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samingtonwilson · 5 years

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Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket”

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese.

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched.

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy.

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow.

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this.

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese.

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make.

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space.

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket.

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you.

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey.

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp.

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet.

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him.

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile.

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s.

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure.

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese.

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones.

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it.

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.”

“Who says I haven’t already?”

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you.

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.”

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.”

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer.

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

#this reader is a human disaster #dkjfgdkjgj #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

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not-your-regular-writer · 3 years

Text

I wrote this for Valentine's Day this year after I saw this card:

And it totally looked like something Crowley would give Aziraphale haha. So enjoy :)

*Phone rings in the bookshop. Aziraphale picks up. It's Crowley.*

- Hello, Angel. Have I, by any chance, dropped my black leather coat at your place?

- Well, hello, Crowley. Which one, you own too many of them.

- Oh, you know, the... The... Well... You're probably right. Can't even describe it without making it look like the one I'm wearing right now.

- So how do you know it's missing?

- I just know. There's a void in my wardrobe. That's how I know. But it's ok, it's a cheap one, maybe it's in this mess I call a home. And... How are things up there?

- Oh... Things are just fine. Today is a special day, many clients have come looking for books, and I'm very much pleased to notice that people find appeasing to give books as gifts in a special date like today's.

- (hesitant) Special... Date?

- (Azi starts blushing for some reason) Valentine's...

- Oh, sure. That date. Can't stand it. Too much love on the streets. No wonder I've got a headache since I woke up this morning. Everything is so... Pink. And happy. Urgh, makes my stomach...

- (Irritated) I see, Crowley, you hate valentines day. Nothing new about it. If you excuse me, there's a line of clients waiting to get their sweeties a book.

- Oh, fine, then. Talk to you later.

- That remains to be seen.

- Wha...

*Azi hangs up, feeling a bit ouraged. He breathes deeply before going back to the clients, his eyes go over a chair next to him. The black coat is there. He can not only see it, but smell it from that distance. He sighs, reaching discreetly to it. Aziraphale had hidden a little poem in its pocket. He thought it would be sweet if he picked it up today, and found it alone, of course, maybe it would put a smile on his devilish handsome face. He wanted to play Crowley a bit, but he was so unpleasant Aziraphale gave up on the entire joke. He shakes his head, too upset to finish the gesture. But the smell trailed behind him. He felt so much love around him, humans could be so charming sometimes, that he forgot about Crowley for a while. "

Later that day...

*Aziraphale is organizing the last pile of books on the counter. It was a fine day, pleasant, cheery, fun. He made a good sale, and earlier that day he had picked up some roses to give as a courtesy to the buyers. He had cut up lots of pink and red paper hearts to have customers write a message to their sweethearts as a surprise inside the books. He had even baked some chocolate muffins in the shape of hearts, but as a treat to himself, guessing he would probably be alone by the end of the day, as always, but in the company of a good cup of tea and a new prophecy book that had just arrived from the 15th century...*

*The doorbell rings. He raises his eyes. Crowley is coming in, taking his glasses off. *

- Crowley... (hesitant) What a... (forcing a smile) Delightful surprise.

- Hey, angel. (looking around, embarrassed) I thought you'd be finished for today, so I thought we could... Have dinner, or something. You know, nothing special, I mean, we always have dinner, it's...

- (smiling the tiniest of grins, out of sight, still with his back turned to Crowley, putting the books back on the shelf) Oh, yes, just dinner. I suppose the Ritz is going to be a bit... Busy for the night, so...

- Oh. You're right. Maybe it is not the best night to dine out...

- Indeed, my friend. (a bit optimistic) But we could arrange something...

- I don't know, angel. Now that you've mentioned it, it's true. It's gonna be noisy, and... Crowded... And... You're probably right. I didn't really think through it.

- Well, I... (he turns around, getting closer to Crowley, who is still at the door) I could cook for us. I mean, I do not mean to brag about it, but I happen to be a very good cook, thank you.

- Oh, I do know that. We could have some... Pasta?

- I'm thinking a very tasty ravioli, marinara sauce, maybe some corn bread and cheese, and... Oh, we'll see.

- I don't wanna impose...

- Of course not, my friend, it is no imposition.

- Then let me get us some red wine to go along with it.

- (Excited again) Fabulous. Then, I will get dinner done, meet you here in an hour?

- Sure, sure. I will... Get the wine.

*Crowley is out on the street, it's been one hell of a task to find fine red wine around, but he managed. When he was getting back to the bookshop, he saw something that sparkled an idea on his mind... *

*Back to the bookshop. Aziraphale is cooking, much amused and pleased with himself. He's distracted checking the taste of his marinara, and he can't see Crowley coming closer.*

- Aziraphale?

- (Jumping) Oh, for good heavens! You almost never use my name, what has got into you to do that?

- (smiling, a bit shy, unusual for him) I... I... (going to say something, but changing his mind) I found our wine. Your favorite of course. Had to put some effort into it, what one doesn't do for a nice bottle of Pinot Noir?

- Oh... (frowning, a bit confused) Definitely. Would you be so kind to put it on the table, along with the basket of bread?

- Yeah, yeah, no problem. (he picks up the wine and the basket, still fighting with words. He makes up his mind, dropping both, and picking something from his pocket, handing it abruptly to Aziraphale). Here. It's for you.

- (Startled, running his hand on the white apron he put on to cook, a little upset, maybe thinking the should have picked a more appropriate moment to give gifts) Ah... Well... (speechless, he picks up. It's a card, a blank white paper, written in black and white, very simple, very blasé. Aziraphale listens to his heart in his years, reading it intently).

- (Crowley starts talking fastly, trying to distract the mood, the sweetness of the occasion) I know it's valentine's day, but you know, humans send cards to one another, anyway, it just felt weird to just not say anything, so I got you this card. It's not a big deal. It doesn't really mean anything. There isn't even a heart on it. So basically it's a card. Saying hi. (Exhales, embarrassed) Oh, forget it...

*Aziraphale hugs him, tender and carefully, his eyes are glistening, he feels much happier than he can express, but he just hugs him, hoping the gesture speaks for itself. Crowley is still as a rock, eyes wide, hands on his pockets. He tries for a pat on the back, but he can't seem to make his hands work. He notices Aziraphale's face is very close to his, he can smell his skin, his white smooth hair, almost tempted to touch it... They part. Aziraphale is smiling beautifully, like only an angel could. Like only Aziraphale could, actually. *

- Thank you, dear.

*Crowley nods his head, not sure of what he could say, but Aziraphale doesn't seem to need it. He goes back to the stove, still holding the card close to his heart without even noticing. It makes Crowley smile, but he takes the bottle and the basket back to put them on the table. The smile never left his face.*

*They have a nice dinner, talking, joking, discussing, eating and drinking. It was a fine night, like many others they had together. But this one had something to it, a different glow, a lighter atmosphere. Crowley is ready to go back to his apartment, his heart is a little heavy, and he wonders why. It is an unusual feeling, but curiously, he can't remember feeling it towards anyone else but Aziraphale. They stand by the door, Aziraphale has that candid smile again after going in the back and getting Crowleys coat.*

- Here. I was just playing you.

- I knew it! Aren't you becoming a trickster yourself?

- (smiles wider) I've got my charms...

- (low voice) You do. (Louder) Ah, so... I should get going. It was a fine meal, I must say.

- Well, thank you. It was a fine company, as always, my friend.

- Well... Happy... Night. Of February... 14th.

- Ditto, in fact, it's almost February 15th.

- Sure... See you around.

- Definitely

- Bye, Angel.

- Bye, Crowley.

*Crowley walks towards his car, feeling a bit dizzy. It was probably all that love thing in the air. At this hour, a bit more than love should be in the air, in fact. He breathed the air, closing his eyes, holding the coat in his hands. Something fell, and he picked up. It was a pink piece of paper. It had Aziraphale handwriting in it. He frowned.*

- He wrote a poem. For... Me.

*He turns around, looking at the bookshop, but now it's all dark and empty. Aziraphale probably went to rest. He would not bother him, right? Maybe... Maybe he didn't even intended for him to find it, maybe he forgot. Yes, he must have forgotten, he didn't even mention... He looks down at the paper again. The feeling of being completely filled inside, but so empty at the same time. So light and so heavy. So close and so far. He gets into his car, putting the poem back in his pocket. He starts driving, too pleased to admit. But the smile is there, crossing his face with the light of a thousand stars.*

*A light shines in the upper window of the bookshop. Aziraphale watched the entire scene. He eats a muffin, too glad to mind, looking at the card over the table. It was the best Valentines Day he had in centuries. Things were getting better."

#neil gaiman #michael sheen #ineffable wives #aziraphale #crowley #david tennant #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

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lala-ladybug · 3 years

Text

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

Previous | Next

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

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zebrabaker · 4 years

Text

Families Lost and Found

Here we go, a brand new story, ft Jasonette, with a side of badass Marinette.

Marinette had many fond memories of being young. Her Mama singing her ancient lullabies as she combed her jet black hair. Visiting with Aunt Talia twice a year, and meeting her Godson Damain Al Ghul. Celebrating Chinese New Year with her maternal family in China, and being slipped small weapons along with her hongbao, eating jian dui with her cousins in between lessons. Her Aunties teaching her how to use her beauty to beguile and bewilder. Her Uncles showing her how to hold a knife. Her Maa-Maa showing her how to sew hidden pockets into all her clothes, and Ah-Gung showing her the many pressure points on a man that could cripple someone in seconds. Her older female cousins taught her how to use her bu yao as a deadly weapon, all the soft spots on a person that would hurt the worst when stabbed with the sharpened hair ornaments. Her older male cousins lessons were in subterfuge and misdirection. By the time she was seven, Marinette was well aware that most girls her age weren’t taught these things. But hey, Marinette was the next head of the Parisian branch of the Triad. Her younger cousin Bridgette would be her second in command, as she was the daughter of Maa-Maa and Ah-Ghung’s second child, Marinette’s Uncle Lee Cheng. Marinette knew her second and third cousins were scattered across Europe, ruling their branches with a velvet covered iron fist, as they were all taught, by family law.

She had been on her way home from a ‘family gathering’, really just a meeting at the front Cousin Yo owned, a large rental hall that could be equipped for any even. In reality, it was a trimonthly gathering of all heads of the Triad’s French branch. They were all, aside from her and her mother, from different cities across the country. She was almost back to her penthouse when she saw it, a man leaning against the wall of her building and staring at the five star Italian restaurant across the street. The restaurant that just so happened to be her eighteenth birthday gift from Mama, and a front for a smuggling ring the Triad had started almost ten years ago. They didn’t smuggle drugs or guns, but refugees, people who needed a new place to call home for some reason or another. Could he be a cop? Or worse, from the Russians? They had been rearing their heads again, trying to push their experimental heroine blend onto Triad streets, and Sabine had been sure to stomp them into the dust.

Waving her hand nonchalantly, her guards paused, and Marinette advanced on the man. His eyes snapped to hers, and his gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. His hair was peeking out from under a rather beat up beanie, and most of it was black, aside from a few white strands hanging over his eyes. She could see that under his mismatched clothes, he was wrapped like a mummy in bandages.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“I... I’m from Talia. She said to find -” He manage to get out, before his eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a brick.

“Boys!” Marinette calls, and her guards, two men from the Italians, ‘gifted’ to her as goodwill gifts on her sixteenth birthday, Tony and Bobby, leapt into action, grabbing the man under the arm and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Marinette grabbed her key card from her phone wallet and swiped it at the keypad that opened the door to the lobby. The building was owned entirely by members of the Triad, filled with families of those in service to the organization. It was securely guarded 24/7, and the higher up in the building you were, the higher ranked you were. Marinette was in the penthouse, an entire floor to herself. Her guards and closest confidants had apartments on the floor just below her. Waving off the doorman, Marinette made her way straight for the elevator bay and pressed the call button for her personal elevator.

The ride was agonizingly slow, but after what felt like hours, the car arrived at her hallway. Digging her keys out of her purse, Marinette quickly unlocked the door and ushered her guards inside.

“Set him on the couch and go home, I need to check him for injuries.” Tony and Bobby shared a discomforted look, but nodded and obeyed her orders. Marinette quickly grabbed her first aid kit from the bathroom, a massive, clunky thing that could probably stock a small doctor’s office for days. When she came back, the man was still asleep on the couch, breathing slowly and deep. Now that she looked him over more carefully, his clothes were clearly stolen, as none of them seemed to fit quite the same. With a sigh, Marinette drew the medical scissors from the case and began to casually cut away his jacket. Underneath that was a hoodie, with presumably another layer underneath. This would take a while. Sighing, Marinette pulled away and threw aside the scraps of material. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but she would have to keep going to be sure. After the hoodie came a long sleeve shirt and a tank-top, and he was left coated in bandages from the waist up. He was swaddled like a damn mummy, oddly enough. He had mentioned Auntie Talia...could she have? No, Great-Uncle Ras would never allow some random outsider or underling to be bathed in the pits, he was far too possessive for that.

Right as she started cutting upwards from the hem of the man’s pant legs, he sat bolt right up, gasping. He saw her and scrambled backwards, while Mari just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Where am I?” He demanded, eyes darting around the living room.

“Relax, my name is Marinette, and you’re in Paris, in my penthouse. I found you outside, you collapsed. My guards and I brought you in. I started cutting away your clothes so that I could assess you for injuries. I believe you’ve had some experience with my Auntie Talia and her League, and she sent you to find me. She would have said to find ‘she who rises’. It’s the meaning of my name, Marinette. Now, please sit down. I’m not armed, and I don’t intend to harm you. Look, you can pat me down if you need to make sure I’m not armed at all.” The man gave her a wary look, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, perched on the very edge of the cushion. Good, Auntie Talia had instilled him with some preservation instincts.

“So, Auntie? I’m going to assume you’re related to Ras and Damain, then.”

“Not at all.” Marinette scoffed. “My family runs the Parisian Triad, and all future heads are trained by the League for a year and a day. Ras trained my mother at the same time as Talia was beginning to train. They consider themselves sisters, making Talia my Auntie. I am, however, Damian’s godmother. He’s a sweet boy, once you put aside the homicidal tendencies. Are you hungry? I can have the place across the street, the one you were staking out, run us some food. Anything specific you want? Their ravioli is to die for.”

“That would...that would be great. I’ll eat anything.” The man (who looked to be around her age, late twenties) seemed caught off guard by her kindness.

“So, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Marinette commented, texting James, the head chef of Nona Gina’s to bring over her usual plus a plate of ravioli.

“My name is Jason. So, you mentioned the Parisian Triad.”

“Yup. My Mama is the current head, I have a year and a half before I take over. Tradition states I become head on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Any chance you’re looking for a new body guard? I’m gonna need to find a job, and I can guarantee that I’m good.” Marinette paused, thinking for a moment. Both her guards were more than adequate, but Bobby had come to her last week, and asked to be transferred to a more sedate job, as his wife (Laura, a lovely woman) had just birthed their third child, and he wanted a little more time off. Jason, on one hand, was likely League trained, and probably had no where else to go. On the other hand, he was a complete unknown, and it would be a week at least before she would be able to contact Auntie Talia and have a response as to whether the man was telling the truth. Well, Bridgette always said she was too soft.

“Good news for you is, I am. You can start as soon as the family doctor looks you over and gives you a clean bill of health. The issue is, what will your cover be?”

“Er, cover?” Jason asked.

“I’m going to need an excuse to suddenly have a random guy escorting me all over Paris, and it’s not exactly common knowledge that I’m the next head of the Triad. I’m also something of a public figure here in Paris.” Marinette blushed at the reminder. Her brand, MDC, had taken off not long after she graduated, thanks to Jagged bragging about her at every turn. “I mean,” she snorted. “we could go the route of claiming you’re my boyfriend or something.” Giggling, Marinette stood and made her way towards her room. “Try to think of something, while I grab a quick shower. I can’t stand family meetings.” Leaving Jason seated on the couch, lost in thought, Marinette shut her door behind her and fired off a quick text to the number saved as “Auntie T’ in her main phone, before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her walk in and heading to the attached bathroom. She had some thinking to do.

#jasonette #maribat #badass marinette #tw: triad #FLAF #my writing

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generalfoolish · 3 years

Text

Feel The Heat

Part One: Cruel World

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Rating: 18+ Warnings: fem masturbation, male masturbation, cursing, mentions of casual sex

Word Count: 4k

Summary: June visits the farmer's market and meets Frankie, a grumpy farmer. She's interested, but they're both MASSIVE idiots.

A/N: Hey babes! I've been working on this massive Farmer!Frankie AU with an OC. I'm excited to debut this first part, the story is going to be a little slower so I can put in SO much pining. Anyway, enjoy 💕

Masterlist | Part two

June breathed in the fresh air as she pulled her tote strap onto her shoulder. The canvas bag held her wallet and keys, but was otherwise empty. She smiled, knowing that soon enough it would be almost too heavy.

