#Coating Pan Machine
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adinathinternationalindia · 7 months ago
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Tablet Coating Pan
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Tablet Coating Pan (conventional coating pan) including Tablet coating system is cGMP machine designed for coating tablets. Coating Pan Machine designed from MS fabricated structure with SS coverings electric control, air filter and SS Pan inside the enclosure, which makes simple cleanable outside covering. Machine is mounted on Dyna mounts which avoids foundation.
Coating Machines are provided with interlocked electrical circuit so that heaters operated only after blower’s switch ‘on’ to avoid burning of hearts. Coating SS Pan Mouth ring is soldered at their rim cavities to avoid collection of dirt or contaminated drug. Standards machine with helical Gear Box, induction Motor and all electrical controls made of well-known brands. Thermostat control can be provided on demand. On customer demand, Gear Box and electricals including motors can be flameproof/explosion proof. We manufacture Coating Pans ranging from 8-inch Small Coating Pan to 48-inch Industrial Coating Pan.
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pramukhpharmatech · 1 year ago
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Finding the Right Fit: Top Fluid Bed Dryer Machine Manufacturers
Fluid Bed Dryers are vital for various industries. But with numerous manufacturers, selecting the ideal one can be overwhelming. This guide explores reputable Fluid Bed Dryer Machine Manufacturers, highlighting their expertise and range of products. From industry leaders to regional specialists, you'll discover the perfect partner for your drying needs.
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miniseokminnies · 4 months ago
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the subtle art of stirring the pot —- l.sm
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⭑.ᐟ pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader ⭑.ᐟ theme: coworkers to lovers, annoyances to lovers, sous chef!seokmin ⭑.ᐟ w/c: 9k ⭑.ᐟ warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of food, stressful work environment, insults, jealousy, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, semi public make outs, protected sex (that's a yes yes), marking, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight angst, miscommunications ⭑.ᐟ a/n: written as part of the Lonely Hearts Café collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here send over some love! (haha get it) thanks a million to my lovely beta readers: @tomodachiii and @lovetaroandtaemin and a special shoutout to @seungkw1 for betaing and overall keeping me sane
Ring ring ring
The chaos of a kitchen is only aided by the sound of orders being put in.  Saturdays are statistically the busiest days of the week, and being a restaurant in New York City, Quartz and Serenity is no exception.  You had been frantically chopping carrots for the better part of an hour.  
“Y/N!” The head chef called out to you, “Go get more mushrooms, chicken, and sherry for me please.”  Without another word you jogged toward the walk in refrigerator to retrieve the ingredients.  The last few years you’ve spent in this kitchen has allowed you to map it all out to a science, which in a way it was.  You felt like a part of this well oiled machine and you handled the pressure with ease.  
You piled the ingredients in your arms and pushed out of the walk in.  You began to unpack the items on the counter next to the chef.  He instructed you to take them out of their packages and begin chopping them for him.  While the dinner service ran smoothly, there was an air of stress that always comes with being short staffed. You always pulled it off though, and tonight was no different.    
The moment you crossed from the hallway into your apartment, you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes. You smelled like grease and sweat.  The apartment was bathed in the yellow light above your stove you left on this morning.  There were dishes in the sink and cook books stacked up around the kitchen.  
Sighing, you dragged yourself to the bathroom.  You dropped your chef’s coat into the laundry pile and waited for the water to get warm.  Once hot, the water ran over you, loosening your tight muscles.  You stood in the stall staring at the wall for several minutes, mind wandering to what ingredients you had in your refrigerator and whether or not you should just order something.  
The water sputtered and threatened to turn cold all too quickly.  You rushed through your routine, savoring the last few drops of warm water.  It went straight from warm to ice cold in seconds as you were rinsing your conditioner out of your hair.  
Clad in pajamas, you stared into the boiling water on the stove.  You dumped probably too much pasta into the water and turned to the other burner.  You mixed together ingredients in a pan over the fire to make a sauce. This was a typical meal for you after manning the kitchen at Quartz and Serenity because it was easy and not on the menu.  
No matter how much you enjoyed cooking, you always tended to get tired of the food that you worked around all day.  Customer complaints and repetitive pressure did that to you.  You wouldn’t change a thing though, this is what you loved.  
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“Everyone!” You heard the booming voice of the head chef call through the kitchen, “I have someone to introduce you to!” The staff and yourself meandered to the center of the kitchen where Chef Choi was standing with a man you didn’t recognize.  He was around your age, maybe a bit older.  His features were so striking, you almost missed the chef’s coat he was wearing.   
“This is Chef Lee,” your boss smiled, clapping the man on the back, “He is our new sous chef!” You didn’t hear anything he said after that, you felt like the walls were closing in on you.  You could feel eyes on you but you stared straight ahead.  You could feel your jaw tighten as you bored a hole into Chef Lee’s stupid head with your eyes.  
Once you were dismissed back to your stations to prepare for dinner service you saw him hovering near your station out of the corner of your eye.  
“Can I help you?” 
“Oh!” He smiled sheepishly.  “I just wanted to introduce myself to everyone individually! You can call me Seokmin.” “Okay, can I get back to what I need to do, Chef Lee?” You looked back to your knife.  
“Uh, sure…what is your name first?”
“Y/N.” You gestured to the nametag pinned to your coat.  He nodded and wandered away towards the wait staff.  You rolled your eyes.  
Throughout the night you were tasked with showing your new coworker the way things run at Quartz and Serenity and much to your displeasure, he was very excited to be there.  Every so often he gave you room to breathe by floating around the kitchen, observing everything.  However, everytime he returned to your side you thought you might punch him.  
Somehow you made it through the dinner service.  It wasn’t your turn to clean up the kitchen tonight so you bolted to the bus station as fast as possible.  You didn’t say goodbye to anyone, knowing that you might get sucked into doing something with your coworkers.  
Once on the bus you check your class schedule on your phone, only to realize with horror that you have a test tomorrow.  Your stomach turned with the dread of having to be up all night studying, again.  
—-
“Need any help with anything?” Seokmin’s sickly sweet voice offered at your side.  
“No.” You were already on edge today, you made it through your test by the skin of your teeth and your professor made that abundantly clear.  You had no time, or patience, for him right now.  
“I saw you prep yesterday, I could do part of that for you,” he pushed.  
“No thank you, Chef Lee.” You asserted through gritted teeth.  “I would ask Chef Choi if I were you.” He slinked away like a kicked puppy while you continued chopping vegetables.  It’s not your fault that he is completely out of his element and didn’t know what he was doing.  
However, when orders came pouring in you noticed that his confidence seemed to double from last night.  He was able to keep up with different elements, even without knowing the recipes very well yet.  
The kitchen was louder than it had been in months, the new addition to your team taking it upon himself to fill the room with music, from his own mouth, to your dismay.  You weren’t sure how much of his relentless optimism you could take, especially today.  He floated around the kitchen with a carelessness that you would never be able to comprehend.  
To your horror, at the end of the night Chef Choi announced that tonight was the most efficient night the restaurant has had in several weeks.  
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“You’re singing.” You deadpanned without looking up from the vegetables on your cutting board.  
“Y/NNNNN” Seokmin mused, “How was your dayyy?”
“Don’t ask me how I’ve been.” You forced your knife through a carrot, “Just do your job, and stop singing.” There were exactly three seconds of silence before Seokmin moved from singing to humming.  You slammed your knife down onto the cutting board.  “I’m taking a five!” You huffed and turned toward the walk-in. Seokmin stopped humming.  
The tears started as soon as the door closed behind you. Your back slid down the wall, the coldness biting through your clothes.  It was stupid to cry, but you couldn’t help it; he was so infuriating.  You had no idea what Chef Choi saw in him.  The tears sliding down your cheeks smudged the swipe of mascara you put on this morning? Yesterday? Couldn’t have been more than two days ago…
The door opened. 
“So, what’s up?” Seokmin asked softly, leaning against the wall next to you.
“Oh my god!” You cried, “Can’t you leave me alone for a single second?”        
“I did,” he blinked at you, “If I had it my way, I would’ve followed right away.”
“I’m in here because of you!” Your voice cracked, a new bout of tears threatening to spill, “I would have loved it if you didn’t come in at all!” 
“Well….technically, I’m…kind of your boss.”
“God, ew, no not really,” you scrunched your face in a look of disgust, “Chef Choi is our boss.” 
“Y/N, what did I ever do to you?”
“The kitchen ran smoothly without you!” You informed him, “Everything was fine without you!” 
“Now wait a minute,” there was an edge to his voice that you had never heard before, “I have never messed anything up.” 
“Well–” 
“No,” he cut you off, “Seriously, you may not like how I operate, that’s fine, but you aren’t going to sit here and tell me that I’m a problem in this kitchen.”  His words were firm but it was hard to miss the tears swelling in his eyes. 
“This is serious to me.” You hardened your gaze.  
“And it isn’t to me?”   
“Doesn’t seem like it.” 
“God,” He sighed.  “Y/N, maybe this can be a lesson for you.  No one is ever going to do things exactly as you expect them to.  That doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” He stood up to leave.
“You can’t just walk away after you talked down to me!” You shot to your feet. “You think I’m some dumb kid!” He turned to look at you, you chose to ignore the glimmer of a tear on his cheek. “I’m at the top of my class! I know what I’m doing!” 
“What are you trying to prove?” His voice rose now too, “I never said you didn’t know what you were doing! Do you want me to?” You blinked at him.  “You couldn’t even julienne the carrots today! Why? All because I was singing?”  He wiped the tear away from his skin angrily.  He moved toward you and crowded you against the wall.  The proximity forced you to look up at him, his face was stone.  “What’s your problem with me, Y/N?” He whispered, looking down his nose at you.  The cold of the refrigerator made the warm breath fanning across your cheeks even harder to ignore.
“We have a kitchen to get back to…” You tried to avoid looking at his lips.   
“You don’t think I’m serious about this,” he planted his hand on the wall next to your head, “So does it matter if I get back to that kitchen?” 
“You said I didn’t know what I’m doing! So I guess the kitchen doesn’t need either of us at this point!” You jutted your chin up defiantly.  He chuckled sarcastically.  
“You’re being so ridiculous right now, are you like this with every new hire?”   
“No, only the ones I find irritating,” and incredibly attractive, your thoughts wandered.  Rookie mistake, your eyes flit to his lips before you had time to think.  When your eyes returned to his he was looking at you, absolutely bewildered.  Then, in one swift motion he smashed his lips to yours.  The way he kissed you was just as angry as the way he was talking to you moments ago; his lips moved with a fervor that was almost malicious.  
Your fingers found the front of his chef’s coat, you attempted to pull him closer.  He whined into your mouth at the feeling of being wanted.  The sound awakened something in you and heat settled in your stomach.  You shifted your weight trying to ignore it.  Seokmin nudged you with his knee until you parted your legs slightly for him to slot his thigh between.  He was firm and muscular pressed against your core and it took everything in you to not rock against it.  
With a jolt you remembered where you were and who you were with.  You pushed against his chest until he moved away from you.  Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Seokmin seemed as though he realized the same thing.  
“Come out when you're ready,” he nodded and left the walk-in without looking back.  You tightened your ponytail and took a deep breath before following him out.  You returned to your station and picked up the knife you abandoned before the ordeal.  “Thin as matchsticks, Y/N.” Seokmin reminded you through kiss-bruised lips.   
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“Table 13 sends its compliments to the chef!” Soonyoung comes barreling into the kitchen carrying plates to deposit into the wash.  
“That was the last table right?” Seokmin breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Yup!” Soonyoung popped the “P” and punctuated the exclamation by dumping the dishes he was carrying into the sink.  You had the day off and Seokmin felt the pressure of your absence throughout the entire day.  
The encounter he had with you was heavy on his mind all day, the first day he’s spent in this kitchen without you by his side.  He still couldn’t figure out what it was that he could have possibly done to you in the short time you’ve worked together.  
“Hey Soonyoung?” He called without thinking.  Soonyoung turned to him with a questioning look on his face.  “You’ve been here a while right?” “Yeah, why?” Soonyoung reached around Seokmin and grabbed at the carrots, earning him a slap on the hand.  He winced and pulled his hand to his chest.  
“Can you think of any reason Y/N would dislike me?” 
“Hm? Y/N?” Soonyoung mumbled, “Oh! The scary one.  Yeah I try not to talk to her much.” 
“Because she scares you?” “Because she scares me.” Soonyoung nodded.  
“She wanted your job.” One of the waitresses, Jeongyeon, asserted from the doorway.  Seokmin switched his attention to her, almost begging her to clarify.  She sighed and adjusted her bag on her shoulder.  “She’s about to graduate, the position was vacant for so long that she was under the impression that Chef Choi had decided to hold it for her.” Seokmin moved across the kitchen to beg her to tell him everything.  
“Why would she assume that?” He pleaded.  
“You have no idea how long your position was vacant, do you?” She turned to leave, “She was acting as unofficial sous chef for almost a year.  In her opinion there’s no reason she shouldn’t have your job by now, diploma or not.”  He looked down at the floor. "Oh, and stop looking at her with those puppy dog eyes, she'll chop your fingers off."
Eventually, Seokmin dragged himself home.  His apartment felt too big, too empty.  He wished he could stop thinking about you, if he was honest.  He stared into his pantry and quickly decided he had no desire to actually cook.  He popped an instant ramen into the microwave and went to go change his clothes.  
The microwave was beeping four minutes later, he pulled the cup out and narrowly avoided burning his hand on the outside.  He set the ramen on the counter and dug through the refrigerator in search of something to drink.  There was not a lot to be found, besides a full pack of wine coolers he bought weeks ago in hopes he could invite some people from work over to celebrate working together, clearly that never happened.  
About two hours later, Seokmin was crying to the credits of Dear Evan Hansen with five empty wine coolers on his coffee table and a sixth to his lips.  Whether he was crying over the movie or something else entirely, he wasn’t sure.  
He still couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to you, he had new information to mull over, but he still couldn’t understand why you hated him.  He would’ve talked it over with you if you just came to him with the issue instead of giving him the silent treatment.  Even worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his.  
Your lips and the warmth of your body against his had been running through his mind since it happened.  He continued to sip from the bottle as he thought about you.  He admired you in a way, so headstrong and willing to go after what you wanted, even if that got him yelled at.  He didn’t really care, he realized you were pretty even when you were insulting him.  
Soon the bottle was empty and Seokmin’s eyes were closed thinking about your mouth.  He knew he would never live it down if you knew, but that didn’t stop him from delivering the soft initial touches over his shorts.  Eventually pulling them down, letting his semi hard cock spring free, and pumping himself until he was stiff.  
His voice surprised him, sounding foreign to his ears, whispering your name to his empty apartment. Everything became muffled as he heard the blood rushing in his ears, he felt his own hips sputter and he picked up his pace, fucking up into his hand.  He thought about the pretty way you said his name with an edge to your voice and he was quickly undone.       
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You pushed the french fries around in the basket, the parchment paper soaking up the grease they left behind.  You barely got three bites into your burger before you felt sick again and resorted to just pretending to eat.  Maybe an entire bottle of wine to yourself last night and sleeping until 1 pm was not your best idea, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  
You checked the time, you have to be at work in a little over an hour, and you knew you had to eat something for your stomach to stop swirling.  You sighed and picked up the burger again, and took a bite.  Your body tried to protest but eventually you felt your stomach calming, thankful to have food.  You laid your head back onto the back of the booth and closed your eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths.  
“Rough night?” You cracked an eye open to see Seokmin standing over you, a basket matching yours in hand.  “Me too,” he lifted his basket in a gesture of comradery.  “May I sit?” You nodded, not having the energy to argue with him over it.  You sat up and studied his face briefly.  He had bags under his eyes like you, his hair was more askew than normal, and he was wearing the biggest hoodie you had ever seen.  
“What got you so hung up?” You asked, selecting another fry from your basket.  
“Oh,” he didn’t look at you, “I just have a lot on my mind, you?”
“You.” His eyes snapped to you, clearly surprised by your boldness.  
“What?” He sputtered around a mouthful of his burger.  
“I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve annoyed someone to the point of drowning in alcohol.” 
“I mean, maybe,” he dropped the burger into the basket, “but no one has ever been so bold as to tell me outright…” 
“Are you pouting right now?” Seokmin crossed his arms over his chest at your words, once again refusing to look at you.  “See!” You scoff, “this is what I mean, you get everything you want and when someone calls you out on your bullshit you can’t handle it!” You pushed your food away from you with a huff.  
“I get everything I want?” He raised an eyebrow at you.  “You know I graduated from culinary school, just like you’re about to?” He leaned his elbows on the table, getting closer to you.  “I worked hard to get where I am, and I was hired because I come highly complimented from previous bosses.” 
“What is this? Your resume?” 
“Let me show you, come to dinner with me on Thursday, we both have the day off” 
“So you can brag?”
“No,” he cracked a smile. “So we can get to know each other better, and maybe put this behind us.”
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You stared up at the facade of the restaurant.  This building had been your dream for years, since you moved to the city.  Now, because of Seokmin, you were able to dine here? It almost doesn't seem fair. 
“Hey!” Seokmin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Sorry I’m late; I hope you weren’t waiting long!” You turned to him and shook your head.  “Oh good, shall we?” He ushered you inside, lightly touching the small of your back.  You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach at the small gesture.   
Once inside, he let his hand drop but stayed close to you.  He leaned around you to speak to the man at the host stand.  “Table for two, the name Lee should be on your list?” The man flipped through a few sheets of paper before stopping to read through a short list of names. Seokmin’s hand returned to your back, pushing you to follow the man through the restaurant.  
