#throw it in a pan until fully cooked

[alvojake]

Until Forever | P.JS

↳ this is an add on to this fic here!! you do not have to read it to read this one, but it would make more sense if you do!!

「pairing」 : fiance!jay x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : it's father's day and you and your daughter make a secret plan to surprise jay with a nice dinner to come home; however, neither of you had expected him to return home early, but it doesn't change much. jay is just happy to have his little family together for a special day.

「genre」 : fluff... like tooth-rotting fluff, dad!jay

「warnings」 : kissing, mentions of pregnancy, petnames (baby, babe, princess, love, baby girl, bug, sweets...), down bad jay, minor cussing, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is something I wanted to write for a while, and well, I couldn't think of a better time than fathers day! I loved writing my first dad Jay fic, so making an add-on to it actually makes me really happy, but I hope you enjoy it. happy father's day to those who celebrate and to those who don't well... I'm your daddy now hehe

The warm summer sun was shining through the small kitchen window above the sink as you and Minji stood at the counter with mixed cake batter. The young girl was standing on her little stool next to you, trying to crack an egg, but she couldn't, which caused her to start getting frustrated. She just wanted to help you bake a cake for Jay for Father’s Day, but she had been struggling to crack the same egg for a few minutes, and you didn’t want to interrupt her. However, when Minji goes to throw it down, you intervene and take the egg from her little hands.

“You can’t throw the egg, love,” You laugh softly, cracking the egg and dumping the inside contents into the bowl with the other ingredients.

Minji pouts as she watches you mix the batter, her hands holding onto the countertop. She is amazed by how easy it was for you to crack the other egg before putting it into the bowl as well.

“Why is it so hard for me to crack the egg, mama?” She asked, eyes tearing away from the bowl to look up at you as a smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Even after two years of her calling you that it never ceased to make you smile, loving to hear the words fall from her lips.

You dusted your hands off with a rag before turning to face the little girl. Starting to bend down, you realized that you couldn’t go down as far as you once used to with the baby bump that had formed on your stomach. Getting comfortable with one hand gripping the countertop edge, you opened your mouth to speak to the little girl, but she was quick to interrupt, panic on her face.

“No, mama, stand up. You’re going to squish, sissy!” She exclaimed, her eyes moving from your face down to your swollen belly. You couldn’t help but laugh at how worried she was.

“Min, the baby is okay, I promise.” You smile at her softly before dusting some of the flour off of her shirt. Now, how about I finish up with the cake so we can get it in the oven? Then we can decorate it while I start dinner, okay?” A smile grew on the little girl’s face as she nodded her head, excited to make the cake look pretty for her daddy.

Patting her head softly, you pull yourself back to your feet with a huff, grab the bowl, and whisk to finish mixing. Minji watched with intrigued eyes, not saying much as you made sure there weren’t any clumps left in the batter before grabbing the cake pan.

Spray the pan with cooking spray to make sure the cake won’t stick to the sides when you try to get it out. Then grab the bowl and start pouring the batter inside. Once all of the batter was scraped out of the bowl, reach over Minji and sit it inside the sink, then grab the cake pan.

“Stay right here, Min, I don’t want you to get burnt.” You instruct the young girl, and she tilts her head quizzically before muttering a small ‘Okay, mama.’ After making sure that she was going to stay in her spot, you walk over to the preheated oven and open the door before sliding the pan in. When it was fully inside, you closed the door and set the timer. Dusting your hands off once more you looked back at Minji who was still watching you with curious eyes, you looked at the clock. 

Jay shouldn’t be home until later in the evening, so the two of you should have more than enough time to decorate the cake and finish cooking dinner before he returns.

After the cake was done baking in the oven and fully cooled off you and Minji started to decorate it. You covered the entirety of the cake in frosting before grabbing a variety of sprinkles, decorative icing, and edible flowers to lay them before Minji so she could decorate.

“Alright, sweets, figure out what you wanna use while I finish off the frosting.” You pat down a few strands of her hair before turning back to the cake and grabbing the spatula.

Minji leans down until her chin rests on the counter, watching as you smooth out the frosting. Her eyes then fall onto your belly, and a small pout forms on her lips.

“How much longer is sissy going to be in there?” Minji asks as she lightly pokes your belly, resulting in a soft kick from the baby that was growing inside of your womb. You smile softly, setting the spatula down to cup the small girl’s face, brushing some stray frosting off of her face with your thumb.

