#though... i wanna get a pan that works with me... & mess around with the batter some more. find a way to make them just a bit thicker.

[berrymeter]

most of all i wanna make it shitty breakfast so bad

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

[y4z1]

𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 | part 1

Pairing: Childhood friend Felix x reader

Genre: fluff, smut, childhood friends to lovers

Synopsis: it's a boring Saturday and you're watching stranger things, when you see your phone light up to a text message. It's Felix asking to come over and make brownies. Things escalate quickly when you decide to do a small favor for him.

Warnings: swearing, possessive felix?, 18+ content, minors dni, making out, hickeys, dirty talk kinda, manhandling?, That's pretty much it enjoy!

WC: 0.8k

PART 2 →

The sound of Dustin's voice resonated in your ears as you were rewatching the stranger things. You had several plans today but none of which you could complete due to your lazing around. But it was a boring Saturday, you were tired from work, and all motivation had left your body. You lived alone, so who was to complain?

The sight of your phone lightning up on the corner of your eye snapped you out of your thoughts. It was Felix.

You instantly picked up your phone with excitement and started tapping away at the letters on your phone.

Yongbokie🧸🌹: Heyyy

Yongbokie🧸🌹: wyd????👀

You: HIII

You: watching stranger things wbuuuu

Yongbokie🧸🌹: again?

Yongbokie🧸🌹: I was just gonna ask if u wanna make brownies with me ^v^

You: yeah sure id love to :)

You and Felix were best friends since childhood. There isnt a single memory you can recall that Felix wasn't in, he was the only person who truly understood you. He was like your other piece of the puzzle.

Getting yourself up and off the couch you excitedly rushed to the bathroom to get ready and pick out a simple outfit from your closet. You quickly threw on a skirt and an oversized hoodie. You did some light makeup, grabbed a cute bag and left.

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived. You didn't know why but you felt a little nervous. Maybe it was just because you hadn't seen Felix in a while. You pushed all feelings aside and knocked on the door.

You were instantly met with a pair of brown chocolate eyes, you would stare at them for eternity if you could.

"hi"

"hey", his deep Australian accent never failed to fluster you. He pulled you into a hug, it was like a tradition for you and Felix now, you'd hug everytime you met. But this time it felt different.

A while after catching up and gathering all the ingredients, you both decided to finally begin baking, but how could you when he's standing right in front of you. His gaze was strong, like he could seduce you with just his eyes. His lips? Cherry red, so plush and soft. Oh the urge to pull him close and kiss him—what were you thinking. You were just friends. Nothing more. Even though it hurt to admit it, you knew it was wrong to have such thoughts about your childhood friend.

You pushed any intrusive thoughts away and, finally, you started the process. You broke the chocolate into pieces. You added the chocolate and some butter into the pan and started stirring until it melted. You were about to add the sugar, eggs, vanilla and flour but Felix insisted on doing it for you. After putting the brownies in the oven. You leaned against the counter. The whole time you could sense felix's quick glances at you from the side of your eye but you didn't think much of it.

You looked at Felix as he was already staring at you. You noticed the brownie batter on the side of his mouth.

"did you eat the batter?"

He chuckled, "yeah I did"

Walking over to the tissue roll, you ripped off a corner of the tissue. His eyes burning holes in your back. You walked over to him and glided the tissue across the corner of his plush lips.

He harshly pulled both your arms and wrapped them around his neck. His right arm, snaking around your waist. "You could've used your tongue instead". You were left speechless and a blushing hot mess. You were sure by now you'd looked like a tomato. "Hm?" he purred. Both of his hands now around your waist as he slowly pushed you into the edge of the island. You let go of your arms around his neck, and he instantly caged you in, both hands on your side, pushing you into the cold marble. Your hand went up to his chest, not finding it in you to push him away— maybe a part of you wanted this. He was leaning closer and closer. He cupped your cheeks and you could feel his soft lips crash into yours. Butterflies filling your stomach-more like a zoo. You couldn't take in what was happening but you wanted more. You pulled him closer, your bodies drawing eachother in like magnets. The room was filled in light groans and sounds of pleasure. What was once a kiss, was know a make out session. Hands roaming around eachothers body.

Without breaking the kiss, he used his strong arms, lifted you up by the waist and sat you on the kitchen island. He slowly trailed kisses down to your neck. He sucked onto your soft skin, which let a quiet moan out of you.

His left hand traveled down to your heat, rubbing your clit in circles. "Fuck, your so wet" he growled in your ear.

Just when you heard the bedroom door rattle.

This was short, and I know this might not be the best but i am still new to this app so I'm still learning. this got deleted 3 times and I'm so disappointed

[satoreu]

a chilly morning is never boring

gojo x gender neutral reader, cheesy fluff

gojo satoru, a boy you once knew and the man you know today, is an extremely interesting person. if anything, he’s the most interesting person you have ever met. never once faltering to entertain you every second you two are together. every morning is a new surprise because as much of an entertainer as he is for you, you are the fuel to his life.

a chilly sunday morning was unfamiliar, as you’ve always woken up in the warm arms of satoru. getting up from the mattress you look around the room to still see no gojo in sight. you frown at the cold feeling, thinking about how much you miss your love. just then you smile only from the warm feeling of seeing a note on the bed side table saying,

i’m in the kitchen baby :)

he knows you awfully too well. but you also know him awfully too well, and your heart drops at the one word. kitchen. you nearly banned gojo one time from the kitchen because even though he just wanted to warm up a goddamn hot pocket, he thought it’d be a good idea to use cursed energy to work the microwave. it was apparently to make it “work faster.” that ended in broken microwaves, an exploded hot pocket, and the smell of smoke.

speaking of which, there came the smell again. you rushed out of bed to look for gojo and hoped to the dear gods that he wasn’t going to burn your place down. “satoru?” you yelled from the hallway, putting on a sweater as you quickly ran.

“i-i’m here…” relieved to hear that he sounded probably alright, you look to see that your beloved kitchen wasn’t alright.

smoke was emitting from the pan and you rushed up to see what was even in it. there laid a burnt, almost fully black, sad pancake. it was then you realized there was a messy bowl of weirdly thick pancake batter on the side of the counter. looking up at gojo with a blank stare, he nervously laughed.

“hehe, good morning? i was trying to make you something special.” he pokes at the (at this point not even a) pancake with the spatula. you only sigh. “i’m sorry…” he says, looking extremely dejected.

although this man can’t cook for shit, he was still your love and what pulled your heart strings the most was the thought he put into it. you come closer to him and give him a hug from behind. snuggling your face into his back, your speech became muffled.

“you know i told you i don’t want you in the kitchen, right?” you feel him go stiff and spin around to face you. and although this man is considered a god to a lot of people, he still looks at you with the sweetest eyes and most childish pout. apparently he heard pancakes were your favorite. you helped him clean up the mess and started on something new.

-

“you know baby, you can’t always cook for me.” gojo frowned while stuffing his face with the delicious food you made. “well you can’t cook at all.” you deadpanned, and he became more dejected.

“you’re so mean. i just wanted to be useful to you because when we get married and have kids you’ll also be busy and we’ll have so many children that it’d be impossible to make so much food every morning and i don’t wanna hire maids they’ll be kinda-“ you got up from your seat to hug him from behind and rest your chin on his broad shoulders. you started to wonder how much is actually going on in that head of his.

“satoru… you don’t have to worry about that. of course you’re useful to me, you protect me every second of my life. at least let my cooking be one of the ways to pay you back.” you steal a kiss on his temple, and he leans into your touch.

“then you could at least teach me how to cook.” gojo looks up at you with those pretty blue eyes you’ve never been able to resist. of course you couldn’t help it and obliged to his request.

at this point you moved to sitting comfortably on his lap with the food being long forgotten. “i love you,” he whispers delicately into your ear. you feel a slight chill down your spine not from the weather, but from his sweet voice. “i love you way more.”

“you think this is a good time to propose?” you look up at him,

“not on a day where you nearly burnt down the kitchen again.”

please reblog if you enjoyed! ^_^

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

I Got You (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is celebrating her two year anniversary with her fiance when her best friend from childhood, Jensen, calls. Something’s wrong with him and he tries to play it off once he remembers what night it is for her but the reader isn’t budging and that may be a good thing for the both of them...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, vomiting, lying, mention of alcoholism, fluff

A/N: This is a little different for me but I’m really please with how it turned out. Enjoy!

_______

“This looks delicious, babe,” said Andrew as he sat down at the table. You hummed, a little annoyed that he hadn’t let you know he’d be home two hours late. On your anniversary. Your two year anniversary. You wouldn’t mind if he ever let you know but he never, never did and always got mad when you brought it up. You poked at the food and he took a bite, making a face. “It’s a little cold.”

“Well that’s what happens when you reheat it in the microwave,” you said. He bit his tongue and continued to eat quietly, a bit of tension still in the air.

“How was your day?” he asked when he was nearly done with his food.

“Fine. Yours?” you asked, picking at your salad and ignoring the chicken.

“Good. I’m sorry I was late, babe. Why don’t we go out to eat?” he asked.

“It’s our anniversary. I wanted to make you dinner,” you said.

“I ate it,” he said. “You seem hungry still.”

“I’m fine. I just want to watch a movie or something,” you said. He didn’t say anything as he ducked into the bedroom and changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. You cleaned up the dishes and went to the bedroom. You grabbed leggings and an old big t-shirt of Jensen’s you’d stolen from his place somewhere around season 10 if you had to guess by the number just under the back collar. You padded into the bathroom and changed out of your skinny jeans and crop top. You took off the new black lingerie you had on and put on something more comfortable. Andrew wouldn’t even notice.

You walked out of the bedroom and found him on the couch, watching some action movie. You sat down in his side and saw your phone light up at the end of the couch. A glance showed it was Jensen and that you had four missed calls from him.

“Did you put my phone on silent?” you asked, reaching over for it.

“It is our anniversary,” he said.

“Yeah and I’m also one of Jensen’s emergency contacts,” you said, rolling your eyes and quickly answering. “Jay?”

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. Something was wrong. His voice was off and it took him a minute to talk again. “Can you come over? I just found out something and I could use you right now.”

“I thought you were in Toronto this week to film for The Boys,” you said.

“I was. Flew down to Dallas for my brother’s birthday earlier. More free time and all, trying to see the family more,” he said.

“What’s he want?” sighed Andrew. You ignored him and heard Jensen take a shaky breath.

“Did someone die?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he said. “No. I found out something though and...I just grabbed a rental car and drove home the past few hours. I had to get out of there.”

“Are you alright?” you asked, already hating the pit forming in your stomach. You’d known him most of your life. You didn’t remember life without him to be honest. Sure, he was away a lot when he filmed but he was back more often now that he was doing shorter gigs and you’d always been there for each other, even during the really busy years. “Buddy.”

“No, I don’t think I’m okay,” he said. He was quiet before you heard him suck in a gasp. “Fuck. It’s your anniversary. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. God, like Andrew doesn’t hate me enough already. I’m so sorry. Please enjoy your night, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re my best friend and you are so not alright,” you said. “I’m gonna come over.”

“It’s our anniversary!” said Andrew as you turned to glare at him.

“Y/N, don’t. I’m-” said Jensen as you got up.

“Where the fuck are you going?” said Andrew.

“Jensen is important to me, Andrew. He’s always gonna be important to me. I know you don’t like him but he needs me right now. You don’t even care. You didn’t care about dinner or the anniversary or putting in a little bit of effort. I used to really like you too, you know. When we got engaged though, I saw what you really wanted. Well guess what. I’m not your mother. I’m not your maid and I faked it every time,” you said.

“You’re mad at me? He’s the one ruining our anniversary!” said Andrew.

“Y/N, I’m gonna go. I’m sorry,” said Jensen before you heard him hang up. You groaned and went over to the front hall to grab your jacket. You shoved your phone in your pocket as Andrew stalked over.

“Gonna go sleep with your other boyfriend, hm?”

“Something bad happened to him and frankly, the day I introduced you to him was the day you started all this. You have hated my relationship with him from the start. He has tried so hard to be your friend and you’re always mean and you leave him out. Even your friends think it’s a dick move.”

“You want your best friend or me? Cause I don’t like him and I’m never going to,” he said. 

“I hope you treat the next girl better,” you said. You took off your ring and slammed it on the front table before grabbing your keys and tugging on your boots.

“Whore,” he mumbled.

“I’d rather be his whore than your wife any day. I’ll move my stuff out tomorrow,” you said. You slammed the door shut after yourself and took a deep breath. You weren’t as upset as you thought you’d be. You’d been considering taking a break with him for the past few months but there was no going back after that. Jensen had never been anything but kind to him and always respectful of your and Andrew’s time together.

You skipped down the stairs of the apartment building and down to the garage, rushing over to your car quickly. Something was still very wrong with Jensen and you needed to get to him asap.

“Jensen,” you said twenty minutes later, finding him outside on the balcony off his bedroom, sitting in a chair with his knees tucked to his chest. There was a half full large bottle of whiskey on the ground and the plastic wrapper from where he’d opened it. His back was to you and he turned his head away as you stepped outside. “Jay, what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. You put a hand on his forehead and forced him to look at you. He was drunk. He didn’t start drinking until he’d hung up with you obviously. He was upset too and it was so rare of you to see him cry. 

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. He let you tug him up and into his bathroom. You flipped on the light in the toilet and sat him down in front of it. “Did you eat dinner? Yes or no?”

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Did you eat on the plane? At the airport?”

He shook his head again and you sighed.

“You just did about, I don’t know, seven, eight shots on an empty stomach. You’re not a kid anymore so if Taylor Gregson’s senior party is anything to go by, I expect you to start puking in the next three minutes.”

“Go away,” he said, wiping off his face.

“Yeah, see no, not happening. I’m also staying here tonight whether you want me to or not. Now sit, throw up in the toilet please, and I will make you something bland to eat and get you some not snot covered clothes, okay?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked. He stared up at you and you instantly knelt down, giving him a hug as he hiccuped. 

“Cause you’re my best friend and I love you,” you said. “Jensen. What happened?”

“Don’t wanna…” he said, shaking his head.

“Did someone die?” you asked.

“No,” he said again. 

“What did you find out? Something with your brother? You said you were at his birthday party.”

“Later please,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said. You rubbed up and down his back and you felt him lurch a bit before you shut your eyes and felt wetness on your back. “Did you just throw up on me?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said.

“Really is like Taylor Gregson’s party all over again,” you said. “You stay here and I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I got it in your hair I think,” he said. He lurched again but you turned him towards the bowl and he was successful that time. “Ow.”

“Relax,” you said, running a clean hand through his hair for a beat. His body untensed a little but he was still upset and making a mess of himself. “Five minutes and then the shower is yours.”

You took about ten to deal with your hair and you ducked next door to his closet, finding some fresh clothes for the two of you. He managed to not get any sick on himself so after wiping his face off good and getting him to brush his teeth, he looked a little better. You found some pancake mix in the cupboard and started to work on that while he changed. He eventually came out, red eyed and sniffling a bit but he looked sober at least.