The farmer's market was always busy on Saturday morning, and this one was no exception, she realized as she neared the stalls. She had a certain path she liked to follow, but she was feeling overwhelmed about the crowd. It was much busier than she had anticipated, and she always got a little panicky in throngs of too many people. So, she veered off her normal route, and found herself on the far end of the market.

It was much quieter, and much less crowded, she noticed right away. June also noticed that the produce was amazing. Late summer the fruit started to get a little smaller, but the berries at these stalls were still plump. The vegetables weren't as uniform as some of the bigger stalls, these were misshapen and discolored. Two indicators that the flavor would be divine, she thought as she roamed the stalls.

Her bag was getting heavy quickly, she noted, and she was determined to explore the whole area, so she walked straight to the end. The last stall on the property. Her hopes were not high as she marched up to the display stand.

"Would you like to try the tomatoes?" A rich baritone asked, and she quickly met his eyes. They were silky and brown, and breathtakingly deep. He had his cap pulled low, but his face was scruffy.

"Sure, that would be great. Are you the farmer?" June asked, taking the sample, and eyeing the selection.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Frankie, and that is a Brandywine. All of my produce is hand picked, and that process starts at seed selection." He told her, his voice softening. She smiled and popped the tomato into her mouth. It was delicious. Acidic and sweet, not overpowering to the palate. Frankie must have seen the delight on her face because he grinned, knowing what she was experiencing.

"Wow, Farmer Frankie, this is so good." She laughed a little as she chewed, wanting to savor it. "I'll take a basket please." She decided, and nodded down at his table. He nodded and started to bag it. "I have a bag, thanks! What do I owe you?" She asked, pulling out some cash. He merely waved his hand.

"Don't worry about it." He told her. June only frowned.

"I can't do that. You worked so hard, I want to buy something." He chuckled and took his cap off before running his hand over his head.

"Look, it's early, and I couldn't possibly charge someone as beautiful as you." She blushed deeply, but thrust a twenty at him anyway.

"My beauty isn't for sale, but your tomatoes are. Have a good day, Frankie." She told him and turned around quickly. She wasn't normally bold, and she had no qualms with getting stuff for free. She had no idea why she had fought him, but as she walked away all she could think about were his beautiful, brown eyes.

—

Frankie kicked himself hard as he watched the woman walk away from him. What was he thinking? He didn't even catch her name; he had no business calling her beautiful. He was off his game, and badly.

His phone buzzed, so he fished it out of his shirt pocket. An old t-shirt with a pocket on the chest, tattered and dirty, and that's what she saw when she walked up to him. What was she doing in the back of the market anyway, no one ever came this far back. He opened the message and sighed at how long the group chat was. Santiago and Benny could talk for hours, even texting. He wasn't up for it this morning, which wasn't unusual. He skimmed the messages, and decided it wasn't worth responding to. He had to sell some produce.

He looked down at the crisp twenty dollar bill on the table and cringed again. Twenty was way too much for the tomato basket. They were marked purposefully cheap, since they cost nothing to grow and always brought people back, and she had overpaid. Grossly. Even a ten would have been too much. And what had he done? Nothing. He hadn't even gotten her name. All he knew was that she looked great in shorts, her hair was a deep red, and she loved his tomatoes.

—

"What do you mean?" Stella asked, sipping her glass of wine.

"I mean how do I fix it? Like I want to try his other stuff, but I was so rude." June told her, sighing into her own glass. Zinfandels usually brought her mood up, but she was still feeling from earlier.

"You just go back, darling. I doubt he'll remember you. I mean you only talked for five seconds. Also, I think paying for your stuff is the opposite of rude." Stella took a bite of her pasta before pointing her fork back at June. "Unless, it's more than that. It's definitely more than that. Are you trying to date the farmer?" June felt her face flush, and quickly took a bite of her own pasta to buy some time to think. She had gotten worked up, but she hadn’t thought about why that was. She grumbled as she bit into the ravioli. It was dumb, but Stella was right. She wanted to get to know Frankie more. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but she wanted to see him again.

Stella took Juniper’s silence as a win, and a grin spread across her face. June had always thought that Stella’s signatured wicked grin could rival the Cheshire Cat, and this one was no different. Too bad, June thought, that she hadn’t tumbled down a trippy tunnel where answers were held in clearly labeled vials. She took a wistful sip of her wine and looked back up to Stella.

“You’re right. But have I messed it up too bad? Like, I was pretty rude.” Stella laughed.

“You could have stepped on him and he’d thank you for it. June, you’re hot. He’d be lucky if you even thought about him. You couldn’t have messed it up.” June laughed, not really any more confident, but loving Stella’s hype game anyway.

“How’s...Bernard?” June asked, struggling to remember the man’s name. Stella had a habit of switching out lovers pretty often. June thought of it as her “man of the week,” and while it was good fun for her to envision a horrible reality show it wasn’t conducive to remembering their names, or anything about them.

“Ben,” Stella sighed, correcting June and pausing dramatically, “Is gone. I’m seeing Javi now. He’s much younger, and a lot richer.” Stella teased, taking another mouthful of food. June rolled her eyes. Stella had launched a business when she was in college, and had made a small fortune by the time they graduated. She was independently wealthy. In a way that June was not. June had opted for an education degree, and now was in charge of a bunch of literal children.

She took a sip of her wine and considered that path for a moment. She actually loved her job. She didn’t make shit, but it was worth the long hours to see those kids be nurtured and educated. She cared for them, and that made it worth the lack of zeros in her bank account.

“Javi, huh? He sounds posh.” June said, not really thinking about Javi or Stella’s various other affairs.

“He is not. He’s new money, so we can be tacky together. Anyway, lunch is on him!” Stella told her, laughing. June cringed at that, thinking back to Frankie. She groaned. She should have just taken the damn tomatoes. She didn’t even want them now, the thought of eating them just made her shrivel in on herself.

While Stella took care of the bill, June wondered if she shouldn’t just go back to the stall. Introduce herself and apologize, she thought. It’s the only thing to do in this situation. She set to getting her nerve up to do it, but at the end of lunch she just hugged Stella and went home.

Frankie slid into the booth next to Benny and across from Santiago and Will. When he had gotten around to answering the text chain the guys had decided to go out for a drink, and Frankie had wanted a drink after his day.

“Fish, Liv wants to stay the night.” Will announced, watching Frankie take a thoughtful sip.

“If Becka doesn’t mind, neither do I.” He shrugged, and Will nodded. Becka had been Frankie’s saviour. She was Will’s wife, but her and her little girl had taken up with Liv so easily. Being a single dad was not easy, but Becka had never let him feel alone. Hell, she handled everything for him. She was too good to him.

“Course not. She loves Liv. Not as much as Ashley, but I think she loves having another kid to spoil. Bad news for me, probably.” Will laughed out, and the rest joined in. No one had expected Will to get married so quickly, and none of the guys had been prepared for his girl to already have a kid in tow. Will had taken to Ashley quickly though, and had settled into the family role easily. Frankie noted Will’s painted nails and smiled. He was lucky to have such a great group of brothers.

“Enough kid talk, I have a fight coming up. You coming?” Benny asked, nudging Frankie’s arm. Frankie took his cap off and ran his hand through his hair.

“Who’re you up against?” Will asked before Frankie could answer. Honestly, he was searching for an excuse. Not that he didn’t want to support Benny, but the fights were always too loud, too tempting.

“Jones. It’s a special rematch. That’s why I need my boys there! Pam!” Benny hollered after the waitress and held up four fingers. Shots, Frankie thought sarcastically, just what they needed.

“Ben, of course, we’ll all be there. I’m bringing a plus one, though.” Santi announced, demanding the attention of the table.

“Who’s the victim this time?” Frankie asked, sipping his beer. Santi shot him a dirty look and clapped his hands together.

“Her name is…” He paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “Sam.” Frankie rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“What does Sam do?” Will asked, not minding the dramatics.

“Sam is a school teacher.” Frankie’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Surely, not.” Benny snorted. Pam sat the shots down, and everyone grabbed one.

“To Santi, maybe learning something!” Will toasted, and they threw back. Frankie relaxed as the tequila warmed his throat. This was normal, and meeting with the guys did his body some good. He wouldn’t even think about the woman from earlier. He grimaced as he thought about it. His problem, he was realizing, was that he was too sober. He caught Pam’s eye and nodded at her. They came to this bar enough that they knew the waitstaff by name, and the waitstaff knew their orders. Frankie preferred it that way, less chance of an awkward encounter.

“Sam is a local gal, but she has not yet heard of me.” Santi told the group, clutching his drink. He had a bit of a reputation of being a lady killer. It was rare he found someone who didn’t recognize his name.

“I guess teachers aren’t normally in the same crowd as strippers.” Benny joked, and grabbed his shot when Pam sat them down. “Damn Fish, long day?” They knocked them back, and Frankie just nodded.

“There was this lady at the stall today. Total knockout, and I just flubbed it hard. It was early, y’know?” They all laughed at him and he couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face.

“She’ll be back. I mean, look at yourself, Fish. You’ve got it back together.” Will offered. Frankie smiled at him and sipped his beer again. They shifted to riling Benny up about his on and off again girl, so Frankie just relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for him to space out, and the guys could fill any silence. He surveyed the bar, taking in the patrons and just assessing the crowd. Saturday nights could go two ways: chill or not chill. It was an old habit to scan for danger, but it suited Frankie. He could sip his beer and watch for thugs or idiots or drunks. The waitstaff never complained when they stepped in. He supposed they didn’t mind four ex-service guarding them a few times a month. Sometimes they drank for free, but Frankie had no issues with bloodying his knuckles up every now and again.

He was smirking, thinking about their last fight, when he saw her. He had to do a double-take to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him. He couldn’t believe it. There she was. She’d changed. Opting for small jeans shorts and a tight t-shirt over the yoga shorts she’d had on before. He gulped loudly, and shifted in the booth. Her hair was down, curled, and she looked amazing. He didn’t think she could look any better. He wanted to go to her. Instead he leaned on the table and cleared his throat.

“She’s here.” He told the guys dumbly, cutting off something that Benny was saying.

“Who is?” Santi asked, looking around, probably for Frankie’s ex. They all hated her, but she wouldn’t come here.

“The girl from earlier. The knockout.” Frankie told them, trying to keep his voice low. He nodded in her direction, surprised that she hadn’t noticed him. It wasn’t a large bar. Maybe she didn’t recognize him, he thought. He flushed even as he thought it. He hoped she would remember him. Santi whistled low as he faced Frankie.

“She’s good.” He murmured, and took a sip. Will and Benny agreed.

“Buy her a drink, Fish.” Benny suggested, clapping Frankie on the back. He grimaced as the loud noise rose above the din of the bar. As if on cue, she looked up and saw him. He was staring at her, and there she was, looking at him. He looked away, chickening out. He wouldn’t say anything. She had stormed off earlier, hadn’t she? She should apologize to him, he thought, getting his hackles up.

June couldn’t believe it. She had agreed to go out with the new girl from work, came to a bar she had never been to, and here he was. He looked great, she admitted to herself. He had thrown a plaid button up over his shirt, and it suited him. Farmer Frankie, she mused, and then turned to Samantha.

“Do you come here a lot?” Samantha looked up from her hard seltzer and shook her head.

“I came with this guy I’m kind of seeing. Everyone knew him here, and I liked the scene. It’s kind of dive-y.” June nodded, and took a drink of her rum and coke.

“Are you settling in, you know at school?” June asked, deciding to ignore the farmer. If he wanted to say something, she wouldn’t stop him, but she had no intentions of approaching him.

“Oh yeah, you know Keira? She’s been super helpful.” June nodded in agreement, Keira was the secretary but she ran the place.

“Like your kids? You’re what 5th?” Samantha nodded.

“I have no idea how you handle those 6 year olds, they’re too wild for me.” June laughed.

“I couldn’t handle the ball jokes, honestly. Tweens are the worst.” They both laughed, and sipped their drinks. June felt eyes on her, but tried to ignore them. She repeated to herself: if he wanted to talk, he’d come over. She made it her mantra. She focused on Samantha, willing the handsome man to go away.

“Tell me about this guy you’re seeing! I haven’t been on a date in so long.” June laughed, not wanting to admit how long it had really been.

“He’s so sexy, June. Like, literally so hot. It’s mostly sex though. We’ve been out dancing once, drinking a couple times, but it’s mostly just hook ups. I’m thinking about breaking it off, honestly. Like, the sex is good, great even, but how long is that sustainable, y’know? Like, I want to nurture a relationship at some point.” June nodded, trying to push her jealousy aside enough to be empathetic. She would take some great sex, even if it meant not having a relationship.

She peeked back at the Farmer, who flitted his eyes away as soon as she did, and knew that wasn’t true. She was long overdue for a meaningless hookup, but she wanted something real, whatever the hell that meant.

“Have you tried just telling him? I mean, maybe he doesn’t know you want something more. Men are kind of oblivious to that sort of stuff.” June added. Samantha took a sip, thoughtfully.

“That’s a good idea, Junie. Are you seeing anyone?” June laughed, a little too loudly.

“Just my therapist.” Samantha swatted her shoulder playfully. “No, I, uhm, I got out of a bad relationship last year and I’ve been so nervous to get back in the game.”

“Oh my gosh, my guy has tons of friends! Maybe I can set you up?” June thought for a minute.

“Maybe, I guess I could be open to it.”

“They’re all like ex-Army or something. I’ll text him.” June watched Samantha tug her phone out, and tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. He will come to you, she reminded herself. “Ooh, two single friends! Fish or Benny? Oh nevermind, just Fish. Apparently, Benny has drama. Bullet dodged there, huh?” June snorted, bullet dodged indeed. Fish? What a weird nickname.

“What the hell, set it up.” June told her, throwing back the rest of her drink and indicating another to the bartender.

“Yay! I’m so happy you came! Tuesday night?” June nodded.

“Have him come to the Italian place on 5th street at 7pm. I have parent-teacher conferences, but that should be late enough.” June explained, sipping deeply. Her hands were shaking, she hadn’t been on a proper date in years. Her ex hadn’t been one for dates, so she was out of practice. She raised her eyes to meet Frankie’s, knowing he’d look away immediately. He didn’t, but the look on his face was confusing. Almost angry, so she looked behind her and saw a guy approaching.

“Hey, I’m Kyle.” He introduced himself and sat down on the stool next to her. She looked at him bewildered.

“June.” She said shortly, taking another sip.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Kyle asked.

“Have one.”

“The next one?”

“I think I’m good. There are a lot of empty stools, why don’t you find a new one.” She murmured lowly, and turned her back to him. Samantha giggled.

“I think I know why you don’t get dates!” June rolled her eyes.

“It’s pretty lame, okay. To come up and just sit down. I’m already a little drunk too, it’s just not very cool, Kyle.” June chided, raising her voice so he’d hear. She sighed when he left, and looked back at the booth where Frankie was. The booth was empty, now, she realized sadly. She wished he had approached her. She wouldn’t have turned him away. Why was he so cold?

By the time she made it back to her door, June was pissed. She stumbled in her hallway and pulled her shoes off. They hadn’t been at the bar that long, but the last round of shots had been the death blow for her. Samantha had bid her farewell, saying her ride was there. So, June had ordered an Uber, clutching her keys like a weapon, hoping Kyle didn’t want revenge or something. She pretended to be sober in the Uber, and had chatted easily with the driver on the drive to her house.

Once inside though, June groaned in frustration. She couldn’t believe the stupid luck. It was too much, seeing him there. It was too bizarre, too much of a coincidence. She had stormed upstairs and turned the shower on.

A habit she had started in college, when she was overwhelmed, a hot shower was just the thing she needed. She stripped down and stepped in before the water had warmed up completely, but she didn’t really notice. The shower was just a vessel; June just needed space to decompress. So, she thought about the tanned skinned farmer, and how cold he had seemed. He hadn’t seemed interested, but she had felt his eyes on her all night. She had seen his anger at another guy approaching her. She had felt how angry he was from across the room.

She lathered her body up, and almost absent-mindedly rubbed small circles around her budding nipples. She worked down, and let the soap wash off. She didn’t normally masturbate, but his brooding face and broad shoulders wouldn’t leave her mind. So, she slipped a finger inside herself with one hand, and worked her clit with the other. It was lazy at first, but then she remembered their encounter from the morning and she started going harder, getting worked up. She came hard, whimpering to herself in the steamy shelter of her bathroom. The hot water pelted her skin, and she rested her forehead against the cool, tiled wall.

Whoever this Fish was, she was going to fuck him. She had to get this farmer out of her mind.

