Quinn wanted Derek to know she was his friend as well. "What happened to her after you broke her spine?" She could have left the question for later but chose not to.

Derek

Derek felt his bile rise at the question, at the memory, but the less primal part of him realized that it was valid, and that this was something that he needed to talk about with Quinn. But that didn't stop him from gripping just a little tighter, to stop his hands from shaking. "...Peter took her from me. I still don't know how he knew that I was there, or what happened. He took her into the woods, near our home, where someone would find her. Everyone... thought that it was an animal attack."

Quinn

"That's-" she thought of the right word to use here though chose to go with the one which came to mind, "terrible. To be found in the woods. For her family to think of their daughter out there on her own with questions as to why she was there in the first place." Quinn kept the rest of her comments to herself as she knew it wasn't helping. "Was there a funeral?" She hoped there was and that the bite was done in a place where it wouldn't keep it fr- Even thinking about this caused Quinn to closed her eyes and cry a little more. It was a lot.

Derek

There was another one of those deep rolling shudders, the nauseous feeling doing nothing to be eased away. He pulled back and swiped across his face a little bit. "There was a funeral," he said, remembering the day. "I... I didn't go. What right did I have to look her parents in the eye and..." he swallowed the rest of his sentence down. "I dropped out about a week later."

Quinn

Quinn knew something about not attending funerals for someone she loved but she didn't dare bring that up with Derek right now. Instead her hands returned to Derek's cheeks hands covering part of the dark beard which she preferred over clean shaven. "With what happened? No, it would have been wrong to be at the funeral but you needed that time to say goodbye. Grieve. To unload everything that's accumulated inside you since the moment the bite was planned." Quinn kept such a soft and understanding voice as she spoke, tear tracks evident on her pale cheeks. "This is such a tragic story and I wish I can help soothe the pain." Her brows came together and she licked her lips. "Do you want to visit her when we got to the states?"

Derek

It was one of those moments where Derek was sure that he didn't deserve the touch, shouldn't have someone in front of him right now, witnessing this and being forced to say these pitying things. He squared his shoulders off, picking his head up fully, jaw cracking a bit as he stretched it from where it had been so tense before. "...If we go to Maryland... I like to spend my time with Peter there."

Quinn

"The uncle who told you to bite Paige?" Quinn didn't think she would like this man if she ever met him, which was inevitable as she wanted to meet all of his family. The way Derek stood now felt different than before and she lowered her hands and folded them in her lap. "Will you want me to stay elsewhere?"

Derek

"He was my best friend. And it's not like he knew any better either." He felt this surge of defensiveness for Peter, and he realized that Quinn might not know. He might not have told her, or she might not remember. He was always throwing so much at her. "Peter's been in... he's essentially in a coma since the fire. He doesn't show a lot of brain activity. That's your decision."

Quinn

How could she forget...? Quinn needed to have a sit down and piece together everything Derek shared since they first started to talk, as there was so much happening and the amount of names which swirled in her head felt as if they jumbled together: Peter, Laura, Paige, Eric, Kayla, Cora...She wasn't sure if that was everyone and didn't even count Carter as he was here in Amsterdam. "No. I'll stay with you. I-" she didn't want to admit this, "it slipped my mind." She sounded defeated because she hated not keeping track of all the important things in his life.

Derek

Derek didn't know how to keep track of what had happened in those formative years of his life. So much of it was a blur, and omission from the sheer trauma of it all. "...i really appreciate that." He leaned over and kissed her quickly. "I know. I know. It's a lot."

Quinn

“Derek,” she started and looked into his eyes. There was a sadness she never seen before and she wondered if it was always there and she hadn’t picked up on it. “What happened was a mistake and it cost the life of someone you love. But it doesn’t mean you’re a monster. A terrible person. You were young and you felt you were giving her a life she would have wanted. A life with you.” Both her hands took his. “To take her life wasn’t easy. I know it wasn’t as you most likely hoped her body would take the bite at the last possible second but,” her eyes shimmered with unfallen tears. “it’s what needed to be done to save her from any more pain. Paige was with you in her final moments and as sad and heartbreaking it was you were with her. She didn’t die alone because I’m sure that girl loved you as much as you loved her.”

Derek

He held her close now, hands going around her back, and he watched her for a couple of seconds, his eyes shining a little bit. "I know. I know. I've... had a lot of time to think about this. Half a lifetime. I'm alright. I get through it. I know that... everything's going to be alright. "And I just need to move forward, Quinn."

Quinn

“Just like you said before. You feel like you have a future and I hope it’ll be one you want with me.” Was this really the time to bring this up? Derek shared something personal, something many would see as terrible and probably unforgivable but Derek shown his heart to her and how good a man he is. “There is something I should let you know. I didn’t know how to bring this up because it’s never a good time to, but I feel this is our chance to be up front with each other. To make sure this is what we want.”Even thinking it made her stomach clench and she took a deep breath. “I cheated one two of my boyfriends. I cheated on Finn and on Sam.” She didn’t want to continue but did. “I got pregnant with Beth by Finn’s friend Puck.”