“She still has a few more months until she gets here, Min,” you tell her with a smile, moving your hand from her face but not looking away.

Minji’s bottom lip jutted out, “Why can’t she come sooner?”

“Well, if she were to come now, she would be really sick, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” You watched with a fond gleam in your eyes as the little girl shook her head violently, slight panic forming in her eyes.

“No! I want her to be healthy, so I can play with her.” She exclaims, causing you to laugh softly, shaking your head. You then tell her that she will have to wait just a little bit longer after she’s born to play, which results in the young child sighing before yet another pout forms on her lips.

The both of you then go back to decorating the cake, talking about anything the girl could think of or humming a tune that has been stuck in your head.

However, after a few moments of not hearing a peep from Minji you looked over at her, seeing a troubled look on her face. Stopping what you were doing so you could turn all of your attention to her, “What’s wrong, bug?”

The moment that Minji turned her head, allowing her teary eyes to meet yours. Seeing the tears that were pooling along her waterline made your heart lurch. You reach out to cup her small cheek in your palm, thumb wiping a stray tear that had broken free.

“Are you and Daddy going to forget about me when sissy gets here?” Her voice shook as her bottom lip trembled, making your heart hurt. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like you or Jay would forget about her when the baby got here.

“Aww baby,” You cooed softly, crouching down once more despite the discomfort so you were at eye level with her. Reaching out, you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking at her with such fondness, “We’re not going to forget about you, even after the baby gets here.” You offer her a small smile, tilting your head slightly. “She’s going to need a lot of attention, but your dad and I will never forget about you, no matter what.”

Minji sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand before holding out her other hand, her tiny pinky sticking up. " You promise?” she asks.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you wrapped your own pinky around her’s, “I promise.” The both of you seal the word as the pads of your thumbs meet.

Unbeknownst to the both of you Jay stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched the two of you go back to decorating the cake. His eyes gleamed with adoration that if anyone had been looking in from the outside they would say that he quite literally had stars shining in his eyes. One would say that he was lovesick, the other would say he was a fool, but Jay didn’t care. If loving his fiance and children made him a love-sick fool, then so be it.

He watched the two of you discuss where to put the small edible flowers on the cake for a few more moments until he finally pushed himself off of the door frame. Walking further into the room, he watched his footsteps so the floorboards wouldn’t make too much noise.

“How are my favorite girls?” His voice filled the room, causing both you and Minji to jump. Turning around quickly, with your hand over your heart, you looked at Jay with wide eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be home until later.

Minji looks over at her dad with a huge smile on her lips before jumping from the stool, almost tripping, scaring the life out of you and Jay. However, she catches herself before making a beeline for Jay.

“Daddy!” She screamed as she ran into Jay’s awaiting arms, wrapping her arms tightly around Jay’s neck as he wrapped his around her smaller body. When he picked her up, Minji started to giggle, burying her face in Jay’s neck.

“How was your day princess?” Jay asked the small girl as she pulled away to look at him with wide, twinkling eyes. She starts to tell him about all of the stuff that you and her had been doing all day causing a smile to spread on your lips, watching the two of them. “Have you been listening to your mama?” Jay pokes her belly causing Minji to burst out in a fit of giggles before nodding her head and looking over at you just as you started to walk towards them.

A silly smile spread on Jay’s lips as he watched you waddle over to the two of them, your hand lying softly on the top of your baby bump. It still baffles him to this day that you have given him a second chance, even if it has been three years since then. Now he’ll get to call you his wife soon and you’re carrying his child. He will probably forever wonder whether or not this was all some dream, but if it was, he hoped it was one that he would never wake up from.

“She’s been good, she’s always good, Jay.” You smile softly as he wraps his arm around your waist the moment you’re within arm's reach.

“I’m just worried about leaving her alone with you right now,” He tells you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head as you wrap your arm around his torso. You rolled your eyes playfully before looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’m seven months pregnant, Jay, not handicapped.” 

“I know, but I’m still gonna worry regardless.” He stared down at you, taking in your features. The way your hair that was pulled back into a messy bun was starting to come undone resulting in a few stray pieces falling and framing your face. The small specks of frosting that somehow got onto your cheeks, then your pretty pink lips that were coated in a thin layer of lip gloss. Noticing his gaze, you reached up to move a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, snapping him out of his little trance. Smiling softly, he leans down to kiss the top of your head once more.