“Andrew’s gonna kill me for ruining his night,” he said.

“Andrew and I are over,” you said, waiting for the pan to heat up. Jensen stared as you shook up the jug. “He has always been an ass to you.”

“Y/N. I’m just...he’s your fiance. You’re supposed to prioritize him.”

“He’s supposed to respect people I care about. He is immature and arrogant and mean and he sucks so bad in bed. God, I’ve been dying to tell you how shitty ass of a fuck he is. The most damn selfish little prick I’ve ever met in my life and-”

“Y/N,” said Jensen. You took a deep breath and poured some batter on the pan. “You didn’t breakup cause of me, did you?”

“No. You were just the last straw. You didn’t call cause you wanted a ride or to talk about something that could be done later. You need me. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning, Christmas, my wedding day. You ever call me like that, you ever make me worry like this, I’ll be there in a fucking second,” you said. He lowered his head as you got a plate out for his dinner.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said.

“If you thought I was busy, why didn’t you call Jared? He lives three minutes away. Three,” you said. He shrugged and you sighed. “I never want to see you doing something like that ever again. I never want you to-”

“I’m not a child,” he shot back, suddenly shooting daggers at you, his face hard and green eyes a too dark shade.

“My father is an alcoholic. You want to call him up? We’ll call him up right fucking now and he’ll tell you how it nearly destroyed his life. He is twenty years sober and he can’t have a drink for the rest of his life because he used it when he was in pain. You will never, Ackles, and I mean never, drink to mask pain again in your life,” you said. The pancake was burning and you broke away your glare, dumping the burnt batter into the trash. When you walked back, Jensen was crying at the counter again and you shut your eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just...you know how my mom used to have me sleepover your house in the middle of a school week cause he was drunk and she didn’t want me to see it. You know how much it used to bother me. Little shrimpy ass Jensen, you would always tell me to sleep in your bed and you took the sleeping bag. I let you take care of me my whole life. You’re bigger than me, stronger than me. You will never worry about money again. You gave me rent money when I got laid off and refused to let me pay it back. You drove me home when I got drunk at a bar after a fight with Andrew. You stood up for me in seventh grade cause I liked science and Harrison Pitt was a dick to me back then. This is not me treating you like a child, Jensen. This is me helping my best friend because he’s in pain and I can’t stop it. All I can do is make him damn pancakes.”

“Can I have maple syrup?” he asked quietly after a few minutes. 

“Of course. I’ll get butter too,” you said. You cut up a few pieces and gave them along with the syrup to him. You made up more pancakes to reheat for breakfast, Jensen sniffling to himself as he ate. “Feel any better?”

“A little,” he said. “You were always too good for Andrew.”

“I always knew you didn’t like him,” you said. “But you tried. That’s what was important and a concept he apparently couldn’t understand. Good riddance. Oh and I kinda need a place to crash for a bit after my epic walkout.”

“I got plenty of room,” he said. He pushed his plate away when he finished and washed it up in the sink, grabbing the pan as you put away the leftovers.

“Even miserable you have far better manners,” you said with a small smile. He left the pan on the counter to dry and you wrapped your hands around his arm, leading him back to his bedroom and sitting him down. “It’s later. What happened?”

“My whole family’s been lying to me my whole life,” he said. He sat against the headboard and wiped off his nose. “My great aunt, like the super old one, she made a comment and then made a little face like I wasn’t supposed to know something. I mentioned it to my brother and he seemed coy but I knew then it was true. So I confronted my parents and...well it turns out that I’m adopted.”

“You’re what?” you said, scrunching up your face.

“Adopted. When I was an infant. They were never going to tell me,” he said.

“I don’t understand. I mean you kinda look like your dad and even your brother a bit and your sister has your nose.”

“Coincidence,” he said. “I’m a reject baby. I was given up because the couple that had me? They didn’t want me. I looked them up when I got home. Two hot shot lawyers at some big firm in New York. Three kids. Didn’t want this fuck up of one though. I was an accident. A mistake.”

“Jensen,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Jensen, you’re not...so many people get adopted. Your family loves you. You’re so much better off with who you wound up with. They adopted you because they loved you. Jensen they-”

“She used to be my mom’s friend. They adopted me because they felt sorry for me. They didn’t love me. They pitied me. They lied to me my whole life. I heard stories about when she was pregnant and the labor and they were all lies. My brother’s always known. My sister is the only one who didn’t. The whole family knew. They knew about the pathetic little baby that no one wanted the whole time,” he said.

“Hey,” you said, climbing into his lap and grabbing his arms. “You are not pathetic. I have met your parents and your family. Some nights when we were little I wanted them to be my parents. I wanted normal parents. You had the ideal family. You have the ideal family.”

“They admitted they were never going to tell me,” he said. “How fucked up is that?”

“They made a mistake in not telling you. You should have known all along,” you said, fixing the stray hairs falling over his forehead. “If I know anything though it is that they love you unconditionally. You gotta forgive them. They wanted you. You are their son and brother. They adopted you because they loved you. It sounds like your mom stopped being friends with this woman. I wonder why that was,” you said. He shut his eyes and rested his head on your chest. You shushed him as he got upset again, kissing the top of his head.

“You’re not hiding any secrets from me are you?” he asked, arms wrapped tightly around your back.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I was thirteen years old,” you said. He raised his head up and you smiled. “S’okay. I know I’m not your-”

He kissed you out of nowhere, hand cupping the back of your neck, one long, smooth motion as you felt wetness on your cheeks. He moved back slowly, dropping his hands away, swallowing thickly.

“Sorry,” he said. You smiled and moved closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you said. “Always thought I wasn’t your type.”

“You were. I was too young to understand what it was that I felt. No one’s ever felt like you. And I can’t lose you too so I played it safe. Now...I’d rather get this out of the way so I can feel miserable for the rest of my life.”

“You think our friendship is over?” you asked.

“You were engaged an hour ago and I just kissed you. Of course it’s-”

“You’re ridiculous, Ackles, I swear,” you mumbled against his lips. “Like I said, I will always be there. Now I’d love nothing more than to fulfill every teenage fantasy and adult one if I’m being fair right now. But tonight’s not the night for that. Tonight, let out whatever you’re feeling and tomorrow, we’ll talk to your folks.”

You sat back and smiled, Jensen staring at you with soft wet eyes and you remembered the little boy waiting outside school, trying not to be upset. You lay down next to him and recalled the day you met.

“Hi,” you said, the boy turning away. “Why you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he said.

“You look like you’re crying,” you said, walking around his other side. You heard a car horn honk and looked ahead to see your dad behind the wheel of the car. You looked around and saw no other other cars there, the boy wiping his face off. “Where’s your mom or dad?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They said they’d be right here after school.”

“Y/N!” called your dad.

“We’re waiting!” you said back, the boy looking at you.

“For what?” asked your dad.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Jensen Ackles,” he said quietly.

“Jensen Ackles’ parents!” you said. Your dad sighed but he just sat back in his seat and turned up the radio. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know. You got the blue backpack. All the other girls got pink ones,” he said.

“I like blue. I like pink too but I like blue more,” you said. “I like the cars on your backpack.”

“Thanks. Do you like cars?”

“Yeah,” you said. You sat down and took off your bag, pulling out a few hot wheels from the bottom of it. “Mom said I could bring them as long as I didn’t lose ‘em. Wanna play while we wait?”

“Okay,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

By the time you and Dean were being called over, the sky was a little dimmer and you saw your dad talking to a couple outside the car.

“I think I gotta go home now,” you said.

“Me too. I see you tomorrow,” he said, holding out the car he’d been playing with.

“You keep it in case you got to wait again. Then you’re not bored. I’ll wait with you though if dad says it’s okay,” you said. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. He gave you a hug and you smiled as you returned it. “Do you want to be best friends?”

“Yeah! That’s so cool!” you said. 

“Awesome!” he said. You both packed up and ran over to your parents, your dad chuckling as you waved bye to Jensen.

“Make a new friend on your first day?” he asked.

“That’s Jensen. He’s my best friend forever now,” you said. “That’s how it works. I know. Jensen’s got an older brother and he told him all about it.”

“I see. Well buckle up. I’m sure mom’s wondering where we are,” he said. You climbed in the back and saw his parents give a wave as they drove past. “That was real nice of you to talk to that boy when he was upset like that.”

“I didn’t like him crying, made me feel funny,” you said. “Like my chest had a tummy ache.”

“Oh, you’re going to prom with that boy aren’t you,” he mumbled.

“What’s prom?”

“A very, very long way away. Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

“I remember our first day too,” said Jensen. “I’m always a blabbering mess around you, aren’t I.”

“I think I understand what that tummy ache in my chest was. It’s that same feeling I got when you called earlier. I think we really were too young to understand back then what it was that we were experiencing.”

“You mean how I’ve been in love with you since I was five years old,” he chuckled. “Y/N. I still feel really, and I mean really, really shitty. But thank you for coming over. I need you, more than even I know I think.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” you said. You kissed him and he smiled, closing his eyes. “You want to sleep? You had a long flight and drive, not to mention day.”

“Yeah, I want to crash. I’m exhausted,” he said. You moved to get up but he sat up with you, watching you carefully. He swallowed again and you threw back the covers, climbing underneath them. 

“Not going anywhere,” you said. He got underneath with you and heard him breathe a deep breath, no sniffles in sight for the first time all night. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “I promise.”

“I know. Not looking forward to tomorrow is all,” he said.

“Well I’m going with so...can’t be all bad,” you said.

“No. Like you said back then, I stick with you, I’ll be alright,” he said. “Can you get the room light?”

“Sure,” you said. You hopped out of bed and turned off the big light, walking over to his nightstand and finding the switch. You smiled when you saw the hot wheel car on there, Jensen smiling softly as he looked up at you. “Night Jensen.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[fruitcoops]

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother. 

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter three

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rated: E for drug use and sex scenes

AO3 LINK

*

“Bec?” 

Beca hummed absentmindedly, blinking out of her daze and twisting her head in the direction of the voice. 

Sarah smiled gently as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. She cocked an eyebrow, giving a pointed look towards the sink. “I think the pan is clean.” 

Beca glanced down, stilling her movements. She had been scrubbing that pan for probably ten minutes now, her thoughts completely consumed by Chloe and what she was supposed to do next. 

Chloe clearly didn’t want to see her, and Beca wasn’t going to wait by the phone when it was clear that Chloe was far from okay. She was thinner than Beca remembered, and the look in her eye, the lack of light in those once bright blues, chilled Beca to the bone. 

She looked… broken. As though her spirit had repeatedly been battered until all that was left were mere pieces of her old self. 

If there were any left at all.

Beca couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything, and she needed to come up with a plan to help Chloe without driving her into a corner and risk losing her forever. 

“What’s going on?” Sarah questioned, pushing off the doorframe and padding over. She rested her hand between Beca’s shoulder blades, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’ve seemed off today.” 

Beca released a sigh, setting the pan down into the sink and reaching for the dishtowel laying next to her on the counter to dry her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just… worried about a friend.” 

Sarah nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sarah was unexpected, to say the least. Beca was a workaholic, and her career was too time-consuming for her to get into the whole dating thing. But Sarah, who happened to work as a barista in Beca’s favorite independent coffee shop, had somehow managed to convince Beca to go out with her. One dinner surprisingly turned into a second date, then a third, and it just like that, it had been almost a year since they officially got together. 

Sarah was gentle, patient, understanding, overflowing with positivity, but most of all, incredibly kind. She reminded Beca of Chloe, sometimes. And maybe it was those similar personality traits that drew Beca to her in the first place. 

They didn’t live together. Beca could feel that it was the next expected step on her girlfriend’s end, but she didn’t feel ready to commit, yet. She liked her own space, her solitude. So Sarah spent a few nights a week at Beca’s place, like tonight, and Beca was fine with that. 

“Not really,” she replied, casting Sarah an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just-- complicated right now.” 

“You need to stop apologizing,” Sarah murmured, her expression soft and loving. Beca let her shoulders sag, ready to apologize again. “I understand. But if you do change your mind and need to let something off your chest, I’m here.” 

Beca nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Are you coming to bed?” 

“Not yet, I wanna get some work done, first.” She leaned in to peck Sarah’s lips. “You go ahead, I’ll join you soon.” 

Walking across the living room and past the huge floor to ceiling windows looking over Central Park, Beca made her way to her home office, her happy place. She had bought the Manhattan condo two years ago, making it a requirement during her house-hunt to have a large room with plenty of light and enough space to store all her records and her music equipment. It was also where she kept her Grammys and other prizes, away from the attention as nobody really stepped into her office.

She usually popped a blues album on the record player, enjoying the soothing instrumentals while she replied to various emails, but not tonight. Tonight, she grabbed a yellow legal notepad and her headphones from her desk and curled up on the leather couch tucked in the far corner, then scrolled to her Spotify playlists until she found the one she was looking for. 

she is magic

Beca couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to her Chloe playlist, one she had made back in Barden when she was hopelessly in love with her best friend. They were songs that reminded her of Chloe, or songs that Chloe liked. Or used to like, at least. 

As lyrics she knew so well poured into her headphones, blocking out the rest of the world, different ones flowed out of Beca’s heart, materializing on the paper in front of her in black ink as she scribbled across the page. Lyrics about friendship, unrequited love, and regrets for listening to her brain and not her heart all these years ago. 

It was pushing on two am by the time Beca called it a night. Her eyes burned, her mind felt mushy, but her soul felt a tiny bit lighter. Music had always been her therapy, and writing songs had always proved more efficient than paying a licensed professional, even though it had been years since Beca had last finished one, for lack of inspiration. 

Or rather, because of the absence of her muse. 

*

She woke up five hours later to a stiff neck and sore back, the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows lining one of her office walls drawing her from her sleep. She had meant to go to bed, before deciding to close her eyes for five minutes right on the couch. 

Straightening with a groan, she grabbed her phone and turned it over, hoping to see a text from an unknown number on her screen. 

Aubrey Posen [6:23am]

Any news? 

Aubrey Posen [6:37am]

Should I come to New York? 

Aubrey practiced family law up in Boston. She and Beca saw each other a few times a year, whenever Aubrey was in the city. Bella reunions were a bit more scarce now, with the girls being scattered all around the country. Their last one dated back to a year and a half ago, on the Fourth of July. 

Beca ran a hand over her face and heaved out a sigh, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it. 

Beca [7:16am]

No news yet. I think I’m gonna wait a few days before I head back to the club, if she doesn’t call in the meantime that is. The manager gave me serious sleazy vibes and I’m sure he could blacklist me if I’m too insistent. I don’t think there’s any need for you to come down for now. I’ll keep you posted. 

Hitting send, Beca pushed to her feet and shuffled out of her office, hanging a left down the hall towards the kitchen. A note next to her coffee thermos sat on the island. 

Missed you last night, but I hope you got whatever you needed done. I had to leave for my shift, you’re welcome to swing by for your second coffee of the day and your morning kiss ;) have a good day!