The decor was almost enough to distract you from the warmth of Seokmin spreading through your body as he pressed his hand against you more firmly.  The ornate light fixtures bathed the room in a soft light, making everything feel more dreamlike and romantic.  
Seokmin pulled out your chair for you as the host was informing the two of you that a waiter would be with you soon.  As Seokmin took his seat, you had a moment to take him in.  You had never seen him wearing anything besides his chef’s coat.  He had the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled up, showing off his watch and his toned arms.  
“See anything you like?” 
“What?” Your eyes widened, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.  He pushes a menu towards you.  
“Anything?” He smiles, choosing not to bring attention to your obvious staring.  You shoved your face into the menu and began to study it intently.   After a few minutes of silence the waiter provided glasses of water and a promise to return in a few minutes to take your orders.  You laid your menu flat on the table and looked up at Seokmin.  
“What do you like?” You asked sheepishly.  He chuckled to himself and set his menu down.  
“Well,” he pointed at the wine selection, “I was going to order us wine. Do you like white or red?” 
“White, usually,” 
“Okay, so,” he looked at you over his glasses, “you know enough about wine pairings to know what dishes a white wine rules out.” You nodded. “They have a lovely creamy pumpkin penne dish that pairs nicely with chardonnay, and we could share a brie sampler for an appetizer?”  
“Honestly, that sounds wonderful,” you smile at him. You let him order everything for the two of you.  He lets the silence linger for a few minutes while you wait for your wine.  Once the glasses are poured, and he’s confident no one will bother you for a while, he breaks the silence he crafted.  
“You’re much more shy outside of the kitchen,” he observed.  
“I’m out of my depth,” you admitted quietly.  He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine, inviting you to go on.  “I’ve been waiting to eat here since I moved to New York, and you just happen to have your name permanently on the list?”  
“I know the chef,” he muttered into his wine.  
“I know how highly qualified you are,” you informed him, “you’re experienced out of the ears and I’m just some kid in culinary school.” 
“Well,” he tipped his glass forward to clink it with yours, “you can legally drink, so you’re not a kid.” He watched you smile, “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re really talented.” 
“Oh don’t say stuff like that to me,” you rolled your eyes and picked up your wine glass, “You might get me to come around to you.”
“Oh God forbid, we can’t have that.”
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“Where’s Y/N?” Seokmin was frantically moving through the kitchen.  “Dinner service starts in 40 minutes, why aren’t any of you telling me where Y/N is?” 
“She’s in the dining room, damn…” 
Seokmin knew that you closed the restaurant last night, opened this morning, and the two of you were closing together tonight.  So, when he found you asleep in a booth in the dining room, he wasn’t surprised.  You often used the few hours Quartz and Serenity was closed between breakfast and dinner to catch up on studying.  
Your head was resting on your arms, your ponytail was loose and strands of hair were falling in your face.  He reached to brush them away from your eyes but stopped short when he read the papers under your hand.  Application for Employment. He read it over and over with his hand hovering above your head.  He felt his stomach drop so fast he was afraid it would fall out of his ass.  
Taking a deep breath he let his hand settle on top of your head. He rubbed your hair softly with his thumb for a few moments, hoping that you would wake up.  When you didn’t stir, he moved his hand to your shoulder and shook you lightly.  
“Y/N,” he leaned closer to you.  Your eyes opened slowly.  “Hey,” he smiled, “dinner service starts in 30. I would let you sleep, but we need the table.” You jolted upright at his words, knocking his hand back to his side.  
“In 30?!” You began to shuffle your papers back into the folder and snapped your book closed, “why didn’t anyone grab me sooner?”  Seokmin didn’t have time to answer before you were breezing past him toward the kitchen.  He watched you until you disappeared into the back room, agonizing over what he would do if you actually left Quartz and Serenity.  
The entire dinner service was spent the same way, Seokmin becoming flustered when you assisted him.  If he was being honest with himself, he would be impressed with how easily you were able to bounce back to routine.  It was almost as if the hiccup from before didn’t even happen. 
You moved through this kitchen like you’ve been in it your entire life, Seokmin truly could not imagine this place without you.  He didn’t want to think about the fact that he didn’t want this kitchen to run without you.  But you deserved to run a restaurant in his opinion.  He wanted you to call the shots and to be successful, even if that meant he and Chef Choi would be competing against you after your graduation.  Then it hit him; he also wanted to be selfish and hide you away for himself.  
“Can’t you move any faster?” You shoved a soapy dish towards Seokmin.  The two of you were the only people left in the building after a successful Sunday.  You were eager to get home and sleep after the worst lineup of shifts.  You picked up a shift from a coworker because you desperately needed the money, but you didn’t think ahead to how your bones would ache after it all.  
“If you would rinse the soap off I could,” he sighed.  He pulled the faucet head toward the dish in your hand, spraying you lightly with the water.  
“Seokmin!” You squealed in annoyance. Grabbing the faucet back from him, you angled it towards him.  The water rolled off his exposed forearms, his coat sleeves long pushed up over his elbows.  He raised an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.   He plunged his hands into the sink filled with soapy water and splashed it up onto your coat. 
It wasn’t like you to sink to his level. Any other day, you would put a stop to this, get the dishes done, and go straight home.  However, you’re not stupid and didn’t miss a single look in your direction through the entire day.  Seokmin looked at you like a lovesick puppy everytime.  Something about those looks lit a fire in your belly, and you didn’t care to find out if it was anger or interest. 
So, you followed suit. You cupped your hands around a gaggle of bubbles, lifted it high above your head and smoothed the soap into his dark hair.  He stood motionless for a moment, looking down at you in disbelief as his hair dripped onto the floor.  Finally, he swiped his hands through his wet hair, slicking it back and exposing his forehead.  Somehow it seemed like his features became more sharp and striking with his hair pushed away.  Your eyes followed the sharp slope of his nose down to his lips and back to his dark eyes.  
He moved toward you quietly.  The tension hung thick in the air. He cupped your jaw with his wet hands, eventually moving to thread suds through your ponytail.  Any part of him that thought he might kiss you was dampened by the water you suddenly hurled out of the sink at that exact moment.  He yelped and moved away from you. 
“We have dishes to finish, Chef Lee.” You smirked.  The dishes in question were finished and dried in complete silence.  The water and the clattering of the glass were the only sounds in the room.  
“Let me take you home,” Seokmin broke the silence.  
“What?” You gaped at him.  
“No…” A blush creeped up his neck, “not like that.  You take the bus, right?” You nodded at him.  “You’re all wet, just let me drive you to your place.” 
“You don’t have to do that…” 
“I know,” he smiled sheepishly, “but I want to, please?” 
Somehow, he convinced you.  You were panicked, too panicked to even make fun of him for being the kind of person who lived in New York City and owned a car.  He passed his phone over to you and instructed you to put your address into the maps app.
The ride was silent, your leg bounced as you watched the location get closer and closer. You nearly threw yourself out of the car when he parked in front of the building.  
“Bye! See you Tuesday!” You blurted as you ran towards the lobby of the building.  Seokmin waved, confused, at the back of your head. 
“You need to stop telling people you live here.” The front desk attendant deadpanned.  
“I know, Jane,” you ducked to spy out the window.  
“Who is it this time? Bad date?” Jane was used to you showing up in her lobby every few weeks at this point.  You were lucky that she loved to gossip or else she would have banned you from the building months ago. 
“Ugh, no,” you watched Seokmin’s car pull away from the curb, “My coworker.”
“Why do you care if your coworker knows where you live?” 
“Honestly?” You stood up and moved toward her desk, “I’m not sure…”
“Hm,” she holds out a lollipop to you, “might want to unpack that.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you unwrap the candy and pop it into your mouth, “whatever.” You exit the building with a wave and begin the short walk to your actual apartment.       
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“Red wine this time.” Seokmin declared as you slid into your chair.  
“Feeling bold today are we?” 
“Well,” he chuckled, “It’s a steakhouse, so we have to pair correctly!” This was the second installment of what Seokmin had started calling Seokmin's Surely Spectacular Suggestions .  You were starting to realize that he knows a lot more than you thought he did.  He always seemed to know someone at every restaurant, if not multiple people.   
“Oh my god!” A woman’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.  You looked up and the waitress was smiling at Seokmin. “It is so nice to see you!” 
“Oh!” Seokmin smiled widely at her, “I didn’t think you worked on Thursdays!” 
“Ugh!” She put her hand on her hip, “I don’t usually! Dosie needed the day off and as a good friend I took the shift.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.  You watched Seokmin’s face contort into a laugh.  Something panged in your chest watching them laugh together.  Suddenly, you were extremely interested in the menu in front of you as you tried not to think about what that could possibly mean.  Seokmin and the waitress chatted for several more minutes before she bounced away.  She never looked in your direction the entire time she was at the table.  
“Ordered us wine, hope that’s okay.” Seokmin knocked on the table in front of you to get your attention.  You hummed affirmatively. “What’s wrong? Have you decided you hate me again?”
“No,” You didn’t look at him.  You felt him stare at you from across the table, you held strong and did not look up from the menu.  It didn’t matter that you had read the words 8 oz wagyu beef steak and garlic potatoes six times, you couldn’t look at him.
The same waitress from earlier came back with your wine and a basket of bread. She placed everything down on the table and turned to Seokmin again.  
“Are you ready to order?” She smiled.  
“No, we need a few minutes.” You snapped before you had time to stop yourself. Seokmin shifted his gaze to you.  
“Oh, uh…okay.” The waitress blinked at you and turned on her heel without a second look.  
“What was that?” Seokmin was looking at you like you had grown a second head at some point in the last thirty seconds.  
“Nothing, she was pushy.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance.  
“No she wasn’t.”
“She was!” You finally looked at him, he looked like a confused puppy, “You just didn’t see it because she was flirting with you.”   
“What are you talking abo–” His face contorted into a smirk, “Are you jealous?” He dropped his voice to a whisper.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You declared, pushing out of your chair.  You all but stomped all the way to the bathroom, mentally cursing yourself for being jealous in the first place. A hand encircled your wrist as you turned the corner to the hallway that housed the bathrooms.  You turned to find Seokmin latched on to you.  He pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you.  Looking him up and down he looked almost as shocked at his own actions as you felt.   
“Were you jealous?” He whispered, “I have to know, because if you don’t tell me it’ll eat me alive for the rest of my life.” You couldn’t help but think he was being just a little dramatic. You slotted your hand into the hair on the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours anyway.  
It took him a few moments to respond properly.  When his brain caught up to what was happening he kissed you back hungrily.  His lips moved roughly and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you as close as possible and swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.  You deepened the kiss and allowed him to explore further with his tongue.  
Seokmin had a way of putting every emotion he was feeling into his actions, it was evident when he kissed you angrily weeks ago, and it was evident now.  It felt like weeks of anger and bickering had melted off the two of you and now what was left was want and attraction that was left unsaid.  
He detached himself from your mouth and moved to kiss over your pulse point.  You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back to give him better access.  Experimentally, he sucked gently on the skin below your ear, earning him a quiet moan.  He did it again. 
“Let’s go home,” he panted into your skin. “Please.”  
“Seokmin we’ve only had wine,” you whispered  
“I’ll make you pizza at home, I don’t care, I just need you.” He whined.  
—-
Seokmin fumbled with the key to his apartment, his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment.  Finally, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside.  You tried not to think about the fact that his apartment was about double the size of yours.  He kissed you again once he had the door locked and you both inside.  His hands found your hips and he pulled you closer as he was licking into your mouth.  He tasted like wine, the same one you knew was on your lips as well.  
“You owe me pizza, Chef Lee..” You whispered, breaking away from his desperate mouth. 
“Oh my god, Y/N,” he groaned, “I can make pizza with my eyes closed.” His confidence was attractive, it was rare for him to be cocky like that.  
“You didn’t buy me dinner, and I’m a lady.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes before grabbing and lifting you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his trim waist.  You yelped in surprise, you had no idea he could do that.  He plopped you down on the kitchen island and moved to the other countertop.  You watched as he rolled out pizza dough.  His arm muscles bulged as he put in effort to flatten it.  “Not even homemade dough?” You teased, “Some chef!” 
He sent you a glare out of the corner of his eye, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away.  Suddenly it clicked, “oh my god, do you get turned on when I’m mean to you?” You smirked.  
“Shut up…” Seokmin muttered while opening the pizza sauce.  
“Well…better hurry that prep…” You smiled wickedly, spreading your legs.  Seokmin glanced over at you and nearly moaned at the sight of your panties under your dress.  He frantically pressed the buttons to preheat the oven.  Once the pizzas were ready to be put in the oven he slotted himself between your legs and captured your lips once more.  
You guided his hand to your breast and encouraged him to squeeze.  He placed his other hand on your exposed thigh.  He trailed his fingers slowly up and up towards your center until the oven beeped.  He groaned and ran over to place the pans in the oven and set the timer. 
“Take your pants off.” You stated simply when he turned back to you.  He nodded and stumbled out of his jeans, the thin fabric of his briefs left little to the imagination as he was hard by this point.  He moved toward you and you ran a hand over his clothed cock, he hissed at the contact.  
“One second,” He blurted before disappearing down the hall.  You contemplated touching yourself while he was gone, but he returned in a rush before you had the chance.  He wiggled a small foil package in his fingers to show you why he left.  
“Who said you could hit?” 
“I–well I just figured…”
“I was about to start without you just now, I could still do that.” You could tell that Seokmin was weighing his options, knowing it would be so hot to see you get yourself off, but needing the feeling of being inside you.  
“No, no!” He sputtered, “I got you!” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to your clothed cunt.  
“Prove it.” 
He started slowly, the pads of his fingers circling your clit through your panties. His lips attached to the sensitive skin below your ear.  He kissed the skin slowly, letting his teeth graze your neck every so often.  He hooked his thumbs under your underwear and pulled them off gingerly, letting them flutter to the floor.  
He ran his fingers through your folds, savoring the wetness there just for him.  Experimentally he slipped a finger inside, earning him an arch of your back and a sound so delicious it could be the only thing he heard for the rest of his life and he would be happy.  
“C’mere,” he grunted, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it.  He moved you to the edge of the counter and inserted a second finger.  You couldn’t help but rock your hips against his ruminations.  He reached that delicious spot inside of you and you felt yourself hurtling off the cliff.  “You talk a big game, but you’re so desperate for me.” Seokmin snaked his free hand over his cock, teasing himself as he finger fucked you into an orgasm.  
Once you came back to Earth he slowly removed his fingers.  Before he had the chance to wash them off, you took his hand and guided his fingers into your mouth.  He watched with wonder as your tongue swirled around his digits, cleaning them.  You pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting you to him.  
“Who’s desperate now?” You breathed watching him continue to tease himself over his briefs.  
“Can I please fuck you?” He whined.  You helped him out of his briefs, you watched his cock spring free, the tip red and angry.  You leaned down and thumbed his leaking slit, earning you a delicious moan.  You spread the mess down his shaft.  
He opened the condom with his teeth, you watched as he rolled it down.  He pulled you to the edge of the counter again and lined himself up with your entrance.  He pushed himself inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust.  The stretch was delicious.  He slowly began to thrust, whining in the process.  
“You’re so warm,” he cried.  You felt every inch of him as he slid in and out of you. His hands anchored you to the countertop as you draped your arms across his back.  Seokmin found his rhythm once you wrapped your legs around his waist, he felt so surrounded by you.  He swore he could live with you wrapped around him for the rest of his life.  
“Why didn’t you fuck me in the restaurant?” You breathed.  His hips stuttered for a moment.  
“In public?” He bit his lip.  
“Yeah?” You swiped a hand through his hair and gave it a tug.  He moaned into the crook of your neck.  
“I uh-” He whined, “I didn’t think-I don’t know?” “Oh you really can’t think when your dick’s busy, huh?”  He whined into your neck again, the vibrations and the warm air fanning against your skin left goosebumps behind. Seokmin’s hands trailed down from your hips to your thighs and he began to knead your soft skin with his nimble fingers.  
You leaned your head back, enjoying the feeling of him all over you, inside of you.  With better access to you he experimentally captured your skin between his teeth.  Your sounds spurred him on and encouraged him to begin sucking and biting a bruise into your skin.  With this your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts.  
The idea of being marked by Seokmin would have appalled you just a few weeks ago, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the idea of people knowing you have had him like this.  Like that stupid waitress.  “She wanted you.” You muttered between moans.  
“What?” Seokmin breathed into your skin.  
“That waitress, she wanted you.” 
“Oh well.” Seokmin bit you again.  He was marking you, even after you told him that another woman wanted him like this.  The coil in your stomach threatened to snap at that alone.  You could envision yourself falling off the edge soon.  Seokmin was still massaging the underside of your thighs, pinning your legs around his waist.  Suddenly everything was overwhelming, everything was him.  You felt like fireworks were setting off inside you.  He continued rolling his hips into you through your orgasm.  Shortly after he was releasing into the condom, moans rattled your throat the entire time.
He pulled back to look at you, his eyelids were heavy over his eyes, his lips puffy.  Before either of you had the chance to say anything the oven beeped.  Seokmin’s eyes grew wide, both of you obviously forgot about the pizza.  
“Get your dick out of me and turn that off!” You laughed.  He nodded and slowly pulled out of you.  You watched him slap the off button on the oven, trying not to laugh at him being naked from the waist down.  