Minji started poking his shoulder, trying to gain his attention, “Daddy, guess what?” Jay turned his attention back to his daughter as she smiled widely at him, her small body shaking in excitement. “We made a cake for you!” She exclaimed, pointing over at the unfinished cake that still sat on the counter.

Smiling, you looked over at her before moving to meet Jay’s gaze once more as he looked over. “It’s not done yet; we weren’t expecting you to be back so soon.”

“Ah well,” Jay chuckled, tightening his hold on the both of you, “I managed to get boss to let me off early so I could spend the rest of the day with my favorite girls.”

His words made your heart twist. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but just hearing how he would much rather spend every waking second of the day with you and Minji made you realize that you truly had picked the best man alive.

Minji wiggles her way out of Jay’s arms before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to where the cake was, leaving you to stand there and watch with a fond smile. The young girl went on to explain everything about what the cake looked like and how she wanted to decorate it for him. She then looked up at him, her face as bright as the sun saying that she hopes that he likes it when she finishes it.

“I love it already, Min.” He promised, patting the top of her head before she climbed back onto her stool to finish decorating.

You watch for a moment long before turning and walking over to the stove to finish cooking dinner. Noticing movement from the corner of his eye Jay looks over at you, seeing you pick up the ladle, your other hand propped on your hip. 

With one last pat to his daughter's head, he makes his way over to you, grabbing the ladle from your hand, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve got it, bug; you should help Min finish the cake.” He looked at you with a soft smile, but you knew that arguing with him would just be useless, so you just shook your head, a smile pulling on the corner of your lips. Moving out of the way you allow him to take your previous stance, but you don’t move very far, eyes still on Jay, watching as he gets back into his element.

Seeing that you hadn’t gone anywhere and still stood in the same place Jay turned his head slightly before reaching a hand out to lay his palm flat on your swollen belly. His thumb rubs your skin soothingly through the fabric of your shirt as you move your hand to lay it on top of his, the light gleaming off of the diamond that laid on your ring finger.

Pulling your attention away from your hands, you let your eyes trail up until they met his, searching his orbs as the light reflected off of them. You had always loved his eyes. They always seemed dark at first glance, but upon closer inspection, they were a shade of your favorite chocolate, a beautiful color in your eyes.

“Thank you.” Jay breaks the silence; however, his words just leave you staring at him confused. You open your lips, asking what he meant and he just smiles sweetly, his gaze full of such love that it leaves you weak in the knees. “I am beyond thankful for you, bug; you’re always there for Minji and me. Thankful for everything that you have done for us. And I will forever be thankful that you gave me another chance because now I have the family that I’ve always thought about.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping to keep the tears that had pooled in your eyes at bay. His words made your heart flutter, beating against your ribs in such a manner that you were sure that your face was red. Your hand moved faster than your brain, smacking his chest softly with a playful glare adorning your face.

“Stop trying to make me cry, asshole.” You grumbled lowly, not wanting Minji to hear you.

Jay couldn’t help but laugh before laying the ladle down so he could turn and engulf your smaller body in his arm, pulling you as close as he could with your pregnant belly in the way.

He presses a kiss to your forehead with a smile, “I’m sorry, love.”

Just then, a loud crash was heard throughout the whole kitchen, causing you to jump in Jay’s arms. Small curses left your lips, causing him to chuckle. Before the two of you looked over at the little girl, who was looking down at the fallen bowl with wide eyes, the spatula not too far from it. There were small specks of frosting all over her face and a few bigger splotches around her mouth and chin.

“Whoops.” As soon as the word fell from Minji’s lips, both you and Jay burst out laughing, the little girl not too far behind you.

The two of you then separated, moving towards Minji to help clean her up. “I’ve got her,” you told Jay. He was quick to grab your upper arm, ready to protest, but you turned and pressed the pads of your fingers to his lips, shushing him. "You just cook dinner; I’ve got her.”

Jay grabbed your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, muttering a small ‘okay’ before releasing his hold.

He watches as you walk over to the sink to grab a clean rag from the drawer next to it before wetting it with warm water. You then turn to the little girl as she tilts her face towards you, already knowing what was coming.

“So, did you like the frosting?” You teased her, gently wiping the leftover frosting from her cheeks. 

Minji giggled but nodded her head nonetheless, “I did! It was really sweet, though.” The girl exclaimed with a tight-lipped smile as you wiped down her chin.