Sarah xx

Guilt swooped in over picking old feelings about an ex-almost over her girlfriend, and Beca let her head hang forward, releasing a grown. She was far from an expert at this relationship thing, but she cared about Sarah a lot and didn’t want to mess that up. 

Beca shook off the sleepiness lingering in her bones and the stiffness in her muscles with a long, hot shower, then got ready for her day. She usually got to the office at 8 sharp, but it was already 7:54 by the time she was out the door, and her commute lasted about twenty minutes, so she wouldn’t get the chance to stop by Sarah’s workplace. 

To: Sarah 

I’m sorry, I got caught up in work last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch around 2. Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner. Have a good shift.

Her morning was spent in the studio canning vocals for girl in red’s new album, a project Beca was stocked about as she was BMLJ’s most promising artist for this year’s Grammy Awards. 

“That was awesome, Marie,” Beca spoke into the microphone, giving her a thumbs-up through the glass. “Let’s take a lunch break and resume in an hour?” 

“Sounds good,” the younger woman agreed with a smile as she took off her headphones. 

Beca headed back to her office down the hall and checked her phone for any new messages (finding none important), before shrugging on her thick winter coat and screwing her beanie over her head. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gina!” She told her assistant on route to the elevator. 

As Sarah’s workplace was just five blocks south from the label, Beca figured she would eat lunch there as she wasn’t able to stop by that morning. She stopped in the convenience store across the street from the coffee shop to buy Sarah her favorite magazine as she knew her break was coming up soon and she’d have something to read. 

Beca was scanning the press stand for that specific magazine, not paying attention to the person walking into the store until they spoke. 

“A pack of Marlboro, please.” 

Beca would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up so fast she felt something in her neck pull, and she was rounding the stand before she even registered giving her feet the order to move. “Chloe?” 

Chloe glanced over to her right and froze for a second, before fishing for a twenty in her jacket pocket and handing it to the cashier. “Are you following me or something?” 

Given their last encounter, Beca wasn’t surprised by Chloe’s snark, so she gave as good as she got. “You came in after I did, so maybe I should ask you that question.” 

Chloe stuffed the cigarette pack and the change into her pocket. “What do you want, Beca?” 

“To talk,” she replied, softly. “One coffee, that’s it. And if you decide you really don’t want me in your life, then I won’t bother you again. I promise.” 

Chloe seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “One coffee.” 

“There’s a shop right across the street.” 

Taking her to the place her girlfriend worked at? Probably not the brightest idea, but she was afraid Chloe might go back on her decision if they spent too long finding someplace else. 

When Chloe nodded, Beca took the lead and stepped outside, forgetting all about that magazine as she racked her brain about what she should say. Tactfulness wasn’t her greatest suit; Aubrey would be so much better at this. 

They stepped inside Devocion and Beca picked a table in the corner, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair. Chloe kept her jacket and beanie on, a bit hunched on herself as she sat down in the chair opposite Beca’s. 

“Beca?” 

Beca glanced towards Sarah as she approached, wearing a waist apron with the café logo on it. Her dark blonde hair was woven back in a French braid, a few strands escaping, and curiosity swirled in her green eyes as they flickered to Chloe. 

Okay, in hindsight, bringing Chloe here was a terrible idea. 

“Hey, um, Sarah, this is Chloe, a friend from college.” She cleared her throat. “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah replied brightly, her smile fading a little when all Chloe offered was a distant nod. Sarah met Beca’s gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “What can I get you guys?” 

“My usual. You want anything to eat, Chlo?” 

The nickname rolled off her tongue so naturally, Beca didn’t even catch it. 

Chloe shook her head. “Just a black coffee.” 

“Coming right up.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as Sarah spun around on her heels, her focus shifting to Chloe. “So um, I wanted to apologize for the other day and putting you on the spot at the club. I just… wasn’t sure how else to talk to you.” 

“I can give you some of the money back if you need it.” 

Beca furrowed her brow, not having expected that. “No, no. I… it’s fine. I don’t care about money.” 

Something flashed in Chloe’s eyes at that, something Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Sarah came back with two coffees before she could analyze it further, setting the mugs down on the table. “Your club sandwich will be here in a few, babe.” 

Beca nodded, casting her a small, appreciative smile. 

Chloe straightened a bit in her seat, cradling the mug with both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say or do, Beca.” 

Beca licked her lips. “I was hoping we could… hang out from time to time. I’ve missed you, Chlo. So has Aubrey.” 

The mention of Aubrey made Chloe lookup. “Does she live in New York, too?” 

“Um no, in Boston. She’s a lawyer. But she’d come down to have coffee, or lunch, or whatever you feel like doing. In a heartbeat.” 

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

What little hope flared in the pit of Beca’s belly upon Chloe showing interest in Aubrey’s life vanished. “Why not?” 

“I told you. I’m not the same person anymore. I’m-- I’m not…” 

Beca tilted her head to the side. “You’re not what?” She pressed gently. 

Chloe’s gaze fleeted out the window as her rather calm demeanor now radiated agitation. Her knee started bouncing and her fingers tightened around the mug, and it was as though Chloe was battling against her own thoughts. 

She was itching to reach across the table to rest her hand over her wrist in a sort of grounding gesture, but something told her that would have the opposite effect. 

“Chloe?” Beca attempted once more, her voice as soft as she could muster, as it seemed like Chloe was on the brink of bolting. 

The tear slipping out of Chloe’s eye tore her heart into two. “I-I have to go.” 

Her chair screeched as she pushed it back roughly, and she was nearly out the door by the time Beca scrambled to her feet. 

It was lunch-hour rush in one of the busiest avenues in Manhattan, and Chloe had already disappeared in the crowd when she reached the exit, leaving Beca to helplessly wonder how someone like Chloe, once the epitome of sunshine, got herself trapped in so much darkness.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Natural” - Chapter 8 - Embry Call x Reader

Training

By the time that morning came I felt like I had only had my eyes closed for a half an hour. I woke up to my father knocking on my door at 8 in the morning. 

“(Y/N), can you talk for a minute?” He asks. 

“Yeah, one sec.” I get up out of bed and make my way over to the door. 

Swinging it open, I see my father, smiling more than usual.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Well, I actually have to go away on a business trip for a week. I just got the call about an hour ago, which ruined my grocery shopping trip. I’m going to leave you money, go this morning, I have to leave for the airport in an hour. I’m sorry to leave on such short notice. I tried talking to my boss but I can’t get out of it.” He looks at me apologetically. 

“Dad, it’s okay. I understand. This happens, I’m used to it by now.” I smile. 

“I know, I just wish I didn’t have to do it as much as I do.” His smile is one hinting of disappointment.

“Dad, it’s alright. We’re still as close as we are for a reason. You’re like the best dad ever.” I hug him. 

“Thank you, (Y/N). We’ll do something fun when I get back, okay?” He pulls away, looking at me with hopeful eyes. 

While I always got sad to see my dad leave, a part of me felt an enormous weight lift off my shoulders. He won’t be here for the newborn battle. A wave of relief washed over me. 

I nod and smile, accepting the money he held out in his hand. Following him as he went into his room to pack. We talked about where he was going and what he was going to do, all the fun stuff you do before your dad has to up and leave with no notice for the fifteenth time that year. 

I send a text to Embry, explaining the situation and inviting him to come over on my journey on this fine morning before we have to meet up with everyone for training. He lets me know that he would be over in a half an hour. 

“Please be good. Don’t destroy the house. Make good choices. Don’t make me a grandpa, please.” My dad smiles as he walks out of the front door, giving me another hug. 

“Oh god Dad, please. I will be good. Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch.” I smile. 

“Ok good.” He kisses my forehead and runs out to his car. 

I shut the door and get myself dressed. By now it was almost 9:00 and I was waiting for Embry’s arrival. 

I took the time to start making pancakes for Embry and I to eat before we went shopping. I made the batter and began cooking the first one in the pan as I heard a knock on the door. 

“Hey there, Em.” I smile. 

“Hey, beautiful. It smells good, are you cooking?” He kisses my cheek and then walks into the kitchen, searching for the source of the smell. 

“Yeah, I’m making pancakes.” 

“Chocolate chips, right?” 

“Of course.” I giggle, as he presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. 

We walk over to the stove, flipping the pancake. 

“You know how great you are, right?” He says softly, leaning down, cupping my face with his hands. 

“Thank you, Em.” I blush, leaning in to kiss his lips. 

I pull away after, trying to prevent the pancake from burning. 

“This one’s yours.” I smile, putting the pancake on a plate and handing it over. 

We continued to make the pancakes, having fun as we goof off, and ate breakfast together. 

“Well, I have to go grocery shopping. You still down to come and help me?” I ask, putting the plates in the dishwasher. 

“Of course, bean. Let’s get going.” He stands up from the chair. 

We get into my car and make our merry way to the grocery store, listening to music way too loud. 

Pulling into the parking spot, I lower the music and shut the car off.

Embry turns and pulls me in for a kiss.

“Thanks, Em.” I chuckle.

“I’m just excited.” He laughs. 

“For what?” I ask. 

“Well, anything I get to do with you is fun.” He looks into my eyes, before looking down at his lap, hiding his blushing cheeks. 

“Awe, Embry. That’s so sweet. You make everything a great experience, too.” I kiss his cheek before getting out of the car. 

As we push our cart around the store, it was surprisingly fun thanks to Embry’s company. 

I stood there, feeling for the best oranges with Embry when I heard a familiar voice. 

“(Y/N)?” A young woman’s voice calls out to my left. 

I look up and see my old friend from high school. We sat together in a few classes and always had our little girl talk, helped each other with the work, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. We went to the mall together on occasion, she was someone I actually enjoyed from Forks High School. 

“Alyssa? No way.” I smile as I walk over and hug her hello.

“When did you come back?” She asks with a grin on her face. 

“I just got back not too long ago, I left Texas after graduation. I’m back for good, now.” 

“Oh that’s great. We should hang out sometime and catch up.” She smiles.

“Yes, please! I miss you.” I laugh, grabbing my phone out of my pocket to get her new number. 

“How’re things?” She asks, eyes flashing between Embry and I.

“Oh. They’re great. Alyssa, this is my boyfriend, Embry. Embry, this is Alyssa. We were good friends back in high school.” I blush excitedly. 

Alyssa’s eyes flash with excitement, looking into mine. She used to know about my dilemma with him-- being in love with my best friend. 

“Nice to meet you, I remember (Y/N) talking about you.” He reaches out to shake her hand. 

“Nice to finally meet you, too. (Y/N) told me a lot about you.” She winked at me. 

My cheeks turned an insane shade of red, slightly flustered. 

“Oh, I’m sure she did.” Embry teases, pulling me closer into his side. 

“Well, it was great to see you. But I have to run, let’s hang out this week?” Alyssa asks.

“Of course, I’ll text you.” I smile and wave goodbye. 

She walks away and Embry looks down at me.

“So you used to talk about me a lot?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh you watch it, Call.” I poke him in the side. 

“No, that’s cute.” He murmurs. 

“She and I had a lot of girl talk, she knew how I felt back then.” 

“It’s okay, Quil got a lot of it from me, too.” He laughs. 

“I mostly told Jacob, I think Quil just inferred.” 

“Interesting.” Embry whispers. 

“What is?” I ask. 

“How I never believed Jacob when he told me you liked me. I was too afraid to ruin the friendship. I didn’t wanna scare you away and lose what we had.” He frowns. 

“I was the same way, but in the end it all worked out.” I lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“You’re right. Let’s get the rest of the stuff and get out of here. We have to meet up with everyone in a couple of hours.” He pulls me into the next aisle. 

We walk around, getting the rest of what I needed for the week, of course including our favorite snacks. We get rung up and pack the bags into my car. 

Driving home was a bit quieter, as Embry seemed to be thinking deeply. I figured it was about the fight going down in three days, or at least training with me present. 

I pull into my driveway and begin grabbing bags out of my trunk, and Embry grabs an absurd amount. 

“We aren’t doing two trips.” He smiles. 

“Okay, well let me take some of yours.” I try to take a bag or so from him.

“No, you already have a bag.” “Yeah, I have one bag. I can take more.” 

“No, I got it.” He smiles goofily, holding ten shopping bags with ease. 

“Well, alright. If you insist.” I smirk and lead the way into my house. 

We put the groceries away and take a look at the time. Almost noon. 

“What time do we go?” I ask.

“We have to head to Sam’s for 12:30.” He smiles weakly. 

“So we should get going now, then?” I ask.

“I guess.” He looks down.

“Embry, I’m not worried. They won’t hurt me, you’ll keep me safe. You all will. I just wanna see how this all works.” I place my hand on his shoulder. 

His worried eyes meet mine, almost seeming to calm instantly. His sweet lips form into a small grin. 

“How do you do that?” He whispers. 

“What?” 

“Always make me feel better. No matter what.” He smiles. 

“I just do for you what you do for me.” I smile. 

The drive over to Sam’s was quiet, as I knew Embry was a worried mess. 

We pull in front of the house to be greeted by everyone. 

I walk over and begin talking to Leah while Embry goes to talk to Jacob and Sam. 

“Hey.” I breathe out. 

“Hey, (Y/N). You’re coming today?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I kinda wanted to know what was going on. I just feel worried about the whole thing, I hoped this would give me some peace.” I shrug. 

“It might. But don’t get too close to the Cullens. I don’t trust them.” She looks at me. 

“You got it, boss. I’ll be by Embry and you the whole time.” I smirk.

“Good.” She gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

Like I said, Leah and I were always friends, just not too many big conversations. Though, it was a mutual understanding that we cared for one another greatly. 

“Leah?” I look over at her.

“Yeah?” Her eyes meet my worried ones. “Do you think everyone will be okay? Are you worried?” My voice cracks a bit at the end.

“(Y/N), I’m not worried. I mean, don’t get me wrong I worry about Seth because he’s my brother, but overall we’ll be okay. I’m not worried. Try not to freak out, alright?” She wraps her arm around my shoulder, giving another comforting squeeze. 

“Thanks, Leah. We can reschedule the girl’s day for after the fight. I know Sunday doesn’t work anymore.” I chuckle.

“Yeah, that works. Some time during the week works, since the battle is on Monday.” She laughs. 

We walk back over to the rest of the group, discussing how to show up to the clearing where we’d meet with the Cullens.  

“We’re not going in human form, not worth the risk.” Sam says authoritatively.

I look at Embry, wondering how the hell I’d get there, knowing damn well I couldn’t keep up with them. 

“You can get on my back, but you’re gonna have to hold on tight.” He whispers.

I nod before returning my attention to Sam. 

“(Y/N), I know they won’t do anything. But just be careful, don’t get in the way so you don’t get hurt.” Sam looks at me.

“Of course.” I nod.

“Don’t bleed.” Quil throws in with a chuckle.

I look at him with a questioning face. “He’s right, they don’t need any temptation.” Sam nods, looking back at me. 

“Alright.” I felt my nerves grow again until I felt Embry’s hand grab mine, rubbing circles into the back of my hand with his thumb. 