Once both of you were cleaned up and clothed, Seokmin cut the pizza and put it on plates.  You were waiting on his couch, dressed head to toe in his clothes.  To him you looked like a dream.  
“Stay the night.” He handed you your plate and sat down next to you.  
“No.” You stated simply, picking up a piece of pizza.  After several seconds of silence you looked up at him, he was looking at you dumbfounded.  “We have work tomorrow.” 
“I’ll drive you!” 
“And walk past Jeongyeon after showing up with you and smelling like sex? No thanks.” 
“You can shower here, I’ll even walk in ten minutes later, please?” He looked like a puppy again.  
“I don’t have my work clothes, and no yours won’t fit me.” You gestured towards his clothes that were far too big on you.  
“There’s extras, you know that.” 
“Fine…” You wouldn’t mind showering in a nice apartment for a change. “You walk in fifteen minutes after me, and you shower with me.” “You have a deal!”               
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Finals week was upon you.  The only week out of the year that work came second to school, you were so close to graduation you just had to make it through a week of practical exams.  You were confident in your ability to pass but your mind was elsewhere most of the time.  
You wondered how the kitchen was fairing without you, how Seokmin was doing without you.  As much as you hated to admit it, he did know what he was doing, but being absent was eating at you.  You flipped through the pages of your textbook without reading a single word wishing you could pick up your phone and hear about the days you’ve missed.  
Across town Seokmin was doing just about as well, he knew your name wasn’t on the schedule and he was dying to know where you were.  He was chopping carrots to have for dinner service when he decided to go straight to your apartment tonight.  He didn’t care if he had to get on his knees and beg the woman at the desk to tell him your apartment number.  
He all but sprinted out to his car once the kitchen was clean for the following day.  He parked on the curb in front of the building after the short drive.  He practiced what he was going to say to the woman at the desk on his way into the lobby.  He took a deep breath and approached her.  
“Can I help you?” 
“I’m looking for Y/F/N Y/L/N!” He blurted.  “She hasn’t been to work in a few days, she isn’t scheduled but she didn’t tell me she wouldn’t be here and I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong and I–” The woman was laughing.  Sure he went off script, but how would she know? He looked at her, confused.  
“She doesn’t live here.” Now he wasn’t expecting that.  
“What?” 
“I told her this would happen eventually, somebody would come looking for her and I would have to be the one to break it to them.” She sighed.  
“She just…lies to people?” 
“Yeah all the time.” She began digging in her desk for something.  “You said you worked with her?” “Yeah, I dropped her off here after work once…so I just thought..” Seokmin rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.  
“Oh you’re the one she was weird about!” “What?” “What? Nothing.” She began scribbling something on a slip of paper. “Here, this is her address, tell her Jane sent you.”  She handed him the paper and two lollipops.  
—-
A cautious knock rang through your apartment, which was confusing considering no one knew where you lived.  You unfolded yourself from the couch and padded to the door.  Seokmin was standing in the hallway and you almost slammed the door in his face.  
“What are you doing here?” You almost shrieked.  He held up two lollipops silently.  “Fuck, okay, uh…come in.” You stepped to the side allowing him entrance.  He shuffled past you, seeing another person standing in your tiny apartment was odd to say the least.  
“Hi,” Seokmin offered quietly while you were intently staring at the ground.  “It’s nice to see you.”
“I’m sorry my apartment is gross and cluttered and small.”  You muttered.  Seokmin looked around the apartment.  The cookbooks in the kitchen were piled almost as high as the refrigerator, the pink throw blanket on the couch made him smile, seeing a softness that no one else gets to see.  The living room was bathed in lamp light that made the shadows in the room look exaggerated and long.  The apartment was uniquely you and he loved it.  
“What?” He chuckled, “I don’t care what your apartment looks like, is this why you lied?” Your head snapped up at him calling you out so directly.  
“I never lied, I told you to drop me off there, not that I lived there.” You pointed out.  He gave you a look.  “I didn’t lie.”   
“Sure, maybe not,” he sighed.  
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, Seokmin had never seen you at a loss for words like this.  
“Look,” he took your hand, “that’s not why I’m here, it doesn’t matter.” You led him to the couch, moving the open textbook so that he could sit down.  Seeing him sitting on your couch was strange, seeing him here was not something you thought you would ever see.  “Are you okay?” He blurted out.  
“What?” You were taken aback, “of course, I’m fine.”
“You just haven’t been to work in a few days and after…the activities at my apartment I thought maybe you hated me, and–” “Woah!” You smiled, “why would I hate you? Seokmin, I took the week off to focus on finals week.”
“Oh.” He looked at you sheepishly. “Uh, well, how are they going?” You rolled your eyes.  
“Fine, I’ll pass, I miss work though.” You shrugged.  
“Just work?” “No, I miss the way Soonyoung runs out of the kitchen when he sees me.”
“Oh…” He dropped his gaze dejectedly.  “Hey!” He exclaimed as your fist connected with his arm.  
“I miss you, dumb ass.” “So you didn’t quit?” “No,” you looked at him, confused.  “You know you could have asked literally anyone where I was, right?”
“No one was talking about it! I thought we were all super sad about you quitting! I don’t know!” He gestured wildly with his hands.  “And…ugh, okay, you remember that one day like a month ago? When you were asleep in the dining room and I woke you up?”
“Yeah?” “I, uh, I saw what you were working on…the job applications.” He lowered his volume as if he was afraid you would explode.  “I thought you might’ve just up and left, you never liked me anyway, so you didn’t really have any reason to let me know.” 
“Oh,” you sighed.  “I’m sorry…” “Tell me you’ve changed your mind, you’re not leaving us.” “Seokmin….” 
“Is it because of me?”
“Maybe at first,” You started, you could see the tears well up in his eyes. “But now…if anything you’ve made it harder to leave.” 
“Where are you going?” He met your eyes again.  You reached out to swipe the tears that managed to escape.  
“I have a few offers, I don’t know yet.” 
“Of course you do,” he laughed sadly, took hold of your wrists,and rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs.  “You’re so talented any restaurant would be stupid to not offer you a job.” 
“That’s not what you said a few months ago.” You pointed out. 
“Well, you know how to julienne the carrots now.” 
“Hey!” You tried to push him away but he held you in place.  He glanced at your lips before leaning in to kiss you.  He kissed you softly, his lips tasted vaguely of salt and honey chapstick.  He let himself linger without deepening the kiss until he suddenly pulled back, looking panicked.  
“Those offers are for sous chef positions right?” 
“Of course they are, watch out, Chef Lee.”    
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Three years later
You stretch out on your couch after making the most of your day off.  With your recent promotion to head chef at Diamond you haven’t had a lot of time to relax.  With your new hectic schedule you were shocked that you were able to make it the entire day without getting a single call about the restaurant.  
A hand squeezed your calf gently.  You hummed at the contact.  
“I’ll make dinner tonight, love.” Seokmin mumbled sleepily from the other end of the couch.  
“No.” You stated simply.  
“Um, why not?” 
“‘The only thing worse than the tacky decor at Quartz and Serenity is the incompetence of the kitchen. If you’re looking for the exact opposite of what you asked for, this is the restaurant for you.’” You rattled off.  
“What are you doing?” Seokmin sat up, knocking your legs off the couch. 
“‘I would give them zero stars if I could!’” You stared at him, “‘I ordered a steak and it came out barely cooked at all! Will not be returning!’”
“Okay! In my defense on that one, she ordered a well done steak!” He threw his hands up.  “Who does that?” 
“MichelleJo1965, obviously.” You deadpanned.  
“When did you have time to dig through our Yelp reviews?” Seokmin scoffed, “I didn’t realize dating the competition meant I would have to defend myself at home.” 
“Step up your game, Head Chef Lee.” You shrugged.  “But seriously? She ordered a well done steak?” 
“She did! It’s not my fault she has no taste.” He shrugged.  “By the way I have plenty of great reviews, and I seem to remember my girlfriend really liking my cooking.” “You’re alright, I guess.” You shrugged.  “When are you going to ask me by the way?” 
“What?” He tried to stay calm, you could be talking about anything, certainly not the ring that has been staring at him from under his underwear for the last six months.  
“You really need to figure out where to hide things where I won’t find them” Wordlessly Seokmin got up from the couch and stomped into your shared bedroom.  For a split second you thought you might have pushed too far until he returned with the small velvet box.  
“I hope you at least left me one secret, you didn’t look at it did you?” He smiled sheepishly.  
“No, Min, I have no idea what it looks like, swear.” 
“Good,” to your surprise he sank down to one knee, right there in the living room. “You never were good at leaving well enough alone, I had a grander plan, but this seems much more our speed, huh?” You laughed.  “Will you marry me, even if my Yelp reviews suck sometimes?” He popped the small box open to reveal a ring.  
“Of course I will, you idiot.”   
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fflrrrtt · 9 days ago
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Recognition
(Pro-Hero Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)
Synopsis: After years of blood, sweat, and sleepless nights in medical school and residency, you’re offered the chance of a lifetime: a position as a physician in Japan. With the public interest in healthcare on the rise, the elite Medical Unit has just been established, and you don’t hesitate to accept.
You have a one-track mind: to excel. It’s expected. It’s career-focused. No distractions…until you cross paths with a certain blonde.
(total chapters: approx. 5): One, Two, Three, Four, Five
Note: This is highkey inspired by a post I read from @azzo0 where reader's a med student and I want to explore this profession for this short-chapter fic I'm cooking. I also want to take this time to say that reading the works of @ofmermaidstories , @andypantsx3 , @willowser , and @thetrashywritingwitch for literal YEARS actually pushed me to brush-off my writer's block and cultivate my writing skills. So if you see this, tysm muah <3 - from a not-so-popular fic author.
Enjoy!
“Pro Hero Dynamight surged from rank 15 to 5!” The newscaster’s voice was loud and proud, and the sounds of explosions could be heard from the television placed on the wall. Then, the screen pans to a familiar green-haired man, One for All Hero, Deku, speaking gently to the cheery live reporter as Dynamight stood by him, brooding as usual. It was the aftermath of a villain fight—a quick fight at that. 
“They really got the public hooked, huh?” Dr. Miyano says before she shoves rice and curry into her mouth using the spoon she bought at a merchandise store, it was a minimalist design of Creati. The cafeteria was filled with chirpy health professionals—some were talking to each other, some watching TV, and some were ready for seconds as they stood up, went back to the cafeteria line, and already dished out their debit cards and IDs to be scanned. 
“I’m not surprised,” you remarked, sloshing the ready-to-go glass of coffee you just ordered at the vending machine. Ever since the new generation of heroes rose, the crime rate plummeted and, of course, the heroes gained a shit ton of popularity, especially the U.A alumnis because they played key role in defeating Shigaraki and All for One, “they literally saved Japan and the whole world by extension.” 
Lunch went by in a blur—literally because it’s only a 30-minute duration. You and Miyano walked into the physician’s lounge, greeting coworkers and putting the now-empty bentos in your respective lunch bags. “You think we’re gonna meet them?” Dr. Miyano says aloud, zipping her lunch bag. 
You snide, “yeah, we’ll meet them one on one if we’re…A, we’re in the middle of a villain attack.  B, we’re tending to them, and C, one of us is in the Medical Unit, which is a competitive sector. Totally easy.” you fix your white coat and apply lip gloss—you gotta atleast look presentable even though you were running on only two hours sleep from the damn graveyard shift you took last night. “Alright, I’ll see you later.” At that, you left the room to do your patient rounds, prescribe medicine in doctor appointments, and the like. 
After your afternoon shift, you headed to a nice cafe—to unwind and do a quick email browse before you shut your damn brain off. Upon entering, you were met with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, calming your nerves. Soft jazz plays in the background as guests sink into plush chairs, sipping lattes and chatting beneath shelves lined with well-loved books. You greeted the barista, flashing a curt smile before stating your order, and this time, you added a pastry—you know, just to treat yourself after your tiring shift.
Sitting on a comfortable plush chair, you bring out your laptop, turn it on, and start browsing through your emails, double-checking to ensure you don’t miss a single damn thing. A notification popped up from your calendar: GUN SHOOTING RANGE at noon this Saturday. An open tab of an online shop that you’ve been browsing last night. Rubbing your eyes, you look out the window in thought. It’s easy to get burnt out when you overwork yourself, which you knew ever since you chose to be in pre-med during your undergraduate years. You honestly thought of being a hero, entering as a hero medic, but it was just never for you.
A familiar barista approaches you, holding a tray of your order, breaking you out of your stupor. You smile again as he places them on the cool wooden table. “Thanks. How’s the college thus far, Ben?” you ask.
“It’s ok! The Japanese literature class is lowkey kicking my ass.” he says, rubbing the back of his head, “Kinda started to question the major I chose, but how about you, doc? I remember you briefly brought up a Medical Unit application.”
Oh my fuck. I was literally avoiding to think about this shit, damnit. You’ve been doing a great job suppressing this feeling of what? Butterflies? No—it’s maggots, definitely. You stirred your drink, taking a sip to act unaffected, “It’s going to be released tomorrow.” You say as cool as a cucumber, but mentally? Oh girl, your mind is doing laps. 
“Well, you’ll definitely get in! You’re one of the hardest-working doctors I’ve met. That’s not me trying to mooch off of you or anything. I’m just being truthful,” 
“Thanks. I hope.” The conversation ended when one of his coworkers called his name, leaving you alone with your thoughts and idling laptop. After a while, you left, seemingly satisfied with the quick relaxation you had using public transit to head home. 
The sun begins to set, coloring the sky a dark hue, and the stars start to fill up space, shining bright as you pressed a code to enter the condominium building. The place is neither super luxurious nor janky. Your condo is simple, yet spacious and affordable. Your mom really did make sure that you’re financially literate. You changed out of your work clothes, followed your nightly routine, and not giving a damn about the outside world. It didn’t take long for you to drift to sleep minutes after taking a melatonin pill.
-
“Ma, you don’t have to worry a goddamn thing. I’ll take care of it,” you grumble, phone placed by your ear, walking out of the train station with purpose, it’s early morning and your back hurts from the fuck ass mattress you slept on last night “I’ll pay for my little brother’s tuition. All I want from you is to relax! Goodness sake, I know you’re handling grandfather’s business, and it’s stressful. Just don’t worry about—” A public commotion cuts you off, “I’ll call you later.” You hang up, eye twitching because the short route you always go to is filled with crowds of people. It’s literally 7 am..what could be happening now?! 
“Red Riot!! We love you!!” a man screams, people gushing over the unbreakable hero. The two police cars are there to put the handcuffed villain in the vehicle. 
Red Riot chuckled, and you could just sense the signature panty-dropping shark-toothed grin he’d show to the public. Hell, even guys admit they have a crush on this guy and bought the Red Riot-themed calendar. As much as you would like to see the hero in person, you have work to do, so you briskly walk to a different path. “Hey, miss!” his voice was loud, and you thought none of it until you felt a tap on the shoulder. You turned around, and lo and behold. The hero stands before you. He’s tall as hell, clad in his hero uniform, “Oh..uh, doc, you dropped this.” he hands you your condo key. 
Your brain buffered for a quick second, “Thanks,” you took the key, “I didn’t notice.” “It’s okay!” he smiles, and it looked like he was expecting something from you, but eventually settled with, “hope you have a great day!” 
“Yeah. You too..!” You walked away while the crowd went even wilder. You missed the way Dynamite arrived at the scene, red piercing eyes glancing at you before calling out to him in a raspy voice. 
And at the physician’s lounge? You were surrounded by your colleagues, asking so many questions about your interaction with the hero. “Omg, what was he like?”
“He’s so damn fine. Did you take pictures with him? An autograph?”
“Did you ask for his number?” “I would sell my kidney for him.”  
You admitted that you didn’t ask him for anything and just expressed appreciation for picking up your house key. Of course, they clowned you, but you just laughed it off. However, the atmosphere soon shifted as everyone received a message from the medical director’s assistant about a meeting. Your heart dropped outta your ass as everyone hurried to the big meeting room, feeling excited, nervous, and curious. 
Once everyone is situated, the well-esteemed director, Dr. Lee, stands unwavering at the podium. That alone has every health professional sit up and take notice. His eyes were sharp behind the wire-rimmed glasses. “Good Morning. As you are all aware, the Medical Unit has announced the results for the top three ‘pillars’.” He paused for dramatic effect, and it didn’t fail. Everyone stilled; it was pure silence. You seriously heard someone gulp behind you, and you fight the urge to bite your fingernails. Fuck.
“And I’ve received a memo that one of you was chosen out of the thousands of applicants across Japan,” he continues, “It is commendable and we couldn’t be any prouder.” his assistant comes up to him, handing a small envelope. The silence stretches, and the tension is palpable. You literally felt all your senses shutting down like you’re astral projecting. “The Medical Unit is a new sector that integrates medicine in not just the hero world, but also the general, support, and management courses. This cultivates an expansive understanding.” The rest of Dr. Lee’s explanation of the Medical unit became static to you, in exchange of mulling over your brave choice of applying. 
It’s not like you’re not confident in your abilities. Hell, you managed to get into a top medical school. You’re well-rounded and you know the ropes. You’ve dealt with the real shit outside academics, molding you into a strong professional that you are today…It’s just that sometimes those intrusive thoughts have their way of making you overthink and compare yourself to others. Are your credentials enough? Is this laughable? Are you stupid for believing that you have a shot at this? All you want is to excel in life and thrive. Maybe be someone in this world. Make a mark that influences those around you…
 All of your thoughts dissipated when you felt a nudge on your arm from Miyano, “Dude. dude.” 