Frankie was seeing red as he stormed up to his door. Of course, he had no reason to be pissed. He knew he had no reason to be pissed, but here he was, stomping to his kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He had wanted to break that guy’s legs for even coming near her. He scoffed at himself, her. He didn’t even know her name and he was ready to pummel someone for looking. Someone was looking, someone would always be looking. She was so gorgeous. He folded over his counter and rested his forehead against his hands. Nothing could help it now. Santi’s girl had messaged him, and the night was over. What was he supposed to do? Watch his dream girl get hit on by some idiot? March up and apologize for being such a giant dickhead? He suspected he was onto something, but he was just buzzed enough to ignore it.

He went to the couch, and threw a few stuffed animals on the floor. He had already kicked off his shoes, but he let his jeans fall to the floor now. The perks of Liv having a sleepover, he chuckled to himself before laying out on the couch. He adjusted himself, his hard dick straining against his underwear.

He planned to ignore that too. But, then he was thinking about her. Her hair down her back, deep and dark. Her smooth skin, inviting and leading his eyes to her ass. He pulled himself free and started slowly rubbing. He thumbed over the tip, and groaned at the precum pooling there. He wanted her so bad. He started thinking about how soft she would be, what she would look like on her knees doing this to him, and he fucked up harder into his fist. He closed his eyes when he felt the snap, and grunted through the orgasm. He wiped his hand down his shirt, and groaned.

He had to get her out of his head.

Part Two: Something More

#catfish #triple frontier #frankie morales #Frankie morales #Frankie Morales x oc #Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #smut #juniper collins #benny miller #will miller #santiago garcia #oc #tf oc

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

Text

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

-------------

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

--------------

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 5 years

Text

DonnyxReader Postwar Headcannons :)

Requested by @livingshitpost : Sorry it took a while, luv :(

@owba-chan @inglourious-imagines @war-obsessed @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67

*Let me know if you wanna be added to the basterds or OUATIH taglist!

Let me know if you have any requests! :)

***********************************************************

*Ahem*

Yes. Donny is, was, has always been, and always will be a goddamn basterd. In every way possible.

But...that doesn’t mean he ain’t a goddamn sweetheart.

And boy oh boy, is he a fucking sweetheart. A goddamn angel, when he’s with you.

(And only you <3 )

When walks around with you (going downtown on chores, visiting his parents, or little nights on the town) he always keeps an arm around you.

You don’t understand...

That basterd is buff....

his arm is h e a v y... and he don’t let go.

He tells you “Boston’s a big town, with bigger assholes.” and

“I like showin’ off my baby.”

Which is all fine an’ dandy...but the truth was he missed you... He missed the hell out of you, kiddo, And he used anything and everything as an excuse to spend as much time with you, and be close to you as possible.

He knows the war took a lot out of you... Speaking of which....

People always wanna hear about it, people always ask him about it. After all, Donny is the man that killed hitler. Donny was one of the basterds that saved the world. His name was everywhere, his face was on every paper.

Everyone just wanted to know.

but.... Donny wants to know about you. He wants to hear about you, what you did, what it was like back home.

After all....most of what he did was miss you.

And besides...he never gets tired of it.

You think your stories are pretty boring compared to his. But goddamn can that basterd listen to you. He can listen to you for a million years, and never stop smiling, never stop asking about it, and never stop listening.

shit, that smile...

You built planes, you designed them, you even painted them.

Your paintings...

Damn Donny missed lookin at your sketchbooks, and letting you draw on his hand and arms. You’d done it since you were in school together...

Even after all this time...You couldn’t stop blushing...You know?

Once, when you two were just getting together, you gave him a drawing of a carnation that he gave you, with a ribbon, with his initials and yours on it.

And you know, he kept that sketch on him, all the time, when he deployed, when he got dropped in France, and when he came home.

He never let it go.

Sure...it got a bit crumpled...some blood, some dirt on it here and there.

and he was paranoid of losing it, so...he got it TATTOOED

And you almost died when you saw it when he came home.

“Goddamn, Y/n, it’s not so bad.” He laughed as he held you, trying to calm you down when you found out, “I needed to make sure I always had a piece of you with me.”

“It ain’t so bad.” He winked at you, as he flexed his ink. He always loved the way you drew and painted...

You had an eye for art, and a love for the beauty in the world. You never lost that. Not even with the war.

Actually...it was part of the reason Donny fought.

He volunteered.

He wanted to save that part of you, save your muse. That was half the reason he fought on.

The other half of the reason, well...

it was you.

You were the reason he came home, because at the end of the day, you were his muse.

So now...well, now you’re stuck with him.

And that’s not so bad. (You get used to it ;D )

Well actually, only dinner is a bit questionable with him.

He tells you he learned ot mame the best out of nothin’...

You don’t quite have the heart to tell him his ravioli is mush... So you eat it every Friday night.

That’s real love ^^^

And...He hates doing dishes. Always has.

He gets a bit pouty sometimes, believe it or not.

But... He did swear he’d do anything for you when he was away. Dishes included... And anyway, he gets calls and letters from the boys every now and again, and they r e m i n d h i m.

So...he grumbles under his breath as he washes the dishes.

“Goddamn...fuck a duck...kill hitler and now I gotta...fucken...”

You toss a towel at him.

“Alright, alright. I wash, you dry.” You roll your eyes with a slight grin....You also didn’t have the heart to tell him he can’t wash dishes for shit.

Donny saved up, and got a TV set....

They were just gettin’ popular.

Of course....he sort of hogs it whenever there’s a Red Sox game.

You both went back to civilian life...But that doesn’t mean everything is just back to normal. Not for either of you.

And that was ok.

Sometimes he couldn’t sleep. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of night, in a cold sweat, listening to the marching boots in the distant memories.

The only thing that could get him to close his eyes was your arms around him.

But every morning. Every morning, he’d wake you up with soft kisses.

and that smile.

Y’ know.

That smile.

Those kisses, that smile, and the smell of burnt toast....

But somehow, he’d get sunny side up eggs done right.

S o m e h o w

Sometimes you’d come home late from work...And he’d be pouty.

He’d never admit why, but you had a pretty good guess.

He waited so long to come home.

Sometimes, he was scared...

He’d seen the worst of the world...

To him, you were the best the world had to offer...And he knew life, and he knew death by then.

He wondered sometimes how he earned you. And sometimes feared you’d be taken from him...

You knew that look...

and it broke your heart.

ever. damn. time.

You’d smile, and you’d play with his hair until you felt him loosen up his shoulders.

you always promise him softly, “Hey... I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d hold on to you, and wish he’d never have to let go.

You take his hand...

You lay together on the couch, the radio playing softly in the background, songs written for the former soldiers in moments like these.

The music was softer and slower than what you used to listen to together.

You still had some of those records around...

You used to dance from dusk till dawn in clubs together. Swinging bats wasn’t the only kind of swing Donny could do, after all.

You were just kids then, before the war...

It wasn’t so long ago, but after all that you’d both been through, it seemed like a life time ago.

You didn’t quite mind.

You were a bit older now, but you still had a lifetime ahead of you, together.

#Donny Donowitz #donny donowitz x reader #the bear jew #Inglourious Basterds #headcannons #donny donowitz headcannon

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amshy-dontlookatme · 5 years

Text

Touch Starved Reader Pt.1

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Hanta Sero, Shinsou Hitoshi

Warnings: None really.

A/N: Got inspired to write some touch starved reader headcannons for some of the Class 1-A students. I suffer from touch starvation so I could relate very easily. Will be writing touch aversion headcannons later on and possibly touch starved character headcannons as well!

Bakugou Katsuki

At the first mention of you having touch starvation, is researching it like a monster

Calmly sits with you through any emotional waves that come if you haven’t had physical contact with anyone for a long, long time

Gains a collection of tools to help you ease into more substantial touches if you’ve developed a touch aversion

Doesn’t often like PDA but will try to add little bumps and brushes throughout the day

Moving hair out of your face, resting a hand on your back while you walk to class, moving close enough so your arms lean against each other when no one is looking

Constantly checking in to see if you need a quick hug, set alarms on his phone for between classes

Goes off on anyone who calls you clingy or needy

Will go completely feral on Mineta if he tries to use your touch starvation as an excuse to be a pervert

Always down for cuddle sessions in either of your rooms

As long as you two are alone, Katsuki will scoop you onto his lap on your bad days and WILL NOT let you go until you feel better

Lowkey discovers he loves cuddling you and will slowly integrate it into every moment you two are alone

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CUDDLES?!” - proceeds to hide his face against your neck for half an hour as he melts into you to relax for the day

Kirishima Eijiro

Constantly checking in with you once he finds out, because it’s manly to

Does a little research, often worries that he’s not doing enough to help

Takes everything at a pace you’re comfortable with, always encouraging and sweet

Likes to have a hand on you if he’s nearby, little rubs on your back or holding your hand, especially likes when you hold onto his arm

If you both don’t have anything to do, won’t spike his hair up for extra cuddling softness

Loves when you play with his hair on those days, will rest his head in your lap and move your hands back to his scalp if you get nervous about seeming needy

Asks you for homework help and slowly pulls you into his lap while you explain things to him

The cuddle sessions you two have start helping him with his self-worth and confidence issues as well

Will be more open about his self doubts during your cuddle sessions, squeezes you extra tight when he needs reassurance

Is ecstatic if he sees the contact and cuddling improving your mood and focus during class

It boosts his ego and makes him feel even more manly

Will get you one of those cheesy small trophies for Best Cuddler

“This is the best part of my day, you know!”

Hanta Sero

Notices after a hard day just how clingy you are

“Hey, anything going on you wanna talk about?”

Listens intently and asks questions about touch starvation, also does research

Rubs your back gently and talks sweetly to you through your first time cuddling if your emotions run wild from being overwhelmed by so much contact; will let you go in an instant if it’s too much

Pays extra attention to your tells for when you need a little affection, wraps your wrist with his tape and pulls you over for some hugs or quick kisses

Always has a hand around your waste, or on your booty if no one will see (if you let him)

Not afraid of PDA, will wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist while waiting in line or just hanging out with friends

Mummified Mineta if he gets within a mile of you with those creepy ravioli sized baby fists

Loves laying down on top of you while you watch movies, finds the warmth soothing and knows it helps

Likes to cook with you since he’s so health-conscious, bumps hips with you whenever he’s near you in the kitchen since his hands are busy

Will kiss the top of your head, even if you’re taller than him. Will ask you to bend down so he can do it or will sneak attack you while you’re on the couch.

Gets a lot better at aiming his tape so he can fetch things for the two of you while you cuddle, uses it as an excuse to get more close cuddles

“Don’t blame me, it’s for training!”

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou had an idea of what touch starvation was, if he was honest he was a bit touch starved as well

Isn’t the most comforting if you get overwhelmed the first time you try and cuddle or hug, will follow your lead on how much you can handle

Isn’t a fan of PDA, would rather not have other people around when he gives you cuddle-like affection unless they’re good friends

Will rest a hand on your back if you’re particularly needy on any given day, or lean against you a bit until you two can get away from prying eyes

Like Sero, Shinsou will wrap you in his capture weapon and pull you over if you’re getting too stressed to hold you tight

Lets you link pinkies with him or hold his hand if you’re out, will squeeze your hand if your grip loosens even a little, refuses to admit he actually really likes the contact

Once you’re more comfortable with cuddling, grumpily drops his head against you and holds you close when he’s extra tired and will melt into you touches and practically purr if you play with his hair

Starts to fall asleep on you a lot after training sessions instead of his bed if he hasn’t been able to cuddle you much

Is impossible to push off because he’s a solid hunk of muscle

Not that you’d complain about an hour and a half of constant contact, but you really gotta pee sometimes, yknow?

May end up crying during some of the first long cuddle sessions, gets overwhelmed by the feeling of safety and belonging

Hides his face against your shoulder to hide the tears and muffle any sobs, holds you tight like you might disappear

“I’ve never felt anything like this…thank you.”

#Bakugou katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #Hanta Sero x reader #Sero x reader #Shinsou Hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader

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sooghostwriter · 5 years

Text

Chef Soo. Three meals a day

Pairings: Do Kyung Soo x OC (Nameless, but I refuse to use Y/N)

Genre: Romance, AU (?), fluff, slow burn (?), crazy story, a tiny tiny bit of angst.

Dinner: Chicken Stew

The sample and the buyer

She was one of those young millionaires. She had just won her first million after opening her startup with her business partner. She always dressed well, not in high heels or two-piece suits, but she owned a Gucci backpack, and his friend Jongin said it was very expensive. She also had a very expensive smartwatch and phone. But those were the only rich person thing she had. She was sweet, down to earth, funny, and very polite. She visited his small restaurant when she got her first big deal and haven't stopped coming there since then. Almost every day of the week. By herself or with her coworkers. She never ordered anything, she only told him "Give me whatever you want, I trust you" The first time she did that, he almost had a breakdown. That was way too much responsibility. It amused him that she kept doing it after becoming a regular client. Kyung Soo never asked her why she did that, he didn't have the guts. After a couple of months of serving her whatever she wanted he began cooking especially for her. He knew she liked spicy food, so he prepared a special batch from that day’s menu and added wasabi to it. He realized he liked her when he began cooking just for her. A single portion, a dish that didn't figure on that day’s menu. Maybe a dish that he wanted to try out, or maybe that day there was an especially big abalone at the market so he would buy it and cook it especially for her. One day he almost got caught. She and another two coworkers came for dinner. They asked for that day’s vegetarian menu, and she only smiled at him. She didn't have to voice her wish anymore. That day he cooked her a portion of homemade ravioli. Then another coworker arrived and asked for her dish. He panicked for a while until he found the perfect excuse "That was the last portion, sorry" That was the only close call. In general, their relationship was very business-like. They spoke on first-name basis though, but nothing more.

---

She was walking down the street with Junmyeon, looking for the best place to celebrate their first big deal with the biggest app developer of the country. They passed by several bars, but they needed more than a beer. She stopped in front of a small entry with a small but elegant sign that said, Chicken Stew. There was a nice sent coming from inside the place and it looked cozy. The thermometer outside was marking some good 2 degrees, so they got inside without thinking too much about it. Inside there was an open kitchen and some tables scattered around the place. The place was really warm, decorated with simple pieces but very assertively. There were some tables free, one of them just in front of the kitchen. She dragged Junmyeon to that table and sat down feeling excited. She wanted to celebrate with her friend and colleague but also enjoy some good food. That night they settled for a bottle of good wine and two portions of Chicken Stew. They had a small but delicious menu available at night but they settled for the Chicken Stew because it was the recommendation of the Chef, Kyung Soo.

--- Chicken Stew was Kyung Soo’s baby. At a young age, he had decided to become a chef. Not only because he wanted to cook, or because he enjoyed following recipes or coming up with his owns. He wanted to be a chef because he liked giving people food. Not only for their compliments. Watching a person sigh in happiness with the first spoon full of food, bringing spoon after spoon to their mouths too quick for their well-being was what filled him with pride. He saw his job as an art, although it could sound a little bit too full of himself it felt like art. But opening his own restaurant was an odyssey. No bank trusted a young chef. Rent was expensive and the price of kitchen supplies was only reasonable if that industrial kitchen was made of gold. It was impossible for him to open his restaurant with his savings and the money his dad could borrow him. He was about to take a job on a cruise, just so he could save money, when a friend gave him an idea. It was a new thing that had arrived in Korea, but it was already well known and popular around the world. Sperm banks. “My sister and her husband bought a sample from them, since they were having issues conceiving” His friend told him “Of course it is super secretive and all, the pay is super good, you should try it” And he did. Taking advantage of his privilege as a man. Because getting a sample wasn’t that hard, he had been getting samples since he was fourteen. The nice nurse gave him paperwork to sign, his check and a number and also made a very nice comment about his appearance and how healthy he was and how popular those kinds of samples were “Your sperm could be useful for you someday, so save this number, is the number of your sample” 1313. What a coincidence, it was the number of the place he wanted to rent, and it was perfect for his restaurant. So that morning after leaving the clinic, he went straight to the real state agency and put the deposit for his soon to be restaurant and then called his friend Jongin offering him a job.

--- Since she was a teenager, she had two dreams. Being her own boss and become a young mom. She always hated having someone telling her what to do, like everybody. And growing up with parents like hers, specifically a mother like hers, she always believed that becoming a mom before turning 30, a young mom, was the way to go. But to do that she had to become the boss first. It happened before she had planned it. She was 27 when she and Junmyeon got their first check for more money she could have ever imagine. As she put her signature on the contract she kept repeating to herself that today was day one of the quests of becoming a mom. When they entered Chicken Stew and she saw the cute chef behind the counter she thought to herself: I bet he could make some cute babies.