Relief washes over me. 

“Let’s head out.” Sam orders. 

Everyone except Jacob and I walks behind the bushes, taking their clothes off to phase. Embry walks back out to  get me on his back. Jacob lifts me up, helping me get on Embry’s back before he himself goes to phase. 

Embry started off slow to make sure I was able to hold on, and even then I was holding on for dear life. Feeling bad for holding onto his fur so tight, but also knowing I would fly off if I didn’t. He picked up speed to stay close enough to the others while Leah and Jacob stayed back to make sure we weren’t alone, just in case. 

I could barely breathe with the force of the wind in my face, we were moving faster than I thought any being could ever run. Though I knew they all took it slow for me, while I watched the others disappear into the distance, amazed at their speed. 

We finally reach the clearing. I tried to get off of Embry’s back without falling on my face, which proved to be quite difficult due to his size. 

“One of us could help her down if you would like.” Carlisle offers. 

I hear a growl escape from Embry, Jacob, Leah, and Quil. 

“I’d be okay with that.” I nod at Sam, who looks at me. 

“Emmett, go help her.” Carlisle says, resulting in Emmett slowly walking over. 

I hear a low growl as Paul walks closer to Embry and I’s side, making me remember the issues they had. Embry lets a small growl out, as well. 

“It’s fine.” I whisper to them. 

Quil merely comes over silently, just to make sure things stayed calm. 

“Hey, you ready?” The burly man asks, giving me a comforting smile. 

“Yeah, thank you.” I smile back at him. 

I felt Embry tense underneath me as Emmett’s ice cold hands touch me. The whole pack fell silent, focusing their attention on Emmett and I. 

Emmetts strong, cold hands carefully wrap around my middle and pick me up off of Embry, setting me down gently. 

“I’ll help you get back up there later, if you need help.” He offers. 

“Thank you, I might need it.” 

Emmett returns back to his family and Embry moves closer to me, standing protectively. 

“Em, it’s okay. Everything is fine.” I lean my head into his shoulder. 

I look to my other side, thanking Leah, Quil, and Paul for their support. All three of them nod. 

“My son Edward will use his gift to communicate.” Carlisle explains.

And so it begins. Jasper begins his teachings as we watch the Cullens fight. 

I was amazed at their speed, at how strong they were. My eyes could barely follow what they were doing. 

“Hey Jake.” Bella says, walking over to Jacob and petting him.

I look over and smile. 

“Hey. How are you?” She asks me.

“I’m alright, just nervous.” I admit.

“Me too. But they look like they know what they’re doing.” She gives a soft smile. 

“That’s true.” I reason. 

“Never let them get their arms around you, they will crush you instantly.” Jasper’s voice echoes throughout my head. 

Embry lightly nudges me with his nose as he notices my discomfort. 

“Hey, Em.” I lean my head against his shoulder.

We watched for hours, watching the Cullens throw each other around like ragdolls. Listening to Jasper’s knowledge both comforted and brought me worrisome thoughts at the same time. How was he so sure? Everyone seemed so comfortable with this situation.

I guess that’s what separated me from everyone here. I didn’t experience these things on a daily basis for a long time. This wasn’t my everyday routine, killing vampires. I guess now I would have to worry about this. 

Edward looks at me with a knowing face, one with sympathy. I suddenly connect how he’s been communicating between his family and the wolves-- he reads minds. 

I smile, unsure of how to feel that someone was poking around in my thoughts. 

“Thank you.” He says to me. 

“For what?” 

“I find your thoughts to be a relief. It’s pretty tense right now.” He chuckles softly. 

I nod with a small smile as Embry and Leah move closer to me, noticing Edward speaking to me.  

After we were done for the day, we agreed to do the same thing tomorrow. Emmett once again helping me, picking me up and placing me onto Embry’s back. 

“Thank you.” I murmur, smiling at him.

“Of course.” He smiles, his golden eyes flickering in the light. 

And with that, we were on our way back to Sam’s. 

The run back wasn’t as fast, as everyone was comfortable not going full speed. 

Embry holds back from phasing, letting Jacob come get me off his back before he ran behind the bushes to phase himself. 

“Thanks, Jake.” I smile.

“You got it.” He pulls me in for a side hug. 

“How was that?” Quil asks, walking over. 

Embry follows, not too far behind. 

“That was kinda crazy. I just, it feels so real now.” I shrug, looking at Quil. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. But it’s all gonna be okay.” Jacob gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze as Embry walks behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). You’ll be safe here with Emily and Kim.” Sam smiles. 

“I’m gonna stay here while it happens?” I ask.

“We figure that’s the safest place for you to be.” Sam says. 

“That’s fair. Sounds like a plan.” I nod at him. 

“You can all go home now, be ready for tomorrow. Sunday you can relax, spend time with your families, imprints, or each other. Jacob will be going up Sunday night to camp with Bella and Edward. Monday, we all meet at my house before going to the site. Remember the plan.” Sam announces. 

Poor Jake. He’s probably losing his mind thinking about that night.

We all nod and separate. 

“Well we can watch movies at my house or something tonight, my dad is gone all week.” I offer, shrugging my shoulders. 

“That sounds like fun.” Paul says. 

Jared says that he’s going to Kim’s and Sam states that he’ll be staying home with Emily, though I extended the invitations to their imprints. I understand they wanted their alone time, though. 

The rest of us meet up at my house.

We decide to order pizza and enjoy the night as best we can, given the daunting circumstances. 

We watch stupid horror movies, laughing at the cheesy graphics and scripts. One at a time, people kept falling asleep. 

It started with Quil, falling asleep on the floor in the mess of blankets. Jacob soon followed on the other side of the floor, Leah and Seth on their shared couch. Paul fell asleep on the other side of the couch he shared with Embry and I, kicking me with his legs. I fell asleep on Embry’s chest, as he stayed awake laughing at all of us. The last thing I saw before falling asleep was the light of the TV illuminating his beautiful face, him kissing me softly. 

______________________________

Word Count: 3158

taglist: @jjpogueprincess​

 I  II  III  IV  V  VI  VII  VIII  VIIII  X  XIR XIE  XII  XIII  XIV  XV XVI  XVII  XVIII  XIIII

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Slow Going

Sometimes the world shifted.

Or at least, it felt like it did; like he was on the deck of a boat being tossed about by waves, getting knocked off his feet the moment he’d found them steady. The silver-haired man whose face looked so familiar – his brother? – explained in a soft voice that it wasn’t the world, it was his own mind. Something about memory guns and relapses and memories and slow recovery. He couldn’t quite understand it. He tried, but it was like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces missing.

For the most part the world was stable enough. They lived in a house – his house, apparently. The man was his brother. The sweet-faced kids were his niece and nephew. Or… great niece and nephew?

Definitely great. They called him ‘grunkle’.

He knew that something big must have happened, back before he’d woken up in the forest a few days ago. Everyone here seemed so sad. It made his chest ache, a black stain of worry spreading through him. But no matter how much he asked no one would explain it to him. Or… maybe they already did, and he’d forgotten?

Maybe everyone was sad because they missed this ‘Stan’ character. The kids, his brother, and that weirdly familiar man-child who came around every day looked upset whenever he asked about the guy. Even though some of them called him by that name? Was it his name?

He groaned and sat up from his bed, abandoning any hope of getting back to sleep. Not with his brain being all screwy and this headache pulsing in his temples. The dull throbbing always seemed to spike up when he hit a particularly frustrating block – like when he’d spent ten minutes staring at a stranger only to realize the face staring back was his own reflection in the window. Or when he forgotten how to tie his shoelaces. The bad days came and went like waves on the open sea.

He groaned again, one hand scrubbing at his face as the other fumbled around for…

For?

His hand found a pair of glasses on the bedside table. That old guy wore glasses, right?

 -a bright-eyed child with a book in one hand, gesturing excitedly, poking up his glasses when they started to slip down his nose-

 Yeah, his brother, Ford. Must be his glasses then.

He pulled on a rumbled jacket and trudged downstairs, smothering a yawn in one hand. From the chill in the air it must be early, so he was careful not to make noise and wake the kids, who he was pretty sure slept in the basement or the attic or something. Were they still there at all? Still, there was a clattering coming from the kitchen. He followed it curiously.

His brother glanced up when he entered. The man – his name was Ford, he reminded himself – was doing… something at the stove. Something that was resulting in sizzling and a bit of smoke.

“Oh, Stanley, good morning. How are you?”

Stanley! That was his name, he remembered now. He got the feeling that he’d forgotten it before. Jeez, it was a bit embarrassing to forget your own name. Since when was he having memory problems anyway? He couldn’t… remember…

“Stanley?” Ford stepped closer, his eyes searching Stan’s face. “Are you alright? Are… are you having another episode?”

Stan shook his head and suddenly remembered the glasses in his hand. He held them out.

“Episode? Of what, Ducktective? No, I’m good. Are these yours?”

Ford’s eyes landed on the glasses and he bit his lip. “No, Stan, those are yours.”

Stan blinked. “…I have glasses?”

Ford gently took them from his hand, unfolded them and slid them over Stan’s face. The world sharpened around him.

“Oh! So that’s why everything was so blurry.” Now that his vision was clear he could see the mess of what he hoped were eggs sizzling in the pan over Ford’s shoulder. Well, less sizzling, more hissing and blackened around the edges. “Uhh – hey, Ford? What the heck is that?”

Ford brightened at the use of his name. Then he had the grace to look sheepish.

“Ah, yes. I was attempting to make breakfast – though it has been some time since I’ve cooked. I seem to be a little out of practice.”

Stan snorted and ducked past his brother to take the pan off the heat. “Yeah, no kidding. These eggs look more scrambled than my brain.”

“…they were supposed to be pancakes.”

This time Stan couldn’t suppress a loud laugh. “Alright, move over. Time to let the pros work.” He tipped Ford’s disaster-cakes into the bin with a flick of his wrist and pulled out a fresh bowl. “You’re gonna wanna mix the eggs and milk together before you add ‘em to the flour. And put that measuring cup away. When it comes to pancakes you gotta measure this shit with your heart.”

He found he didn’t have to ask where the flour was kept, or the whisk. His hands found them instinctively. Stan’s autopilot was on a roll as he chatted away.

And then he turned and caught a glimpse of Ford gaping at him. Stan hesitated.

“…what? I got something on my face?”

Ford shook his head quickly, a warm smile spreading across his face. “No. Please, continue.”

“Uhh… sure.” Stan shrugged before resuming whisking the batter. “You wanna pass me the ladle so I can fry these bad boys? And see if we’ve got any jam in the fridge. One of the scamps – err, was it Mabel? – she likes the stuff, right?”

“They both do.” Ford explained. “Mabel has a higher tolerance for sweets, though, so it’s an easy mistake to make. I – Stan, is that glitter?”

The surprise in Ford’s voice made Stan stop and look down at his hands. Sure enough, clutched in one fist was a jar of bright pink sparkles. When had he picked it up? Just looking at it made his head throb.

“I… I guess so. Why do I…?” He looked around helplessly. “I don’t remember why…”

Suddenly he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. He was in a kitchen, cooking. Or he had been. How did he know how to cook? He couldn’t remember the recipe, or where he’d learned it.

Ford gently pried the jar of glitter from his hand, reading the label out loud. “Industrial strength edible glitter. I suppose this is how Mabel makes her cooking so… vibrant.”

How did he get here? Why did his head hurt?

“Do you remember a few weeks ago?” Ford prompted. “The biscuits she made were glittery. She made me come up from the basement for a formal tea party and gave us all pretentious names. I was worried the glitter may be toxic so I tried to run a few tests on them to make sure they were safe, and you told me I was being silly.”

…glitter. Biscuits. Pancakes. Stan winced and rubbed his forehead at another spike of pain.

“…right, yeah. The, um, the glitter.” Just like that, the world was coming into focus again. The boat righted itself. “I… lost a bet with – what’s her name? Mabel – and for the rest of the summer every pancake I made hasta be filled with glitter. Somethin’ about makeup for your insides.”

Ford smiled eagerly. “Stan! You remembered something without direct prompting!”

“…you told me about the thing.”

“About the glitter, yes, but not the bet! This means you’re getting better!”

Stan was still kinda confused, but it was hard to be crabby in the face of that sunshine grin. It made him feel all warm inside. Safe.

So he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, letting the headache fade into background noise. “Yeah, well. You’re still gettin’ glitter with these pancakes. A bet’s a bet.”

“Of course. I doubt even amnesia would save you from Mabel’s wrath if she found out you went back on your word. Do you happen to remember what she would have had to do if she’d lost?”

“Err…” Stan racked his brain. It sent another twinge of pain through him but it was worth it when his brother was smiling like that. “Somethin’ about that pig. I was probably gonna make her kick it out or somethin’.”

“You love that pig.” Ford said dismissively. Stan punched him lightly in the arm and it just felt right.

“You take that back! No way am I attached to a piece of living bacon!”

“Fine, fine. Then for the sake of your dignity; you love Mabel and she loves that pig. Ergo, you would not have made her kick it out.”

“Ah, whatever.” Stan flapped his hand. “Didja want these pancakes or not, mister smarty-pants?”

“I would love nothing more.”

Stan rolled his eyes at his brother’s fervent tone. It was just pancakes. Not like Stan had risen from the dead or anything. Ugh, drama kids.

But – it was nice. Stan wasn’t sure why the familiar-but-not-too-familiar banter filled him with a bittersweet feeling. His brother’s smile, the ease of working in a kitchen he could have sworn he’d never used but somehow knew like the back of his hand, it all just felt right.

Stan couldn’t remember what he’d woken up thinking about that morning, but he did know that he was happy. And wasn’t that enough?

[knifeewifee]

Strawberries and Promises

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

A/N: Yo back with another fic! This time it’s of my very lovely Jin! This is my Free space for @bnhabookclub BNHA Bingo! Theme Strawberries <3 I had alot of fun with this. I wanna thank @luluartsstuff @pixxiesdust and @sugacookiies for beta reading for me! You guys helped so much and I appreciate it !

TW: Not really any just fluff and a little angsty at the end

WC: 1.5K

Pairing: Twice // Jin Bubaigawara x Reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Soft yellow rays of the morning sun leaked through your pale purple curtains, the light softly bathed your face in its warmth. Your body twisted and turned as you forced yourself to roll out of the tempting comfort of your bed, the nights sleep still settled heavily in your bones and muscles. Your eyes begged for more sleep as you turned your attention to the sleeping figure next to you. His blond hair was more of a mess than it normally was, your fingers gently ran over his soft hair as you left your shared room. It was rare that Jin would be awake this early. You knew this was your chance to surprise him with a nicely made breakfast in bed.

The cold marble floor made your toes feel like ice cubes as you made your way to the kitchen. Nothing screamed good morning like a nice hot cup of coffee and breakfast. You opened the jar and the smell of the darkly roasted bean instantly hit your dulled senses as you opened your coffee jar. The strong smell of the dark beans was a nice contrast to the flowery and fruity smell of your home.