“..huh?” You blinked, and all of a sudden, you felt all eyes on you, including the medical director, whose eyebrow was raised. Your eyes dart everywhere, making eye contact with everyone. “I assume you’re Dr. L/N.” Dr. Lee’s voice echoes. 
“Yes. I am,” you said aloud, not showing any weakness. Eyes resolved. Posture assertive and ready, bracing yourself to be told that you’re rejected from the Medical Unit. 
“Congratulations.” And that was not something you’re ready for. 
Thank you for reading! Oh and I totes enjoy feedback, asks, anything!!! Keep an eye out for updates! Oh and if anyone wants to be added on my tag list, lmk!!! My ao3 is flrtt
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internetdaddy98 · 23 days ago
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The Endgame - Final Chapter
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Previous | [Series Masterlist]
Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: You and Robby return home after Thanksgiving with your family, finding comfort in each other's presence. Word Count: 1.1 K
The apartment was quiet when they arrived back from Thanksgiving with Sheridan’s family. The usual hum of the city outside and the soft ticking of the clock in the corner of the living room made the space feel like a peaceful retreat, away from the hectic pace of their everyday lives. It was just the two of them now, Y/N and Robby, and the comfort of her apartment seemed to embrace them, as if the walls had always been meant for these quiet, shared moments.
You had already kicked off your shoes by the door, your coat tossed over the back of a chair. Robby hung his up and followed you into the kitchen. You had a soft smile on your lips as you moved around, untying your scarf and letting your wavy hair fall freely. The scent of cinnamon and roasting vegetables still lingered in the air, reminding you of the warmth you had just left behind with her family.
“Home,” You said, glancing over your shoulder at him, your voice light and content. There was something about the way you said it, like the word had taken on a new meaning for you both. Home wasn’t just your apartment anymore. It was wherever you found each other.
Robby leaned against the counter, watching you with a quiet affection. "You sure you want me here? I can always come back tomorrow."
You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Stop. You’re not leaving. We have a whole weekend to ourselves.” You pulled open the fridge, scanning its contents. “What do you want for dinner?”
It was a familiar question, but this time, the sense of possibility in the air was different. It wasn’t just a casual question anymore; it was a gesture that symbolized something much deeper. A domestic rhythm that hadn’t existed before. It was yours.
“How about we cook something together?” Robby suggested, stepping closer to you.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Cook? You sure you can handle it?”
Robby chuckled. “I’ve been handling trauma cases for decades. I think I can handle a kitchen.” He winked, reaching for a knife from the block. "What are we making?"
“Chicken Parmesan?” you proposed, already pulling ingredients from the fridge. “We can make it from scratch. You can be in charge of the sauce.”
Robby grinned, stepping to the counter beside you. “Deal.” He rolled up his sleeves, his eyes softening with a touch of something that felt new for him. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
And just like in the ER, you fell into a rhythm. You would chop, and Robby would sauté. There was an easy, practiced flow to your movements, an unspoken communication between you, honed from months of working side by side. You moved around each other like a well-oiled machine, finishing each other’s sentences, anticipating each other’s needs. It was the same teamwork you shared in the emergency room, but now, it was in the kitchen.
“You’re not burning the garlic, are you?” you asked, glancing at him with a teasing smile.
“No, no. I’ve got this,” Robby replied, focusing on the pan in front of him. “I’m not that bad, you know.”
You chuckled softly, wiping your hands on a towel. “We’ll see. If the sauce tastes bad, you’re sleeping on the couch.”
Robby shot you a look of mock outrage. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” you said playfully, tapping him with the towel.
You shared a laugh, the kind of laughter that felt like a promise, light, easy, and filled with warmth.
As you moved through the evening, your tasks shifted. Robby set the table, then poured two glasses of wine. You stirred the sauce, checking the flavors one last time before plating the meal. You sat down at the table, your hands brushing as you passed each other food. The atmosphere between you was comfortable, easy. It wasn’t about grand gestures or flashy declarations; it was the simple act of being together. Of sharing a meal you’d made together, in the quiet of your apartment, with only the sound of soft music in the background.
You sipped your wine, glancing at Robby with a thoughtful expression. You seemed to be weighing something in your mind, your gaze lingering on him as if you were about to say something important.
Robby, sensing the shift, put down his glass and gave you a soft, patient smile. “What is it?”
You took a deep breath, a small but significant pause before speaking. “I want you to move in with me.”
Robby’s heart skipped a beat. The words were simple, but the weight they carried was heavier than anything he’d felt in a while. He set his glass down carefully, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/N...” His voice faltered, but it was only for a second. He tried to steady himself. “Are you sure? I mean..”
“I’m sure.” You interrupted, your voice steady and sincere. You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table as you studied him. “I want to wake up with you every day. I don’t want to keep doing this... back-and-forth thing. I want us to live together. For real. For good.”
Robby was quiet for a long moment, processing your words. The idea of being with you every day, of coming home to you, felt like a dream he never thought he could have. But now, with everything you’d been through, everything you’d built, it felt like the most natural next step.
He let out a slow breath, his hand reaching across the table to take yours. “You make it sound so easy.”
Your smile was warm, genuine, full of affection. “It is easy. It just feels... right. Doesn’t it?”
He nodded, squeezing your hand. “Yeah. It feels right.”
You sat there for a while, just holding hands and basking in the shared quiet. It was the kind of peace that only came after years of chaos, the kind that had been hard won. And now, in this kitchen, with the promise of a future together, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.
Robby leaned back in his chair, his eyes soft with affection as he watched you. He felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, something he’d never thought he would find after all these years of holding onto his walls. But now, with you beside him, he knew for certain that all those walls had been worth breaking down.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet awe.
You smiled, her eyes bright with understanding. “Me neither.”
And for the first time in a long time, Robby allowed himself to believe in something real. Something lasting.
You finished your dinner in comfortable silence, the kind that only two people who truly understood each other could share. And as the evening wore on, you found yourselves curled up on the couch together, the weight of the world outside forgotten. You were together. And that was enough. ——————————————————————————————— I'm sorry it took so long to get this out!!! I have become a frequent flyer at my local ER T_T @rosiepoise88 @nosebeers @andabuttonnose @luvr4miya @cannonindeez @hagarsays @captainoates @lemonlime09 @delicateflorencia @iceb1ink1uck @moonshooter @qardasngan @penbridgertonn @foreverchangingfandoms @msdariaknight @kmc1989 @trustme3-13 @ilikestuffs-stuff @letstryagaintomorrow @steviebbboi @jazzimac1967 @foolishseven @catmomstyles3 @oklahomapeach
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vaspider · 1 year ago
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If you have celiac or otherwise can't eat wheat, btw, and you like bread, I highly recommend investing in a breadmaker. Even the best store-bought gluten-free bread does not hold a candle to the stuff that comes out of our breadmaker, and it's cheaper per slice even when we buy bread mix in single-loaf bags.
This is our breadmaker. Evie got it on sale, but it is an investment. I'm not going to pretend it isn't a chunk of change up front. There are cheaper ones, but the reason I like this one and think it's worth the money:
It has two smaller paddles, where our older bread maker that my mom got us and got destroyed by getting construction dust in it had one big paddle in the middle. This leaves a big hole in the middle of the finished loaf, which makes the bread much less useful for, like, sandwiches.
Zojirushi is not as well-known a brand in the US, but it's a Brand Name in Japan for good reason. Evie's had our Zojirushi rice cooker for over a decade & we had to replace the inner bowl once bc someone used metal utensils in it and scratched the non-stick coating. We expect to use this machine for at least a decade.
You can program your own cycles, which we found really useful. Evie built a custom cycle that removed the punch-down sections (gluten-free bread tends not to rise as much) and that made our perfect loaf.
A lot of bread machines produce very tall, square loaves, which are awkward to slice, store, and make sandwiches with. This produces loaves that make good sandwiches and toast, and the French toast slices don't crowd the pan.
The top heating element on this gives a really amazingly browned top crust that we definitely didn't get on our old machine.
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It's so pretty.
So how is it cheaper in the long run if the machine costs $300+? A little like this:
We use Pamela's Bread Mix bc it's really consistent and easy - you need the bread mix, water, yeast, 3 egg whites, and oil. (We use avocado oil and find it best and most consistent, but regular vegetable oil works!) We buy Pamela's in bulk, and without any subscription discounts or whatever, the $48 pack of 3 bags makes about 11.5 loaves. With the cost of yeast and eggs and stuff, it ends up costing about $4.50 a loaf. (If you buy your yeast in larger bags & store it in an airtight container, you can create less waste and it's also cheaper.)
By comparison, a loaf of Franz GF Bread costs $7-8, and Canyon Bakehouse usually runs about the same.
However, that's not an apples to apples comparison because the Franz loaf is an 18 oz. loaf, whereas our breadmaker makes a 2 lb. loaf. Assuming even the lower-end cost for getting a Franz loaf at the store, an equivalent amount of bread would cost $12.42, and it's not nearly as good.
(Yes, gluten-free bread is fucking expensive. That's part of why I'm writing this post in the first place.)
Anyway, assuming you eat 2 lbs. of bread a week in your house - a breadmaker loaf, basically, to make the math simple - you'll end up spending $7.92 less on bread every week. That means that even at the most expensive cost for the Zojirushi, if you buy it at its highest price (don't do that! wait for a sale!) it'll take 50 weeks - about a year - before the breadmaker pays for itself. If you manage to get it on a 25% off sale (which we did), it pays for itself in about 9 months.
Nine months, I must stress, in which you are eating much more delicious bread.
We tend to go through a couple of loaves a week because toast, sandwiches, and melts are great food for people with low spoons.
Evie and I perfected the Pamela's mix recipe for this particular machine - I'll get it typed up when I'm downstairs next, along with the quasi-babka recipe. (Really, it's like a marble cake and babka and bread had a baby, and it's a family favorite.)
Bread good. The end.
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maincharactermuse · 18 days ago
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THE ONE WHERE SHE FLIRTED. (1)
(Find my master list here.)
The café opened at seven.
Y/N liked to be there by six — when the streets of Hampstead were still quiet, still belonged to the foxes and delivery vans and the occasional jogger. Inside, the café was warm and quiet, her own little world slowly waking up.
She flicked on the lights, warm-hued bulbs strung across beams, soft glows from mismatched sconces. The space came to life gently. Wooden tables, each slightly different in shape and history, were paired with an eclectic mix of chairs, some thrifted, some inherited, none boring. Plants trailed from shelves and hung in hand-tied macramé, their leaves glossy from her near-religious watering schedule. The walls bore hand-drawn chalk art and framed polaroids from over the years - regulars, staff birthdays, someone’s dog that had become a café mascot.
This place was hers.
She’d built it from scratch, scraped together savings, worked long hours, painted every wall herself. After the accident - after the grief had nearly consumed her - this café had been her lifeline. Every batch of sourdough, every grind of coffee beans, every song that played from the vintage speaker tucked behind the counter: it all meant something. This was her heart stitched into bricks and mortar.
“Morning, boss,” came Ryan’s voice, already halfway through steaming milk as if he owned the place… which, to be fair, he sometimes acted like he did.
“Morning, Ry. You beat me?”
“I slept with a barista last night and had to sneak out early anyway. Figured I’d make myself useful.”
Y/N laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m charming,” Ryan corrected. “And I make a mean oat flat white.”
Jules had already started banging pans in the kitchen, her signature cinnamon buns baking up warm and sticky. Toby, hood up and earbuds in, was unstacking chairs and pretending not to hear Ryan singing along to Stevie Nicks.
It was shaping up to be a good day.
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The morning rush came in waves with joggers and freelancers, mums with prams, a local poet who always asked for hot water with lemon and then stayed for hours writing in the corner.
The bell above the door jingled, low, familiar, and Y/N didn’t even glance up at first. She was focused on the group order in front of her: two cappuccinos, one chai, an oat cortado with extra cinnamon. It was muscle memory by now, her hands moving with practiced ease.
But then she felt it - that subtle shift. A stillness, just behind the usual hum of the café. Not dramatic. Just… different.
She looked up.
The man who had walked in stood just inside the doorway, shoulders slightly hunched like someone trying not to draw attention but somehow doing exactly that. He wore a simple black coat, dark sunglasses, and a beanie pulled low over his curls. Not that tall, but his presence filled the room like warmth flooding in through a window cracked just open.
He glanced around, then made his way to the counter.
“Hi,” he said, voice soft. “Could I just get a flat white, please?”
“Just a flat white?” she asked, brow raised playfully.
He smiled faintly. “Unless you’re telling me I’ve made a mistake.”
“Well, it’s not wrong, per se, but it’s a little… safe.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Is this how you treat all your customers? Shame their drink orders?”
“Only the ones who seem like they can take it.”
He tilted his head slightly, amused. “I’ll brave the judgement.”
She grabbed a cup. “Name for the order?”
He hesitated for half a beat. “Harry.”
She nodded. “Alright, Harry. Let’s get you something barely passable.”
Behind her, Ryan leaned against the pastry case, arms crossed, silently watching the whole interaction with an eyebrow halfway to heaven. But he didn’t say anything. Not yet.
As she started the machine, Y/N noticed the man, Harry, glancing around the café. His eyes lingered on the corner table where sunlight pooled in a perfect golden wash across the reclaimed wood.
“That one,” she said, nodding toward it, “gets the best light until about eleven.”
He looked back at her, eyes curious behind the sunglasses. “Good to know. Is it reserved?”
“For people with excellent taste in natural lighting? Yes.”
His smile widened. “And judgmental baristas?”
“Also yes.”
She passed him the coffee, a real one, actually good, and their fingers brushed just slightly. Not enough to mean anything, but enough to notice.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Try not to spill it,” she teased. “The seat might be perfect but the tables are uneven.”
“I’ll live dangerously.”
He turned and made his way to the corner table, and as he settled in, the light hit him just right - soft and gold and quiet.
Y/N blinked a little, feeling like the air had shifted again.
Behind her, Ryan cleared his throat.
She turned.
“What?”
“Was that you flirting?” he asked, completely deadpan.
“Flirting? No. I don’t flirt.”
Ryan scoffed. “Babe. You flirted. You did the eyebrow thing. You told him his drink was boring. That’s textbook Y/N banter-flirting.”
“I was serving a customer,” she insisted.
“Call it what you want, but that was banter and blushes, babe. Banter. And. Blushes.”
“I did not blush.”
“You’re blushing now.”
She grabbed a cloth and chucked it at his shoulder. “Go do the dishes with Jules.”
Ryan grinned and sauntered off. “Love is in the air!” he sang on the way to the back.
Toby, still arranging chairs near the front, looked up and offered dryly, “That was definitely flirting.”
She pointed a warning finger. “This is your second week. Be kind.”
He shrugged. “Just saying. You never tease anyone who orders a flat white unless they’re hot.”
Y/N’s face flared warmer than she wanted to admit. “Go restock the napkins or something.”
———————————————————————————
As the hour passed, the café settled into its morning rhythm. Harry stayed tucked into his corner, writing in a notebook, occasionally sipping his coffee with quiet satisfaction.
And just before he left, he came back to the counter.
“That was genuinely one of the best coffees I’ve had in a while,” he said.
“Well,” she replied, arms crossed over her apron, “next time maybe you’ll order something more adventurous. Give me a challenge.”
He smiled again, tucking the notebook under his arm. “I’ll try to impress you.”
“Tall order.”
He lifted the cup slightly in a mock toast. “Thanks again. For the recommendation… and the abuse.”
“My pleasure.”
And just like that, he slipped out the door and the bell jingled behind him.
The bell jingled behind him.
Y/N stared at the space where he’d stood, a little too long.
Then Ryan’s voice came from the back, sing-song and smug: “Told you.”
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m00ngirl777 · 4 months ago
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Maple Syrup, Coffee, Pancakes for Two
Peter Parker x Reader
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kiss number...3
That wonderful fuzzy felling, bright morning, soft covers, great night sleep, and the warm and loving touch of the person beside you, embracing you. As consciousness slowly took over, you decided this was the best feeling there could be and after that, fresh fluffy pancakes on a slow Saturday morning. You enjoyed the rare view of a calm sleeping Peter, he had worked above and beyond as Peter Parker, average science genius, and as Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood crime fighter, even him, as super powered as he comes, needed the rest, you placed a soft kiss to his hair and carefully got out of bed, as tired as he might be heighten senses are heighten senses.
summary: Kitchen, morning, sleepy peter
A/N: just a little domestic Peter for the soul, anyways hope you love it, thxx for reading, love u, byeeee. xoxo. -N.
p.s. my requests are open my loves<333
tw: none I think, my writing lol.
wc: 940
That wonderful fuzzy felling, bright morning, soft covers, great night sleep, and the warm and loving touch of the person beside you, embracing you. As consciousness slowly took over, you decided this was the best feeling there could be and after that, fresh fluffy pancakes on a slow Saturday morning. You enjoyed the rare view of a calm sleeping Peter, he had worked above and beyond as Peter Parker, average science genius, and as Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood crime fighter, even him, as super powered as he comes, needed the rest, you placed a soft kiss to his hair and carefully got out of bed, as tired as he might be heighten senses are heighten senses.
Milk, vinegar, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, eggs, and butter, you mentally read through the memorized pancake recipe in one of the corners of your mind, you don’t even remember where you got it from, you loved cooking, specially if it was for someone you loved, someone like Peter, food has always been a love language, even if your dad didn’t have the first idea on how to toast bread or boil water, you couldn’t count the times you shared a plain cheese burger, a donut with sprinkles, a pizza he could only get because he flew in his iron man suit to get it for you. No wonder where you got the particular trait from, you just actually learned to use a pan. 