Derek

Derek took a couple of seconds to process that. She had cheated on Sam? And they were still friends? Had that been what had broken them up? She'd gotten pregnant when she had treated on her boyfriend? He thought about how to react for a few seconds. "...I couldn't imagine that. Especially at fifteen... sixteen... you must have felt so alone."

Quinn

Quinn opened her mouth a promptly closed it because she didn’t know how to follow that up. A hand went to comb through her blonde hair and she took in a lungful of air before releasing it slowly. “When I cheated on Finn I was so caught up with being popular and being the center of attention. I wasn’t very popular or well-liked before I went to McKinley and it went right to my head. Then things happened with Puck. I was drunk and he told me to trust him, which was so unbelievably stupid. I couldn’t even own up to what I did when I found out I was pregnant and I made Finn think he aaa the dad even when we’ve never had sex.” Quinn had to pause with this. “I told you. I’m not a good person. A good person wouldn’t do this to someone.” She hates the fact she was crying over this when it was her own doing for this happening in the first place.

Derek

Derek nodded. These weren't problems that he could understand, and he forced himself to listen, instead of solve and sympathize, which seemed to open be how he brute-forced his way through these types of issues. He looked her in the eyes when she gave him a chance, and his thumb came up to wipe away at a tear. At this point, it seemed like sticking his finger into a dam. "You were sixteen years old, and you were trying to make the best decision, even if it wasn't the right one, even if you knew that at the time. You were in desperate circumstances. You're not the same person you were then."

Quinn

She wasn’t and she knew this. She’d grown from her mistakes and learned from so much pain which shaped her into the woman who sat before Derek. She was still strong, stubborn, and maybe arrogant at times but she also came into herself and didn’t allow her thoughts to steer her into situations which would not only hurt the ones she cared for. But herself as well. She nodded at last and reached for him. There was so much more she wanted to say but the tears and the things they said to each other left her mentally exhausted. “God. Look at us.” Her hand went to swipe at the tears and Quinn tried to do what she always did whenever to cried; brush it aside and act as if nothing happened. Though, “I think we did something that most couples don’t do until well into their relationships.”

Derek

"Since when are we most couples?" Derek asked, but even through his soft smile, he knew that she had a point. They hadn't even officially been dating for a month, and he already had ideas that Quinn's friends didn't like, he was sure, that he knew Carter didn't like, and... well, if he hadn't told Laura yet, then it was sure to not be a very good idea. But it didn't stop him from wanting it. "You wanna walk with me to class?" There was a train ride in there, but most of the walk was peaceful, and made all the better if Quinn was there.

Quinn

Quinn smiled which felt foreign at this point. She wanted to tell Derek to not go to his classes but it was towards the end of his semester and she wouldn’t dare encourage him to jeopardize his education. “I walk sounds nice.” She said at last, kissing him. “You don’t plan to shower? I think it’s my duty as your girlfriend to order you to take a quick one.”

Derek

"Can't I just pretend to be fifteen for the day?" Derek asked, thinking about how he was going to have to walk out of the room, away from this bubble, and not being too excited at the prospect. "Get a can of body spray down at the corner store? My deodorant is Hermes. No one's ever going to smell me." He pressed their foreheads together quickly. "Besides, I don't care what anyone else thinks."

Quinn

“No. I rather you don’t because I’m the one who has to smell you while we’re together.” She placed her hands on his chest and backed away. Quinn walked around him and gave Derek a light, playful swat on the ass. “Come on. We’ll get one together. I’ll even let you wash my body.”

Derek

"You think that's going to be a quick shower?" But there wasn't any hint of complaining in his voice. At some point, Derek had bought shorts that were actually appropriate for running, and they made their way fast to the hard floor of the kitchen as he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the stairs.

Quinn

When his shorts hit the floor Quinn shook her head because that was the fastest she’d seen him undress. “As long as we don’t wet my hair then we can be in and out.” With the way Derek bounded up the steps she knew it’d be faster if he just flung her over his shoulder.

Derek

Derek was right there with her, spending half of his time on the same wavelength as her. He lifted her up when they hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, even though that wasn't where he maxed out. He was still used to hiding that part of himself around her, away from home. "You good?" He set her down as they hit the top.

Quinn

It wasn’t over his shoulder but it still left Quinn breathless from the momentary thrill which came from the sprint. “I am.” She pushed her hair away from her face and walked away from Derek. They should hold off with the sex until later, after she processed everything which happened today but she also wanted that connection with him. Quinn pulled her shirt off and tossed it by the bed and made quick work of her sports bra. The tattoo on her lower back was partially visible from where Derek uncovered it and Quinn went straight to the bathroom. “You better hurry up.” She teased.

#para: derek #murder tw #death tw #cheating tw #infidelity tw

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