    You switched on your coffee maker and quickly began making breakfast. You walked to the fridge and pulled out strawberries you and Jin had picked the other day. You placed the strawberries and other ingredients onto the counter and began to lay out all of the ingredients to make pancakes, tossing in the strawberries last. The sweet fruit smell made your stomach growl as you began to pour the batter into the hot pan. You tried to make small hearts but only got blobs. You sighed at the little misshapen hearts. Maybe he’ll still be able to tell what they are? You hoped he would anyways. 

Jin hadn’t been home in days. You always worried about him. You knew exactly what he did, he was a villain, but you still loved him. To you, he wasn’t anything more than Jin, a hard-working and goofy man who held your heart so tenderly. He showed you the kind of softness you’d never experienced in life before. Jin was selfless when it came to you. He did anything and everything you asked, even if it was rare you asked anything of him. You knew if you had asked him to stop being a villain he would, but he’d lose the family he’d finally found. He’d lose something he felt was just as important as you. You couldn’t ask that of him. So instead you asked him to be careful, to stay safe. You asked him to come home. And he does. Every single time, he comes home. 

But this time he came home injured. Cuts and bruises littered his body. It made your heart ache to see someone you loved so much injured. But, like always he brushed it off. Said he was fine. He never wanted you to worry but no matter what, you would. You always feared he wouldn’t come home. But today you pushed aside your worries. Today was a special day. Jin said he’d spend it all with you, and your excitement to spend more time with your love grew.  

You carefully placed the pancakes onto a plate with fresh strawberries next to them. You smiled at your handiwork. They didn’t look too bad, even if one did look like a pterodactyl.  Just as you were about to turn, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and Jin’s warm breath on your neck as he laid his head on your shoulder. 

“Morning…” His voice was laden with sleep as he rubbed his face into your nightshirt. 

Your hand wrapped around his as you hum a reply. “Morning sleepy head.. You’re up early.” You leaned into his touch as he nods. 

“Yeah... You were missing.. - No you weren’t, I don’t care. “ Jin groaned as he pulled you closer. “What are you doing up so early anyway?” Jin lifted his head up and his eyes fall onto the plate of pancakes in front of you. “-Is that a pterodactyl?” 

Your cheeks puffed out into a pout. “No! Can’t you see Jin? They are hearts!” You traced a heart shape over the pancake to show what it should look like. 

Jin snorted a bit as he chuckled, “Yeah, yeah, I see it now.”  He reached out and grabbed the plate. “Cute little hearts… “ Jin kissed your cheek as he walked back to your shared room, leaving your back cold missing his warmth. You followed not far behind with forks. 

You crawled into the plush bed with Jin handing him a fork as you both began to eat them. As soon as you were done, Jin brought the plate to the kitchen and began to wash them. You wrapped your arms around his much bigger frame and rested your head against his back as he stood at the kitchen sink. You hadn’t even noticed him finish the dishes. Before you knew it your feet no longer touched the floor as Jin lifted you up and carried you towards the living room. Your hand found its way towards his cheek as you began to kiss him, a small giggle leaving your lips as Jin made a show and spun you around. Gently he placed you onto the couch and sat next to you. 

You looked around for the remote before finding it on the coffee table. You turned on the tv as Jin cuddled up next to you. His head rested on your chest as you skimmed through the movies. 

“Let’s watch something funny!- NO A horror! Scary!~” Jin shook his head. 

Another giggle left your lips as you kissed Jin’s forehead. “Let’s watch a comedy then!” You picked a movie and settled comfortably in Jin’s warm embrace. His scent engulfed you in a soothing blanket of familiarity. You didn’t pay much attention to the movie as Jin’s lips met yours over and over again in innocent kisses. Soon his kisses left your lips and moved towards your face. He left kisses all over and a laugh erupted from your throat.  His hands found their way to your sides, tickling you.  

“Jin! Why!” You giggled, and tried to push his hands away. His fingers danced over every ticklish place you had. Your resistance was futile as you tried to wiggle away. 

“Your laugh is cute! That’s why.” Jin’s fingers stopped suddenly as he looked down on you. His face softened as he stared at your slightly reddened face. “Who knows when I’ll hear it again.” He kissed you again. A ping of sadness settled in your stomach as you pushed him away slightly. 

“Tomorrow! And the day after that too! And every day until we both grow old, silly.”  The room went quiet. The only noise came from the old tv that sat across the room. Laughter radiated from the speakers as you ran your hand through Jin’s hair, a sad smile forming on Jin’s lips as he placed his face into your neck. 

“I hope so…” 

You ran your hands over his back and you smiled. “No hoping Jin. We’ll grow old. We’ll do so many things together! We’ll get married, maybe have a kid or two.” 

Jin’s hot breath coated your neck as he chuckled “Or 5! - OR NONE.” 

You shook your head. “Let's stick to a reasonable number, Jin!” Jin snaked his arms around you as he rolled to the side, pulling you both off the couch and onto the floor with an oof. You laid on top of him, his arms were unwilling to let you go as if the second he did you’d disappear. 

“Jin. You worry about the bad things too much. “ You kissed his forehead as you pulled away to look at his face. “ You always act like I’ll disappear or something. I’m not a clone... I’ll always be here”  You almost regretted your words as you saw tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not worried about you disappearing… I’m a villain.. I’m worried about me disappearing.” 

A knot formed in your stomach at his words. You both always had this thought. Something neither of you ever said aloud. You both knew what being a villain would cost. There was always a chance he wouldn’t come home, a chance he could be caught and arrested. Every day that he left the house, the chances of him not coming home grew, and even though neither of you ever said anything about it, you know knew this. 

“Stop that Jin. Of course, you won’t.“ You snuggled into his chest. The old scratchy carpet dug into your knees painfully as you pressed closer to him. “You’ll come home just like you promised and I’ll be here waiting for you every single time. “ 

Jin stayed silent as you both just lay there. You knew he didn’t quite believe it. But you had hope in him that he’ll always come back. In all the years you’ve been with him, Jin never broke a promise. “Promise? You’ll always be waiting, right?'' His words were quiet, almost a whisper as you nodded your head. 

“Always.” You both laid there for what seemed like forever as you melted into each other's embrace. This was a promise you’d never break, because Jin is the only person you’d ever love like this.

[70swizards]

marauders in a bakery

jamesiepoo:

would absolutely LOVE to work with dough

would make the biggest mess

tries to act like those italian chefs that spin the pizza dough, EVEN THO HES NOT MAKING PIZZA

refuses to clean after himself. what’s cleaning?

wears “kiss the cook” apron

“LILY YOU MUST RESPECT THE WORDS OF THE WISE APRON! now kiss the cook please”

gives you literal “helping his mum in the kitchen” vibes

listens to muggle music in the bakery and everyone is just so fed up bECAUSE HE HAS TO HAVE IT AT ITS HIGHEST VOLUME

initiates food fights

teaching baby hazza his recipes and lily walking in screaming, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING- DONT CORRUPT THE CHILD” even though she’s looking at him with so much fondness

early morning pancake surprises

breakfast in bed for whoever he’s living with

DANCES AROUND THE KITCHEN WITH THE DRAMATIC ASS MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

edits recipes to make them so much better

glasses go all wonky and he’s got bits of food all over them after cooking

all the mess it worth it at the end bc the resukt is perfect

seerius blek:

his favourite part is dusting the pastries with powdered sugar

gets lily accidentally involved in food fights and ends up running for his life

“i’m the best cook!” *burns pasta water*

he uses box mixes for cakes and tells remus he made it from scratch, and after remus finds the box in the trash sirius just turns into a dog and goes “you wouldn’t hurt a poor innocent dog would you 🥺”

cries over james’ lava cake

COOKS WITH DOG FOOD

he does it as a prank and everyone else is just like wha t t h e f uc k is wrong with this man while he just eats the dog food happily

often gets banned from the bakery

HAIR IS ALWAYS TIED WITH HIS WAND AND THERE ARE THESE LITTLE STRANS THAT STAY OUT- he looks like a vogue model

leaves the dishes to “soak” so he can clean them later

never touches the dishes ever again

hazel said sirius loves jelly so sirius loves jelly and would force james into making it for him often

“IM NKT THE ONE MAKING A MESS HWRE- *YOURE* MAKINF A MESS OKAY”

“that’s NOT my hair in your food.”

sobs like a child when cutting onions

remmy the ratatouille:

“i’m literally not even a rat”

“I DONT CARE IF YOUT mEtHoD IS MORE FUN JAMES. THIS IS MORE EFFICIENT”

somehow makes the most food eith the least mess

it’s bc of this magical thing he does

it’s called cleaning after himself

“james i love you so much but get the fuck out i cant watch that, please i’m begging you”

*right after calling james out for being messy* *drops the bag of flour followed by fluent cursing*

“it seems to me that you’re the one making the mess rem”

usuallt says he doesn’t wanna help but when he sees someone doing something in a different way he’d go “can we please do it this way? like this- look” *does it himself, smiling*

was once reading before coming to the bakery so his glasses were up in his hair

while he was making cake batter, he looks down and the glasses just fall into the batter and he almsot cried because

“THIS IS THE FOURTH PAIR THIS MONTH IM GONNA FUCKING COMMIT A CRIME”

acts like he hates food fights but as soon as he gets hit- it’s over for everyone. to say the least, make sure you’ve booked a bed at the infirmary

will fucking throw you off the eiffel tower if you even think of tasting raw batter

ALWAYS. WASHING. HIS. HANDS.

never uses specific measurements

“i’ll just eye it”

mostly controls and monitors them

loves to make cinnamon rolls and sirius makes the icing

peter pan:

will knock everyhting down accidentally

pro taster, will immediately know what’s missing

bowl licker

he will eat everyhtunt thrown at him in a food fight BECAUSE DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK YOU HAVE ANYTHING ON ME? HA YOU BITCH IM FONNA DESTROY YOH

when cleaning after himself, he turns the tap onto the highest setting and just splashes himself and everyhtunt arounf him

A TOTAL CLUTZ

cooking is his love language

ABSOLUTELY ADORES TO MAKE LITTLE FINGER FOODS WITH THE TOOTHPICKS ON TOP

LOVES to work with puff pastry

will literally make up recipes from scratch in class and give them to james to try

GETS SUPER MESSY AND HIS APRON ENDS UP BEING SOAKED IN BATTER

he picks at everyhtunt he’s making so he’ll start off with enough to serve 12 and end up with enough to serve 8

who listens to serving proportions anyways

CO M B I N ES A L L R E C IP E S

cooks or bakes when he’s bored

coukd litwrallt start a business

gets his mums cooking notes to show the marauders

refuses to use magic when cooking

lily flower:

washes EVERYTHING

if you’re working with fish, eggs, meat, chicken, or anything of the sort, she should supervise bc she doesn’t want you to make a mess with them.

proceeds to spray clorox everywhere

CAKE DECORATING G O D D E S S

will carry baby hazza in one hand and cook with the other

“leave my child out of this james, HE DOES WHATEVER SEEMS FUN TO HIM AND JT DOES NOT MAKE IT THE NEW RIGHT WAY”

owns a bakery with a little library on the side

peter is the co-owner

she never lets james cook dinner bc she does not appreciate the mess he leaves behind

but always let’s him cook bc she knows he loves it

helps james clean the kitchen but ends up becoming a make-out session with her sitting on the countertop and james standing in front of her

hazel thought of orange juice so lily loves orange juice 

makes harrys birthday cakes with james and lets baby hazza help in the tiniest ways

[livesincerely]

it’s so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey’s just gotten out of class—literally just walked out the door—when his phone starts ringing.

“Davey,” Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, “can you swing by the apartment real quick?”

Davey sighs. “Are you locked out of the house again?”

There’s a guilty silence. Then, “Or maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You don’t know.”

“Tony.”

“Charlie’s the one that lost the spare,” Tony capitulates immediately, there’s an indignant “Hey!” somewhere in the background, “and I left my keys in my locker ‘cause I thought Charlie had his—”

There’s a scuffle of noise, then Charlie’s voice breaks in, “—don’t listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didn’t even check—”

“—well, I thought you had yours, didn’t I?—”

“—and he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuff—”

“—that was supposed to be a secret you little shit!”

“—you started it!”

Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them out—they’ll remember him eventually.

In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:

Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again

He’s not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.

jc again?

And you’re going to have to get a new spare made

fuck okay i’ll take care of it. are you heading over?

I’m walking there now

ur the light of my life dave

Davey can’t help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:

how did ur midterm go?

I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!

duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?

Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.

fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?

Come home on time and we’ll see.

u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol

“Davey?” The sound of Charlie’s voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he might’ve been calling Davey’s name for a while. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Davey confirms.

“So are ya comin’ or what?” Tony cuts in, ever impatient. “I’m roasting out here!”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,” Davey responds dryly, “but I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Charlie says.

“I’ll be there soon,” Davey confirms.

“Hurry, will ya? Much longer and I’m gonna get heatstroke and die,” Tony declares.

Davey rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Tony.”

00000

When he arrives at Jack’s building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roof’s overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.

"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"

“Stop losing your keys and you won’t have to wait for me,” Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. “You couldn’t get anyone to buzz you in?”

“Old Man Davis hasn’t gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,” Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, “and Mrs. Ikeda isn’t home.”

“She joined a new book club,” Tony adds. “She won’t be back till late.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask her about it when I see her next,” Davey muses.

He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief.  Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.

“I’ve got a paper due in English tomorrow,” Tony explains. “Can you look it over once it’s finished? Maybe later this evening”

“Of course,” Davey replies. “What’s it on?”

“Lord of the Flies.”

Davey’s nose wrinkles up. “Oh, I hated that one. What’s the essay prompt?”

“Identify Golding’s argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,” Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. “Then make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Good to see that high school literature classes haven’t changed much in the last few years,” he says with a sigh. “How much have you written so far?”

“Oh, I haven’t even started it yet,” Tony casually rebuts.

“Is everything going okay?” Davey asks, frowning slightly. “If things are getting worse we can make an appointment—”

But Tony waives his concerns aside. “Nah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didn’t want to write it.”

“Well, let one of us know if you start having trouble,” Davey says.

"Okay, mom,” Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. He’s already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.

Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchen—he figures there’s no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And he’s right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.

By the time Jack gets home they’re each fully entrenched in different activities: Davey’s washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jack calls jokingly as he enters. There’s a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. “Did you get the tomato—?”

“I got the tomato paste,” Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, “and I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though it’s expensive as all hell.”

“Don’t judge me,” Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. “You spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.”

“I’m just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,” Jack continues. “You can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and it’ll cut down on the grocery bill.”

“Watch it, Kelly,” Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jack’s direction. “Smartasses don’t get dinner.”

“‘s that so?” Jack asks with a grin. “Then why the hell are we still feeding Tony?”

“I heard that,” Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, you were supposed to,” Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jack’s hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, “So, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.”

Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. “You told Jack?”

“Of course he did,” Jack says. “Someone’s gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ain’t gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.”

“Charlie lost the spare,” Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while he’s not in the room to defend himself. “And I didn’t lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.”