--- It was very amusing to her how she never considered a man on this plan of becoming a mother. In a beginning she did. But every boyfriend was a disappointment. A one-night stand could do the job, and yes she could get pregnant, but also she could get a nasty STD. She considered inviting Junmyeon into the project. And she was sure he would help her. But she felt kind of shitty offering him to be a silent partner when she knew how much he craved to have a family in the future. But he gave her an idea that she could only expect from a businessman like him “In-vitro” He said as he was munching his dessert. It was lunchtime and they were seated at the back of 'Chicken Stew'. She had already finished her fettuccini Alfredo that Kyung Soo served her and skipped dessert because she was already full “I don’t know why you haven’t thought about it already, it’s way more expensive than meeting a guy in a bar but safer” “I never planned any of this with a partner actually, if there was one, good, but if there isn’t, good too” “You don’t want to wait a little bit though? Maybe Kyung Soo grows a pair and invites you dinner one of these days” She chuckled bitterly “Bold of you to assume that I don’t see this as a dinner invitation” She gestured to the empty plate “It’s not” “It is! He cooked for me!” Her friend rolled his eyes and patted her hand condescending “Don’t do that, he is going to think we are together!” “No he won’t, I came here with a date the other day” He distracted her for a couple of minutes so he could tell her about this date, but once Jongin came to ask them if they needed something else, Junmyeon came back to the previous discussion “Look, I know that this relationship thing is not your thing, I’ve known you for years, when we were in high school I thought you were a lesbian, then I thought you were asexual until the first year of uni when you got your first boyfriend, that didn’t end up well…my point is that is not often that I see you showing interest in another human being…but also, you can’t stop your life from moving forward just to wait for a significant other” “This is all very cute, but where are you going with this” He cleaned his mouth, organizing his ideas because he was also a bit lost “My point is…I take back what I said before, get pregnant and pursue Kyung Soo, or don’t, just live your life, and if you want to become a mom right now, do it, I will support you” “I really want to be a mom” He saw her sparkling eyes “I know, you have been saying that since we were kids, so go ahead and do it, also, I know I’m your only friend so yes, I will go with you to the doctor if you need me” She thanked him, although she already knew that. When her friend left the restaurant, she stayed there looking on her computer for fertility clinics. There weren’t that many, but they all had a very good reputation. She was about to call one of the clinics when Kyung Soo interrupted her “Your friend already paid, I don’t want to bother you, but I’m about to close to prepare for dinner, but you can stay If you want” She looked around the place and noticed that she was the only one left “I’m so sorry I was so focused looking at…at something here I didn’t notice, I will be going” Kyung Soo put one hand on her shoulder stopping her from standing up, cleaning his other hand in his apron nervously “Don’t worry, you are free to stay, really is nothing, I’m going to be back there working, you can stay” “I don’t need to go to the office and I really enjoy being here, so If I’m not bothering you…I think I will stay” He didn’t answer, only smiled at her and walked back to the kitchen. She kept looking at him from her table. She always did that when she went there for lunch, especially when she was there with a big group, in that way no one would notice it. She liked how focused he was. How organized he was. During these months of eating regularly at the 'Chicken Stew' she was able to visit the kitchen twice, and she was always taken away by how clean it was, even after lunchtime. Kyung Soo was a clean man. She liked that. Also, the food was unparallel. All the flavors merged perfectly. She was sure she had tried every single dish it was there to offer and they were all amazing. Several times she went to fancy restaurants with potential business partners and the food was never as good as Kyung Soo’s food. Kyung Soo was an amazing chef. She liked that. But going to the 'Chicken Stew' was also a great experience in terms of social interaction. One time when the place was packed with people she shared a table with a man who looked a bit under the weather to say the least. His appearance wasn’t the best. One of her co-workers asked him what was going on and he opened to these three strangers “I’m pretty much homeless now, I have been leaving in a net café for two weeks now, and the little money I have I use it to pay for that place, Kyung Soo met me in a very bad situation and brought me here for food, I have been eating here for three days, I have tried to pay and he stopped me from doing so, he gave me this look…you better follow what he says” He finished with a merry laugh. Then she heard several stories like that. A high schooler who went there to eat three days a week ended up being a hard-working kid with really crappy parents. An old couple that went there every Friday were two retired who sometimes had to choose between food or medicine. All of them eating for free thanks to Kyung Soo. He was a remarkable man. She loved that. She kept looking at him as he was chopping tomatoes. There was a peace around him. She barely knew him, but she was sure Kyung Soo was an easy-going guy, trustful, competent and caring. She wanted to know him and see if she was right. She wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice. Ask what his favorite food was. Why did he become a chef? Why Chicken Stew? She had so many questions. And Kyung Soo was right there, probably feeling observed by her. She stood up and walked to the kitchen counter, knocking at the steal surface as if it was a door. He looked up fighting a smile and asked if she needed something. She asked him if they could talk. Kyung Soo felt a rush of something taking over. He knew she was coming, he hoped so after feeling observed by her for so long. He thought she wanted something else to eat, maybe the portion of Crème Brule she didn’t eat at lunch. He wasn’t expecting her to ask him to talk. He wasn’t expecting the questions. The need to know about him. He wasn’t expecting her laughs and interest. He wasn’t expecting how relaxed he felt answering her questions. He wasn’t expecting how easily he asked back. He wasn’t expecting to realize that she was maybe interested in him.

After that Kyung Soo was a little bit more open about his feelings. One time he cooked a chicken and tomatoes stew just for her and when her coworkers asked if they could have the same, he answered with the truth. He cooked that just for her, it was a personal portion. Everybody went silent and when he met her eyes, she was smiling fondly at him. He noticed once that her hair was getting on her way and she complained to her lunch mates about forgetting to bring something to hold it. And it happened often. She always found a way to fix it, a headkerchief or pencil. One day as he went with Jongin to buy something for his niece he found a cute hair tie with a cute chick on it. He bought it, ignoring Jongin when he asked him for who it was. The next day, when he brought her plate, he left the hair tie next to it. Thank god that day she came to eat by herself. He didn’t have the guts to do that with an audience. He walked away quickly and didn’t come back to her table. But a couple of minutes later Jongin came to him with a silly smile, raising a cheeky eyebrow “So the cute chick was for her?...You are so romantic…just so you know, she is wearing it” He lifted his head quickly, and saw her slurping her ramen noodles, with her hair high in a ponytail with the yellow hair tie bright on her head.

--- One Monday she didn’t come for lunch. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday passed and she didn’t come. When Friday came she asked her coworkers what happened to her. They said she was abroad because of work. Two weeks passed. He was missing her. Sighing around the restaurant, feeling weird without cooking that extra dish just for her. Jongin began to worry, bringing him his favorite coffee or taking him out during the weekends. But he was still feeling down. He missed hearing her laugh and the way she would mess with her co-workers. It was way too soon to feel lovesick. But that was exactly how he was feeling. The chick hair tie was next to the cash register waiting for its owner. Then one Friday night she arrived with Junmyeon. He had one arm around her shoulders and she looked like she had just cried. They sat at a table in front of the kitchen counter and in between sobbing she laughed happily to something he said. Kyung Soo felt a whirlpool of emotions. He was so happy to finally see her after so long. But he imagined a friendly comeback. An exchange of polite words and then he would bring her some food. But now he didn’t know what was going on. She was crying but she didn’t look sad. Her friend was beyond happy and laughed at her when she broke into tears again. And when he made eye contact with Kyung Soo, he waved at him, asking him to come closer. He felt insanely awkward standing in front of them, it was impossible to read the atmosphere there “Is everything ok?” He asked unable to hid how worried he was “Kyung Soo, everything is ok, more than ok, we came to celebrate, my friend here” His voice broke with a bit of emotion “My friend here just had a pregnancy test at the bathroom of our office and she is pregnant” She heard her squeal, hiding her face on her hands and then looked up at him. She looked so beautiful. Her face was covered in tears, yes. But she was happy. So happy he could almost see a bright shine surrounding her “You are pregnant?” He asked, not sure why. He was happy to see her so happy, but a dark sadness settled on his stomach. You need two to be pregnant. He didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Or maybe it was Junmyeon’s. “Could you bring us a bottle of champagne to celebrate? Oh, you can’t drink…well, Kyung Soo and I can drink you drink some water” Kyung Soo moved in autopilot to the kitchen and brought a bottle and champagne and one of water and three glasses to their table. Junmyeon opened said bottle and served the drinks. He was as happy as his friend, which made the theory of him being the father even more plausible. He felt like biting his head off. She grabbed her glass, took a deep breath and made a toast “This is for me, my child and his or her father…sample 1313” Kyung Soo dropped his glass to the floor. He felt their stares on him and despite knowing that he had to move he just couldn’t. 1313 was a number he was very conscious about. How much coincidence could be involved in this entire situation? Did she purchase his sample? He was brought back to life by Junmyeon patting his shoulder nervously “I guess our friend is as surprised as us…Kyung Soo are you ok?” “Yeah, yes, yes, I’m ok, Congratulations” His hand was numb, still in the air and his glass in the floor spilling wine on his black shoes. Jongin came quickly to help him clean and thanks to that he came out of his stupor. He was hating himself violently now. He made a fool of himself. There was no way he could explain this behavior. A reaction like out of a soap opera. She said she was pregnant, and he dropped his glass of wine. This was ridiculous “Sis, you said sample? What do you mean?” His beloved Jongin came to the rescue and their focus changed from him to Jongin “Oh, well you see, I really wanted to be a mom, since I’m a little girl, and I want to be a mom now that I have money and a good job and I’m young, but I lost hope in men, no offense, and I don’t have the energy to try right now, so I went to a fertility clinic and I got inseminated” Kyung Soo felt like fading. Cold sweat ran down his neck and back, there was no way this world was so small that the woman he liked got inseminated with his sample. No way. There was absolutely no way. Life couldn’t be this…bizzare. “Sis, and your sample is number 1313? As the number of our restaurant?” She looked at Junmyeon nervously looking for help “That is a huge coincidence right?” He tried to help with something that was believable “It was a good sample” She commented with almost a whisper. This sample talking was making her very uncomfortable, especially with these friends by proxy. Jongin smiled at her and took a long step, reaching for her with his arms, hugging her “I’m very happy for you sis, I hope you have a beautiful and healthy child” She hugged him back because his bear hug was too good not to answer it. Kyung Soo was outraged. Not because his best friend was hugging the woman he liked. He was shocked because now he had to hug her too. It would be awful if he just stood there. And there is no such thing as a congratulatory handshake to someone who announced her pregnancy, which will also disarm him. Jongin let go of her, holding to her hand patting it caringly and turned around sending him a wink. He was going to chop him to pieces later. Kyung Soo dried his hands on his apron and went to hug her. He didn’t know how it looked for the rest, but for him, it was an amazing hug. There were approximately two steps separating them. She took one and he followed. She raised her arms to his shoulders and he went for her waist, circling his arms around her pulling her softly against him. She rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed contently. Her hair tickled his nose, making him smile. He took a deep breath and said what he really wanted to say “I’m very happy for you, you should do want you want, and I’m glad one of your dreams is coming true” He rubbed her back and his head was shouting at him that the hug was long enough, but she wasn’t letting him go. So he didn’t either “Thank you Kyung Soo” She said, patting his back and cuddling deeper in his arms. She opened her eyes and saw Jongin exchanging stares with Junmyeon. They were both holding their laughs and being all giddy, Jongin clapping his hands silently and Junmyeon covering his mouth with both hands. Just then she realized what was she doing. She really didn’t want to let him go. He felt so warm and solid between her arms. He smelled amazing, a mixture of his perfume and the smells of his kitchen. His arms were strong but held her tenderly. His chest vibrated against hers when he spoke, and his words resonated on her ears. His voice sounded different, and the tone of his words was new to her. He sounded happy, yes, but there was a melancholy behind them. She didn’t want to let him go. And when she felt him move she could only tight her embrace. Could she start blaming the pregnancy for this? Pregnant women were…emotional, right? Her friend and Jongin kept sharing silly smiles and her long-time friend began making signals to cut it, mouthing “enough, enough” She jerked, waking up from her dreamy moment and let go of him, sliding her hands down her shoulders and arms. He held to her hands like Jongin did and sputtered “I hope you have a peaceful and healthy pregnancy too” “We can help you with that, right chef? Bring us what the nutritionist recommends and he will cook it for you” Jongin assured sweetly. She thanked him but made sure to take pressure away from him. Kyung Soo didn’t let her finish “I would be glad to help you with that” She smiled delighted, feeling a bit guilty, but not surprised by his words. That was the kind of man he was “Ok, can we eat now? I’m very hungry and we have to celebrate” “Jongin and I were about to close the kitchen, but we have some food left, we will prepare something fast and bring it to you” “Thank you, you two should join us” Jongin was about to answer, thrilled with the idea, but he stopped him by pinching his waist “We need to clean and prepare some things for tomorrow, but thank you for the invitation” He grabbed Jongin’s upper arm and pulled him to the kitchen “Hyung, hyung! What are you doing?” He complained on their way to the kitchen. He pulled him to the cleaning station that was away from the eating area and stood in front of him with his hands on his hips “Do you hate me? Do you want me dead?” “No, no, why are you asking me that?” “Why did you do that?!” Jongin was frowning in confusion, and he knew that he didn’t do anything wrong, he was just a warm person, but he needed to blame someone now and vent a little bit “Why did you hug her?” Jongin’s face changed from confusion to understanding and a mocking grin took over his face “No, is not what you are thinking” Kyung Soo predicted “Since you hugged her I had to hug her too!” “So?” “So?! You know how I feel about her, that was the hardest thing I had to do, hug her and let…and let her go, and then you offered myself to cook for her” “Hyung, I was doing you a favor there, you were considering doing that anyway weren’t you?” Kyung Soo snarled and walked past him into the kitchen. He couldn’t stand another word from Jongin. He was too right. And it annoyed him. The night was cold and he was especially tired that day. Jongin’s steps were longer than his in their way to the flat they shared. He liked it like that, it gave him a bit of privacy. He was feeling like crap. On one side he was thrilled for her pregnancy. Because if she was happy he was too. He was sad she didn’t wait for him. But what saddened and terrified him the most was the possibility that sample 1313 was his sample. He felt guilty for not telling her, but also selfish because why did she need to know, the whole thing of going for the insemination was keeping this between her and her child. No man in between. He was terrified of the future, what if she began bringing her child to the restaurant, what was he going to do? And he couldn’t avoid feeling happy, he wasn't bothered by the idea of having a kid with her. There were way too many emotions swimming around his head and chest, he felt like crying “Kyung Soo, Do you care if she is pregnant?” Jongin asked stopping on his steps, but not turning around “Jongin” He called his friend, almost in tears. Jongin turned around alarmed “What? what is it? Don’t be sad hyung” His friend was pouting, rubbing Kyung Soo’s shoulders. Kyung Soo felt great relief when he could finally share what was hunting him “Jongin, I think that baby is mine” Jongin’s eyes went as big and round as the moon that night. After talking with his friend Kyung Soo went to his bed not bothering with taking a shower. The energy to be a functional human just wasn’t there. He lied in bed for hours thinking about her. About her happy tears and her warm hug. How he didn’t know too much about her but his feelings were still strong. He hadn’t exchanged a lot of words with her, but he has seen her through the eyes of the people around her. Her co-workers would talk about her a lot during lunch when she wasn’t there. Only words of care and admiration. About her tolerance, how open she was to share her time and knowledge, how good she was putting down small fires, but they never saw her raise her voice or being disrespectful. He also knew about her strength. How brave she was. How formidable she was. A woman who is successful before her thirties and just goes for what she wants, like becoming a single mother, for example, is a woman who behaves like no one. She doesn’t care what others can think. He always liked women like that. He never wanted to be a prince. He wanted to be a comrade in arms.

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With all the commotion from last night, with her telling Kyung Soo and Jongin about her pregnancy, then hugging Kyung Soo for what felt like an hour and still, it wasn’t enough and then celebrating with her friend, she forgot a very important thing. She was only one month pregnant, and she wished to keep this as a secret until the three-month barrier. She went for lunch with almost all her workers and she was afraid that Jongin or Kyung Soo could make a comment, so she dashed to the front of the kitchen and found them mumbling in a corner, Jongin appeared to be comforting Kyung Soo. She called them so she could talk to them. They both looked at her with wide eyes and Jongin was the only one who could compose himself and come to her “Good afternoon! What is it sis?” She bowed at them and spoke in a hurry “You guys are the only ones who know about my pregnancy, could you keep it a secret from everyone please”

“Yes, of course, don’t worry, are you ok?” “Never been better, thank you” Jongin smiled at her warmly “Is he ok?” She whispered as she saw Kyung Soo walk out of the kitchen “Yes, I mean, he is very tired, but just that, you know business owner and suppliers, paying bills…is very hard, but he will manage, thank you for worrying” She was very worried indeed. She didn’t know Kyung Soo was having a hard time. It was stupid of her not to think that it was hard. He just never showed it. He always looked so stoic that someone could easily forget what he was going through. During lunch she tried to talk to him, but he was busy serving. He didn’t meet her eyes either.