You knew the drill, mix the dry and wet ingredients separately, then slowly bring them together, but not too much, leave the batter perfectly thick, because who likes flat pancakes. Pan already on the stove, always lightly coated with salted butter, as your pancakes fluffed up on the low heat waiting for the bubbles to form, you pulled out some maple syrup, the real kind that came from Canada, and an arrange of berries out of your fridge, by the time you rinsed and dried the fruit it was time to flip your first batch of two pancakes, while pouring the second batch an idea popped into your head, bacon. 
As the bacon fried you started plating, you had checked on Peter a few moments ago and he was still deep in sleep, you decided to simply bring breakfast to him, you pulled out one of those bed trays from the pantry, you arranged two medium sized plates with pancakes and one little plate with the crispy bouncy bacon and the small syrup jug. Before taking the tray back to your bedroom, you started the coffee machine, you grabbed your cup and lined it with some of that maple syrup and a sprinkle of sea salt, then set it under the machine to brew on the cappuccino feature, while that was done you carefully picked the tray and walked it to where he slept, so calmly. You placed it on the tall table at the foot of the bed and went back to the kitchen, you brewed a second cup of coffee, a simple but strong americano, as it brewed you rummaged to the fridge to find the sweat cream Peter liked to paint his coffee with, once you found it you poured enough to turn it a rich shade of caramel brown. Finally, with both cups of coffee you once again walked to the bedroom and placed them on your nightstand, you climbed into bed and on top of peters naked torso, he was laying face down, half hugging a pillow, completely unbothered by the noise and movement you could make.
“Peter,” You kissed the spot where his neck and upper back met, he made an adorable little sound and further hugged the pillow he was half-lying on, “good morning, baby,” you hugged his perfectly sculpted back and swung a leg on top of his hip, nuzzling into the back of his neck. 
Peter hummed to your touch, slowly coming into his senses, after a moment he turned, eyes still closed, he pulled you into him, your face now in his chest, you pulled away just enough to gently grab his face and give him a soft kiss to the lips, as you pulled away he finally opened his deer like eyes, “good morning,” he kissed your forehead.
“I made breakfast,” you said, pulling yourself up from him, turing to the food on the table and back to him, giving him a soft smile, the way he looked at you was that of pure adoration, slowly he pulled himself up too and, with a gentle but strong hand to the back of your neck, pulled you closer to him, to give you another sweet kiss on the lips, followed by a trail of pecks from the corner of your mouth to your temple, “I love you,” he whispered to your ear, his thumb caressed the spot behind your ear and looked deeply into your eyes, one more time he pulled you into him you closed your eyes expecting your lips to meet, instead he aimed for your right eyelid and placed the softest kiss there, a current of sorts ran from the top of your head, to the base of your neck, all through your spine, if you hadn’t been already halfway lying down on your bed you were sure your knees would given up from the feeling alone. You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into him, you gave his neck a quick kiss.
“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” you said.
“Of course, baby,” You reached for the food and coffee, giving you the loveliest start to what seemed to be the perfect day.
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adinathinternationalindia · 10 months ago
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In order to prevent scorching of hearts, coating machines are equipped with an interlocked electrical circuit that allows heaters to work only after the blower switch is turned “on.” In order to prevent dirt or contaminated drugs from collecting, the SS Pan Mouth ring coating is welded at the rim cavities. Standard machine with an induction motor, helical gearbox, and all-name electronic controls. On-demand thermostat control is available. Gear boxes and other electrical components, such as motors, can be flame- and explosion-proof at customer request. We produce coating pans in sizes ranging from 48 inches for industrial use to 8 inches for small use.
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tanukitsuneko-suki · 3 months ago
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kabuto episode 2 thoughts:
- [about kagami] this boy truly has so much anger in his heart
- okay i paid more attention to the op and it has tendou, kagami, and hiyori in it for the trio focus
- oh.... he's cooking again....
- hiyori can communicate with machines better than humans. she can probably sense machine souls? maybe this is the real appearance of the things they use to transform
- why do i have a feeling that he's gonna be doing this kind of shot every single time
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- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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- oh my god LMAO uhh tendou lay off on his case man, he's a bit of a naive idiot </3
- ok the set up is clearer to me now. still deciding the way i like it though. the tendou/ace allegations make SO much sense. i was trying to think of a ship to compare it with besides k3i@ce and the way they banter reminds me of lelouch and suzaku XDDD the problem is... you see... i grew up as a szll fan and now i'm llsz...so as for how i'll like them...i still don't have answers....
- WAUGH. NEW GUY IN A TRENCH COAT
- "wait for me tendou!!' :DDD!! your main goal is to save him?? "this time i will fight!" DDDDD: it's not..??
- i thought he wanted to save civilians but he probably js felt emasculated </3 i hate men
- huh. okay. so he says this and it cuts to the zecter sure (which cant get in the building, as tendou confirmed to the worm while expositing) but it pans below to kagami and okay. okay i see. who is the "he" you're talking about. stop making me overthink in circles
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- tch
- of course it would magically drill a hole below ground because it's tendou fucking souji
- that whisper of henshin is a little too sexy. i wonder what the audition pitch for this character was
- aaahhhhhhh.... so tendou really is the main character. i kinda thought he's just a handsome cool guy you guys liked a lot
- kagami is interesting so dissect so far because the signals i'm getting from his character motivation conflicts a lot and i can't pin it down for sure. one moment he's angry and swearing revenge, and the other he is risking his life for a guy that couldn't care less about him and is a major obstacle to the power he wants to attain. what goes in your head little guy
- can't really hate kagami for trying his best to help tendou with the scant knowledge he has lol
- pfft... even his badass bike was stolen from him.. kagami........
- budget must be pretty high back then if they can explode two cars in ep2
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ravenromanova · 2 years ago
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I don’t like gifts
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Parings: Loki x Female reader
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE!!!! Master kink, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (m and f), Squirting, Praise kink. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18+!!! Slight angst with happy ending, Fluffy Loki.
Kinkmas masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~ You smiled as you put the finishing touches on the final gift for your team. This specific gift though you spent extra time in picking out and wrapping wanting to make sure it was perfect. Granted the person it was for didn’t like gifts and thought the whole holiday was stupid. But you ended up getting him some nonetheless because he deserves something nice.
Once you finished you put all the presents in a bag and headed to the living room. The sounds of christmas music and laughter filled your ears as you walked into the room. There sat your family, the people who you loved more than anything sitting around the fireplace. Smiles adorned everyone’s face as they exchanged gifts and shared stories. The only person you didn’t see though was Loki though which wasn’t surprising but still a little disappointing.
“Heya sunshine!” Steve beamed as he walked up and took the bag of presents from you to help you. “Are these for the whole team?” He asked a little shocked with how much you got everyone.
“Uh yea i might’ve gone a little overboard” You responded a little sheepishly. Steve sat the gifts next to the tree where Tony and Pepper handing out gifts to everyone.
“Might’ve is an understatement sunshine” Tony chimed in as you sat on the couch next to Wanda. You smiled shyly as Tony started handing out the gifts you got for everyone.
Bucky got two new knives and a book about astrology. Natasha received a new thigh holster and gun. Wanda got more of her favorite painting supplies. Vision got a book called “emotions for dummies” which everyone found hysterical. You got Clint new arrows to which he thanked you profusely since Kate lost all of his and you also gave him gifts for his family. Peter got new comic books. Steve got a new sketch pad and pencils. Kate got a new super suit and Lucky got a pizza toy. Yelena got three bottles of vodka and a knife. Tony and Pepper got an all expenses paid trip to cancun for a week. Morgan got endless barbie dolls and stuffed animals. Thor got ten big boxes of pop tarts. Bruce got a new lab coat and a bunch of sciencey books you didn’t understand. Pietro received three hoodies and new running shoes that he’d been wanting for a while. You also got the guardians and Carol gifts but they weren’t on earth right now so they get them when they came back. And last but not least you got Loki a first addition of pride and prejudice, two new knives with gold and green details engraved, a new journal with feather pens and a soft dark green blanket.
The reactions everyone gave to their gifts made your heart grow three sizes. Pretty much everyone gave you a hug… even the bionic staring machine which took you by surprise. And on the flip side you got more gifts than you thought possible.
Tony gave you five grand in cash. Pepper got you a huge basket of self care goodies. Morgan gave you multiple drawings of you and her doing her favorite things together. Nat and Wanda gave you a spa gift certificate claiming you need to relax more. Vision gave you the new pots and pans set you’d been wanting forever. Clint and Kate along with his family got you a puppy you named “Lucy” and some new hoodies. Bucky gave you a knife to which you both laughed. Bruce and Steve teamed up and got you atleast fifteen books. Thor gave you endless sweets and candy. Yelena gave you five bottles of your favorite liquor. Peter gave you a new supersuit that him and Tony designed specially for you. Pietro thoughtfully got you some soft throw blankets, slippers and a new stuffed unicorn.
Needless to say by the end of the gift exchange you never felt so loved by everyone. The night ended around one am when everyone decided to head to bed. But fortunately for you this was your time to give Loki his gifts. You knew he was more than likely hiding out in the library not wanting to deal with humans and their stupid holiday. So once everyone bid goodnight you gathered his gifts and headed to the library.
And of course when you entered the library there he was in all his glory. He was sitting in the bay window is the library reading a book with a slight smile on his face. The light of the moon hit his face lightly and made him look even more ethereal than normal.
“Hey Lo” You said softly as you approached him with all his gifts in hands.
“Hello” Was all he replied with making you frown a little.
“You weren’t at the gift exchange “ You stated with your brows furrowed causing him to look up at you.
“That is correct” His voice was gruff as he spoke making your knees a little weak and your heart sped up.
“Well i know you think this holiday is dumb but i still got you some gifts” Your words caused him to raise his eyebrows at you and scoff a little.
“I don’t like gifts” He said as he closed the book and turned to fully face you. The way his eyes bore into your soul made you even more nervous about giving him the gifts than before.
“Yeah well i still got you some so deal with it” The sassiness of your words surprised the both of you. He smirked and nodded his head a little telling you to hand him the gifts. You swallow your nerves and hand him the wrapped gifts with shaky hands.
Loki takes the gifts and starts unwrapping them one by one inspecting each of them as he goes. You watched as his eyes lit up as he ran his fingers across the lettering on the book, how he moved the new blades in between his fingertips, his fingers grasped the dark green fabric of the blanket and he smiled softly, and you swore he giggled a little at the new journal and pens.
“I take it back” He said suddenly as he looks at all the gifts. “I love gifts” The smile that adorned his face made your heart melt.
“You like them?” You asked nervously. Loki then stood up and took your hands into his and his blue green eyes stared into your soul.
“y/n i love them” He said honestly and you smiled brightly at his words. His hands moved up your arms and then cupped the sides of your face. “Tell me if you want me to stop” He whispered as he leaned in.
“Dont stop” You whispered back looking up at him. That was all it took for his lips to crash into yours and bring you in for a bruising and passionate kiss. The both of you simultaneously moaned at the taste of each other.
You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even notice that he teleported you two to his room. But eventually you had to come up for air which is when you finally realized.
“I like your room” The words were soft as they left your lips. Your eyes scanned his room and you took in the dark green couch, extremely soft looking bedding and the ancient paintings that adorned the walls. The room was decorated just like you thought it would be.
“I think you’ll like it a lot better on my bed” His boldness made you weak in the knees and arousal pool in between your thighs.
“I think i would too” You said with a smile as you climbed onto his bed. “Oh yea this is definitely better” Loki smiled as he watched you sprawl out on his bed.
“You most certainly belong there pet” His voice was low and his eyes darkened as he slowly crawled on top of you. “Such a pretty pet” He cooed rubbing his calloused fingers over your cheekbones.
“I need you” The pleading look in your eyes made his cock stir in his pants. He then flicked his wrist and suddenly you were fully naked underneath him.
“I’m going to ruin you for any other man” He husked in your ear causing a shiver to course through your body. His rough hands trailed up and down your body as he admired your beauty.
Loki slowly cupped your face again and brought you in for a much more passionate and loving kiss. He snaked his hand in between your thighs as he kissed you making you moan in his mouth.
“So wet for me” He kissed below your ear before he sat on his knees and looked at your pussy with desire. He smiled again before he decided to get comfortable in between your thighs.
Your brows furrowed in confusion . “W-What are you doing?” Your voice was laced in nervousness as you looked directly into his eyes.
“I need to taste your pet” And without any further explanation his tongue darted out and licked a bold strip asking your folds.
“Oh god!” The sensation of his warm mouth on you made your back arches off the bed and your eyes shut in pleasure.
“As much as i love hearing that title fall from your lips… it’s master to your pet” Your eyes snapped open at his words and you nodded your head in understanding. “Words pet or i wont touch you” He commanded bringing his free hand to grip your chin.
“Yes master” A smile quickly over to his face as you spoke and that was enough for him to dive back in. He spread your lips and started sucking on your clit like a man starved.
You threw your head back on the pillow feeling overwhelmed but in a good way. The sensation was something you’ve never felt before but welcomed it with open arms. The way his tongue lapped the bundle of nerves make you reel in pleasure.
“I-I’m gonna cum master” The words were broken as they fell past your lips.
“Cum for me pet be a good girl and cum” He commanded and before you even registered his words he was shoving two of his thick fingers in you.
“OH FUCK!!” Your hands flew to his raven locks and pulled for dear life at the intrusion. His fingers curled as he thrusted them into you and hit your g-spot deliciously. Before you could speak again your felt your orgasm rip through you and you came all over Loki’s face.
Loki smiled as he came up from between your thighs and he licked his fingers clean. “You taste as delicious as you look pet” His praises made your heart speed up again and another wave of arousal hit you.
“I wanna taste you master” You pleaded sitting up on your knees and moving your gave up and down his body. “Youre wearing too much clothing” You whined as your snaked your hand under his black t shirt.
“So eager to please” He smiled as he flicked his wrist again and he was naked in front of you. You couldn’t help but marvel at the god in front of you. His tanned skin, rippled abs, thick thighs, and not to mention his pretty cock. Never in your life did you ever find a man’s dick attractive but holy fuck his was perfect.
His hands on your cheeks brought you out of your trance. “Go ahead pet make your master feel good” His gruff voice was enough to send you over the edge again. You simply smiled at him and changed positions so he was laying against the pillows.
Once he was situated on the against the pillows you settled in between his thighs but not before kissing all over him first. Finally you got settled and sent him a devious smile. At first you started slow with some gentle kitten licks and kisses all up and down his shaft making sure to pay attention to the thick vein running from base to tip.
“Fuck” You heard him moan when you finally took him into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down and luckily your gag reflex wasn’t a problem. “Just like that baby” He groaned and you hummed at the new nickname falling from his lips which in turn make his cock twitch.
You continued sucking him like a lollipop which caused a series of moans and profanities fall from his lips. Suddenly his hands were in your hair and he pulled your head up.
“As much as i’m loving this is much rather cum in you than your mouth my dear pet” He said softly rubbing his finger over toe bottom lip.
“Please” You begged him sitting back on your knees and then slowly crawled on top of his lap. His hands found home on your hips as he helped you straddle him.
“Gonna make you feel so good” Loki said with determination along with his signature smirk.
“Please master” Your begged again as you lined yourself up with his aching cock. That was all the go ahead he needed and before you knew it he was slamming himself into you.
“Oh gods” You moaned throwing your head back in pleasure. Loki gave you time to adjust to his size before he started thrusting into you.
“So fucking tight” He groaned squeezing your hips harder. Your hands flew to his chest and you held on tight as you rode him. Never in your life had you felt this full and satisfied. And now that you’ve had a taste of what being with him was like you knew you couldn’t be without him again.
“Fuck Loki i’m gonna cum!” The moan that escaped you was nothing short of sinful.
“Cum for me pet” He demanded as his thrusts became harder and rougher. It didn’t take much longer for you and him to cum with loud and pornographic moans. Loki came and filled you with every last drop of his seed till there was nothing left.
“Oh fuck” You said breathlessly as you collapsed onto his chest. “That was fucking amazing”
“Agreed” He said rubbing his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner.
“I dont want this to be a one time thing Loki” You admitted still laying on his chest not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Who said this was a one time thing darling? Who said i wasn’t planning on keeping you here forever?” He said as he brought his fingers up lightly from your chin and look up at him.
“Really?” The question came out more insecure than you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“Really” He brought his hands to your face again ava kissed you passionately. It was that moment you knew he was the one for you.
“I love you Loki” You smiled brightly as you held onto his face.
“I love you too darling” He responded with so much passion and love in his voice something you knew was only for your abs that made it that much better.
Shortly after the both of you fell into a blissful sleep wrapped around each other. Content smiles adorned both your faces as you two slept. Neither of you thought you end up here when you first walked into the library tonight but couldn’t be happier that it did.
~The end~ A/n: I GOT WAY TO CARRIED AWAY BUT OH WELL!! i hope you enjoyed by first loki story ;)
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husbandomail · 6 months ago
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12 days of Christmas: cooking together
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“Here, let me show you.” Ren’s presence is as soft as his voice; were it not for his hand on the small of your back, he might’ve faded away entirely. But his hand— comfortably warm— is on your back, and probably comes with a handprint of flour across our shirt.
Cafe Leblanc is closed for the evening, and while Sojiro had seemed hesitant— Ren had gotten a very firm “no funny business”— the two of you have been left alone with the entire kitchen at your disposal. The scent of coffee is practically baked into the materials of the building itself; long after the machines have been turned off, notes of espresso hang so heavy in the air, you can taste it on your tongue.