“Uh huh, save it for the judge,” Jack responds, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Just know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, it’s coming outta your subway money.”

“Jackie, leave Tony alone,” Davey comments mildly over Tony’s spluttering protests. “He needs to work on that paper and you’re distracting him.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Tony repeats, a little smug. “You’re distracting me.”

Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.

Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know there’s no loitering in my kitchen.”

“Well, I’m nothin’ if not a law abidin’ citizen,” Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. “Where do you want me?”

Davey licks his lips. “Think you can handle browning the hamburger?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Jack responds with a smirk.

Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.

“I’ve gotta head back out this evening,” Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. “Johnson’s got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.”

“How long is the session?” Davey asks. “Here, will you open this?”

“We’re scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.” Jack’s hand brushes against the small of Davey’s back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.

“Are ya spendin’ the night or are ya headin’ back to campus?”

“Depends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,” Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. “We might be at it a while.”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Well, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.”

Davey sets down the spoon he’s holding, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jack,” he says warningly.

“Davey,” Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background there’s the faint sound of Tony muttering, “Jesus, not this again.”

“Jack, I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch.”

“Or you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,” Jack counters as he always does. “I’m not even gonna be here to use it.”

“You’ll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if you’re out late.” Davey argues. “I don’t even have class tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t take the bed I’ll just carry you in there once I get back,” Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. “So you might as well save me the trouble.”

Davey sputters. “That’s not— You can’t just— That only happened a couple of times!” he finally gets out.

"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.

“You sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it keep working?”

“No, see, that’s exactly why I should take the couch,” Davey insists. “It’s not like the sound of you coming in will wake me up—”

Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startled—he hadn’t realized they were standing so close to each other.

“Just take the bed, Davey,” Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. “Please?”

Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. “Fine,” he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. “Just this once.”

"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.

"Oh shit—!"

00000

Later that evening, after they’ve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.

Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often there’s a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraser—Davey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when he’s there next.

Davey notices the time and frowns. “Jack,” he calls out, “it’s already 7:30. If you don’t leave soon you’re gonna be late for work.”

There’s a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.

“Fuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,” Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. “Christ, has anyone seen my—”

“Your wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,” Davey says, pointing. “And take a jacket, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Great, I’m sure the models will love that,” Jack says with a groan. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.”

He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlie’s homework from over his shoulder. “If Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,” Jack tells him. “I probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.”

Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.

“Listen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,” he advises. “The only reason I got through undergraduate writing was ‘cause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.”

“I thought I was s’pposed to always listen to Davey,” Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.

Jack pauses, considering. “Yeah, just do that.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?”

“Jack, you’re gonna be late,” Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jack’s jacket for him.

“Alright, I’m going,” Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.

He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t forget to—” Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.

“Um,” says Charlie.

“Holy shit,” says Tony.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, “I u-uh— I-I d-didn’t mean—“

Davey doesn’t respond. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to—he’s frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, “gottagoseeyoulaterbye,” and bolts out the front door.

Davey’s not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.

“Davey?” Charlie asks hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes it’s coming from him.

"...What just happened?"

[pixiegrl]

how ABOUT for the malum “I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didn’t want to wake you.” :-) some soft morning cuteness love u

Mandie! Hilariously enough I wrote a Malum piece to this prompt back in August and this is a pseudo sequel to that. Please enjoy for @blackbutterfliescal and @devilatmydoor celebration for Michael’s bday! 

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625850

Michael goes to roll over and finds that he can’t. Opening his eyes reveals that it’s because Calum is sleeping on his arm. Specifically, he’s curled up, snuggling into Michael’s side and snoring slightly in his sleep. Calum has one arm thrown over Michael’s chest, face pressed into Michael’s neck. It’s making Michael overly warm, pressed this close, but he doesn’t want to wake Calum up and disturb him. Michael knows it’s his turn to make breakfast, has a whole plan for what to do that involves pancakes and the fancy espresso that Calum likes but he can’t be bothered to move when Calum’s like this. He looks sleep soft and comfortable, burrowed into Michael’s neck, Duke curled up behind his knees, Moose and South draped over their feet. It’s rare to get mornings like this, living in their own bubble of domesticity. Mornings like this make Michael think about marriage, about being able to live like this forever. Logically, he knows that he and Calum are forever, that they’re going to get married at some point (especially since their conversation before Luke and Ashton’s wedding) but sometimes Michael gets nervous. He gets worried that eventually Calum will get bored of him, his late nights and video games and stupid brain that gets a little broken sometimes and tells him he’s not good enough. Calum’s his best friend though, knows Michael better than he knows himself, always knows how to pull Michael back from the edge. He’s never tired of Michael in all the years that he’s known him. Calum is Michael’s rock, his constant, even when Michael’s at his worst. Calum is sunshine and light and Michael adores him. 

Calum huffs, burrowing further into Michael’s chest. Michael snorts, reaching a hand up to play with Calum’s hair. Michael knows they need to get up, set to meet with Luke and Ashton, discuss band plans and tour breaks and the honeymoon they wanna take and trips back to see all their families. Michael knows they’re going to be running late if he doesn’t wake Calum up but he doesn’t have the heart to. Calum looks so peaceful like this, curled up with the dogs. It seems a shame to walk Calum up. 

Michael allows another few minutes of Calum curled up before he checks the time and realizes that they need to get up now or they’ll be really late. 

“Cal. Sweetie, you gotta get up,” Michael says, jostling Calum’s shoulder. Calum mumbles, stirring and opening his eyes. 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“We have to get up to meet the guys.” 

“Too comfortable.” 

“Well, my arm is asleep.” 

“Hmmm. What about breakfast?” Calum says sleepily, turning his head to look at Michael. 

“I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Sap. Now I have to get up and make breakfast.” 

“Hey! I help!” 

“No you don’t. You distract me,” Calum says, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up in bed. Duke grumbles his protest at the shift in position, moving away and whining. South perks up, realizing that Calum and Michael are awake, bumping against Michael’s hand until he starts to pet him. 

Calum rubs at his eyes, stretching and popping his back slightly before rolling out of bed. He turns to look at Michael. 

“I’m going to make pancakes. Maybe I’ll let you have some if you come help,” He winks, making his way out of the bedroom. Michale sighs, heaving himself out of bed and following after Calum, dogs close at his heels. 

They fall into their easy routine, a simple dance around the kitchen as they gather the supplies they need for their meal, finding their pancake mix and chocolate chips and coffee. Calum starts the espresso machine, grabbing the pan he uses to cook while Michael fills the dog dishes, making sure they have enough water while they’re eating.

Calum hums while he starts cooking, mixing the batter and spooning some out into the pan, watching it cook. Michael comes up behind Calum, looping his arms around his waist and resting his head on Calum’s shoulder while he cooks. 

“See? You are distracting,” Calum says, teasing in his tone. Michael giggles, pressing a kiss to Calum’s cheek just to have him swat halfheartedly at him. Michael laughs, trying to plant more kisses on Calum, dodging each of his attempts at smacking him. Eventually Michael retreats, lest the pancakes burn, and goes about managing the coffee, pouring it into their favorite mugs and getting the milk. Calum finishes up the cooking, grabbing the plates and taking them to the table, where Michael has set out the silverware and syrup. 

They settle into eating, quiet as they chew, dogs coming to sit at their heels to whine for little bits. Michael watches Calum, lit up by the glow of the early morning sun through the kitchen window. It bathes him in light, makes me look ethereal and suddenly Michael gets it when Ashton calls Luke golden and Apollo and the sun. Calum is Michael’s sun, the center of his universe. Even when Michael is unsure of himself, he’s always sure of Calum, steady, resilient Calum. It overwhelms Michael suddenly, the love and devotion he feels for Calum. 

“Marry me,” Michael says. Calum chokes on his next bite of pancake, coughing as he reaches for his coffee, chugs some of it, still coughing. 

“What?”

“Marry me, Cal. I love you. You’re my soulmate, you’re literal the other half of my soul. You know every part of me, the good, the bad, and all the mundane shit. You remember my favorite candy, where I leave my glasses, the last time I drank water. You know me in ways I don’t even think I know myself. I’ve known you were forever since the day we met and I don’t want to wait any longer. Let’s get married,” Michael says. Calum sits there, blinking at him. Dread feels Michael. Maybe he’s misread all of this.

“Fuck you Michael I wanted to do it first.”

“What?”

“Propose. I wanted to propose first. I even bought a ring and I had a whole plan. I was waiting for our anniversary. I had a whole thing planned with a song and photos and a whole thing. You can’t propose first what the fuck am I suppose to do now?” Calum says, brandishing his fork rather aggressively in Michael’s direction.

Michael registers what Calum’s said, face breaking out in a grin.

“Oh, so you will marry me?”

“Absolutely not. Where’s my ring for starters?” Calum says, grinning. Michael rolls his eyes.

“Well I don’t have one. This was spur of the moment.”

“Not real until you get a ring. Means I still have a chance to propose first,” Calum takes a bite of pancake, raising his eyebrows at Michael.

“No, this totally counts. I asked you to marry me.”

“Sorry, I actually have a ring, so I will be proposing first it seems.”

“Not if I go buy a ring today.”

“Well, now I’m not letting you out of my sight. And don’t even think of getting Luke or Ashton involved. You know Luke’s shit at keeping secrets and Ashton likes me the most,” Calum points out. He’s smiling widely enough that it looks like he has dimples, eyes crinkled at the corner in delight. 

“If you’re so keen on proposing first, why don’t you?” 

Calum balks, “I have a whole plan. For our anniversary.”  

“Since I’ve clearly messed it up, do it now. Our anniversary is in a month and I’ll be expecting it now. You can do your whole plan then and we can publicly announce it to everyone, but I want you to do it now. Just us,” Michael says. Calum pauses, chewing on his lip. He sighs heavily, pretending to be put out as he stands up. 

“Close your eyes.” 

“What?” 

“Close your eyes till I get back. At least give me something,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. Michael does the same thing, but compiles, closing his eyes. He listens to Calum’s footsteps as they leave the kitchen and again as they come back. They stop at the edge of the table and there’s a pause before Calum clears his throat. 

“You can open them now.” 

Michael does. Calum’s down on one knee, small velvet box open in his hand, putting the ring on display. It’s a gunmetal grey, black gemstone resting in the center, glittering. Calum looks a little teary, staring up at Michael and Michael can feel his own tears at the corner of his eyes. 

“Michael, you’re it for me. You’re the light of my day, the other half, my soulmate. You never fail to fill me with happiness, to brighten my day. I can’t dream of being anywhere else, loving anyone else, the way I love you and getting to share my life with you. I love you and I want to marry you. Even when you keep me up at night with your video games and your cold feet and your terrible sleeping habits. Michael Gordon Clifford, will you marry me?” Calum says, holding the ring up. Michael feels like he’s choking, tears at the back of his throat. All he can do is nod, letting Calum slide the ring home on his finger, pulling him up into a kiss. 

“I win,” Calum says against Michael’s lips. 

“Dork. Maybe I’ll get you a ring anyway, propose on our anniversary and steal the spotlight,” Michael laughs. Calum snorts. 

“Guess we’ll just have to be dorks together forever.” 

“Guess so,” Michael says, pulling Calum onto his lap and snuggling into him. He doesn’t care that he’s technically lost the engagement game. He can still propose on their anniversary, put it up publicly first. Michael looks down at his ring, smiling when it catches the light. As long as he can marry Calum, he’s happy. 

[willow-salix]

Thought I'd share one of my isolation updates. I haven't had much time to join in with the #irrelief of @gumnut-logic because of these so I decided to go down the list and try to fit some of the requested prompts into this series of shorts. This is the one that I think Nutty requested, fish and chips on the beach. If anyone wants to give me some prompts or things they want the boys to do during lockdown, please feel free to send them in. The rest can be read on Ao3.

Day 47 of isolation on Tracy Island and I walked into the kitchen to find a bowl of fish staring at me.

"New pets?" I asked Gordon.

"If they are I really should have looked after them better," he answered, poking at the ice that they sat on. "We went fishing this morning."

"I never would have guessed."

"We thought we could have a fish dinner on the beach tonight, you know, barbie and beer, it'll be the best fish you've ever tasted."

I made a face. "I'm not really a big fish fan, I prefer them battered and wrapped in paper, not judging me for wanting another cup of coffee."

"You don't like fish?" You'd swear I'd just told him I hate puppies.

I shrugged.

"You have to like fish."

"What, is that a law now? The law of the island?"

"Yes."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm gonna be breaking some laws then, bub." I pushed the bowl aside with a shudder of disgust and reached for the coffee pot.

"Come on, live a little, just try them."

"So when you ask me to try something I'm supposed to agree but I ask you to eat a Yorkshire pudding and you pitch a fit."

"Thats different."

"Why?"

"Because you've heard of a fish."

I tried to argue his logic but it was really hard, so as I always do in cases like this, I went on the defensive.

"Nope, batter and chips or nothing."

"Chips? Why would you eat chips with fish?"

"Because you do. With salt and vinegar on them."

"Won't they get soggy? And what flavour?"

"Flavour?" my brain whirled for a second before I caught his meaning. "Not crisps, chips, like fries, but fat ones."

He still looked baffled but pulled himself together. "OK, how about we do both? You make your battered stuff and your weird fries and I'll do my grilled fish and we'll see what's the best."

I thought about it for a moment or two, then held out my hand. "You're on."

“You have to help prepare them though,"he threw in just as he grabbed mine and shook.

“What? No!”

“The deal is struck,” the little sod grinned. Dammit.

Half an hour of convincing later and he had me standing beside him with a fish of my own and a sharp knife, neither of which I particularly wanted.

“So first we’re gonna scrape all the scales off, using the tip and flat edge of our knife,” he got to work, rubbing at the fish as if he were shaving it. Just like doing my legs, I could do that.

“I don’t want skin on my fish, I reminded him, not if it's gonna be battered.”

“We’ll get to that later, just get the scales off first.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, but did as I was told. We had some kitchen towel wrapped around the fish’s tail which made it a lot easier to hold but it was still icky and I knew the worst was still to come.

Gordon rinsed his under the tap and took a pair of kitchen scissors, I followed.

“Right, see this hole here?” he pointed with the tip of the scissors and I nodded. “That’s its butt. Stick your scissors in there-”

“I’m out!” I declared, dropping the fish in the sink. “Nope, I’d rather lose, but you know full well that no one else would blame me so you wouldn't get any glory from it anyway.”

I left the kitchen and went to hide with someone that would be nicer to me. I found Virgil first and decided he’d do. I flumped down next to him at the piano.

“You smell,” he greeted me.

“Thanks, love you too.”

“No, not you personally, you smell like fish.”

“Gordon tried to get me to poke its bum hole so I left.”

Virgil blinked, although he managed not to mess up, his fingers still dancing effortlessly over the keys, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“Neither did I, so I noped out of the situation and ran.”

“Good choice. He’ll end up doing yours for you anyway, he always does. He can’t stand to see fish prepared wrong so if you don't want to do it, just do it badly and then he’ll take over.”