She convinced Junmyeon to go to Chicken Stew for dinner “I was planning on going to the gym” “Why? What could you do at the gym? You are already in shape” He rolled his eyes at her and decided to come with her, he never once said no to her. Neither she “You wanna go see Kyung Soo?” “He was so weird today, he looked distressed and didn’t talk to me once, he was avoiding me” “You think you freaked him out with that hug you gave him” No. No, she didn’t. But know that her friend said it, she felt panic crippling up her back “Oh god, I fucked it up, didn’t I?” His friend was quick to calm her down “No, I was just kidding, he was super into the hug, ask Jongin, you both disconnected from this world, come on, you must have felt it” Her nose crinkled, smiling coyly “I did, you think he likes me” “Ok, let’s stop there, what if it is true, he likes you…so, what are you going to do?” “What should I do?” He looked at her frowning “Friking confess you idiot, or better, wait until you are 8 months pregnant and you can go rolling to his restaurant and ask him for a date” She kicked his shin and when he crunched down to rub the place where she hit him, she slapped his head “I’m being serious! Don’t mess with me!�� “I’m not! Confess, what’s the worst thing that could happen uh?” “I feel like the stats are not on my side right now, I could wait a bit more” Junmyeon was going to answer back when his phone buzzed. His cheeks went rose with a smile as he picked up. She knew that face. She was about to go for dinner by herself “Is the girl from the other day?” She inquired with her hands on her hips, he nodded his cheeks still glowing “Ok, go, but if this is serious you better introduce her to me quickly, I don’t want jealous girlfriends” He hugged her quickly and walked away telling her to text him when she gets home. She kept walking, with the intention of still going to Chicken Stew, but her plans changed when she arrived at the restaurant. Through the big window, she could see that the place was full. There was a seat available in the counter in front of the kitchen, but something else stopped her from going inside. Kyung Soo. He was very busy attending tables and serving the dishes. She didn’t want to bother him with conversation. And if he was still tired or in a bad mood, she didn’t want to annoy him. But in reality, it wasn’t just about him. She didn’t want to see him ignoring her and being so weirdly cold towards her like that afternoon. It affected her more than she dared to recognize.

She made sure to go with company every time she went for lunch. In that way, she was busy with work talk rather than looking at Kyung Soo. Winding her head with ways to talk to him about more than what was she going to eat or if she wanted coffee or tea. She wanted to ask him how he was doing. She could ask Jongin, they were close enough to do that. But he was busy all the time. It was Friday, and at lunchtime, she asked Jongin what was the menu for dinner “We are not opening at night today, hyung as something to do at the kitchen” It was clear that Jongin didn’t know how to lie. He was too pure for that. But she acted as she believed him. Curiosity was killing her. She wanted to know why he was lying. That day she left work late. She had a ton of codding to do and she hated doing that at home. Especially now that pregnancy was begging to affect her energy. The office was for working and her house was for sleeping. If she was lucky she was going to be able to catch the last bus. She still had an hour left so she walked to the stop slowly, enjoying the autumn wind. When she passed by 'Chicken Stew' she noticed that the lights of the kitchen were on. She looked inside but couldn’t see anyone and the front door was closed. She walked around the building and found the back door slightly ajar. There was a murmur like music coming from the inside and a low voice singing along. The words sounded a bit slurred but the voice was beautiful. It was clear that no one had broke in to steal anything. She opened the door slowly and let herself in. This was her first time in his kitchen and it was incredibly intimidating. She walked slowly, deeper into the kitchen, looking around, her eyes and ears very aware of her surroundings. She called his name once but no one answered. The voice was still singing. She tried again and this time the music went off and so did the beautiful voice. Someone called her name. It was Kyung Soo. She walked around one of the kitchen counters and found him seating in the floor with an empty bottle of wine next to him and a couple of beer cans. His eyes told her something for sure. He was drunk. He called her name again and followed with a smile “You are here” He said entertained “How are you?” “Better than you I think, Kyung Soo…are you ok?” He shook his head and released a long breath “I’m not ok, I’m not ok at all” She kneeled down next to him, not sure of what to do or say, but at least she could give him some company in his drunkness “Are you having problmes?” “Yes, a huge one” “Can I help you with it?” He shook his head again, looking at his hands “Is there anything I can do to help you? She insisted and waited a bit for his answer. He went silent, but his breathing and the way his shoulders moved told her that he was crying. She didn’t want to intrude so she just waited for him “There is something you can do…please don’t hate me” “Why would I hate you?” Her hand reached for his shoulder rubbing it “Because I’m…I just…I feel horrible, I shouldn’t tell you but at the same time, I can’t keep quiet, no when I imagine a future with you every night before I go to sleep, no when I can only imagine all the things that I want to cook for you and only for you” He was whimpering, cleaning his tears with clumsy hands. She didn’t know what to say, she was frozen in the spot. She couldn’t believe her ears. He was confesing. Drunk and between tears “Kyung Soo, why are you like this? What is this thing you want to tell me?” “You are pregnant, and you decided to get inseminated for a reason…and I understand, I really do, we are useless, women don’t need us to raise their kids, and if you were another woman I would just keep quite, but I like you and I want to be with you but…I can’t be with you with this secret, this lie hunting me” There was no logical answer in her head to what was going on right now. Her brain was split between trying to understand what had him so sad, process the fact that he said he liked her and what was this secret “Before you say anything let’s sober up a little bit ok? I don’t care what you have to say to me, if you say it drunk you are going to regret it and it could be harder for me to understand, stand up and let me give you some water and a cup of coffee” She tried to lift him holding his arm but he pulled away from her “I’m so sorry, forgive me please” “Kyung Soo, please come with me and sober up so we can talk ok?” “Your baby” He began and a part of her reacted like a lion feeling attacked. Why was he talking about her baby? “Your child, you wanted to do this by yourself, you went to a clinic and you bought a sample, but this damn fucking world is so small…you had to go and buy from the bank where I sold my sperm right? 1313…why did you have to choose that sample? Tell me, why did you?” “I just liked the description of the donor and…it’s the number of your restaurant” He cursed under his breath, chuckling humorlessly “Yes, it is, the sample 1313 was mine” “Kyung Soo…” “I checked, I thought it could be a huge coincidence, but is not, I’m sample 1313, I’m so sorry” She stood up. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. This was too messed up. Kyung Soo hid his face on his hands, still sobbing. She didn’t have anything to do there. There was nothing they could do or say now. He was too drunk, and she was too shocked. She walked away, feeling horribly bad to leave him there like that, but she was incapable of doing anything, for him or for her. On her way out she ran into Jongin. They didn’t exchange a word, it wasn’t necessary. He got it immediately. She was thankful that Kyung Soo wasn’t going to be alone.

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Only a few times before Kyung Soo felt so helpless. This was probably the third time he got this drunk. First time when he broke up with his first girlfriend, the second time when his restaurant almost goes bankrupt and now this. The worst thing was that drunkenness never took his memories away. So he remembered everything that happened that night at his kitchen. Her worry, his bitter tears, every word he said, her face of horror and the sound of her heels walking away. He felt his chest torn apart when she left. Jongin came to his rescue, but what else could he do. There weren’t enough words of support, who could know how to act in this situation when it was such a bizarre one?

As he suspected, the next week she didn’t come to the restaurant. He waited for her at lunch and dinner but she didn’t appear. He wasn’t planning on going out of the kitchen if she actually went there, but just knowing that she was eating was enough. Only her coworkers came. Junmyeon didn’t appear either. Jongin asked what happened to their coworkers and they told him he was very busy and their other boss was sick. That was the worst answer they could give him. Was she really sick? If so, how sick? Was the pregnancy? Or what he told her stressed her and was now affecting her pregnancy? The worry kept getting into his nerves to the point that he had to throw away a whole pot of pure because he used sugar instead of salt.

After a week of anguish, Junmyeon appeared at lunchtime. He was about to close and there was only one portion left, hers. He greeted him warmly and sat at the kitchen counter “Sorry for coming too late” He told him, but he wasn’t only talking about the closing time “Don’t worry, I have a portion of Chicken Stew for you” “Perfect” Junmyeon waited for his plate and noticed Kyung Soo moving around nervously. He knew what happened that night in the kitchen. She called him first thing in the morning to tell him. It was a situation he couldn’t quite understand. But he did understand how weird and complicated it was. He wasn’t a cruel man. He wasn’t going to wait for his question, he knew how hard could be for him to ask “She has a lot of morning sickness everything she eats gives her nausea so I told her to stay at home” Kyung Soo left his plate on front of him and rested his hands on the counter, letting his head fall. He looked tired, but his shoulders looked relaxed, just a tiny bit. He turned around without saying a word and began washing rice and asked Jongin to peel some veggies. He was cooking for her. Junmyeon felt relieved all of a sudden. He wasn’t sure why he just thought about what a great man he was. Before he was done with his lunch, Kyung Soo had already packed a big portion of rice porridge and steamed vegetables “Could you send her this?” “Sure, I’m going to visit her today, but can we talk?” Kyung Soo sat in front of him, he already knew what he wanted to talk about. He knew Junmyeon was to her what Jongin was for him. He probably knew everything “She told me about the sample thing” “It’s that why she isn't coming?” “Part of it” He decided to be honest with him. He knew his friend and he needed some help “I can’t believe I told her that during those circumstances” “There are things you can’t say sober” He smiled, trying to make him feel better, and Kyung Soo smiled back, but it was clear he was just being polite “How is she?” “Very confused as you must be” “Is she coming back? Is she going to come here again to have lunch?” If his friend didn’t marry Kyung Soo someday, he was willing to do so. He deserved everything anyone could give him “Of course, yes, just give her some time, you use this time too so you can both decide what to do” “Yes, ok…just, could you tell her…I don’t know what I want to tell her” “Don’t say anything, I will give her the food and then when you are both ready you can talk” He didn’t know where all this maturity came from, but he could see Kyung Soo was feeling better, and maybe latter his friend would feel better too “Yes, that’s the best thing to do, thank you” “Don’t worry, and Kyung Soo, this doesn’t have to be too complicated ok? It wasn’t even an accident, it was just destiny” He felt unbelievable thankful for Junmyeon’s words. The least he could do was giving him that meal for free.

---

The next week she didn’t appear either. But this time Junmyeon made sure to tell him that she was better, but the doctor recommended full rest for some signs of miscarriage. Kyung Soo panicked. Jongin held his arm just in case “She is fine, don’t worry, the doctor said it was common, she would be able to come to work next week, please don’t worry, are you ok?” Kyung Soo sat down next to him rubbing his legs and fumbling with his fingers “That caught me unprepared” “I’m being honest Kyung Soo, she is fine now and the baby too, she is just being extra careful” “It’s just…I realized something just now” “Great, that’s good, what did you realize?” He looked at him and Junmyeon knew that this was the line he couldn’t cross. This wasn’t his business anymore. He took back is question. Kyung Soo wasn’t able to sleep well that Sunday. He knew on Monday she will be back at work and back at his restaurant. This was one of those situations where he really wanted to see her but was terrified to do it. He informed Jongin that he wasn’t going to open the restaurant for dinner time. He gave him his silent support and went back to work. The rush hour at lunchtime passed and she didn’t appear. Neither her coworkers so maybe there was something going on at the office. 30 minutes before closing time, they appeared. Junmyeon, the other coworkers and at the tail of the group, her. Jongin helped them put together two tables so they could all sit together and as he did so she walked to the kitchen counter rubbing her hands together and bowing at him. He looked over her shoulder and saw Junmyeon and Jongin standing together looking at them as if they were watching a suspense movie “How are you feeling?” He asked “I’m better now, Junmyeon told me you are aware of what was happening to me, were you worried?” Her voice was soft, filled with uncertainty as if she didn’t know how to talk to him “I was so worried…could we…could we met today so we can talk?” “Yes, sure, of course, I…when? Where?” “Come here when you are done with your work…could you?” “Yes, of course, I will be here around seven” Kyung Soo felt happy for the first time in weeks. Of course, he was still terrified but he could tell she wasn’t mad at him or distant. Her coworkers called her, so she bowed at him and went to heir table. They didn’t talk again after that.

She was punctual, she counted the seconds until it was time to meet him. She didn’t know what would come out from this. She was sure of what she wanted though. A solution for all this. Kyung Soo was waiting for her in front of the restaurant. This was the first time she saw him wearing street clothes. As expected, it was very simple. Dark jeans and a sweater. Stylish sneakers and his signature glasses. He looked very handsome. They greeted politely and Kyung Soo invited her to a coffee a couple of blocks down the streets. He made sure she was comfortable with walking “Is not as terrible as Junmyeon told you” She tried to give him some peace “I had some pain and a bit of bleeding, I went to the doctor immediately and they gave me medicine and whatnots, I spend two days in the hospital just so the baby could be safe and then at was back at home, is very common” “You must have been very scared” How could he know? She made sure to speak nonchalantly, trying to hide how badly that memory made her feel. She was very scared indeed, she was terrified of losing her child “Yes, I was, but I’m ok now, don’t worry” They walked in silence to the coffee shop and Kyung Soo guided her to a private booth. He thought the couch was better to seat down that a wood chair and it was way warmer there. They asked for two cups of tea nothing to eat, she was afraid food could give her nausea and ruin this moment. The cups arrived and the silence was about to swallow them both. Kyung Soo decided to act like an adult, speak with the truth and be honest, especially to himself “I’m so sorry for what happened” “For what are you apologizing? the sample mishap or the drunkenness” She ended with a smile, an honest smile from ear to ear. He giggled and rubbed his neck still embarrassed but not scared anymore “Because let me tell you, you shouldn’t apologize for neither of them” “I shouldn’t have said that drunk, it was so disrespectful” “Thanks to that bottle of wine you opened up to me sooner” She wasn’t wrong “And I prefer it like that…about the sample, it was a coincidence” “Would you have preferred for me to shut up about it” “No, no, I would have hated that, you were right, if we think about a future together, there can’t be a secret like that between us…I don’t think you would have been able to live peacefully holding that to yourself” Kyung Soo felt something like a wrecking ball hitting his stomach “You think about that future too?” She didn’t notice she was recognizing her feelings, she should have prepared for this talk in advance “I do…I like you too, I like you a lot…but the future that worries me right now is the one I’m going to live in 7 months” “I understand that” “Is not that you are not a priority or less important, but…our circumstances right now are complicated” Kyung Soo lowered his stare, looking at his hands organizing what he wanted to say. He wanted to be very clear “I like you too, you already know that, but there are two things between us, the love we feel for each other, and your child and I don’t want to say our child because that would be incredibly rude, I was never part of this equation, as you said, it was a mishap, but that doesn’t take the fact that…I can’t even say it because is not my place, but I want you to know that I would follow whatever decision you make because I’m ready for all the possibilities” “If I tell you that I want you to be the father and take your place in this equation, would you do it?” “Yes” They weight of his answer felt heavy on her chest “I had my doubts before, but when Junmyeon told me about the miscarriage symptoms…I feared for your child” He was still refusing to use the word our. She took her time before saying something. She believed him, but it felt rushed. She wasn’t yet clear with her desition and she was the mother. Kyung Soo couldn't be clearer either. It was so unfair for him. Of course, he would take his place of a father because he was the best human out there, but she always felt like motherhood was natural and fatherhood was a bit of an imposition. It sounded messed up, but that’s how she felt growing up “I don’t want you to make that decision just yet…this is not the optimal circumstance, you just needed the money, I wanted a child, we are in extreme opposites, so I don’t want you to feel forced to do this just because is what your values dictate to you” He made the intent to interrupted her but she stopped him “And I know that you could be driven by your feelings, but is still too soon, we are not even dating” He swallowed thickly. Deep down he felt like this wasn’t going the way he hoped for “As for us…I don’t think is fair for you to date me now” “why would you say that?” She chuckled bitterly “Because I’m pregnant Kyung Soo, the me you will encounter now is different, my mood is going to be weird as hell, my body will change, and I’m not going to be able to give you all my attention” He called her name sweetly “I’m not a child that wants your constant attention” “We don't know that” She joked and they finally laughed together, after a long time of tension “But I understand you…I said this before, it’s your decision “ “If we don’t date, would you still be there, I feel selfish asking you to wait for me…but would you wait for me?” “I was going to do it even if you didn’t ask for it” She felt all shy and giddy, he was so sweet and so good with his words. She felt like lying on the floor and rolling around “How much do you want me involved?” He asked with a tiny bit of confidence “As much as you feel comfortable” “That’s a very open answer” “Is the one I can give you now” Kyung Soo reached across the table and held her hand “Let’s not take more decision for now and let’s see with time, maybe you don’t want me at all or maybe you want my constant company” “Kyung Soo, that’s unfair” She felt like she was using him “It’s not, I’m comfortable like that too, I don’t want to force myself into you…but I have confidence that we will make it through” He squeezed her hand and she put her other hand on top of his “I hope you don’t think I’m not sure about my feeling for you, because I am, especially now, I just think…” “You are being careful, I can understand that…I’m just glad you are not pushing me away” “I’m glad too” The tea went cold as they kept holding hands, talking and trying to reassure each other feelings. She wanted to stay there longer, but he insisted that it was too late, and she needed to go home and rest. She didn’t resist, she liked how he cared for her. The third month passed by and her doctor told her that she was risk-free now. The symptoms weren’t as terrible as before. The nausea went away. But her digestive system was a mess. She never commented this to Kyung Soo, but it was clear that he had made some research because now he was cooking exclusively for her and the menu was fourth month of pregnancy friendly. Her constipation was almost under control and heartburn was a story from the past. One day she thanked him for it and his only answer was “I know how to take care of you” She played his words over her head for the rest of the week. It wasn’t as horrible as she thought it would be. Junmyeon’s new girlfriend was a gift from heaven. She took her out to buy new underwear since her boobs refused to settle in her old bras and would call her asking if she needed girl help wish was code for, help with anything that could make Junmyeon uncomfortable. She thanked every day for the teacher that sat them together in middle school which was the spark that developed their friendship. He was the brother she never had and the support she needed these days. She was so glad that his girlfriend understood their dynamics. Kyung Soo had nothing to envy from her childhood friend. They met during lunch and dinner, and he always took the time to talk to her and he never treated her like a sick person. Not like some of her coworkers. He just wanted to know if she needed something, what the doctor said and how she was feeling. She felt very tired all the time, and there were mornings that she just couldn’t get up. The changes in her blood flow made her feel dizzy most mornings. During those days she would work from home and every time at lunchtime a deliver guy will bring her food. A taste of the food told her that it was Kyung Soo’s. It began with him sending him lunch to her house whenever she didn’t go to work. But then, lunch began arriving at her office. She let it happen twice until she had a talk with him “Why did you do that?” He was chopping carrots as they were talking at the kitchen “Doctor said you shouldn't walk too much” “That's true, but is like a five-minute walk from my office to here and I use the elevator, I think stairs are my real enemies” “There are stairs over there” he pointed at the street were in fact she had to walk down three steps. She rolled her eyes following him around the kitchen “If I can make your life easier…” “And I'm thankful, but maybe... I want to come here to see you” He came to a sudden halt and she collided with him. He grabbed her by her arms just in case “Oh... You do?” “Yeah” He looked down at his hands holding her and let her go. She liked how he touched her and helped her out of reflex “Ok, sorry” “Don't apologize, I really really appreciate it, but for now is not really necessary, maybe when I go with maternity leave” He held his hand up, waiting for a handshake “Deal, but at least can I invite you lunch?” “No way Kyung Soo” “Come on!” She rested her hands on her hips and Kyung Soo could already recognize that as a sign that there was no place for debate “I can pay for my food, I would rather you invite that plate of food to someone who really needs it, like you have been doing so far” His eyebrows showed his surprise “How do you know about that?” “It was a secret?” “No, but it isn’t common knowledge either” “I spoke with several people who have been eating here for free, is one of the reasons I like you” Since that serious talk at the coffee shop, they never addressed their feeling again. It was both embarrassing and a bit unnecessary for now. Her confession there was a slip of the tongue. She didn’t regret it though. She knew her confession could make him happy. His bright smile told her so “I wanted to own my business so I could do that” He confessed, walking away from her, a bit shy. She followed him again, eager to know more about it. That afternoon she stayed with him as he prepared something for tomorrow's lunch. That afternoon he confessed that he has been cooking especially for her since they met. She wanted to stand up and kiss him, but she got dizzy again.