“I know how to make cookies,” you grumble. And that’s true on a technical level— you mix everything together and put it in the oven. It can’t be that difficult. That’s why it’s more than a little embarrassing you’ve been fighting with the dough.
Ren just tilts his head so that his dark, fluffy hair frames his face, and he bats his long eyelashes down at you. Words aren’t even necessary— it’s all over his face. “—don’t look at me like that.”
“Let me show you,” he repeats, gently taking the tin cookie cutter out of your hand before you can cause any further damage. You don’t argue; his doe eyes always work, and you both know it. “Flour first,” he says in that same soft tone. “Without that, they won’t hold their shape in the oven.”
He moves like he was born here. Deceptively delicate hands coat the countertop in flour, again, a dusting of white that clings to his hands and his shirt and drifts in the lamplit air. Before you know it he’s reduced the blob of dough into festive shapes— you didn’t even know cookie cutters could handle snowflakes— and got them spread evenly onto baking sheets. 
“Now,” Ren has a knowing look on his face as he hands you one of the baking pans, and when you try to grab it, he doesn’t let go. “Can you get that in the oven without any trouble?”
“Of course!” You stick your tongue out at him, although his worry is definitely justified, after the mess that was your attempts at Valentine’s chocolate months ago. “I know my way around a kitchen just as good as you do.”
Finally Ren lets go of the tray so you can put the first batch of cookies into the oven. In comparison to the winter weather outside, the blast of heat when you open the oven door is nice and comfy. When you turn around, he’s leaning against the counter and staring at you again, his doe-eyes fond in a way you’re not sure you’ve seen.
It’s a bit embarrassing.
“Do I have something on my face?” You vaguely try to change the subject, distract him from whatever positive thoughts he’s thinking in your direction.
“A lot of things, actually,” he hums. He reaches out and swipes a dollop of dough off your face, leaving you wondering how long it’d been there, before popping it in his mouth for a taste. “—sweet.”
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saccharinosis · 1 year ago
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IN OUR AMBER HOUSE (M!Yandere OC x GN!reader) - 1.9k words
(Warnings: manipulation?? General yandere things yeah under cut)
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WHERE WAS HE? Anxious eyes peeked through the veil of blinders, panning across sun-soaked suburbia. Previously grey skies diffused with splashes of tangerine and rosy inks glowed above asphalt roads, hugged by pavement and dirty gold lawns which preceded duplicate houses—houses that harboured spouses who just arrived home to their loved ones. Yours was not one of them.
You glanced back at the clock; ‘5:32pm’, it read. It only takes him twenty minutes to get home—what's taking him so long? He was always the punctual type.
Anxiety twisted your thoughts into a web of indecipherable ramblings: what if he got into an accident at work? Or a car crash coming home? What if he decided to abandon you just like everyone else? What were you to do then? You couldn’t survive on your own. The train ticket hidden beneath the laundry machine weighed heavy on your conscience. Guilt seeped into the open wound of worries, for ever thinking anything sinful of his character. He was your lifeline.
Or maybe…
Maybe you should step outside—
Tires crackled. False storm clouds climbed out an exhaust pipe’s silver chimney, revving thunder. Your wide eyes glued themselves to the window. The aegean blue vintage Camaro rolled into view. He’s home.
You sprinted from the window to the entrance. Through the door you could hear the thumping of his powderhorn boots, soon coming to a halt. The jingling of metal alerted you to back away from the entrance. When the door creaked open, you jumped, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the faux fur of his hood. A deep inhale; the faint scent of ashwood, pumpkin spice and vanilla was familiar to you. You felt the vibrations of chuckles from within his chest, arms slithering around your waist.
“Sorry I’m late, honey. I forgot something at work,” he said softly.
His words carried a certain lilt, weightless and airy, leaving you full of sweet nothings and starved of candour. Did he really? You decided not to reply, tightening your grip as if he’d vanish into thin air.
“Aw,” he removed one of his arms, tilting your chin up with a finger, “were you worried about me?” Gold were his eyes, flecked with scarlet. Amber.
“... yeah,”
He brushed aside your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead. He moved to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, the side of your jaw—you attempted to pull away from the onslaught of kisses, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place.
“Lovel—”
Your protests were subdued when his lip met yours. The hand on your waist pulled your bodies flush against each other, while the other cradled the back of your head, fingers entangled in locks of hair. A tantalising heat roiled in your chest as you reciprocated with overwhelming fervour. When you were just about running out of air, he let you pull back, winded.
“You were saying earlier?” Lovel asked, his own breathing slightly heavier.
“Uh—I should go finish cooking,” you pressed your hands against his chest.
“Let me help you then.”
As you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find the words to refuse. Your hands ghosted over the base of his neck, feeling sheepish as he stared, before helping him unzip his olive green coat. It slid off with the ease of a snake shedding its skin, and you hung it upon the coat rack while he kicked off his boots. In just a moment his hand intertwined in yours, leading you to the kitchen which held your work-in-progress.
Muted sunlight drifted through the windows, leaving the corners and crevices of the room vignetted. Upon the porcelain enamel countertops rested a cutting board alongside a myriad of vegetables. Nearby, a stream of steam billowed from the vents of the rice cooker whose red light flickered, already prepared. Thawed meat sat in a large pan on the burner.
“I’ll handle the meat. Would you cut the rest of the vegetables for me?”
You nodded. He patted your head, moving to the stove. As you returned to work, you couldn’t help but take glances at your fiance from the corner of your eye. He looked to be in his element, the sleeves of his black turtleneck pulled to his elbows as he shifted the pan around. A mellow tune, so relaxed yet precise, rose and fell from his throat like a threaded needle weaving through silk. You turned back to the cutting board, knife hovering above a stalk of scallions.
You were grateful, truly grateful, that in spite of all your other friends, he was the only one who stayed by your side. That when university and life’s unfortunate happenings reared their ugly heads, he was always there to listen and lend you a shoulder. He was the only one who cared about you. He was the only one who loved you.
And it was suffocating.
The same day reiterated itself. You wake up. You get dressed. You wish Lovel a good day at work. You do insignificant tasks. You wait for him. You greet him when he gets home—actually, that’s the only time when you felt like life had any meaning. Although there’s twenty-four hours in a day, your life was sequestered to the golden hour when he was home, when the etiolated sun rolled gold fog over the neighbourhood (and sometimes, what felt like in your head). You loved him. Yet something about the way he loved you left you feeling hazy; the perpetual golden hour, the stagnant sunlight like a flickering bulb in a dusty attic, it was all-consuming.
“What’re you thinking about?” he whispered, his breath fanning your ear.
A chill rushed through you. His hands rested on the counter on either side of you, your back pressed against his chest.
“It’s nothing.”
You felt the weight of his gaze sear into your skin. Your eyes fixated on the cutting board in front of you; the knife slipping from your trembling grasp. Huh. You didn't realise you were shaking. He hummed, fingers thrumming over the countertop.
“You wouldn’t hide anything from me, right?”
You shook your head.
“Use your words.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Good.”
He pressed his lips against your temple. Yet the air remained thick with tension, cloying your visage.
“I’m feeling a bit nauseous actually,” you said, removing one of his arms around you. “I’m going to the washroom.”
You left without another word, his stare glued to your back until the hallway turned around the corner. Almost instantly, the heavy atmosphere receded. You shook off the rest of the nerves as you walked. The hall itself stretched on, lined doorway after doorway which glowed dimly under marigold lights. One of such arcs emitted a light brighter than the rest.
You paused. To the right, the sun chiselled a passage between flowing curtains, its lustrous path resting at your feet. Its glimmer enveloped you in a trance, and thus you followed it: a moth to a flame, step by step. With a slight tug at the fabric, you unveiled a sky rippling of tuscan and silver, goldleaf clouds dappled across its expanse—your backyard, still like a painting. The only thing that stood between you and the outside was a glass door. You twisted your head back to the hallway. No one was there. It’ll be okay, you thought. You’ll just take a quick look.
Your hands gripped the edge of the panel, pulling it open merely a smidge. Crisp autumn wind caressed your face, and compared to the stale air inside, you’ve begun to realise liberty’s absence. You dragged the door the rest of the way, invigorated with newfound confidence. Tucked by the entrance was a pair of grey slippers a few sizes bigger than yours, beckoning you to wear them. Your heart pounded. It took but a second to slip them on. It took a few more for you to leap over the border and meet dirt. The grass reached its bowed arms over the exposed skin of your feet, swaying alongside your movements. You couldn't hold back the laugh bubbling up your throat as you hopped further down the yard.
Something twinkled in the sandy sky. You looked up. The sky’s gift landed atop your nose—a snowflake. For a moment you could examine its byzantine structure: geometric symmetry, hexagonal lattices forming crystalline branches. Mother nature’s perfect selenite flora, and just as fragile. Opaque white thawed into a glassy dome, almost like a snowglobe.
“What are you doing out there?”
Lovel’s voice piqued your ears. You tensed. Twisting around, his golden gaze flared in the sunset. He was omnipresent.
He murmured softly, similar to coaxing a hare, “Come back in, you’ll get cold.”
You hesitated.
“(Y/N). Come back.” Now.
That tender smile returned to his face as you ambled up the porch. An arm reached around your shoulder, as if he thought you might get lost. Together, you walked back inside. Back home. Another iteration.
When you turned, attempting to get one last glance at the backyard, he had already pulled the curtains close. Gold. Yet sunrays seeped through the sheer polyester, giving it a luminous, almost gelatinous quality. Like resin beginning to set. He turned to face you.
“If you wanted to go outside, you could’ve asked me.”
‘What does it matter if the answer is no?’ you thought, the sour words held back by the cage of your lips, but not through your eyes. He read your expression.
“Winter’s soon. We both know you’re more susceptible to cold. Do you remember last year?”
“... Yeah.”
“And what kind of future husband would I be to let my love get sick like that again?”
Whatever irritation you harboured melted off from the heat creeping up your face; you looked away. It seemed he always knew what to say.
“We can continue this later. I finished dinner.”
The guilt-ridden wound throbbed dully. You really couldn’t do anything without him. From frustration, to endearment, to shame he orchestrated your emotions in a contorted cacophony until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other started. The world around you blurred as your mind focused on the saline aftertaste of discomfort on your tongue. It is in your best interest to stay. Even so, you think that maybe there’s a world waiting for you outside this house. You want to bask in the extraordinary life of an average person: getting a job, buying a car, being independent.
Your eyes drift down to your feet. Gold wraps around the edge of your toes, ever so languidly creeping up the rest of your figure. Maybe it's too late. Maybe the amber had already crystallised, encasing your body to the confines of your own home.
But when you thought back to that snowflake, so bright and delicate, you couldn’t help but hope. That with the winter and the death of all things so would this old life find its conclusion; and in the dawn of liquescence you’d break through the icy surface, riding the springtide.
“.../N)?”
Twin suns melted the mirage of your mind. Lovel smiled at his seizure of your attention. He threaded his fingers through the contours of your hands, the sensation of skin-against-skin leaving fervid solar flares in its trail. Every inch of you drowned and burned in sunlight.
Yes, you thought. You couldn’t wait for an eclipse.
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thesharkwhalewhoohooooo · 11 months ago
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Red x fem! Oc
In which the daughter of the Mad Hatter and the daughter of the Queen of Hearts have been twisted friends for a while.
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Red ran through the alleyway, all the way up to the castle walls, until she inevitably got trapped there.
Before the guards could fully close in on her, she got pulled up from a pair of arms around her waist.
"Hey princess Rose." Mary smiled at the princess, who smirked back at her as she wrapped an arm around her neck to stabilise herself a bit more.
"My dad's not gonna be happy with you." She warned as they approached the hatter's tower, Red merely rolling her eyes.
"Also, he has a surprise for you! How exhilarating is that!" Mary hoisted her up a bit more, so she wouldn't slip, before Red could respond.
"You what's the surprise?" Mary shrugged, smiling down at her.
"I don't spoil surprises! You'll love it!" She grinned as they finally arrived, she swung the rope she was holding onto a bit, and she let go so they fell through an opened window.
Mary landed with a smooth roll, standing up in the same motion, whilst Red rolled and stuck to the ground, leaning against her friend's legs.
"Hi dad."
"Hey Maddox." The hatter sighed at the princess and his daughter, both looking at him, one with a smile, the other with a mischievous smirk.
"You really ought to stop one day, she'll find out and not be happy! I cannot keep sending my daughter towards an impending doom!" Red rolled her eyes, getting hoisted up by Mary and let herself fall back onto a chair.
"I finished it..." hatter finally spoke up once his daughter had taken off her coat.
"Really?"
"Yes, the time machine." Red shot up and went towards him, trying to snatch it out of his grasp.
He pursed his lips and slipped it into his coat, shaking his head.
"No, going back in time can be harmful to those who remain still, I cannot give it to you until you've grown in time." Red frowned, looking over at Mary, who even though she was devoted to her, wouldn't betray her own father.
"Okay. Well, doesn't matter anyway, because I can't even get out of this rabbit hole."
-
"Her royal majesty, my queen, it appears that there is a letter, from Auradon." Mary spoke up from behind Red, her father rushing towards them with it.
"Majesty!" The queen of hearts waved her hand and the letter started, it kept everyone captivated, the first sight of anything Auradonian in almost two decades, what a momentous occasion.
"I won't go if Mary can't." Red stood her ground, the queen sending Mary a warning glare.
"Princess Red, I must remain here, I have duties in court-."
"As my personal maid, so yeah, you're coming with."
"- and i'd much prefer simply seeing you off, as the invite only is for you, and your mother seems to be delighted by this new opportunity." Red rolled her eyes, looking at her mother with a dead panned stare.
"She's coming with me or I'll just escape that wretched institution."  The queen sighed, waving everyone off.
"Either you go, or she gets her head chopped off."
"But what am I supposed to do without my personal maid, you don't suppose I'll have to get a new one!"
"You don't need a maid there."
"I do! How dare you try revoke my right as a princess."
-
Red won, and Mary got to go with her to Auradon prep, an institution for the good and the even better.
"Mary!" Red whisper yelled as soon as her mother stood up on the stage, Mary quickly moving to stand behind Red.
"The watch." Mary muttered as she passed her princess, who quickly grabbed it and held onto Mary's hand.
"Let's go." Red was about to start it when Cinderella's daughter tried to pull a sword on the queen, and Red rushed in to try and stop her from getting executed, Mary staying behind in an attempt not to get executed too.
When they disappeared, she felt relieved, but deep inside also saddened.
"Where did she go." The queen turned to Mary, who was not sure herself.
"I would not know my queen, I shall search the highest of lows and the lowest of heights in my pursuit of my princess." She kneeled down as she spoke, keeping her head low and eyes trained onto the ground as she waited for the Queen's response.
"Mh. Don't fret it, she'll return soon." She didn't dismiss Mary, of course she didn't, and of course Mary just had to have kneeled into a small shard of stone, her knee starting to bleed from the constant pressure and the shard.
"Cinderella's execution shall be now!"
-
Prince Charming glanced at the girl kneeling a bit behind the queen, and the small puddle of blood around her knee, as he was being restrained.
"Where is my wife! Where is Ella!" The queen laughed at him, gesturing at Mary, who quickly stood up, her knee wobbling a bit as she stood up straight and went to grab the cushion with the glass heels.
"My queen." She kneeled next to her, her bloody and wounded knee on the ground, and held up the red pillow.
"Here.... Is my Ella." Mary looked up slightly with an arched eyebrow.
"Your Ella?! She chose me! Over you and your monsterly-." The queen threw the heels at his face, they broke, and cut his face open.
He silently stared at the broken glass, limp in the soldier's hold.
"It appears that she chose you until the very end."
-
"I cannot believe that I had to leave Mary because of you!" Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"What? Couldn't leave your maid behind?" Red took a step closer to her, eyes narrowed.
"Don't disrespect her like that, at least I know I can trust her."
"Yeah cause she fears you, not the same." Red nearly launched at her and killed her right there, but Chloe tried to get the watch.
"You don't get to go back if you disrespect her."
"What?! What did she do that you're so freakishly-!" Red cut Chloe off, smirking proudly as she answered.
"She swore her full devotion to me, so, technically, she's mine, which means she'll do anything I say." Chloe took a step back, fearing she'll get stabbed by the gloating princess.
"I really don't care about how low that poor girl stepped, but honestly, isn't that a bit like an exhibitionist?" Red's hair seemed to flair up in anger, baring her teeth as she launched at the girl, pulling at her hair.
"Do not call my girl a whore! You fucking bitch!" Chloe was more shocked by her language than anything else.
"Let! Go! Of! Me!" She tried getting her off, eventually resorting to kicking her off.
She stood with her hands on her knees trying to get her breath back, Red standing perfectly straight and gesturing for her to get up and move along.
"C'mon, let's go inside."
-
"Mom!" Chloe nearly cried out as they saw the heels break into Charming's face, Red rolled her eyes, instead focusing on Mary, who was still kneeling in front of her mother.
There was a small puddle of blood where she previously stood, and there were glimpses of blood where she had now rested her knee.
She clenched her fist, but quickly snapped the looking glass closed when Bridget turned around.
"I don't have one like that... but if it's a banned book, it's in Merlin's office, but that's enchanted...." She pouted, a bit sad she couldn't get what the girls wanted for them.