Once her face was completely wiped off, you moved to pick up the bowl off the ground, but Minji was quick to hop off the stool, shouting that she’d got it. A sweet, wide smile spread on your lips as you watched her scoop up the bowl and spatula in her arms before turning and handing them to you.

Jay watched from the side with an adoring gleam in his eyes, knowing that Minji was already going to be a great big sister despite the almost six year difference.

“Thank you, love.” You thanked the child as you took the dishes from her outstretched arms and placed them in the sink to wash later.

The two of you then go back to decorating the cake—well, more like Minji is decorating it, and you’re just there to supervise so she doesn't make too big of a mess while Jay finishes dinner. The only sound filling the comfortable space around the three of you was the soft tunes that Jay was humming.

~

After dinner was done Jay gathered all of the dishes, ignoring your protests for him to let you do it. Realizing you weren’t going to win this fight, you just opted to help him clean them, which even took a bit of convincing. Finally giving in, Jay allowed you to dry the dishes off before placing them back in the cabinet. Even Minji found a way to help by standing next to Jay and pointing out all of the spots that he missed on some of the dishes, causing you to laugh softly as Jay faked a shocked expression every time.

He’d do anything if it meant that a smile would fall on either of his girls' faces.

Once the dishes were finally done, Minji started to hop around the dining table with a huge smile on her face. She then came to a halt in front of you, grabbing your hand and looking up to meet your awaiting eyes.

“Can we get the cake and presents out now?” she asked hurriedly, gently swinging your arm, causing you to chuckle and nod. However, Jay looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

“You didn’t have to get me anything; being with the three of you is more than enough.”

You roll your eyes softly, “No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Plus, Min has been excited to get you something.” You tell him, and the little girl by your side starts to nod her head violently, causing you to let out a small laugh. " Plus, it is your special day after all.”

Jay relented with a sigh, knowing that he wouldn’t be winning this fight, definitely not with the excited look that adorned his little girl’s face. So he sat down at the table, watching as the two of you walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with the gifts in hand.

Coming back to the table, you took Minji's gift and set them both down on the table in front of Jay. Minji then clung to your side, her head resting on the side of your tummy, eyes on her dad as he thanked both of you.

Jay grabs the gift from Minji first, pulling out the stuffing paper and reaching inside. A wide smile pulls on his lips as he pulls out a cute coffee mug that was littered with little doodles that Minji had scribbled on them. Jay took a few moments to inspect every drawing on the cup, seeing butterflies, puppies, her name, as well as both yours and Jay’s names, as well as a bunch of other random doodles. With a stupid smile on his lips, he sat the cup down before grabbing the homemade card that she had made for him. He once again took his time reading it, relishing in the way that despite Minji being only five her spelling and handwriting were amazing.

When he was done reading the card, he sat it down next to the cup before turning to look over at Minji, who still had a hold of your hand, eyes on him. Jay held a hand out for the small child, and she rushed over to him without an ounce of hesitation, wrapping her arms around him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” She exclaimed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with a toothy grin.

“Thank you, baby girl.” He returned her goofy smile before pressing a kiss on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter close, but the smile never left her lips. 

Once Jay pulled away from her, Minji climbed onto his lap, quickly getting comfortable before looking over at you. Walking over, you place your hand on the back of Jay’s chair, watching as Jay reaches forward, grabbing the other small gift bag. 

Jay throws a quick glance at you when he pulls a small ring box out, his eyebrows furrowed. He has a small feeling that he already knows what it is, or, well, more along the lines of what it could be. Your lips curl inward, trying to fight off the smile as you usher him to open it.

Opening the small box, Jay’s eyes go wide as he sees a ring sitting inside. However, it wasn’t just any ring. No, it was the right that he had been contemplating getting a few months back but decided not to. He was sure that you didn’t know about it, knowing how you are when he refuses to buy anything for himself, so how did you find out?

“What? How-”

You let out a laugh, hand moving to his shoulder, “Babe, you have a bad habit of not closing tabs when you’re done with them.”

Jay just chuckles with a small chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed before looking back down at the ring when he noticed how antsy Minji was in his lap. Asking if something was the matter she just shook her head before pointing to the piece of jewelry and telling him to look at the inside. 

Confused, he takes the piece of jewelry out of the case before inspecting it. His eyes then go wide when he realizes that there are names inscribed on the inside of the band. Minji and Joonhee. Both of his little girls’ names.