---

It was killing her not knowing if she was having a boy or a girl. It didn’t dictate what things she bought in terms of clothing or toys, but she wanted to imagine her child. Start dreaming about the exciting future with her or him. Her next visit to the doctor would be the one that would tell her. She was finally in her 5th month. Her tummy was bigger now, her pants were already a bit uncomfortable so she began using dresses and skirts. She began feeling little butterflies in her stomach, in a beginning she thought it was because of Kyung Soo, but she read somewhere that it was the baby moving. The symptoms weren’t too terrible, the dizziness was the only thing left. And she finally had big girl boobs. Her new bras were no good anymore. Yes, they hurt a bit, but she had a cleavage now. She took the day off that day. More like Junmyeon forbid her from going to work so she could have a calm day and then they could celebrate if he was going to have a niece or nephew.

--- Kyung Soo woke up from a horrible nightmare with his heart in his throat. In the dream, he saw her and her child inside a glass case. He could see them but they didn’t see him. She was holding her child, but she didn’t look happy. She looked distressed and tired. The baby was sleeping but suddenly jolted in her arms and began crying. She did her best to stop her child from crying, but nothing happened. The baby was turning red and the sound was louder and louder. He wanted to help them. He felt that he could calm the baby. He wanted to take her child in his arms just so she could rest for a little bit, but he couldn’t touch them. He began banging the glass, looking for an opening but the more he hit, the thicker became the glass. He woke up with the sound of his alarm. He couldn’t stop thinking about the dream for the rest of the morning. He was outside his restaurant talking with the guys who brought him the vegetables for the week when Junmyeon walked to him, just to say hi, he was on his way to their office. He immediately asked for her, no shame “I told her not to come to work today, she as a doctor appointment at 10:00” That was in two hours “Ok, then I should send it to her house” “Don’t worry, she normally eats out when she has a checkup…oh! She is very excited because today she will know if it is a girl or a boy” He told him as he walked away in a hurry. Kyung Soo felt for the first time like he needed to be there. He wanted to be there. Of course, it had to do with the nightmare he had that night, but if the dream was a premonitory one, it was clear the glass walls represented himself. He was the one building them and staying away when in reality he wanted to be there. He wanted to know if they were having a girl or a boy. That was the first time he allowed himself to think about an us. He kept repeating to himself that If she needed him, he would go to her. He didn’t even have her personal number, just her secretary’s. Jongin hated that “Hyung, that’s so stupid, I have your number and we are not in love nor I’m expecting your baby, but we are friends, that’s why I have your number saved” He knew his friend was right, but the more he controlled himself, the more comfortable he felt. So he didn’t ask for her number. And she didn’t give it to him. In fact, he got the number of her office from a business card she gave him when she went to Chicken Stew for the first time. But now he wanted to talk to her, he wanted to go to her. He needed to do so. But his stupid self-control was too strong, so he went inside the kitchen ready to start cooking for that day's lunch. Jongin arrived a couple of minutes later merry as always “I met with sis at the subway, she was on her way to the doctor, hyung! Did you know? Today they are going to tell her the sex of the baby, she looked so happy! Although I was wondering, is it safe for her to use the subway?” He was too focused on Jongin’s words to notice that his hand was too close to the skillet, the burn in the palm of his hand woke him up from his long-time delusion that he didn’t need to be there. Instead of applying cold to his hand he took off his apron and began giving instructions to a very confused Jongin “Put everything in the freezer, make sure everything is off and close the restaurant for the day” “Where are you going?” “To see her” he shouted over his shoulder as he walked out the back door. He reached the main street and panicked for a second. What to do now? He had no idea where her doctor was, what her number was. He knew where she lived but it was too late. Her office. Junmyeon could help him. This wasn’t his first time there, so he walked inside Junmyeon’s office quickly, not caring about manners. He didn’t even greet him “I need her number?” “Fucking finally” Junmyeon chuckled a bit exasperated, scribbling the 9 numbers he knew by memory. He gave him the piece of paper and said nothing else, only wished him good luck. On his way out he called her, feeling his heartbeat on his throat. She picked up, her voice doubtful and when he identified himself, she went silent. So he didn’t lose more time. He asked her where she was, she said she was at the bank. She also told him what he already knew. She didn’t comment about what was going to happen in that appointment, but he could hear the excitement in her voice “Can I go with you?” He asked, making sure his voice sounded sure and decided. She didn’t answer immediately which took away some of the confidence he was trying to develop “Are you sure? You don't need to do this” “I do, I need to, May I go?” She chuckled in disbelief “I will love it” Kyung Soo released the breath he was holding, and almost felt like his knees would give up. She wanted him there “I will meet you at the hospital ok?” He stopped a taxi and told the driver the address she had just gave him over the phone.

She sat at the waiting room close to the entrance so Kyung Soo could spot her easily. It wasn’t too crowded, but it helped her with her anxiety. Ten minutes after she arrived, Kyung Soo appeared at the entrance, looking at his phone. He was probably going to call her so she called him instead. He lifted his head confused and when he saw her his smile gave her so much happiness and made her felt so relieved that she had to stand up and met him halfway “Why did you get up? Come here” He locked arms with her and walked her to a line of seats that was empty. She was terrified of uncomfortable silence so she made sure to act normal, as normal as this whole situation can be “How did you get my number?” “I went to your office, and your friend gave it to me” He answered avoiding her eyes looking around with curiosity. She had so many questions. Why the sudden change? Why that day and not yesterday or tomorrow? She was afraid of asking and when she did, her voice was low and shaky “Why are you here Kyung Soo?” He finally looked at her, he was as nervous as she was, but in his eyes, she could see determination “I came because I want to tell you that I want to be here” He grabbed her hand softly, something he hadn’t done since that day they confessed, and they both craved madly “I need to be here, May I accompany you from now on, I know you can and will do all this by yourself, but I can’t” His voice loose strength by the end of the sentence, she didn’t want him to lose confidence or braveness regarding them, so she lain closer to him and kiss him on his cheek, and held there for a while giving him some warmth, clasping his hand harder. She heard him hold his breath for a second and then relax into her. She moved apart a couple of centimeters and whispered a thank you. She had a lot more to say, but this wasn’t the moment. The waiting room of a hospital wasn’t the place either. He looked bemused, but a smile was pulling the corner of his lips “That means I can stay right?” “I really want you to stay” “Great…um…when is your appointment” She looked at her watch, not letting go of his hand “In 30 minutes” “We arrived quite early…are you nervous?” She only nodded, her stare lost ahead. This was something she couldn’t get use to. The fear before every doctor's appointment. She always feared that her doctor would tell her something terrible about her baby. But in the past, her fear showed through locking herself in the bathroom with nausea or dizziness, breathing in and out just to try to calm herself down. She always went by herself. She began this by herself and was planning on finishing it like that. She never complained about the tiny panic attack she got before every appointment. And obviously she didn’t even dare to imagine Kyung Soo giving her company during those times. She should have suspected that his presence would bring some peace. She was still scared, but not terrified. His hand holding hers was warm, soft and it kept her distracted from whatever fear was dancing around her head. Maybe if she was closer he could take away all of the fears. So she moved closer to him resting her head on his shoulder. She thought it could catch him by surprise but on the contrary, he arranged his body so she could rest her head comfortably “Kyung Soo, Why did you call it Chicken Stew?” She needed a distraction for the next thirty minutes, and Kyung Soo was always a great one “Several reasons, it was the first dish I learned how to cook, it’s also my brother’s favorite, all my friends say it’s my best dish and is a dish that is always delicious” “Like your restaurant” “I hope that's the case” She lifted her head, resting her chin on his shoulder “It is, your food is amazing” He thanked her, scratching the back of his ear nervously “You think the baby will be a chef?” Since he was here, wishing to be part of this, they could start thinking about their kid “I doubt it, I don't think babies can cook, but in the future, who knows” That was what she needed, an explosive laugh, an almost howl that made breathing hard for her, harder than normally “You liked that one?” He asked giggling through his nose “That was so funny, I imagined a baby with your cool apron and a knife” She had to cover her mouth not to bother the other people in the waiting room “My apron is cool?” Not cool, sexy, she thought but kept it to herself.