"I have a date with Athene, so I really have to start getting ready, I hope you'll find it though!" Red nodded slowly, pulling Chloe along as she exited the room.
They bumped into Athene along the way, who was going up to Bridget's room.
"Athene." The girl hummed and looked up from Fred, her mouse familiar, to Red.
"We kept Bridget up a bit, she just started getting ready." Athene let out a small Oh, then smiled.
"That's perfectly fine, I'll go back to Olivia then, she'll probably like having that saddle off a bit longer." Red raised an eyebrow, abandoning Chloe's arm and stopping Athene from leaving.
"Olivia?"
"Oh, she's one of my familiars, she's a water dragon, and such a sweetheart, I was planning on introducing her to Bridget and going to the dragon stalls with her, because she's my nicest dragon, the other can get a bit... snappy, yeah, that's the word." She tilted her head when Red didn't answer, "would you like to meet her? She's beautiful, her scales are a bit darker than Chloe's hair."
Red smirked, quickly nodding before grabbing Chloe's arm again and once again dragging her along after Athene.
The young witch wasn't kidding when she said the dragon was sweet, because she quite literally had no idea what danger even was.
"I told you, she's way too kind, it takes more effort to keep her safe from people than to keep people safe from her." Chloe had finally snapped out of her stupor and was staring in amazement at how the dragon seemed to trap Red with her tail, keeping her there until she could grab her with her front legs-?-.
Chloe snorted out a giggle, Red grumbling about getting saliva on her jacket was way too funny.
"Hey! Poet! Bridget's ready for you!" Ella yelled out of a window somewhere, and Athene nearly dashed away.
"She's sweet... do you think they'll last longer than this?" Chloe turned to Red to ask, who had been set down.
"Mh. They'll last yeah, but she'll die when their daughter is like 10." The shock on the charming princess' face was way too much to comprehend.
"Yeah, my mom really lost it after that."
-
"Red! Princess!" Mary rushed up to her when she finally got back to the present, not wearing her usual dark green, but instead a sage green and off white colour combo.
"Hey... what's with the-?" She trialed off when her mom stood up, turning around, with a whole other dress, and starting to make... bubble hearts?
"Where were you, you are so late Rose." Chloe snorted at the nickname.
"Well i'm here now."
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deceptive-daydreams · 2 years ago
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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |
Smoke Signals
Chapter Five - Cold Eggs
W/C: 6K
Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader
Warnings: Anxiety attack, mentions of drinking
Some early morning honesty on the rocks. Eddie is fucked. In every sense other than literal.
A/N: I'm getting giddy over these two please tell me yall feel the same
Masterlist
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The Munson bachelor pad wasn’t as boyish and messy as you initially thought.  You were sober enough to make that observation.  It was cozy, much like your own home and was around the same size.  The kitchen was probably the messiest part of it however you didn’t get a peek at the bedroom which you assumed could also be very disheveled.  There were cereal boxes left open on the counter, Cocoa Pebbles being the one that caught your eye along with a neglected box of Rice Krispies that laid on its side.   
A few too many pots and pans cluttered the stove top and some empty cans of soup and Spaghettios were left to collect dust near the sink.  His refrigerator held a collection of magnets, some being letters from the alphabet, although quite a few were missing, and others were ads from a pizza place and a few fruits and vegetables with cartoony faces.  Among the mess on the counters, you also noted a few empty liters of soda and some crushed beer cans.  Budweiser to be specific.
Other than that, the living room you’d been sitting in was tidy.  There was a clearly used checkered blanket bunched up on the corner of the couch you’d been occupying for the past several minutes and a few car catalogs littering the coffee table along with a copy of Lord of the Rings, bookmarked with a coupon for ground beef clipped from the local ads.  Next to that, an ash tray nearly overflowed.  
His wallpaper wasn’t as ugly as yours, which you envied.  It was maroon with even darker stripes alternating, creating a dark but homey atmosphere.  The wall sconces on the other hand, we’re tacky.  They looked more medieval than anything, almost like torches.  The light wood floors contrasted with the walls and at your feet was a frayed rug that looked like it had seen better days.  Not dirty, just tattered.
In the corner sat an acoustic guitar painted with the words ‘this machine slays dragons’ and next to it was an electric guitar, red with cracks of black.  You’d never seen one like it before and it seemed to be well loved from what you’d heard every day, the endless guitar solos bleeding into your eardrums daily.  At least he was getting his money's worth out of it.
You continued eyeing your surroundings, taking in the habitat that was Eddie Munson’s home when your gaze lands on a particular object that piqued your interest.  It sat atop a shelf near the door, a lonely Garfield mug.
Before you could further examine the mug or even think of reasons as to why it was displayed, if it was even displayed, or perhaps it was abandoned in a hurry out the door, Eddie emerges from the bathroom just off the living room.  His curls are now wet ringlets toward the bottom, and instead of wearing your puke, he wears a red sweatshirt that reads ‘Indianapolis, Indiana’ on the front along with some baggy black sweats.  Despite his comfy clothes, his face is still decorated with that grouchy frown you’d grown used to.  Did this man ever relax his face?  His eyebrows were still pinched together either in thought or in irritation.
“I-um, I’ll wash the shirt and um the–the boots.”  You stutter, rapidly standing from your perch at the edge of his couch.
Though still a little tipsy, more coherent thoughts flooded your mind.  Guilt plagued you as you thought about the blanket of barf that coated his shirt and boots about a half hour earlier, abandoned on the front porch.  You were smart enough to avert your gaze when he lifted his shirt off of his torso just to let it wrinkle up on the wood planks to be dealt with later.  It wasn’t your fault that you’d caught a glimpse of the tattoos that adorned his body, some kind of dragon if you remember correctly, wound from his waist up to his ribs.  The others you didn’t have long enough to distinguish their imagery, though there were several along with what appeared to be some scarring of some kind.  You couldn’t be sure, the darkness from the night not allowing you a clear picture along with your hazy mental state.
“Don’t worry about it.”  He dismisses while you bashfully sit back down on the edge of the couch.
It was hard to grasp whether he was pissed at you or just at life in general.  You would take full responsibility for the vomit but everything before that was on him.  Yelling at you over a pile of broken plates seemed far more degrading based on his tone, the way he reprimanded you and painted you as this stupid girl, unable to stand your ground.  Maybe it was better that he fired you, you wouldn’t be subject to his obnoxious mood swings where he seemed to take everything out on you when shit hit the fan.  
You continued watching Eddie move about his surroundings, taking in how he interacted with his day to day environment.  What did he look like fully relaxed?  Lounging around, playing his guitar without a care in the world.  It was difficult to picture; the image of a moody man with a tensed facial expression the only one you could seem to conjure up every time rather than the vision of him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, enjoying coffee out of that stupid Garfield mug.  You wonder if takes his coffee with cream and sugar.  Maybe just cream?  Or just sugar?  Maybe he drinks it black, that would be the most sensible option if you were going by his grouchy nature.
“Gonna find my keys, then we’ll go back to the bar to get yours.”  Eddie decides, shuffling through some items on the kitchen counter.  
The irony.
Agreeing with a hum, you allow yourself to lean further into the couch while trailing your finger over the faded plaid pattern, lines of beige crossing over white that temporarily held your focus.  The clinking of empty beer cans against the linoleum counter can be heard, and then footsteps into the bedroom just off the living room to your left.  Two idiots with misplaced keys under the same roof.
It feels as if the couch begins to mold around you, welcoming you into its springy cushions that otherwise wouldn’t be very comfortable but considering the night you had and the state you were in, you felt like you were on a cloud.  Your thoughts drift back to curious visions of Eddie.  What did his hair look like first thing in the morning?  Was it as wild as you imagined?  Curls sticking up every which way, frizzy and matted?  Or was it somehow still perfectly messy?  Boyishly messy.  
Did he take those chunky rings off every night, leaving them on his nightstand until the morning?  How many more tattoos did he have?  What movies did he watch?  What did he do for fun?  You suppose plucking at his guitars was a main contender with the way it would constantly invade your ears.  Obviously he read, your eyes catching that copy of Lord of the Rings on the coffee table again.  Maybe he worked on cars too, based on those car part catalogs.  
The image of him working under the hood of a car, all sweaty in some kind of tank top occupied your brain, his usually tense face hard at work with grease smeared along his cheek.  And his hands.  His hands would be coated in oil and he’d pull a rag out from his back pocket to wipe them off.  Then he’d smile and reveal those deep dimples framing his face so perfectly.  And then you would–
“Uh, Bambi?”
Eddie’s voice doesn’t do much other than cause you to stir in your sleep, snuggling a pillow while curling into yourself.  You were nearly drooling, completely content.  He couldn’t help but stare a little longer than necessary before realizing what a creep he was being.  Was he supposed to wake you?  If he was, he felt wrong doing so with how peaceful you looked.  He rolled his eyes but truthfully, he didn’t mind having a guest for the night.  
Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep for once.
Tossing around as the springs beneath you squeak, your mouth feels like it had previously been filled with sand.  Not an ounce of saliva coated your tongue, you were severely dehydrated.  You flung the knitted blanket that had rested on top of you off–when did that get there?  You don’t remember grabbing a blanket before drifting off into a deep slumber.  
This wasn’t even your house.
Collecting your thoughts, you recall that you had been sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch before apparently falling asleep.  It was still dark outside, signifying that it had to be early in the morning which meant you’d only slept for maybe two or so hours.  A lamp set atop a beat up side table in the corner was the only thing illuminating the room now.  Sitting up and stretching, your bones ached from the way they were piled on top of each other in the position you had been sleeping in.  Your right arm had pins and needles running up and down it from being cut off from circulation for so long.  
The groan that threatened to escape you was held in your throat as you scooted forward, only to find a full glass of water right there on the coffee table.  This was beyond embarrassing, this was humiliating.  If you could scurry out the door and across the yard back to your place you would, but you were in this predicament due to your own negligence.  
With no other options available to you, you gulp down the lukewarm water, just grateful that your tongue was no longer dryer than the Sahara desert.  But it still wasn’t enough.  Your thirst seemed unquenchable, at this rate you’d need approximately five more glasses.  So you stood yourself up, legs shaky and stomach a tiny bit queasy, and wobbled over to the kitchen.  You’d have to pace yourself to avoid throwing up a bunch of water since your stomach was so sensitive right now.  Food was out of the question but water was a necessity.  
Twisting the sink handle with a small screech of the metal, you fill the glass with a shaky and weak arm before sipping away.  
Slowly.  You remind yourself.
It must have taken around eight minutes to finish that second glass of water, coaching yourself through it the entire time.  You grew tired of drinking it but persisted anyway.  As you reach to fill a third glass, you’re startled by a figure in the doorway to Eddie’s room, unable to make out any features in the dim lighting.  With a yelp, you manage to drop the glass in the sink, it clanking around noisily but thankfully, not breaking.  
“Shit, why are you awake?”  Eddie asks, hands raised in surrender as he emerges from the shadows.
“Why are you awake?”  You counter.
He raises a brow, clearly wide awake.  He didn’t even have that gravelly, sleepy voice.  Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep at all.  There was no evidence that his hair was any frizzier than before and his face didn’t have that puffiness to it when you wake up.  It’s also possible that he just looked perfect when he woke up but if you’re being honest, no one really woke up perfect.  
“I, uh, I was reading.”  He admits, scratching the back of his head.
“Oh.”
An awkward silence trickles in, causing you to cross your arms as a means to close in on yourself, steadily backing up until you hit the counter behind you.  Eddie maintains eye contact with you as he retrieves his own cup from one of the cabinets, filling it up and chugging it down with ease.  You suddenly feel so out of place, like you were supposed to leave but there was nowhere else to go.  
“I, um, I’m sorry for…for the puke.  A-and for falling asleep.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”  You tell him honestly.
He only nods.  
“I can go…sit on my porch until you go into the bar.  And I’ll get my keys and be out of your hair.”  
A few drops of water roll down his chin as he continues drinking, the back of his hand coming up to swipe the liquid away.  He appears to be lost in thought, eyes concentrated on the counter in front of him where a few rogue Rice Krispies live.  You let your legs carry you a few feet away, your goal being the front door until he speaks up again.
“I’m not gonna be responsible if you get eaten out there.”  He grumbles.  
“Eaten?”
Eddie looks you up and down as if to say ‘are you serious?’.  To be completely honest, you hadn’t taken into account the wildlife that thrived throughout the area before you moved in.  Now you were looking more and more dumb by the minute.
“Bears?”  He offers an anxious head tilt.  “We have fucking bears here, Bambi.  You can’t just wander around in the middle of the night.”
“I wouldn’t be wandering.”  Why were you trying to make an argument?  Out of all the things you could fight him on, why were you choosing whether or not you’d get eaten by a bear?  “I would be sitting on my porch.”
You felt like the dumbest woman on the planet and you knew you should’ve stopped talking but the words just…came out.
“Bears can reach your fucking porch, you know that, right?”  
His large eyes bored into you in disbelief, his mouth slightly hung open as he awaited your answer.
“Y-yeah.”  You gulp.
“God.”  He scoffs, turning away from you, perplexed before muttering something under his breath that you happened to also catch.  “Christ, they shoulda turned you away.”
“Who?”  You pipe up, feeling a bit daring.
For a moment, he turns to stare at you blankly.  It’s almost as if you’re the only two people awake and if either of you happened to raise your voice in the slightest, it would awaken the town.
“The assholes that sold you that house.”  He just about whines, his voice an octave higher, frustration obvious in his tone.
The refrigerator light briefly appears over the blue and green tiled floor as Eddie opens it, reaching for something before turning around toward the stove and kicking the door shut.  
“What–what do you mean?  Turn me away?  What’s that supposed to mean?”  You ask in offense.
“I mean…”  He cracks an egg into a pan, followed by another.  “They shouldn’t have sold it to someone so clueless.”  Another egg.  
The shells are discarded in the sink, further cracking into smaller pieces at the impact he’d thrown them.  
“What?  Were they just supposed to reject me until someone more ‘qualified’ came along?”  You try to catch his gaze, ducking your head as he reaches for the salt and pepper.  “And–are you seriously making eggs right now?”  
You earn a scowl from him as his pan begins to sizzle, his hand quick to grab a spatula from one of the pots on the stove to flip the eggs.  This had to have been some weird dream or manifestation.  And there they were again, those three numbers falling from his lips in a whisper as his eyes shut temporarily while his eggs simmered.
“I was already qualified before you came along!”  He raises his voice, not quite to a yell but not very quiet either.
Silence. 
Your eyes must have bulged out of your head, Eddie’s features softening by the second.  Regret settled in his eyes, your face the vision of pure horror and all because of him.  
He got impatient.
His therapist would be disappointed in him.  And so would Wayne.
“I-I just…I was going to, um…”  He starts calmly.  “I was gonna buy it.  And, and I was—”  His breathing is now shallow, his eyes wet and pleading.  “It–it was–I don’t–”
“Eddie.”  You whisper, trying to break through whatever trance he was in.
He seemed stuck in his own head, eyes darting back and forth while he struggled to find words.  The eggs were on the verge of burning which prompted you to reach over him and turn the stove off.  The spatula he previously held clung against the tile.  
“I-I–um, I was–”  
It’s as if he isn’t even in the room, totally removed as the same few syllables fell from his tongue.
“I’m–I-I–”
“Eddie, it’s okay.”  You attempt to soothe him.  “Do you wanna sit down?”  You ask, trying to catch his eyes but failing as he squeezes them shut.
Again with the counting.
One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.
All under his shaky breath.
“I-I’m fine.  ‘M fine.”  His voice cracks, eyes opening timidly.
When you go to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinches, a gasp leaving his lungs.  Forcing yourself a few steps backward in order to provide him the space he needs, you recognize a hint of fear within him.  It’s not of you, it’s something else yanking at his thoughts.  
“Sit down, let’s sit down, okay?”  You instruct, gradually lower yourself, waiting for him to follow your actions.
Nodding, he slowly slides his back down the side of the counter, falling into a position where his knees were to his chest, hands resting against the floor.  You join him, still keeping your distance but wanting him to know that despite the previous tension, you were being supportive through his episode.  Whatever it may be.
“Breathe.”  You tell him, just as he had done with you back at the bar.  “In…and out.”  You encourage him.
He follows, his breathing still labored but improving.  Continuing for a minute or so, his shoulders finally loosen up, his face relaxing.  You let him guide the situation from here, if he wanted to talk or remain mute.  Either was okay.
Moments pass, the hard kitchen floor causing you discomfort that you willingly take, not daring to shift around too much as to keep the tranquility finally falling over the two of you.  Instead, you take interest in the wood grain of the cabinets, eyes wandering around each curve like a maze, sometimes identifying shapes along the way.  A dog’s face, a ghost, and occasionally the haunting silhouette of a human.  
Sneaking a glance at Eddie, you find that his eyes are shut as he rests his head against the cabinet behind him, his hands fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie, tying little knots and then undoing them just to repeat the process.  Your watch indicates that it’s 4:03 AM.  You would usually be sleeping however you can’t really offer yourself much sympathy when it seems this is the norm for Eddie.  He always had tired eyes though you’d never put much thought into it until now.  He must not be sleeping.  Which could also be a contribution to his moodiness.  
“I’m gonna lose the bar.”  Eddie speaks up from beside you, eyes still shut as he continues to fidget.  
“Hm?”  You turn your full attention to him.