“Pro tip!” I nodded. “Thanks for that.”

“Welcome.”

I reached out a finger to plonk a key, because it was just too tempting.

“Go wash your hands, you aren’t stinking up my piano.”

I lifted my hands up innocently. “Think he’ll be done yet?”

“Probably, he’s pretty quick at it, but I’d give it anoth-”

“Stop hiding, I’ve finished the fish,” Gordon called up the stairs to the lounge.

“See?”

“Woop!” I jumped back up, using his shoulder as leverage , much to his disgust. “We’re having a competition.”

“Of course you are, but if it involves food I’ll happily judge.”

I did that pointy finger, winky eye, clicky tongue thing in answer as I trotted back down the stairs.

True to his word he had the fish all prepared, he’d even fileted and skinned mine. He might be a pain in the butt most days but he was a good boy where it counted.

“I need beer,” I announced.

“Is the thought of touching fish really that bad? It’s only 2pm.”

“For the batter,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Why does everyone think I want to drink all day every day? I’m only drinking on a saturday night for the quiz.”

“Because it's fun to watch you get annoyed when we say it,” he shrugged. See? He’s a sod.

I stole one of his beers for that comment, and after checking the recipe, assembled my ingredients and began to mix flour, beer, sparkling water, spices and baking powder.

“So you're basically making a cake for your fish?” Virgil asked, wandering through to get a drink.

“No, I’m battering it, you cretin. Fish and chips, the english food of summer and beach trips. Squidward wanted fish on the beach, that's what you're getting.”

“She means fries,” Gordon added just in case Virgil didnt understand me either. “I’m doing grilled fish and vegetable kebabs.”

“Wanna help me peel potatoes?” I asked Virgil, who was the quickest peeler I knew.

“Sure.” Bless his chonky heart, he’s always ready to help, especially if food is involved.

Virgil peeled and I chopped, making a mound of fat chips which I threw into a pot of water to par-boil ready for frying later.

Gordon had barely done anything to his fish, just rubbed some seasoning and oil into the skins and laid some lemon slices on top. Apparently simple was key, I told him that was a good thing if he was in charge. He threw a slice of lemon at me.

We stored all the prepared food in the second fridge and wandered off to wait for evening.

At around seven that night we had everyone assembled outside, some around the barbecue and some just lounging around waiting to be fed.

They had one of those fancy pants grills that have two gas rings on one side, which was needed for me to heat up two massive pans of oil. I had a flashback to the donut incident and was very grateful that Grandma wasn't involved this time and that she hadn’t fed me cooking sherry.

I had a few near misses with splattering oil and it took me a while to get the dip and slip action just right ( that was what I was calling the dipping in batter to coat the fish and then letting it slip and slide into the oil) but we got there in the end.

The chips were frying nicely and we’d managed to get vinegar from a jar of pickled onions, which was perfect for me as I prefer onion vinegar on my chips anyway.

Gordon had these weird fish cages, where he trapped the fish inside and just turned the whole thing to cook the other side instead of flipping.

It was supposed to be a competition but since it was just the two of us I obviously hadn’t triggered his competitive Tracy gene which is only activated in the presence of his siblings. It was actually quite nice to chill with him for a bit, we got into a nice rhythm and managed not to get in each others way too much.

When he was busy with his fish and his veggie kababs were getting a little too charred I turned them all for him, he in turn rescued a batch of chips as I had my hands covered in batter. See, we could be civilised.

We dished out food like it was a canteen, everyone lining up with plates. We didn't want people to have to choose whose food they wanted to try so we gave them some of everything and then all trooped down to the beach where Scott and Virgil had already lit the firepit.

Gordon's fish was ok, but I didn't like the fact that it still looked like a fish, its eyes were staring at me and I was plucking around its bones, which just wasn't for me, but the veggie kebabs were nice so I gave Scott the fish to finish.

I looked over to see Alan holding the entire piece of battered fillet in his hand and biting into it like it was a slice of pizza...I honestly don't know how his brain works sometimes.

“Back home we have tiny wooden forks for the fish and chips,” I told him, which blew his mind. I had to get my phone out and show him pictures of them.

“So, who’s fish was the best?” Gordon asked once everyone was done eating, although Alan was still doing his impression of the seagulls from Nemo and snaffling left overs with little yelps of “Mine” every time someone abandoned a plate. I was currently feeding him chips as he sat patiently with his mouth open.

“I like them both,” Jeff hedged. “But the beer batter was interesting.”

“Batter is a little too crispy for my tastes,” John mused, nibbling on a piece of batter he’d picked off my plate.

“I like the fat fries,” Alan mumbled around a mouthful of said chips.

“I liked the lemony taste of the fish,” Virgil added.

“So who won?” I asked.

Everyone shrugged.

We decided in the end that we didn't care who won, it had just been fun to cook and hang out on the beach and chill. Sometimes that's all you need in life, sorry we weren't more exciting but this is just a normal family that is coping with things the way that everyone else is.

They want to be out there helping people and doing things like normal, but they can't and it’s definitely starting to impact on them a lot, so if chilled days and enforced rest is all we can do, then were going to make the most of it.

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

Next

Previous

AO3

...

“shit. Fuck.”  Remus curses, taking off, banging against the wall as he slides back into his room, instantly atop the bed and letting Roman cling to him, murmuring apologies and soft words, rubbing his back.

 “Shh, shhh, it’s ok, Ro, it’s ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s alright roro.”

 “Ree…r-ree” He strokes his hand through Roman’s hair, rocking and humming quietly, slowly bring Roman out of whatever nightmare world he’d been in. He can feel Roman’s shaking stopping, his breath evening out.

 “you back, brobro?” He asks, smiling gently as he sees Roman’s clear brown eyes looking back up at him.

 “yeah. S-sorry. I j-just panicked.”

 “it’s ok, Ro. It’s alright. I’m sorry I was gone, I didn’t mean to scare you. I had… my own little breakdown last night.”

 “you did? Are, you ok?” He snorts out a laugh, kissing the top of Roman’s head.

 “me and Logan talked it out. Well, some of it. We’re…better. And they have coffee, so.” He shrugs, and Roman lets out a small laugh, eyes bright as he pulls away, rubbing his arm a bit self consciously.

“Kiddos? You two alright? I heard a scream.” Remus jumps at the voice from the doorway, Roman laughing at him. He replies by sticking out his tongue, slipping off the bed to his feet.

 “We’re fine, Feathers. Roman just had a nightmare, and I haven’t slept in… hm, twenty six and a half hours?”

 “What? That’s not healthy! Remus!” Patton scolds, and he just shrugs.

 “It’s not the longest I’ve gone. Just over three days is my record, I think. Though they did something to me that time.”

 “That was the thing that made your veins all orange. When you finally passed out, you slept for almost two straight days.” Roman answers.

 “Oh kiddos. I’m sorry.” Remus looks at him, a bit puzzled.

 “Why? It’s not like you did anything to us.” He replies simply, turning back to Roman. “You wanna go get something to eat?” Roman rolls his eyes.

 “I know you just want your coffee, Ree.”  

 “You don’t know! Maybe I just wanna take care of my baby brother!” Roman laughs, letting Remus wrap an arm around his shoulders to support him as he stands.

 “I’m only three years younger than you. That’s not that big a difference.” He points out, and Remus shrugs.

 “Still younger than me! And we do still need to eat.” He helps Roman settle on the couch, before practically skipping over to the counter, inhaling deeply the smell of roasted coffee. Oh, it’s music to his nose, and he picks up the steaming mug, barely restraining himself from chugging the whole thing immediately, instead taking a small sip, nearly moaning in pure indulgence as he sinks into a stool, lost in a world of beautiful bitterness with just a touch of cream.

 “enjoying yourself?” Virgil asks, and he can hear the smirk in the Wraith’s voice, as he flips him off, figuring that’s a pretty universal gesture. He’s proven right at Virgil’s sharp laugh, opening his eyes in time to see him slap a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter.

 “Play nice kiddos.” Patton says lightly, starting to pull ingredients out of the cupboards. Remus scrunches his brows, trying to catalogue the ingredients. He gasps, legs kicking in excitement.

 “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He yells, making Virgil jump and hiss, Roman peek over the top of the couch, and Patton let out a squeak.

 “Language, kiddo.”

 “ISTHATPANCAKEBATTERAREYOUMAKINGPANCAKES?” Rushes out of his mouth, as he rockets out of his seat, around the counter, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Can I help?” He asks, excitedly, before flinching back, realizing what he’d just done, shouting, talking out of turn, asking for something, and he stills, bites his tongue, looking down and away. “sorry. I don’t… you don’t have to. I shouldn’t.”

 “It is pancakes, Remus. And you are definitely welcome to help. I have the recipe memorized, but you can pour and mix, if you want!” He steels a glance up. Patton’s face is soft and genuine, not a hint of anger or malice, and he relaxes slightly, though he doesn’t get as loud or bouncy as he was earlier.  

 Patton frowns slightly, at his sudden quietness, his concern growing as he measures out the ingredients then lets Remus dump them into a bowl. He’s careful and slow, frequently glancing at Patton to make sure he isn’t fucking anything up, containing his chaos and stirring carefully, making sure not to get a single drop of batter on the counter.

 He passes the bowl off to Patton, standing at the edge of the counter, hands folded behind him, trying to contain his need to sway, flinching back at the sizzle of the batter in the pan.

 For a moment he is somewhere else. For a moment that sizzling heat is against his palm, the smell of burning flesh filling the room, his own skin smelling like cooked meat, making him sick, nauseas with the searing, endless, burning, that continues even after they take his hand off the hot plate of metal. It’s still bubbling and burning, somehow hurting more as it’s exposed to air, though he only screams when they plunge it into ice water, blacking out from the violent clashing sensations of hot and cold.

 Then he feels something soft and snaps back to himself, realizing he was staring glassy eyed through Patton, and he rubs his hand as he winces, feeling the distant ache of old pain.

 “sorry, I’m sorry. I…” He stutters out, not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for.

 “hey, hey, hey. It’s ok, kiddo. Should we go sit down? I can have Virgil watch the batter, he’s surprisingly good at pancakes.” He shakes his head.

 “it’s fine. I’ll just go sit with Roman. You don’t have to stop, you don’t have to inconvenience yourself.” Patton frowns, and he winces again, because now he’s screwed everything up.

 “it’s not an inconvenience, Remus. I promise. I can show you how to preen my feathers, if you want.” He wants that. They look fluffy and soft and he wants to run his hands through them, but the mere thought scares him. He’ll be too rough, no matter how careful he is, and he’ll hurt Patton, and then Patton will hate him, and Logan will be mad, and Virgil will send him back into that dreamscape hell, and he’ll mess everything up. “remus. You’re not gonna hurt me, ok? I know it.” He shakes his head, stepping back, that strange electricity back in his bones.

 “N-no. I’m fine, thanks. I’m… I’m gonna go try and get some s-sleep actually. That ok, Ro?” He asks, eyes pleading with his brother to say yes, to not ask, to let him go. Roman responds with a ‘we’re talking about this later’ look, but nods, and he lets out a sigh of relief, as he flees back to his room, closing the door and sliding down against it, burying his head in his hands, unwilling to move as he feels himself shaking, losing control of his muscles as he curls tighter.

 It’s so hard. Why is being safe so fucking hard?

…

 He wakes up to the smell of pancakes wafting through his door. He groans, running a hand over his face before he forces himself out of bed, slumping to the living room and flopping face down onto a chair.

 “Good morning, Janus.” He groans in response to Logan’s greeting, not awake enough to summon words.

 “Drama queen. I’m literally a being of darkness. How is it I deal with mornings better than you?” Virgil asks, amusement in his voice.

 “because mornings are cold.” He mumbles.

 “Actually, the ship runs at a steady temperature of seventy five degrees, which is an  optimal temperature for all of our bodies to function at.” Logan answers.

 “Fiiine, then my body is biologically evolved to not fully wake until later in the morning when the sun would have warmed up the cold dessert, allowing for basking and removing the possibility of hypothermia, that Nagas are more susceptible to.” He answers, flipping himself over so he’s laying upside down in the chair, head resting against the floor, legs up the back. “That’s what I was told, anyway.” He grumbles under his breath, soft enough he’s certain no one else hears him, except maybe Roman, who glances at him with a startled look.

 Patton is in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, and Logan is sitting at the counter, flipping through his star atlas, no doubt reading up on distant galaxies and planets, adding his own notes and observations where applicable. Virgil is sipping a mug of coffee, and Roman is looking around at everyone, simply taking everything in, his gaze occasionally landing on the door at the end of the hall, a worried look on his face.

 “Where’s Remus?” He asks, as casually as he can, trying to get a read on the situation. Roman frowns, and Patton shoots him a glance as he flips the last of the pancakes onto a plate.

 “He said he went to get some rest. He hasn’t been sleeping.” Patton replies, in a way that lets Janus know Patton doesn’t fully believe Remus’s excuse, but didn’t want to push.

 “He’s never been good at sleeping. Even before. He went to a specialist, once, but they said he was too young to try any medication, and all the over the counter stuff either didn’t work or gave him nightmares. He used to keep a dream journal. That helped, until… well.” Roman doesn’t have to finish his sentence, they all know what he means.

 Before and After. That’s what life is divided into. Before he was taken, and the After of it all. Janus doesn’t have very much Before, but the brothers do, enough at least to properly mourn what they’d lost. Of course, he had more After than the two of them, though it hadn’t been as rough, as what they’d gone through.

 Still, he knows the fear, how the slightest, most unpredictable thing can send you right back to There, something that was fine one day sends you off the deep end the next, and he still has trouble sleeping, sometimes, though he’s too proud and standoffish, still, to ask for someone to stay.

 He still hasn’t found a word for After the After, for whatever this is, life cruising around on a spaceship with an oddball group of species, it hasn’t been long enough, to give this a name, to hope that it will last longer than the nearly eight years it has, he still can barely think past tomorrow. Still wakes up and forgets where he is, sometimes.

 “Alright. I’ll go bring him some food, see if he’s still up. He should probably eat something.” He gets to his feet, catching Roman’s grateful relief as he passes, and he squeezes his shoulder gently, before sweeping into the kitchen and grabbing a plate of pancakes, drizzling syrup on top, before ruffling the edge of Patton’s wing, ducking his attempt to catch him in a retaliatory hug as he darts around Logan, using him as a buffer.

 “Please do not include me in whatever game this is, I would prefer not to lose my place.” Logan says dryly, making Patton giggle. Janus doesn’t miss the slight twitch of Logan’s lips at the sound, and he grins too.

 “Virgil, make sure Logan doesn’t start anything on fire. You know how careless he likes to be around open flame.” He calls as he starts down the hall, Virgil snickering as Logan splutters indignantly about how he follows proper fire safety procedures, and the one time he makes a camp fire just happens to be when the winds rolled in and the camp went up in flames!

[meganshinsou-tm]

Sugarcoated. (m)

↳ chapter sixteen: unnie

❧ genre: pro-hero hitoshi, adoptive siblings, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Alright cutie, what flavor? Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla or funfetti?"