Her doctor congratulated her on her healthy gain weight and for the good numbers on her exams. She asked all the questions related to her symptoms and then invited her to lay in the bed so they could use the ultrasound “Doctor, before we start, can I go and call my…friend that’s waiting outside” She gave her a signal to go ahead and she opened the door nervously. She asked Kyung Soo to wait for her until she would call him. The conversations between her and her doctor were always way too graphic and she didn’t want Kyung Soo to hear them. But the ultrasound part was different. She wanted him there. He was standing with his hands on his pockets, some tension in his shoulders that could easily translate as nervousness. She called his name softly and he turned around, and with quick steps got inside the doctor's office. He greeted the doctor extremely politely and she invited him to sit next to her. As the doctor prepared her things, she reached for Kyung Soo wrist but he held her hand instead “Are you nervous?” He asked her again, but she was sure he was the only one nervous here. And with good reason, this was going to be the first time seeing their child. She said she was nervous, and asked him back “I think I’m going to fade, I’m so nervous” They laughed together and for the first time she felt completely relaxed at the doctor’s office. “Is he your partner?” The doctor asked as she poured the cold gel in her tummy “No, but he is the father of the baby” The doctor turned to Kyung Soo with a bright smile “Oh, then congratulations father of the baby... Although I thought this was an insemination... “ She stopped her so she wouldn’t ruin the moment “It's a long story” From now on that was the sentence he would use whenever someone asked what was her relationship with Kyung Soo “And we don't have a lot of time, I’m glad he is here, let's get to business” The doctor commented and held the probe against her skin. They both held their breaths until the doctor could get a clear image of the baby “So, we always say, it’s a boy if we see turtle and a girl if we see three lines, and in this case” She elongated the last sound as the image of their baby became clearer “We got three lines, you are having a girl” She began pressing buttons on the machine. And gave them some time to take it in. She looked at Kyung Soo but he didn’t meet her eyes. His eyes were stuck on the screen in front of him as the image of their baby kept moving on the screen. Now the image was clearer, head, hands, legs and arms, you could almost see her profile. She saw herself on him, in awe with what was happening. She was sure that for him now everything was clearer. It was like that for her. The moment she saw her baby for the first time was the moment she realized that she had made the right choice. He was probably feeling the same “Her size is right, organs on point, amniotic fluid and placenta are great, that’s all we have for now, a very healthy girl, is that what you were hoping for?” She always said that she would be happy with either, but deep down, or maybe not that deep, she hoped for a girl “Yes, actually, I wanted a girl” “Great! then what about the father, are you happy?” Kyung Soo had his eyes still stuck on the screen and when he spoke, his voice was soft and a bit shaky “She is perfect, our…our daughter is perfect” The doctor chuckled and looked at both of them with care “They all say that, and guess what? They are right” Eventually the doctor had to turn off the ultrasound, not without showing Kyung Soo what they were seeing, what was every shade and shape. When they were back to her desk, he was in a state of elation, to say the least “So, everything is great, let's keep some precautions, no stairs or excessive exercise, the baby is great, but this is the first one and inseminations require extra care, keep having your calcium supplements and no sex for at least one more month Ok?” She gasped and looked around awkwardly, Kyung Soo reacted very similarly. She could imagine how funny was for the doctor to watch this insufferable awkward couple “Oh, so is not that kind of friendship, Ok, let's all move along, any questions?” They were both questionless, so they left the room quickly to avoid any more awkwardness. They were on the second floor, just one set of stairs. She was walking towards them, but Kyung Soo stopped her holding her waist, or what was left of it and turned around to the elevator. She was going to complain, it was only one set of stairs, but she preferred to enjoy being taking care of. In fact, the day was going great, having him there was amazing, better than she could have ever imagined, and going out of the hospital to part ways brought her down quite a bit “You need to go back to the restaurant?” She was determination itself, she was going to keep enjoying the rest of the day with him. She was sure the feeling in her tummy wasn’t her baby moving around her womb “No, I'm not opening today” “You wanna go for a walk?” Asking him didn’t feel as hard as she would imagine “I have a better idea, let's go on a date” Kyung Soo was trying to act cool, but she could see a slight twitch on his lips. He could be nervous or embarrassed. And she felt exactly the same. A hot rush went up her neck and settled in her cheeks. As before, she was sure it wasn’t the pregnancy. She tried to cover her cheeks with her hands, just adding more to the situation “How cute” He commented, imitating the gesture of her hands “Is my blood pressure, the pregnancy makes it weird, I'm not like this because the guy I like asked me out” “How cute!” He commented again between goofy laughs. He took one of her hands, uncovering her face and pulled her with him. He invited her for lunch to a restaurant that he really liked. She was famished and she felt like she could eat at least two dishes. When she told him that, he told her to go ahead. She really liked that. She didn’t do it, but she appreciated the support “I didn’t ask you, I’m still a bit in shock…we are having a girl, you wanted a girl?” There was some awkwardness in his question and it was understandable. She felt the same. Everything was very new and sudden, but she knew he was confident about it. He had show it “Yes, I hate to admit it, but I always imagine myself with a girl, you?” She regretted asking that, of course, Kyung Soo didn’t imagine anything, this wasn’t his plan, men don’t imagine those things. It was one of those women things “Of course the priority is health, boy or girl, if they are healthy is all that matters, but I was so, so happy when the doctor said it was a girl, the possibilities are so many with a girl” Any doubt about Kyung Soo’s intentions coming to the hospital that day was over. She didn’t know if he was there out of guilt, or just trying to do the right thing, but looking at him there in front of her, drinking his coffee with a soft smile on his lips, she knew he was doing this genuinely. She didn’t eat two plates, but she did eat a slice of cake and a chocolate chip cookie. During her pregnancy, she didn’t have a lot of cravings, but her baby really liked sugar “So she is going to be an active girl” Kyung Soo told her when she shared her food preferences with him “Oh no, I was hoping she could be like me, still as a picture, what about you? You ere a good kid right?” “My mom says I was until I went to school, but I was a good kid overall, I never got in trouble” She didn’t think otherwise “Were you a good student?” “No, I hated going to school, you?” “Same, I only liked math class, if it weren’t for Junmyeon who did all my homework and borrowed me his notes I wouldn't have made it…I was smart, but not the kind of smart schools needs” Kyung Soo tapped the table and pointed at her “That’s it! That’s it! We are all smart, but school only cares about one kind of smart, I’m glad you did well though” “We did” Kyung Soo riced his glass of wine and clinked her lemonade. She wished it was a glass of wine too. She sighed heavily drinking her last bit of juice. Kyung Soo asked her what was wrong “Remember when I told you that dating me wouldn’t be fair because the me you will encounter now is different, my mood is going to be weird as hell and all that? Well, that applies to this kind of things too, I can’t go for drinks with you and get drunk, we can’t go for walks because my feet are not dealing well with this pregnancy, we can’t go for long drives because my bladder shrunk, we can’t even kiss because I look huge!” And of course, she followed that statement by shoving the last bit of cookie in her mouth. She was half-joking, half being honest but Kyung Soo just took it seriously. Not completely though, he wasn't laughing, but an involuntary smile, maybe a shy smile, kept pulling the corner of his lips as he spoke "When I met you, you weren't pregnant and I liked you, now you are, and I still like you, with all the changes" She knew this time it wasn't the baby moving because she felt the tickles not only in her stomach, also in her chest, back and legs "It would have been perfect if you said that you liked me more now" "I like you more now " She laughed, but he didn't. She didn’t care if he was lying or if it was the truth, it felt amazing to hear that from him and that was all that mattered. Kyung Soo accepted when she offered to pay for the food but made her promise that next time he was paying. She agreed as long as there was a next one. He asked her what she wanted to do now as he held her hand, his body language always clear, the date wasn’t over yet "Since now I know we are having a girl, I feel like buying her a gender-specific something, wanna come with me? " "Really? Can I buy her something too? " "As long as you don't buy her a knife" He took a step closer to her, laughing merrily but stopped rather suddenly as if colliding with something. He stopped laughing and turned his head away. He went shy and uncomfortable all of a sudden. He didn’t let go of her hand but separated from her a little bit, not meeting her eyes until she called his name and pulled him with her to the sidewalk so they could go shopping. She didn’t understand why he acted like that. His change was sudden and caught her off guard. But it didn’t matter now. She was planning on thinking about it obsessively at night, but now she had better things to do, like keep enjoying her date. They walked a couple of street until they reached a strip mall with a baby clothing store. They got in, she was already used to go inside a baby store and buy whatever she needed. The amount of cuteness and little things didn’t shock her anymore. But for Kyung Soo, it was all new. He went straight to the girl section and his eyes moved from one side to the other, his smile a mixture between wonder and happiness. He grabbed a set of baby shoes, each shoe not bigger than a peach. He turned around and showed them to her “She is going to be this tiny?” “Hopefully not tinier than that, you like those?” He nodded looking at them in awe “I’m going to buy them for her” He pulled them closer to his chest and kept looking around the store, constantly commenting on how cute and tiny they were. She let him wander around as she picked a light pink onesie with delicate embroidered around the chest and the hospital bag to put all the things she would need for the day of the delivery. He asked why she needed such a big bag. The bag brought another issue. Now that he expressed his need to be involved, he naturally had a lot of questions regarding the birth and the previous process. Was she living by herself? By the 8th or 9th month who was going to take care of her? Who was going to take her to the hospital? Was she having a c-section or natural birth? And after that, who was going to help her? The answer to most of those questions was Junmyeon. “He and his girlfriend are planning on taking care of me, the plan is that I will move to his apartment but since he has to work, his girlfriend offered to stay with me. We have the same job, so she is planning on working from home, I think I’m going to move there in a couple of months? I don’t want to invade their space” “I wish I could offer you my place, but I live with Jongin and I work 20 hours a day” She let him know that again, she wasn’t expecting anything from him “But I have enough time now to find someone who can replace me at the restaurant after you give birth, I think I can be more useful there” That sounded so nice. So very nice. Having him there to bring her calm and help when she was going to need it the most. Because now the harder thing to do was tying her shoes and maybe find the right position to sleep. But after their child was born…that was going to be hard with capital h. But still, the idea sounded too unfair for him, before she could refuse, Kyung Soo made her stand in front of her holding to her arms “It’s not unfair for me…I want to be there, please let me be there with you” Did he just read her head? It didn’t matter how bad she could feel for him and his current accidental situation, but if he honestly wanted to be there, she couldn’t deny him that experience. And she didn’t want to say no either. She wanted to be with him. She encircled his waist and brought her cheek closer to his chest. She thanked him. Her voice low as a whisper, her happiness clogging her throat, but she knew he had heard her. He hugged her tight and she felt his lips on her head. He wasn’t kissing her, but it was still warm and scarring in the sweetest way. There was nothing else to say. He was planning to accompany her. The details could be arranged later, now they could only feel calm and confident that they were there for each other “What else do you want to do in our improvised first date? We already ate and then bought things for our daughter, What other things people do in their first dates?” Has Kyung Soo always being this funny. This was the second time that day that he made her laugh hard enough to make her tear up a little bit “I would love to do more things with you, but I’m so tired, I already walked enough, my feet are a bit swollen” He pulled away from her startled, examining her “Are you tired? Your feet hurt? Are you ok?” His wide eyes looked at her in concern but lost a bit of it when she smiled at him “I’m ok, just tired” “Then I should take you home” Her hands flew to his cheeks, caressing him “How can you always say what I need to hear?” He shrugged, looking down flustered. He was so cute. So incredibly cute. And she loved that of him. But he was also loyal, funny, smart, respectful, mature, the most selfless person she had ever met. Commit to this with her was the biggest proof of it. He stopped a taxi and helped her get inside. He gave the driver her address, and she kind of liked how he knew it by memory after sending her all those meals. The streets were already packed, red lights seamed longer. She took a deep breath preparing for the extra 30 minutes it will take them to go home. The inside of the taxi was warm, the driver was playing some nice jazz and the seats were soft, it was perfect for her tired body. She scooched to Kyung Soo's side and rested her head on his shoulder "Too tired?" He asked with a smile on his mouth "Yes, it was a very exciting day" "We have a long way to your place, rest" He arranged his body so she could rest more comfortably and grabbed her right hand, resting them on his thigh. His warmth sept into her being and comforted her "Kyung Soo keep talking, your voice relaxes me" She knew this could put him in the spot, and she also knew he wasn’t very talkative. But she didn’t need a Ted Talk. A simple description of his last visit to her parent's house, or what he saw on TV would do it. But he gave her more than she expected. He called her by her name all the time. Each question escorted by his voice muttering her name in a unique way. Sweet and familiar. As if he had christened you with it so he knew how to use it. She didn't fall asleep, to interested in Kyung Soo's stories, but her entire body felt energized by his presence and peace. He called her name again and vacillated for a moment before asking her “You think it’s gonna work out between you and me?” “I think it will, what we have is rather young, but I have trust in me and especially in you, why you ask?” He twisted his body to her side so he could cuddle her closer “It’s just…you are ones and zeros and I am fat and salt” “You mean we are different” He nodded “I’m ok with that, but what is really worrying you” She tried to move to look at him, but he stopped her, maybe he wanted a bit of privacy to express his worries “As you said, what we have is young, but there is a lot in the middle, not only our daughter but also how we reach this point, I feel like if this didn’t work it would hurt me so badly…so I wanted some reassurance from you, some extra hope” She wanted to turn around and kiss him, hug him, kiss his face and hug him again, he wanted to give him that hope. But he wasn’t done yet, his grip kept enabling her from moving “My feelings for you came so suddenly and with so much force, I pinned for you for so long, and maybe the way our relationship developed was not normal, but that doesn’t change anything about how I feel for you…I’m so sorry that I’m saying this here, but I guess the closeness gave me some braveness” “Don’t worry…Kyung Soo, If you are determinate to do this with me and at the same time love me and take me as your partner I’m into this too, for what I heard, we have walked the same path, at the same time…I also fell for you hard, and pinned for a while too…my only sin was to rush into doing this, if I have waited a little bit things could have developed normally” He chuckled next to her, agreeing with her, but not shaming her “I wonder…what if the sample I purchased had belonged to another man?...” He was quick to answer “Nothing would have changed, we would be here, In the same place, coming back home after finding out we were having a girl” It felt like a miracle. That moment felt like a miracle. Finding him wasn’t something that could happen as an accident. Someone or something for some reason considered that she was worthy of someone like Kyung Soo and put his restaurant on her path, and made her set her eyes on his folder at the fertility clinic. Nothing could be a coincidence. It was a miracle. She released his hand and passed her arms around his waist hugging him tightly. She was afraid of speaking, she might cry and turn this into a very cheesy movie. So, she only hugged him, she knew it was enough. As she predicted, it took them almost an hour to arrive home. She wasn’t tired any more thanks to the very fulfilling trip. The driver wished them a good night and good luck with the birth of her baby. It was very nice how everybody was somehow nicer with you when you were pregnant. They got inside the building holding hands, she was a bit cold so he made sure to bring her inside quickly. They kept chatting on the elevator, a part of her head a bit nervous about having Kyung Soo in her house, but calm. Kyung Soo looked relaxed, so that spread to her. She opened the door and Kyung Soo held it open so they could go inside. She tried to kick her shoes off but her laces were a bit too tight and crunching down to untie them was a bit of a shore “I will help you” He got down in one knee and undid the double knots of her shoes. He did it quickly and she stood in the step of the entrance waiting for him to get rid of his own shoes. She stared at the top of his head and her chest felt this yearning that was hard to understand or control. It was suffocating “Kyung Soo?” He hummed his response, leaving his shoes next to hers, feeling at home “Before, when we were outside the restaurant, were you going to kiss me?” She felt a bit guilty for attacking like that, but his face was kind of priceless. Like a kid who was caught stealing candy. She waited for him until he could look at her “I wanted to, but I thought it wasn't the right time” She imagined that much, the way he stopped himself was very clear “What about now? Is the right time?” She did her best to sound flirty, playful so he could relax, so he could see that these kinds of things don’t need that much thinking. And it worked because he laughed and looked up at her “It... I think... It is” Perfectly synchronized, as she moved her arms to his shoulders, he passed his around her waist. She liked the position, she was a bit taller since she was standing on the doorstep so he could look at his face perfectly, the right angle. His adoring gaze and an amused grin. There was a bit of nervousness, but how not to. She was sure she was looking at him with the exact same eyes. She tangled her fingers in her short hair, pulling him closer as she leaned down. She felt goosebumps over her skin when his breath fanned her lips. Her heavy eyelids closed when she finally felt his soft lips against hers. She lost the ability to breathe for a moment, not only for the shock but also because she focused on his kiss. She engrossed herself on his kiss so she could enjoy it and remember it for the years to come. If he could describe the kiss, she would describe it as Kyung Soo. It was just the kind of kiss she would expect from a man like him. It was paced, but deep. His lips warm, soft and enchanting. He was also playful, nibbling her lower lip and tugging it sensuously, as his hands slid up her back pulling her as closely as he could. It was new, but it felt safe. It was just like him. He kissed her slowly, making it last. The kiss was short but it felt longer. His eyes opened up slowly, looking up at her. They shined like she had never seen before and pulled her in. She followed them and kissed him again, just pecking them a couple of times. It made him smile and that was all she wanted. He was so close to her. Her hands moved to his nape caressing him, making him sight in contempt and then she framed his face, caressing his cheeks that felt warmer all of the sudden, maybe for feeling observed so closely by her “I was waiting for that” She whispered, caressing the corner of his lips “But I’m glad we waited for it” “We do everything backward uh? First I got you pregnant, then I kissed you” She snorted embarrassingly, making him laugh too “Should we get married tomorrow and then date?” He asked, and she only laughed. He tucked himself tighter, resting his head on her chest and she cradled him naturally between her arms, caressing his head “How can I get so lucky? although you might not feel the same, this was never your plan” She commented, although it was more like thinking out loud. She wasn’t expecting an answer “It wasn't, but I feel lucky too, I feel very lucky” She took a deep breath, the emotion clinging to her throat. She thanked him with a string of voice and he looked up at her, thanking her too. About 15 minutes had passed and they were still at the threshold, so she invited him in, holding his hands and pulling him in. She showed him around her flat, especially the room of their daughter. He was very interested in watching her tiny toys and tiny clothes. They shared a cup of tea in the living room as the night came. It was almost dinner time. She was hungry already. Double hungry “Should I prepared us something? Should we order?” She offered, just trying to be a good hostess. He looked a bit displeased, not to say offended “I can cook you something” He was already walking inside the kitchen “Really?” “Yeah, really, what do you want?” She didn’t need to think too much about it “Chicken stew, I love your chicken stew” He turned around grabbing her apron and tightening around his waist “Chicken stew it is” He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her on the cheek and then for the first time rested his hands on her belly. She had felt her baby move around the entire afternoon, the normal fluttering feeling, but for the first time, she felt a kick. A deaf thud, not a jab, but close. She jumped in surprise. They both looked at her belly and then up. They didn’t say a thing, it was clear what just had happened, and she was so glad he felt it too. He moved his hands over her stomach, slowly and with much care. And it happened again. She yelped in surprise. And he laughed merrily, that cute goofy laugh she loved so much. They stayed like that, looking at her tummy for a long time. Kyung Soo was silent, but he didn’t need to say anything to show how happy and dumbfounded he was. She wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what to say. She brought his head up, holding his face with care. Between all the emotions they felt at that moment, there was one that she felt a long time ago but it was new for him, for sure. That tiny movement that felt like an explosion for her was that last proof that all this was real. And that day Kyung Soo not only had felt the baby move but also saw her daughter for the first time. He must have felt like a soup of feelings, from happiness to fear. She knew that feeling well “We can order something to eat” She offered again, thinking he could have a hard time focusing, but he shook his head with decision “No, no way, now I have to cook for the three of us” He caressed her tummy for the last time, and the baby only moved around, she could feel it but was sure that he couldn’t. He kissed her on the lips, a soft peck that could still make her blush and then turned around, opening her well-stocked fridge. He told her to go to the living room and seat on her sofa. She was sure that for at least thirty minutes Kyung Soo would be completely focused on his cooking. On making his warm, healing and delicious Chicken Stew.

-END-

Notes: Last story from the trilogy. It took me a while, you know why, so thank you for the constant support.

I saw this story somewhere before. A single mom that got inseminated meets a guy and they get married. Then her child needs a transplant or something, they make blood tests and stuff and bang! He was the real dad all along!!! That inspired this story.

Because of my career, I know a lot about the development of the fetus in the womb, but little about how the moms feel, so thank you to planned parenthood.org for all the answers.

Also, I don’t want kids.

#exosnet #kyung soo fanfic #kyung soo fanfiction #d.o fanfic #d.o fluff #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo fluff #Kyungsoo #do kyungsoo #d.o

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aphrodites-law · 5 years

Text

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (3/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2]

A week after parting ways with Niylah, a sudden sense of loneliness hit Clarke. It wasn’t that she regretted the decision, but the possibility had always been there and that in itself had been enough to avoid confronting the glaring emptiness of her apartment. Her celibacy had felt more like a choice than it did now.

Clarke knew that the vision was the main culprit for the sudden realization that she had built her dream life but had no one to share it with. Wells had Raven and his passion for theater keeping his life beautifully busy outside of the café, while Gaia had the next five years mapped out thoroughly - her own dreams soon to be achieved. They didn’t have time or space left to fill, and Clarke had fooled herself into believing the same applied to her. She had menus to think of; new coffee beans and bakes to taste test; ingredients to purchase. She had events to plan; social media accounts to update; phone calls to answer. It was a headache most of the time, but she had a long list of successes to be proud of.