There’s a pause, a moment of thinking.  You can tell as he opens his eyes and side-eyes you, not with malice but more so to collect his thoughts.  Lips pinched in between his teeth roughly, you could almost wince at the way blood surfaces from the poor abused skin.  Not too obvious, but obvious enough as you await clarification, the tiniest bit of crimson seeping out from behind his teeth only to be left to dry out on his perfectly shaped lips.  Then he breaks the silence with a heavy exhale.
“I, uh, I’m pretty close to losing it.  Can barely pay the bills on the damn place.  Been going downhill for a few months now.”  He elaborates, spinning a ring around his finger repeatedly .  “I was gonna use the rest of my savings that my grandpa left me to buy that house.  Rent it out.  I talked to a friend who’s really good with all that financial shit and he said I could get a steady income and most likely keep the bar running and profiting again.”
“Oh.”  You whisper, a huge sensation of guilt overtaking you.
“Not your fault.”  He sighs.  “Guess I’ve been kinda taking it out on you.”
Now he avoids your gaze, far more interested in the cracked tile beneath him.  A curse can be made out from just under his breath while he buries his head in his hands, running them up and down his face, almost as if to relieve some of his stress but having no such luck.  His admission catches you off guard, not at all suspecting that this morning would turn into honesty hour.
“No.”  You reply quickly.  “I mean…yes.  But I-I didn’t know.  If I knew–”
“Don’t give yourself a stroke, Bambi.”  He cuts you off, turning to look at you.  “I’m not proud of how dick-ish I’ve been.  It’s nothing personal though.”  Eddie confesses, seemingly annoyed with himself.
Sincerity floods his eyes, a cry for help.  But how were you supposed to help him?  Before you can muster up some kind of response to his almost-apology, he continues.
“I-uh, I just can’t lose this bar.  I inherited it from my grandpa and he had been running it for…years.”  Behind his persistence, there’s hints of defeat.  A bitterness that you’d come to recognize in the last few weeks.  “And, uh, I didn’t know ‘im for very long but, I kinda feel like it’s my responsibility.”
“Didn’t know him for very long?”  You asked before even calculating the consequences.  You had no right to pry into his personal life.
His hands begin to move up and down his shins, a self-soothing gesture from what you can tell.  Eddie was very fidgety, and you’d only just started noticing.  
“Yeah.”  He whispers.  “I moved here like four years ago.  Some bad shit happened back home and I–”  There’s a moment of hesitation, a sudden panic lurking behind his gaze.  “I can’t go back.”
You want so badly to ask him where ‘home’ used to be but decide against it.  He had already willingly offered you more information than you would have originally been brave enough to ask for.
“Anyway, I never really knew my grandpa until I came here to live with him.  He died last year.  I’ve been trying to keep things afloat since then.”  He explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with a shaky hand.
“I’m so sorry.  I-I didn’t know.”
Genuine sympathy drips from your voice, the kind that felt like hot honey running down a sore throat during flu season.  During the moment it feels…good.  Comforting.  In the way that only his mother ever was in the brief time they had together.  And then the sting returns.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”  The walls are rapidly raised once again and god knows when you would get to peek through the cracks again.  “We should, uh, we should get to the bar so you can get your keys.  And your car.”  He suggests, pulling himself up from the floor with a groan.
“Wait–what about your eggs?”  You mention, gripping the edge of the counter for leverage as you stand.
The eggs were long forgotten about, now all sad and cold in the pan.  Unappetizing.  One of the yolks had somehow broken among the commotion of Eddie’s panic and left a disgusting coating around the gaps, that eggy-wet-dog smell nauseating you.  They were trash in all honesty but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, quickly lifting the pan and grabbing a fork to shovel them into his mouth.
You can’t fight the urge to stare, cold eggs and runny yolks being tossed into his mouth without a second thought.  
“What?”  He glances at you in irritation.
“You could’ve at least heated them up.”  You complain, nose crinkled in revolt.
He rolls his eyes but his annoyance quickly melts away, a fraction of a playful smirk pulling at his lips, eyes gleaming with something captivating.
The scent of tobacco and motor oil invades your nose, the smells of Eddie’s truck, much different than the little pine tree air freshener in the car he’d driven you in last night.  The engine rumbles down the road, startling the birds as he drives by.  Some kind of guitar riff blares through the radio, his ringed fingers tapping along against the steering wheel.  Instead of his sweatshirt and sweatpants, he now wears a long sleeve covered with his leather jacket along with some ripped up blue jeans.  As far as you’re concerned, he’s way underdressed for the brisk morning air, only getting colder and colder by the day.  Though, he may run hot and the drop in temperature just doesn’t faze him.  Even so, it’d make you feel better if he at least put on a heavier coat.
Regardless, you can’t seem to control the shivers that rattle your body, your teeth nearly chattering, jaw clenched tightly.  You were mentally scolding drunk-you for forgetting your jacket at the bar and though you were on your way there now, it didn’t do you any good with the way you were practically an ice cube.  It was apparent that the heater of Eddie’s truck wasn’t very efficient as the air coming out was slightly warm but not warm enough to relieve the cold nipping at the exposed skin of your arms.  You could see your breath, only further reminding you of how cold you truly were.
Attention was the last thing you wanted as you subtly moved your hands that rested politely in your lap, up your arms to offer the tiniest bit of skin-on-skin warmth.  Any kind of relief would do.  You only hoped he wouldn’t notice as you began to move your hands back and forth as a means to create some friction, more heat.
Buy a large, fuzzy, soft coat, ASAP.  You note to yourself.
As a distraction, you begin to identify objects within the truck, a solo game of ‘I spy’ if you will.  At your feet, there’s a small crate of cassette tapes.  An impressive collection, mainly metal and rock from what you can see.  Maybe a few folksy ones behind those based on the labels, John Denver being the one that stood out to you.  Then, another car parts catalog on top of the dash.  An empty can of Dr. Pepper in the cup holder.  Or what you assume to be empty.  A definitely empty cigarette carton abandoned in the other cup holder–
“Shit, here.”  Eddie says, reaching behind into the back seat only to magically pull out a denim jacket covered in several patches and pins.  
Evidently, you weren’t playing it as cool as you thought, clearly somehow exposing that you were in fact freezing.  He showed no emotion as he urged the jacket into your reach, eyes still focused on the road.  Your hesitation only had him pushing the denim into your hand, wordlessly cautioning you that he wouldn’t have your modesty or insistence that you were fine.  Clutching the rough fabric in your hand, you pause to stare at him, as if he was going to change his mind any second.  He doesn’t.  Only keeps his eyes forward, brows furrowed in that grumpy manner.
His nose is pink again and you were willing to bet that the tips of his ears matched if they hadn’t been hidden by his wild hair.  Even his cheeks were dusted with the lightest rosy shade.  Fall looked good on him.  You couldn’t even imagine how amazing Summer would look on him.  
Quickly, you undo your seatbelt and shrug the jacket on.  It’s cold from living in the truck all night but warms you up regardless, much cozier than your bare arms out in the open.  And it smells like Eddie, a smell you can’t quite pinpoint to one specific thing.  A little bit like cigarettes, maybe a hint of cologne, spicy but not overpowering, and a whiff of rubber.  It almost smelled like a garage.
The sun was just rising on the horizon, the lake coming into view perfectly as if to put on a show.  Hues of orange painted the sky, birds chirping and squawking as they announced the arrival of a new day.  An apricot dream accompanied by peachy tones.  
The Bourbon was a shell of itself at 5:00 AM.  The morning was bright and early though the bar wasn’t ready to awaken just yet, not until the evening when it thrived.  Until then, it slept peacefully throughout the day, forgotten about until Happy Hour.  Ribbons of light snuck in through the blinds, illuminating the smallest sections of the tables and the floorboards.  
The lights quickly took over that magical early morning feel as Eddie emerged next to you, hands tucked into his pockets while you scanned the room.  And there they were, your keys.  Sat right on top of the bar just as you had remembered.  Your jacket, however, was nowhere to be seen.  
Bummer.
You could’ve sworn you grabbed it from the back lockers before you declared war on Eddie last night.  It wasn’t there either, your locker devoid of your belongings other than a pad of paper and a pen.  
“Have you seen my jacket?”  You ask Eddie, checking the barstools just to be safe.  Nothing.
He had slipped right back into work mode, even at the crack of dawn.  You suppose it's fair though, the information he had shared with you in the quietest hours of the morning resonating in your mind.  Work never stopped for him.  
“Hm?  No, I haven’t seen it.”  He answers, collecting the dirty rags from their designated bin behind the bar to start them up in the wash.
With a soft pout, you trace your steps in your head but can’t seem to recall where you’d left it, your brain failing you.  Maybe it would eventually pop up again, it wasn’t anything special anyway.  It just happened to be one of the heaviest jackets you owned so you would have to remember to stop by one of the shops to search for something equivalent.  Beginning to pull your arm out of the sleeve of the jacket you currently wore, Eddie’s voice stops you.
“Just–keep it ‘til you find yours.”  He says.  Like he knew.  
Were you that obvious?  Girl moves to a random town miles and miles away from home only to be unprepared for the weather conditions in which you would think she would be aware of before committing.
“No, it’s–”
You immediately shut up when you see his expression, something that says ‘for the love of god, just listen’ with glaring eyes and furrowed brows.  Instead of fighting him on it, you offer your gratitude in the form of labor.
“Um, I could stick around…and help.  If you need.”  
Your words float in the air, so delicate it makes him want to vomit; not out of disgust but out of confusion for whatever feeling was swirling around in his head, making him dizzy.  Each word was too sweet, cavity inducing sweetness that he wanted to lick up like icing.  He wasn’t used to being presented with such regard, a candied offer delivered right from your pretty lips to his ears.
“If I still have a job.”  You add.  Sugary syllables pouring from your lips unintentionally.  He may have a heart attack from the amount of sugar.
Eddie collects himself, clears his throat as if to also clear his conscience, not succeeding.  You’re so unlike everything that he knows.  He knows of friendly conversation and boyish banter, endless nights followed by endless days without sleep, he knows of his shitty attitude that comes around more often than not, but he’s never been one to know pure kindness, a certain tenderness radiating from you and seeping into him.  Sure people are kind to him, especially here.  But you’re something else.
“Yeah.  Yeah, ‘course you have a job.”  He affirms.  
The small smile you grace him with makes him want to jump off of a bridge.  Because he is such a cruel being, such a monstrous man awaiting further punishment from the universe for being much less than gentle with such a sweet-tempered, sympathetic human that may even be a gift from god himself if Eddie believed in all that.  
And then Chrissy crossed his mind.  He could not endure another loss.  Chrissy was never even his but he used to mourn what could have been had she lived.  Perhaps she was his first love.  A miserable little middle schooler pining after Hawkin’s Sweetheart all the way up until highschool.  And the moment he got close enough, she was gone, right in front of his poor traumatized eyes.  It was enough for him to swear off love for good.
For some reason he was finding himself wanting to dial back on that promise.  He had only known you for around two weeks and was going back on his own word.  It was freaking him out, making him want to yank his hair out from the roots and collapse onto the floor.  He felt like a teenage boy again, going through puberty and trying to work out all of his jumbled feelings and hormones.
You were staring at him expectantly and it was only then that he realized he had been lost in thought.  A pool of thoughts actually.  Maybe even having a revelation?  
“You can uh…”  He clears his throat, nearly hacking up a lung.  “You haven’t…you haven’t eaten, have you?”  
Internally, he’s scolding himself.  
You’re gonna get hurt before you can even get close.  People are not meant to love you, Munson.  It’s been proven time and time again.  Quit while you’re ahead.
He was too far ahead anyway.  Would he ever learn his lesson?  
People are not meant to love you.
“No.”  You answer sheepishly.  “But I-I’m fine!”  You try to say convincingly.  The reality was that your stomach was swallowing itself, the fact that your dinner had been four tequila shots was not favoring you.  
“Bambi.”  Eddie says sternly.
God she’s gorgeous.
He was fucked.
“Okay…fine.  I haven’t eaten.”  You admit.  “But I can help out a little and then–”
“C’mon.”  He demands, abandoning the bin of dirty rags to head for the kitchen.  
And on the way, he reasons with himself as you follow.
Just be friendly.  There’s nothing wrong with being friendly.  We can be friends.  Stop scaring the shit out of yourself.  She wouldn’t even like you beyond that.  No one would.  
“So, what are you feelin’?”  He asks, knocking his knuckles against the metal worktop.
“Oh, I-I don’t know.  Whatever is easiest.  You know what, I can just go get something from one of the shops, I’m sure that little pancake place is open by now.”
“You don’t trust my cooking?”  He jokes, amusement written all over his face.
To be fair, he hadn’t given you much reason to trust him since you arrived.  But somehow, layers were starting to peel back and you were getting the tiniest glimpses of his true self.  And you’d be stupid not to indulge when he had practically propped the door to his mind right open.  At least for the time being.
“Should I?”  There’s a huge grin on your face, a stupid grin that you try to conceal but can’t.  “I dunno, you kind of have me wondering if you’re gonna spit in my food or something.”  You quip.
“Ouch.”  Eddie feigns hurt by bringing a hand to his chest.  “You think I’m that scummy?”  He asks, raising his brow playfully.
“Oh, the scummiest.”  You banter back.
“You’re breakin’ my heart Bambi.”  He frowns before disappearing into the walk-in freezer, discarding his leather jacket on a hook on his way.
Truth be told he was breaking yours too, with his handsome face and his dumb smile, deep dimples you could think about for hours, and those eyes.  They told a story, a tragic story that maybe he would never care to share.  And that’s what broke your heart.  Suffering in silence.  You knew that feeling all too well.
“By the way…”  Eddie shouts from the freezer before appearing once again.  “I’m Eddie.”  He sticks his hand out toward you, two eggs held in his free hand.  
You look up at him, bewildered.  
“I never asked for your name.”  He reminds you with a shit-eating grin.
The Eddie you met weeks ago was gone as far as you were concerned.  All within a few hours, he seemed to warm up to you.
The scary dog was rolling over…for you.
~end~
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taste-thewaste · 1 year ago
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Henry’s first time trying to do his own laundry in the brownstone and will absolutely NOT admit that he accidentally shrunk his T shirts in the dryer and wears them around the house as slutty crop tops
this turned out so soft (like henry) i hope you enjoy!!
Read on AO3 if you prefer!
They never explicitly discussed it, but Alex does the laundry. Henry’s done his best learning all the tasks of domesticity–a lifetime of being waited on in a castle is hard to unlearn–but laundry has always eluded him. The washer just has so many buttons and the dryer…is it natural to stick something in a metal hole and have it come out piping hot and fluffy? Henry doesn’t think so. 
Alex has been perfectly fine doing the laundry, but then suddenly he’s gone for a week on a trip to DC and Henry’s stuck in the city and he’s out of t-shirts and he cannot simply lounge around in polos and button-ups. 
“I’m out of t-shirts,” Henry whines over Facetime one night to his boyfriend, pouting openly. 
“Wear one of mine,” Alex says. 
“You know that won’t work,” Henry says, panning the phone down to his tummy poking out over his jeans. 
“Oh, my poor little prince,” Alex says with fake sympathy, a grin on his face. “What are you going to do without me there to do your laundry?” 
“I could do my own laundry,” Henry says quickly, fake confidence coating his voice. “I could do my own laundry any time I want.” 
“Oh, could you? Prove it,” Alex says, and that settles it. Henry is doing his own laundry. 
Everything goes swimmingly with the washing machine (no one ever needs to know about the way it overflowed with suds because he cleaned it up right away and the floor needed to be washed anyways, thank you very much). It’s the dryer that ends up throwing a wrench into it. 
Into the dryer go all of his t-shirts, clean and smelling like soap, and when they come out they’re warm, dry and six inches shorter than they had been going in. 
Alex comes home a few days later and there is Henry, sitting on the couch, wearing his ‘Hollywood Handshake’ graphic t-shirt and reading Jane Austen. “Welcome home, love,” Henry says with a warm smile, and when he stands up, Alex bursts out laughing in a way he hasn’t in forever. 
“What are you laughing at?” Henry asks, hands on hips, and that only serves to make Alex laugh harder. Henry’s t-shirt, white with a photo of Paul Hollywood in the middle with the words ‘Hollywood Handshake’ in an arch above and below the picture, would’ve been funny enough (it had been a gag Christmas gift from Alex that Henry unironically loves). The fact that it can now only be called a crop top, Paul Hollywood’s face all squished up and Henry’s belly fully visible, is what sends Alex over the edge. 
“You shrank your t-shirts, didn’t you?” Alex asks between fits of giggles. 
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Henry says haughtily, but the glee emanating from Alex breaks down his resolve and he smiles, too. 
“I’m loving the new look, sweetheart. Especially this,” Alex says, and he comes over and pokes Henry’s tummy. Henry crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously but the grin on his face belies his body language and Alex pokes him again, tickles his belly. 
“Stooooop,” he says, laughing and reaching out and grabbing Alex by the shoulders. He tugs him closer and Alex wraps him into a hug. 
“I missed you,” Alex says, holding him tightly. Then he bends over and kisses Henry’s tummy, an action that sends a blush to Henry’s cheeks. “And I missed you.”  
“You are ridiculous,” Henry says softly, but there’s no malice behind the words, he’s feeling too soft for that. He loves how much Alex loves his body. 
“Tell me something, sweetheart,” Alex says, settling his hands on Henry’s hips. “Did you wash all your t-shirts? Did they all meet the same fate?” 
Henry nods. “Why do you ask?” 
Alex reaches out and pinches Henry’s belly so he yelps. “Just want to know how long the fashion show I’m going to force you into is going to be.” Henry’s laugh is music to Alex’s ears.
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