“I knew how much you wanted something with the girls’ names on it, so when I saw the ring, I found a perfect solution.” You smiled sweetly at him as he looked up at you with literal stars shining in his eyes, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you, baby.” He spoke softly, biting back tears, but then he realized that he hadn’t seen your name with the girls’. “But where’s your name?”

You shook your head, telling him that you weren’t sure about adding your name, so you decided not to. Jay waved it off before saying that he’d go within the next few days to add your name.

“I want all of my girls’ names on there. Especially my wife and mother of my children.” His voice was sweet along with his words which easily brought tears to your eyes. You had wondered what you had done in your past life for you to deserve such a caring man like Jay.

You weren’t able to hold your tears this time resulting in them starting to fall down your cheeks.

“God dammit, Jay, I told you not to make me cry.” You curse him, trying to wipe the tears from your face, but it proves pointless as more just replaced the ones you had wiped away.

Jay chuckles softly before laying the ring back inside the box and grabbing Minji to pick her up once more. Hoisting the little girl on his hip as he stood, he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling your body into his, creating a small group hug.

“I love you both so so much.” He whispered, inhaling through his nose to keep his own tears at bay before pressing a kiss to Minji’s forehead. The little girl squealed with giggles, smiling at Jay when he pulled before leaning forward and pressing a kiss of her own on his cheek.

“I love you too, Jay, so much.” You responded to him as his eyes fell back on yours.

He leaned down, sealing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss, his hand on your jaw, angling your face for better access. After a few moments, the both of you pulled away with smiles adorning both of your faces.

Then you remembered the cake, quickly wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks, and smiled brightly at both Jay and Minji.

“Alright, who wants cake?” As soon as those words fell from your lips, Minji exclaimed loudly that she did, wiggling in Jay’s arms, causing you both to burst out laughing once more.

~

When the three of you were done with the cake, you all settled in the living room. You were lying between Jay’s legs, your back pressed against his chest, while Minji was curled up in your lap, using your baby bump as a pillow while the three of you watched movies.

It wasn’t too long before Minji fell asleep on your lap, her arms hanging loosely at her side while her face was smooshed against your belly. You cooed softly, brushed the hair out of her face watching her sleep for a few moments until a yawn tore through your lips.

“I think it’s time to call it a night; what do you say, bug?” Jay asked softly, his lips pressed against the back of your head.

Before you could even speak, you were cut off by a yawn answering Jay’s question. Laughing softly he maneuvered his way out from behind you so he could pick the sleeping child up.

“Noooo…” Minji whined sleepily as Jay pulled her from your lap, but as soon as her head laid on Jay’s shoulder, she was out once more.

Both of you laughed quietly before you moved to get off the couch, but Jay was quick to hold his hand out. Smiling up at him, you placed your smaller hand in him, allowing him to hoist you to your feet with little to no struggle.

You thanked him before the three of you made your way to Minji’s room to settle her before making it back to your room.

Settling down in bed, Jay reaches over to lay his hand on top of your baby bump once more. However, this time, the baby kicks, causing the both of you to laugh softly. He then leans over, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Your hand finds his cheek, thumb brushing his skin gently, realizing his warmth.

Pulling away, he lays his forehead against yours, breathing softly through his nose, “Thank you, again, for everything.” He thanked you for the nth time that night causing you to giggle softly before reaching forward to cup his face in both hands, kissing him once more.

“I would do anything and everything for you Jay,” You smiled as he sealed your lips in yet another kiss, all of his love and adoration seeping out as he kissed you deeply this time.

Pulling away, he moved down to your belly, fingers caressing the skin that was peeking out from the bottom of your, well, his shirt. You watched with soft eyes as he placed gentle kisses on the curve of your stomach.

“Don’t keep your mom up all night, alright.” He whispered against your skin, causing a silly smile to spread on your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The two of you lay down after turning the lights off. Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He then kissed your shoulder, trailing his lips up until he got to your ear.

“I don’t know how I became the luckiest man on earth, but I will never take it for granted.” He whispered softly, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I promise that I will do whatever it takes to make sure you and our daughters are taken care of.” He then kissed the top of your head, “I love you so much, baby,”

You mumbled a soft ‘I love you too,’ sleep already consuming your mind as you were encased in Jay’s warmth.

“Good night, my love.” He whispered as you closed your eyes, falling asleep with your hand lying over his.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[kykyonthemoon]

An Unexpected Dinner

As a reward for working so hard lately, he plans an unexpected dinner for you.