It wasn’t easy to admit that she’d neglected a part of her life - that she’d never had anyone to come home to in years. Sometimes, she couldn’t even be sure she’d ever felt a fraction of what Wells felt for Raven - if she’d ever gazed at anyone with such adoration. It would happen eventually, she’d always thought. She had time for that. But the truth was that the future had already come, and Clarke was alone. Alone and no closer to understanding a vision that she wasn’t even sure she could trust anymore.

It was a gloomy thought for a gloomy evening. Clarke enjoyed her plate of homemade ravioli nonetheless, a Saturday treat for an otherwise dull week. She had expected it with so many logistics to deal with before the café’s upcoming 3-day event, but it didn’t help that time had seemed to slow to a crawl. It was pointless to deny the source of her disappointment though:

Lexa hadn’t showed. Not even once for a croissant or an early morning espresso. Clarke had secretly hoped she would, unable to stop thinking about their brief encounter at the party. Something had changed and she couldn’t shake the feeling that Lexa knew it too. Which only made her absence more nerve-racking. Clarke had taken to reading the Gazette again, scrolling down the app mindlessly during breaks. She'd caught Lexa's name a few days ago and read her most recent articles, unable to stop herself once she'd given into her curiosity.

Her most engrossing story had been a special report on the Mountain Men, a group of people who had lived in isolation in the Costial mountain chain for a hundred years. They were a very particular case - their bloodline seemingly passing down a deathly allergy to the sun, or solar urticaria. Yet they had chosen to live in isolation rather than accept any aid, building their own bunker in the 1900s, a complex network of rooms and tunnels. It was only ten years ago that the last of them had finally emerged from underground, pale and weak creatures but otherwise strong willed. In her story, Lexa was remarkably descriptive yet respectful of their privacy. They lived on the outskirts of Costial now, helped by modern medicine and custom-made protective clothing, though never quite able to stand the sun regardless. Lexa had written that she'd met with them at night, and had been surprised when next she knew the sun had risen and they'd spoken for hours. The Mountain Men were neither a cult nor a mystery to solve - they were human beings who craved human contact like anyone else, only dealt with a different set of circumstances at birth.

Reading her words had given Clarke more insight into Lexa's work, but hardly anything on her as a person. And Clarke couldn't help but crave more of her.

The hope for some clarity came on Sunday morning. Clarke went to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients and a bag of quince, planning to tempt Wells into using them. He was the only person she knew that was so fond of quinces he could be bribed with them, though it could be an acquired taste.

The farmers’ market was always busy; the sort of organized chaos that Clarke lived for. She stopped at her usual stands - first the vegetables and fruit, and later the meats and cheeses. Her bags were nearly bursting when she decided to leave, having been tempted by olives and a few sachets of spices at a new stand. It seemed like a couple had cropped up in the past three weeks. Sundays were never a rush, and there was still time to head back home before the café.

Clarke stopped short when she looked toward a honey stand and noticed Lexa chatting with the vendor. She had a dark brown jacket on and a long knitted scarf wrapped twice around her neck, the only sign that she might be bothered by the chilly morning. Colder winds were starting to sweep through Costial, but Clarke didn’t mind how quickly winter was approaching. It had always been her favorite season - and it was good for business too.

With the busy activity, Clarke knew that she couldn’t stand still in the middle of the alley. On impulse, she walked toward the stand.

“Lexa. Hi.”

Lexa turned to her, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Busy market today,” Clarke said, trying to appear more casual than she felt.

Lexa looked between her and the man behind the stall. “It is. Hm. Clarke, this is Gustus. His bees make the best honey in the state.”

Gustus laughed heartily. “Flattery won’t get you a third pot.” He spoke with an accent Clarke couldn’t place, but his tone was strangely comforting.

Lexa’s ears seemed to pink, though it might’ve been from the cold.

“I’m just trying to help your business,” she countered.

“Sure, sure.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke. “Gustus was stubbornly staying on his apiary with a cardboard sign a few miles away. I convinced him to apply for a stall here.”

“A whole five feet of space,” Gustus grumbled half-jokingly.

Clarke smiled. “I know the struggle. They turned down my business partner and I a few years back.”

“What were you selling?” Gustus asked.

“Well that was the problem - nothing consistent. We wanted to do sweet and salty bakes, but we don’t grow any of the ingredients ourselves. They didn’t like that - said we ought to just open a bake shop. It worked out pretty well in the end.”

Lexa nodded, but her eyes stayed on Gustus and the stall. “Clarke owns a coffee shop,” she clarified for him. “It’s very good.”

Gustus’ expression shifted from a frown to amusement. “Very good? From you, that is high praise.”

Clarke didn’t have the time to question the statement. Lexa shouldered her full bag with a glare at him. Clarke realized then that Lexa had yet to fully look her way, let alone address her directly.

“My baker loves honey cakes,” Clarke brought up, trying not to worry. She hadn’t done anything to warrant a cold shoulder... had she? “I’ve been trying to get him to switch from his usual brand - and honestly it would be much easier for me than trekking to the East bank.”

Gustus brightened and wrapped a pot in newspaper. “Try it. See if he likes it.”

Clarke took out her wallet, but he declined.

Lexa scowled. “That’s not how you turn a profit, Gus.”

He scratched his long beard. “But it is how you cultivate interest and loyalty.”

When a couple arrived at the stall, Clarke moved to the side and Gus excused himself to answer their questions. Now stood much closer to Lexa, Clarke felt the need to fill the silence.

“How was your week?” She asked.

Lexa’s whole body seemed to tense. “Busy. Yours?”

“Long.” She bit her lip. “I read your piece on the Mountain Men. Crazy story.”

Lexa finally looked at her, as if suddenly jolted. “You did?” She sounded surprised, but there was a spark in her eyes.

Clarke nodded. “I’d heard about them obviously, but I’d never realized some of the family still lived near Costial.”

“They keep to themselves.”

“But you got them to open up.”

“It’s my profession. Besides, I’ve found that few people can actually stand to die with their secrets. Eventually we yearn to be heard.”

Clarke’s heart raced under Lexa’s gaze. There didn’t seem to be an in-between with her - she either didn’t look her way at all or stared at her like she might undress her. Though Clarke was aware her reading of Lexa’s expressions was likely very skewed.

“I don’t believe that,” she replied. “We all have stories we’d be happy to bury forever.”

“Maybe I'm just too boring a person to have any," Lexa said quietly. She didn't expand on it and Clarke suddenly felt like she couldn't hold her stare any longer.

“I should get going,” she said.

“Did you drive here?”

“I did.”

“I’m that way too.”

“Oh okay,” Clarke replied, though Lexa had already started walking after a quick wave at Gustus.

Clarke fell into step beside her. “I’ve never seen you at the market before,” she said.

Lexa shook her head. “I usually just come in the last thirty minutes.”

“When they’re more amenable to haggling - smart.”

Clarke swore she saw the ghost of a smile on Lexa’s face, but she was well-aware she couldn't just keep staring at her profile for much longer. She glanced at the top of her bag. “Margie’s brie is really good.”

Lexa let out a little hum of agreement. "Her blue cheese is even better.”

As they passed the parking lot, Clarke threw caution to the wind. She had to at least try to understand the walking enigma by her side.

"So... last year we had an open mic weekend to drum up some publicity for the café. Friday to Sunday. We’re doing it again next week."

"Starting a tradition?" Lexa asked.

"Hoping to. People can sign up in person or through our website and perform some original stuff. We've already got a decent list.”

"That's a great idea."

Clarke tried not to think too much about her erratic heart. "It should be a fun time if you wanted to drop by; get inspired…"

Clarke herself had gotten an itch to be creative after last year's event. Being surrounded by aspiring musicians and comedians had reminded her just how much she needed her own art as an outlet for stress. She'd put her drawings to the side for the café but picking up a pencil again had felt like coming home. She figured Lexa, who had seemed quite comfortable surrounded by comedians the night of the play, might feel the same way about such a setting.

But her reaction was odd. She stopped with her brow furrowed. "Inspired?" She asked.

"To write?"

Lexa’s body immediately stiffened, almost like she was upset. "I see. I'll try to find the time."

"Great," Clarke said in relief, choosing not to worry too much about her interpretation of Lexa’s reaction. It was clear by now she couldn’t read her very well. "I'll put a slice of cake on the side for you."

Lexa shook her head. "You don't need to bribe me, Clarke.”

Clarke frowned. "I wa-"

Lexa looked at her watch. "I should get going. I'm interviewing someone in an hour."

"Have you found any patterns yet?" Clarke couldn't help but wonder, though the question was also a poor attempt to speak to Lexa longer.

Lexa glanced up at her, her eyes lighter than Clarke remembered in the glow of the morning sun. Yet it reminded Clarke of the party too - how close Lexa had been, when now it suddenly seemed like she couldn’t wait to get away.

"I guess you'll have to read the article."

And with that, Lexa was walking to her car, leaving Clarke with the distinct feeling that she wasn’t any closer to understanding her.

* * *

With the ongoing preparations over the week, Clarke barely had a second to herself. Her interaction with Niylah on Monday morning had gone well though, awkward for just a few minutes before Niylah had cracked a terrible joke about starting a band called the Rolling Scones for the open mic.

The makeshift stage arrived in two pieces early Wednesday, and with Wells, Gaia and Harper's help, Clarke was proud to say it didn't look too shabby - and definitely a step-up from last year's. Raven had come around to help them with the sound setup, a task she had essentially summed up as 'nobody touch my cables or I'll electrocute you.' And far be it from Clarke to question a professional sound engineer.

Around 5pm, with a tired back and sore arms, Clarke had again drifted toward the end of the counter and started drawing. It was a character this time - a scraggly woman atop a mountain staring out at the horizon. She'd started it after reading Lexa's article, wondering how one could stand to live hidden in the dark for so long, and what they might've felt after leaving the comfort of what they knew for complete uncertainty.

She glanced up toward Lexa's spot, trying not to think about her. It was such a strange shift - from being a regular customer to not stopping by once in two weeks.

"Hello."

Clarke dropped her pencil and walked back to the other side of the counter, smiling at the young man standing behind it.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Are you Clarke? I mean- the owner?" He asked with a slightly nervous stammer.

"Co-owner, yep."

He extended his hand. "I'm Aden Baltimore. For the Polis Gazette."

His handshake was limp, but Clarke could tell he barely even knew what to do with his body. His checkered shirt was too loose and his tie too long, like he had ransacked his father's closet. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed and he smelled strongly of cologne. Clarke guessed he was eighteen at most.

"What can I do for you, Aden?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'm here for the article? Lexa said that late afternoon was a good time."

He dug into his messenger bag, trying to find something. It looked very similar to Lexa's satchel and Clarke wondered if he was a protégé and maybe very eager to resemble his mentor.

"Here's my ID," he added, showing Clarke his Gazette badge. It was endearing, to say the least, but Clarke wasn't sure what to do with it.

"What article are you talking about?"

"To boost the mic event. Didn't you set it up with her?"

Clarke’s smile fell.

A puff piece. Lexa had sent a teenager to write a puff piece on the café. Clarke wasn't sure what was more embarrassing: that Lexa had assumed her invitation had been a request to advertize the open mic, or that she'd sent someone else to do it. It hadn’t even crossed Clarke's mind. Was that what Lexa had thought of their interaction? That it had been a means to an end?

"It'll go up tomorrow morning in This Week In Costial," Aden said, then looked around anxiously. "Did I mess up? It starts Friday, doesn't it?"

"Yes, absolutely, it does," Clarke assured him as she shook off the lingering feeling of vexation.

Aden relaxed. "Can we sit down for a few minutes? I just want to make sure my notes are legible."

Clarke glanced at Wells and Gaia in the kitchen, both laughing about something. She didn't feel much like laughing herself. But the sooner she gave Aden what he needed, the sooner she could occupy her mind with something else.

"Sure. Let's do it."

They sat at one of the center tables. Aden took out his phone, a notepad, and three different pens.

"How long have you been at the Gazette?" Clarke asked him curiously.

Aden tried the first pen on the notepad but discarded it when the ink barely came out. "I just started a few months ago. This is my first time reporting," he admitted bashfully. "I'm taking a gap year before college and wanted some real experience."

“That’s smart. How do you like it so far?”

“I love it,” he gushed, looking more like a boy at Christmas than a teen fresh out of high school. "It’s so much easier to learn through practice.”

Clarke nodded. “So you’ll be writing the piece?”

“I’ll structure the notes and work with Lexa on it. She has to approve everything I do."

"Hm. Do you like working with her?"

"Lexa's great," he said, coming out of his shell the more confident he was in the topic. Clarke couldn’t fault him for his awkwardness - everyone had to start somewhere. "We were both new at the Gazette around the same time, so she says we need to stick up for each other. I like that. Lexa doesn't care about rank, just what a person can bring to the table."

Clarke had stopped counting the ways Lexa surprised her. But in the last few weeks she had learned that the reserved, serious woman who sat in her café was one hell of a poker player, related to the owners of the Polis Hotel, and revered by a teenager. Not to mention, in all likelihood, a particularly intense lover. Clearly, Clarke still knew nothing about Lexa Woods, and it seemed like that was precisely Lexa's doing.

It stung. Clarke understood that she was only a café owner, barely a blip in Lexa's routine, if at all these days, but it was Lexa who had initiated their first conversation. Clarke had hoped it meant a step closer to being friendly. She had thought maybe Lexa just naturally kept to herself, but it seemed like everyone and their mother - quite literally, in Gaia's case - knew a side of her that Clarke wasn't privy to.

"So, what can we expect from the open mic?" Aden finally asked, forcing Clarke to sweep away any other thought.

* * *

The article was short and sweet, though one of the longer ones in the entire section that spanned three pages. Clarke had to admit the publicity wouldn't hurt, and it didn't hurt either when the Gazette also tweeted about it.

What did hurt, early on Friday, was Wells coming into the café with a grimace.

"What's up?" Clarke asked him, barely awake. Today would be a long day, but they were ready for whatever may come. Or so Clarke believed.

Wells took out a folded flyer from his pocket and slid it on the counter. "You're not going to like this."

Clarke opened the flyer, her heart dropping in her stomach when she read it: FINN'S COFFEE & BAGELS OPEN MIC EVENT. FRIDAY TO SUNDAY, 10AM TO 6PM. 50% OFF EVERY PURCHASE.

Clarke gritted her teeth. "I'm going to murder him."

Wells cringed. "I guess now's not the time to add he finalized his deal with Titus & Son to sell his bagels?"

Clarke crumpled the flyer in her hands. "No, Wells, now is not the best time."

Feeling a blind rage course through her, Clarke grabbed her coat and went out the back of the café, passing a baffled Gaia.

She walked down the street with a fury in her eyes, fully intending on finding Finn Collins wherever he might be hiding. She’d wait him out at his house if she fucking needed to. But his shop down the street was a good start - his hideous coffee shop with the large letters of his name on every available surface, even the plastic forks.

When she opened the door, it was with the force of her anger. When she walked inside, it was with clenched fists. She scanned the moderately crowded area for a pretentious suit and a cocky grin, knowing he had to be expecting her. That bastard had made sure she'd only learn about his copycat event at the last possible minute, but she’d speak her mind. Oh he was going to hear her.

Or he would have.

Clarke's resolve crumpled when she spotted the last person she'd expected to see. It felt like whiplash. There, sitting at a corner table, typing away, was Lexa. Clarke had to blink a few times to believe her own eyes, but there was no mistaking her. Whatever momentum she'd gained screeched to a halt.

And when their eyes met, when Lexa finally spotted her and stilled, equally surprised to see Clarke, it felt like time slowed. Clarke couldn't even explain why it hurt so badly to see her there, just that it did. Because of course. Of course Lexa would take her habit elsewhere. Of course she would go to the chain hell-bent on driving Clarke's business into the ground.

She hadn’t been sure what to make of Lexa's disappearance; if she was just too busy, cutting down on caffeine, or perhaps trying to save up on cash for the holidays coming up. It wasn't any of Clarke's business to know. But seeing her in Finn's shop, on the same street, typing away like she always did, drinking some green monstrosity… rational thinking flew out the window. Lexa had the sense to look away at least, though her hands didn’t move on the keyboard anymore.

Clarke couldn’t even stand the sight of her, so deeply embarrassed that she’d invited her to come over when all this time Lexa had already chosen a different establishment. Embarrassed that she'd hoped to see her at her usual spot again. Embarrassed that she even cared.

With the taste of bitter disappointment in her mouth, Clarke left without even bothering to find Finn. Her body felt numb, like the sight of Lexa had replaced her anger with ice. It felt personal and Clarke didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand how a person could seem to care one day and look away the next. Could it truly be because she had refused the interview? Was that the way Lexa did things? Stuck around for a story until she was sure there was nothing to be squeezed out? Clarke couldn’t think of another reason.

Whatever it was, she was done seeking Lexa out.

[part four]

#clexa #clarke x lexa #f: a bit of clarity #i had to cut this in two parts #the next one is a hot mess of angst let me tell you #w

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