Eri gasped and looked up at you with glimmering ruby eyes, "Funfetti! I love the pretty colors!"

You smiled and nodded as you held her hand and walked about the baking isle, gathering all the ingredients needed to make a super colorful and sweet cake. Hitoshi trailed behind pushing the grocery cart that was full of food for the week. Now, he let you take the reigns since he knew absolutely nothing about baking.

If it were up to him he would've just grabbed a box of pre-made cake mix but you didn't do that. Instead you gathered up baking powder, salt and sugar, flour and a lot of sprinkles. You also grabbed other items to make icing, to which again he would've chosen jar icing. He could tell that from now on, when he wanted something sweet that he wasn't going to get it from a box, you'd die before doing such a thing.

Together the three of you made your way around the store for any other items before going to wait in line at the cash register. You picked Eri up and swung her around in circles as you stood there, making her giggle and squeal. Hitoshi watched on with a big smile, thinking of how he could totally get used to something like this in the future. For now though, he liked that this arrangement was only temporary, he was selfish, no lie, and wanted you all to himself for a while.

Holding Eri on your hip you laughed and brushed her hair out of her blushing face. She worked on catching her breath from all the giggles and touched your cheek. "Your scratch is almost gone, that's good."

You nodded and grabbed her hand from your face, "Mhm, and it's all thanks to Toshi. He's been great at taking care of me!"

"You can expect your bill in the mail!" He smirked and leaned over, placing a kiss to your cheek.

You rolled your eyes and nudged him with your elbow. Eri giggled, small fingers twirling and playing with your hair, she had a look on her face that made you believe she had a question so you asked if she needed something.

"I was just wondering; can I call you Unnie?"

Hitoshi quirked a purple brow and smirked. "What are you even saying weirdo?"

You slapped the back of his head, making him chuckle and hold his hands up as a type of apology and proceeded to explain to Hitoshi. 

"It's just a Korean term for a girl older than you, like a big sister."

"Eri how do you even know Korean slang?" Hitoshi asked with a bewildered look.

You and the little girl both looked at him with serious as can be faces. 

"BTS," you replied in unison with a nonchalant tone as if this were something completely normal.

Hitoshi smirked and started to place all the groceries on the register belt, mumbling a tease under his breath. You turned your foot up behind you and kicked his butt playfully before walking to the front of the register counter, leaving your boyfriend to do all the work.

"Eri you can call me whatever you want. If Unnie makes you happy then I'm fine with it, I actually like it to be honest!"

Eri smiled and hugged your neck, "Okay then, from now on you're my Unnie!"

Once you got home, everyone helped to unload groceries and put them up. Hitoshi started on dinner, you and Eri started on dessert. While the oven pre-heated, you mixed together dry ingredients and set them aside to work on mixing the other items. You held the electric mixer as Eri added butter to your dry ingredients, laughing when she straight up dumped a chunk of it into the cake flour causing a cloud of the powder to envelop her face. 

Alternately she'd add things as you mixed them, sometimes messing up but it was okay and it made your time fun. Hitoshi leaned over the counter and watched as you struggled together sometimes with the mixing, having to switch between making sure you did mix while Eri helped and you sometimes took over to make sure certain things were done right so the cake would cook properly. You had to ask Hitoshi for help at one point.

"Isn't there an easier way to do this? You know to mix and add at the same time?"

You laughed and wiped your cheek, leaving a streak of flour on it. "Yeah, it's called a stand-mixer."

You released Hitoshi from his duty as you and Eri continued and got your baking pans ready. The lavenderette knit his brows and questioned why you didn't have one if you had all these other baking utensils.

"Because, I never had an extra $300 to just throw down for one! I've managed just fine so far, so leave us alone and get our food done!"

Shinsou laughed and kissed your cheek and ruffled Eri's hair. Quickly, he snuck the tip of his pinky into the raw finished cake batter, snickering and sucking it clean as Eri whined and slapped him.

"I hope you get sohmanela!"

You and Hitoshi snorted at her adorable attempt at the big word. 

Eri had the honors of dumping all the sprinkles into the batter and had a little too much fun as she piled them high. The cake would definitely be colorful! After you poured the batter into the pans Hitoshi helped you place them into the oven and set a timer. You and Eri gave each other messy high fives, causing flour to cloud the air.

"Now, time to make icing!"

As you and Eri made colorful bright pink icing, Hitoshi finished dinner and set it on low to keep it warm. He walked over to the other side of the counter where you both sat that morning and grabbed his camera from out of his bag. He wasn't going to miss capturing these overly sweet and messy moments.

Between shots, he'd steal dollops of the icing, causing you and Eri to chew him out. Finally you had enough and stuck your own finger into the icing, getting a big dollop of it on the end of your digit. You offered it to Hitoshi with a sweet smile, to which he got a picture of. He leaned over the counter to remove the icing from your finger but once he was close enough you smirked and turned your finger over, smearing the pink glob across the bridge of his nose and cheek.

"Oh you're dead!" Hitoshi chuckled and placed the camera on the counter.

You stuck out your tongue, dodging as Hitoshi sprinted around the counter and lunged after you. He was quick to turn on his feet and chase you down the hall, catching you in no time and tackling you to the floor. His knees straddled your hips and his calves held your shins down while he pinned your forearms to the floor.

"Eri! Bring me the biggest spoonful of icing, Unnie wants some of it!"

"Hah, she won't turn on me!" You replied with a smile.

"Wanna bet?"

Only a few seconds passed and you heard little footsteps coming your way, you were positive Eri was coming to your rescue. That was until she knelt down next to both of you with a literal spoonful of pink icing. 

You've never felt so betrayed.

"Here you go Unnie!" She innocently said as she went to hand you the spoon. She truly believed the lie from Hitoshi's mouth.

"I'll take that for her Eri, thank you. How about you go and pick out a movie for us to watch?" Hitoshi suggested as he took the spoon.

Eri smiled and turned around to skip back down the hall, leaving you on your own. Hitoshi smiled and wasted no time spreading the thick icing all over your neck, chin and mouth. You squirmed under him, laughing and whining at the weird feeling of the sweet substance.

"Toshi! You're making a mess!"

"Don't worry sweetness, I'm gonna clean it," he smirked and dropped the spoon on the ground.

Leaning down, Hitoshi dragged his tongue up and across the expanse of your neck, licking away the sweet icing that dressed it. You went from whining to softly moaning as his warm muscle cleaned your skin of the pink substance. When he got to one part that had a legit lump of the icing, his lips latch around your neck as his tongue scooped it off and he lightly sucked when he released you. He continued this torture up to your chin, making you bite your lip and taste the amount that was on your mouth. One of his hands released your arms and cupped the side of your neck. You weren't even thinking of trying to throw him off. You just laid there under his total control and let Hitoshi lick you clean. Once he got to your mouth his violet eyes sparkled at you and he licked his lips with a hum. You looked back at him with glossy eyes as you panted under him.

"Looks like I'm making more than one mess!" He chuckled and licked your top lip.

You whined as he took his time, pulling back each time you tried to lick or kiss his own lips. "Toshi-ah!"

Shinsou smirked down at you, brushing his thumb over the last bit of icing on your lips, "You know, I kind of like your whining now. It's cute and sort of sexy." The hero placed his thumb to your lips and your (e/c) eyes looked at him as if waiting for a command, to which he gladly gave. "Open your mouth cutie, taste what you made."

Smiling, you did as told and Hitoshi inserted his thumb softly onto your tongue. Your lips wrapped around his digit as your tongue swirled and collected the pink icing, sucking his thumb clean. Hitoshi tightened his grip on the wrist he still held and he groaned lowly. He lowered his face to yours and replaced his thumb with his lips, finally kissing you. 

You hummed as he rewarded you, your free hand cupping the back of his head and tangling into his purple locks. You gripped tightly, turning his head to the side and making him growl. Your tongue escaped from your mouth and licked clean the streak of icing he still had on his face.

Right as Hitoshi chuckled and bit your cheek playfully, the timer in the kitchen went off. The ringing of it breaking both of your thoughts. Hitoshi still kept his teeth latched onto your cheek, growling in aggravation. You giggled and pushed at his chest.

"I need to go get that Toshi, before it burns."

Finally he released you, cheek and all, and stood to his feet. Holding out his hand you took it and he helped you up, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. "We're finishing this later sweetness!"

After dinner, you all had a piece of cake, Eri had two. As she took a bath, you and Hitoshi put up all the leftovers and cleaned the kitchen. When you were done, you leaned back against the counter and sighed. Hitoshi smiled and dried his hands, tossing the hand towel to the side and placing himself in front of you. His hands flattened on the counter behind you and you kissed each other as your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Man, I'm exhausted!"

Hitoshi chuckled and brushed your hair out of your face, resting his hand on your cheek. "Does that mean you had a good weekend?"

"I did! It was definitely one of the best! Thank you again so much for taking me to Disney. Thank you for everything you've gotten for me, even though you didn't need to. And most of all thank you for taking care of me."

"It's my pleasure cutie, I'll always be here to take care of and spoil you. You deserve it all and more!"

With a smile you wrapped your arms around Hitoshi tighter and hugged him close. His own arms wrapped around you and he kissed your head. You sighed and squeezed him, inhaling his scent and melting into his hold. "I love you so much Hitoshi."

"I love you too more. How about after we get the kid to bed, we take a bath and I take care of you some more."

"Aww Toshi, that sounds amazing!

Not much longer after, you were drying Eri off and helping her into her pj’s. She started to doze off as you brushed out her hair, a cute yawn falling from her little lips. You smiled and put the brush down on the sink counter and scooped Eri into your arms and carried her to the bedroom. She nuzzled her cheek on your shoulder, her hands playing with your hair as you rubbed her back on the way. You pulled back the covers and laid her down, tucking her in tight. She smiled sleepily and rubbed her ruby eyes.

"Hitoshi should be in here soon, he just had to go take out the trash. Do you need anything else before we tell you goodnight?"

"Will you sing to me? That song you were singing earlier to the baby?"

"Of course I will."

Hitoshi made his way down the hall and to Eri's room, he could hear your voice softly singing. Smiling, he placed himself against the door-frame, watching as your hand rubbed Eri's back and you lulled her to sleep. Shinsou couldn't believe how naturally this came to you and how much his little sister already adored you. 

It made him think of your own family and how you mentioned that you take care of your niece and nephew from time to time. You had yet to speak of them anymore since that night at Aizawa's. The hero didn't want you to neglect your own loved ones all for him and Eri and he truly would love to know more about your own family so he figured he'd talk to you later about it.

Walking into the room quietly he sat on the other side of the bed. Looking over, Hitoshi could see Eri was passed out, clutching her Chimmy plushie close. You looked over to him as you finished out the lullaby you had sang earlier. 

Hitoshi was head over heels for your voice. It was angelic and like velvet and the way you looked when singing was something else. He could tell you weren't really singing to your full potential though, which only made him want to experience more. Hitoshi wanted to see you lose yourself in one really good song and take note of your expressions, if your eyes closed or hands moved, how your mouth would work. The artist in him was craving to witness such an act.

You leaned over and placed a kiss to Eri's head, tucking her blankets tighter around her little body. Hitoshi leaned over and kissed her as well and pet her hair. You both quietly said goodnight as you turned off her lamp, leaving her room dark except for the pink night light that showered her walls with hearts. Hitoshi took your hand and you both walked out, quietly shutting the door behind you. 

Immediately you made your way to his bathroom where he ran the bath water. Hitoshi took it upon himself to slowly strip you of your clothes, placing kisses on every inch of your skin as it was exposed. You removed his clothes in return, your fingers trekking down his muscular arms and chest as he pulled your face to his and kissed you.

Hitoshi helped you into the tub and you sat between his legs, letting him get to work on rubbing and massaging your shoulders and back. Hums and sighs would escape from your chest as his fingers diligently put pressure on all the right spots and his lips showered your skin in kisses. Next, Hitoshi washed your hair and cleaned your skin, refusing to let you even lift a finger. The hero really enjoyed just spoiling you for no reason at all other than he loved you. Once done, he sank back against the tub and you turned to face him, laying your cheek on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

After all the pampering he did you were completely relaxed and like putty in his hands. Hitoshi placed loving kisses to your head as one hand gently rubbed up and down your spine. Your own arms were wrapped around him, your fingers caressing his lower back under the warm water. The two of you sat there in silence for a good ten minutes as he loved and held you. He could tell that second by second as he was bathing you that you were becoming more and more sleepier. You had barely said a word the entire time and just hummed and smacked your lips here and there. Shinsou found your sleepy self utterly adorable, like some kind of puppy.

Your head moved against Hitoshi's chest and you smiled softly at him. Hand coming up to touch his face and slowly drag down his neck until it rested on his chest by your cheek. Hitoshi noticed how heavy your eyes were getting and how your breathing was becoming slower and steadier as you lazily smiled.

"You're so wonderful Toshi, like really. You're overly sweet, kind, caring, really beautiful and just – I don't even know how to express how much I love you."

Hitoshi chuckled and kissed your forehead, "You're exhausted and have a case of word vomit sweetheart, I should get you out and into bed."

"I'm serious Hitoshi," you shook your head and yawned, face nuzzling into his chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you, if you didn't ask me to take this job when you did ... I don't know how much longer I would've lasted in this world."

Shinsou's purple brows furrowed and he held you tighter, in the state you were in right now he couldn't really tell if you were joking or not. "What do you mean by that (Y/N)?"

You yawned and clutched Hitoshi closer, cradling into his body. "What do I mean by what Toshi?"

Frowning, Hitoshi realized you were definitely too far gone now as you had quickly forgotten what you had even said. He smiled and kissed your head, whispering that it was nothing. 

Carefully the hero sat forward, his hand cupping and keeping your head on his chest, his arms tightly holding you as he stood from his position and removed the both of you from the tub. Grabbing towels, Hitoshi wrapped one around you and sat you on the bathroom counter, working on drying your body as you were half asleep but conscious enough to hold yourself up and listen to his instructions. After he dried himself off he carried you into his bedroom and placed you on the bed before digging for one of his own shirts and briefs. You whined and groaned as he moved you around only making him chuckle. Finally he laid you down in the bed and under the covers before going to put his own pair of briefs on.

"Toshi-ah! I'm cold~"

"Oh my god, you're so needy," he groaned playfully as he turned off the lights and crawled into the bed beside you.

"It's your fault!" You replied with a sleepy smile.

Instantly you wrapped and molded to his side, your legs interlocking and your arms buried between his chest and yours as you burrowed into him and the covers. Shinsou wrapped around you as well, one hand on the small of your back and gently rubbing as the other played in your hair and he pressed his cheek to your forehead before gently pulling your face up to place a kiss on your lips. You hummed as you kissed back, lazily biting on his lip when he broke the kiss. 

Shinsou tucked the blankets tighter around the two of you and nuzzled his own face into your hair as he pulled you back into him. The two of you both falling fast asleep in no time.