❀ Xavier x Reader/MC, Rafayel x Reader/MC, Zayne x Reader/MC

❀ Domestic fluff, cooking time, soft and sweet

❀ Requested by Trâm Hoàng

❀ Masterlist

❀ Request a fic

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You came home after a tiring day of overtime. Your plan was to make a simple dinner, then a long sleep until morning to recover. Yet from afar, you witnessed a plume of black smoke rising from your residence.

Based on the location of the black smoke, you knew right away that the troubled residence was one level above yours. That was precisely the house of…

“Xavier!”

You cried out, almost a scream. You took off running in that direction. The building's occupants remained oblivious to the situation, and your first concern was locating Xavier. He had the day off. He's probably still inside.

The fire alarm in the hallway was still silent since the smoke had not yet extended to that area. You impatiently rang the doorbell, then slammed your fist on the door while calling Xavier's name.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open from inside. You were welcomed with the sound of the fire alarm along with a plume of smoke and a burning stench. Amidst the chaos, Xavier's face emerged, with black streaks running across it and his hair disheveled and coated in white powder. He was also wearing an apron that was scorched at the hem and blood was seeping from one of his fingers.

“Xavier!” You grabbed his body and observed. “You're bleeding!”

Xavier saw then that a deep and lengthy cut had been made on his finger. He brought it up to his eyes, then put it back down.

“Let me get your first aid kit.” You said, one foot stepped inside but Xavier pulled you back.

“Don't go in there.”

"Why not?"

Xavier must have been attempting to disguise some humiliation based on the way he was acting. He remained silent and continued to hold your arm tightly.

“Why is your apartment in this state? Is there a Wanderer?”

You had checked your watch on the way here. This area was still pretty safe. You just failed to see why Xavier came to be in this situation. What could possibly bring such suffering upon such a respected Hunter as him?

You peeped inside. By then, the fire alarm had been fully deactivated. There was still some smoke in the kitchen, and the air smelled burning. You removed Xavier's hand that was placed on you and ran inside. While the crisis was soothed by the fire hose, it also unleashed an unparalleled mayhem over Xavier's entire kitchen. But it might have probably been chaotic the moment he had decided to cook something in here.

Xavier trailed you, wearing an unsettling, guilty look.

“You… What were you doing in here?” You questioned, no longer trusting what you saw. There was flour all over the counter and floor, and something in the oven had burnt black and melted into a deep pool of sugar. Dishes, pots, and pans were arranged on the counter as though he was either planning to inventory the kitchen utensils or planning to throw them all away.

Without waiting for his reply, you already grasped the situation. With a heavy sigh, you turned back to face him and said:

“I thought we agreed that you should stay out of the kitchen?”

Xavier gave you an innocent, almost sinless look.

“Um… I'm sorry… Since you often come home late from work these days, I thought… I could make you a surprise dinner, along with some desserts…”

You turned back to look at the kitchen. The "dinner" he spoke of lay still in the pan, its contents so burnt you could no longer discern what it was.

You took Xavier's hand away. "Let's go. To my place.”

Xavier let you lead him back to your apartment and obediently sat down on the sofa while you went to find the first aid kit. You cleaned his wound and then applied a band-aid on it. After giving the band-aid a close inspection, he turned to face you and grinned, saying:

“These bunnies are so cute.”

You didn't say anything, just turned away to pack first aid supplies back to where they belonged. Xavier's voice still rang out monotonously:

"Thank you. And… I'm also sorry since I wanted to surprise you, but ended up causing you more trouble.”

You remained silent the entire time, in part because you were too concerned about him and, because of the anger you felt when he ignored what you said and went into the kitchen. Even though he had good intentions to take care of you, the thought of him being in danger put you in great panic.

“Do you think these are good bunnies?” You gestured at the bandage on Xavier. When you asked that, he seemed a little astonished, but he nodded. "They listen to me and don't run around the kitchen making a mess," you went on. "Unlike a certain bunny I know…”

Xavier showed an apologetic face. “I'm… sorry…” Then he took out a few chocolates from his pocket. They fit easily into his strong grasp. “These are free gift with baking supplies… At least we still have this for dinner.”

You chuckled as you glanced at them and then back at him.

“Leave the dinner to me. But this..." You held Xavier's wounded hand. "Are you hurt?" You asked.

With a cooing voice, Xavier nodded like a toddler and said: "It's very, very painful."

You laughed. Hundreds of Wanderers had been defeated by this young man, yet he suffered a simple cut.

“Then leave dinner to me. As for this wound..." You stopped for a moment to raise his hand very close to your lips. Your fingers gently rubbed his hand, then you kissed the rabbit band-aid. “Get well soon.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

You immediately ran to Rafayel's studio after his text message. He only said it was an emergency and needed you to be there at seven o'clock.

The entrance to the studio was unlocked. You entered cautiously. To be sure there was no danger here, you looked around. Rafayel was nowhere to be found when you searched the gallery and living room.

Impatient you were as you had no idea what could happen to Rafayel. You were about to call out his name, but at that moment, you heard a noise from the kitchen. You crept closer, afraid that there was still danger there. You entered the dining room to find everything redone, including roses, unlit candles and the circular dining table with two chairs facing each other. You grew even more curious about why Rafayel wanted you to come here so urgently.

Through the open door, you caught a glimpse of Rafayel's back on the opposite side. He was staring at a pot on the stove. The steam and smoke released cause the temperature in the kitchen to gradually increase. It was easy to see that Rafayel was sweating profusely on the back of his shirt. You breathed a sigh of relief. He was still safe even though he had not sensed your presence yet. He continued his story as if there was another person in the kitchen.

“…You know, when she's shy, her face is as red as your color when you're steamed.”

You frowned. Who was he talking to? And about who?

“These days, she's a little bit slimmer now than she was. She often leaves early and stays at work late. Her missions must be very stressful. Unlike you, so fat and round, you almost don't fit in my pot."

You heard Rafayel tapping the ladle on the contents of the pot. The smell of boiled crab and seafood filled the kitchen. What was he doing here?

“Anyway, thank you for coming here. Please help her gain a little weight. I love giving her plump cheeks a poke to watch how she reacts. Haha…”

It was not a surprise to you that Rafayel talked to himself. But to the crab he was cooking?... You wondered what would be better, to let him finish his meal or to come in and say hello?

“Do you think she will come? Since she's so busy, I'm not sure. What if she really ignores my messages? Then it'll just be me and you, and all the seafood I've prepared for her... Well, she'll definitely come, right?"

It turned out he had tricked you into coming to the studio with that text message. To get Tara to assist you with the last thirty minutes of work, you had to bribe her with boba tea. Then, you had to rush as quickly as you could to see him. You coughed loudly in the kitchen, signaling your presence there and that you knew his entire plot.

Rafayel gently turned around, as though your presence hadn't startled him.

“Oh, how come you're here so early?”

As if nothing had occurred, he grinned. Additionally, he was wearing a vibrant apron, on which you could very well assume he had painted it himself.

“Hurry and take a seat. Everything has been prepared for you. All that's left is this crab."

“You called me here for this emergency matter?”

Rafayel blinked. He carried the ladle in one hand still. “Ah, that's right. This is truly urgent.”

"Seafood? Flowers and candles? You cooking? Rafayel, what's going on?

Rafayel set down the ladle and moved in your direction. “Since you've been working so much lately, I thought a surprise dinner would make you happier.”

You clenched her fist and gave Rafayel a painful blow in the chest.

“Ouch!”

"You idiot! I ran for my life here immediately after that message. I thought something happened to you… If something really happened to you, then I…”

Rafayel raised his hand, not to ease the pain you just gave him, but to squeeze your wrist.

“Are you so frantic… because you're worried about me?”

Rafayel gave you a very affectionate look. A grin formed at the corners of his lips. The hand that was holding you moved along your wrist and hand, trying to soothe the anger in your heart. You admitted, you worried about him like crazy. You thought of all the bad things that could have happened to him on the way here. As for him, nothing happened to him except that he probably had told the crab many nasty things about you.

“Next time, I will just ignore you.” You pulled your hand away from Rafayel. He released his grip on you only to encircle your waist with both arms.

“If I hadn't said it was urgent, would you have come so quickly?”

“You just need to say you have a hearty seafood meal…” You grumbled, but enjoyed the sensation of rubbing against him, even though his body now smelled of boiled crab. “I wouldn't miss a single crab for anything.”

You heard Rafayel burst into laughter. “Then milady, would you help me set the table? Your crab will be ready soon.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You were a bit surprised because Zayne had asked you to come to his house on a weeknight. He would typically be really busy at that time. You got off work early so you went straight to his house. Zayne was a little taken aback to find you waiting at the entrance that early hour. Nonetheless, you were just as astonished to find him in casual attire, wearing a dark apron without patterns.

“Oh… Sorry I'm a bit early. I didn't know you were busy in the kitchen..."

"No problem." Zayne replied. He invited you into his house. “I'm preparing dinner. For you."

“For me?” You were taken aback since he had made no mention of having supper together. His message was quite brief, giving you the impression that he needed to speak with you in person instead. However, you were delighted since he was taking great care of you.

“I’m so happy right now. I didn’t expect the busy Dr. Zayne could make dinner for me.”

“You’ve been working extra hard lately. It’s my job as your physician to make sure you eat well and enough.”

You beamed, “I’m really grateful.”

Zayne replied with a smile and returned to the kitchen. You trailed closely behind. You took a look at the tidy kitchen, filled with the aroma of food, making your stomach rumble.

“Do you need my help?”

You approached him, waiting for instructions. On the stove was an extremely delicious grilled salmon. It also caught your attention that several of the other dishes were nearly done. A basket of veggies, golden egg rolls, and miso tofu soup were served.

Zayne motioned for you to turn to face the spice cabinet as his fingers deftly encircled the chopsticks.

“Teriyaki sauce.”

"Coming right up." You cheered and went to look on the shelf for exactly what Zayne needed. You had spent enough time here to be familiar with his well-kept kitchen. He focused on dinner without saying anything else. Every now and again a drop of sweat showed up on his forehead.

Zayne was far more skilled in the kitchen than you were. You simply hurried around the kitchen assisting him with various tasks. After the meal was cooked, he gave you the task of setting food on the table.

“Take caution. It's hot.” Zayne warned you carefully, but you still clumsily allowed your hand to come into contact with the boiling soup pot.

You jumped up and made a loud "oops" sound. Zayne frowned, immediately moved over to stand next to you, and grasped your hands with red fingers.

"Hot, hot, hot!"

You attempted to rub your fingertips together, but the scorching sensation persisted. Zayne held your hands open and looked down.

“It's not serious. Just a little bit of irritation. Can you put your hands in—”

Before he could finish speaking, you perked up on tiptoe and put your crimson fingers to his earlobes. Zayne alerted with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Healing myself." You laughed aloud. The sensation of burning in your hands eventually subsided. As a little child, Grandma had taught you this trick to treat burns when you accidentally touched something too hot. Zayne knew that too. To save you the trouble of having to stand on your tiptoes, he drew closer.

"Are your hands feeling better now?" His voice was really soft as he asked. Your face felt the sudden rush of his breath, your body temperature raised even more.

"Just a little." You replied while pretending to grimace. “If someone could use his Evol, maybe it would heal faster?”

Zayne sighed, but you could see a faint smile forming on his lips, and his ears began to flush. A cold touch reached your hands, followed by a pleasant feeling when the skin no longer burned.

“Can you let go now?” Zayne asked, and you felt regretful when you had to let go.

“Thank you, Dr. Zayne.”

A hand of yours was grasped in Zayne's big palm. He caressed each finger and whispered:

“I can't always be there to take care of you. Don't be so careless next time, promise?"

[dear-ao3]

how to make pancakes more filling and taste better

so pancakes are actually way way easier than everyone thinks they are and they are very very easy to change up as long as you know how to

the things that you don't fuck with are the amount of flour, oil, egg, milk and baking powder/soda. as long as you stick to that on any recipe you can change pretty much anything else or substitute.

generally recipes are 1 egg to 1 cup of flour. a 1 cup flour 1 egg recipe usually serves 2 and you can double the recipe for 4, etc.

you can also substitute up to half of the four in a recipe for whole wheat flour without changing the leavening measurements. you can do the same for adding in protein powder, just adjust the sugar accordingly if its sweetened protein powder.

so, this is my favorite basic buttermilk pancake recipe, it makes about 10 pancakes:

1 1/4 cups flour 1/2 cup old fashioned oats 1-1 1/2 tbsp some kind of sweetener (brown/white sugar or maple syrup/agave syrup all work well but there's other options) 1/2 tsp baking soda 1 egg 1 1/4 cup buttermilk 1 tbsp oil of choice (butter or coconut oil generally) 1/2 tsp salt

this is the bones of the recipe. the sweetener is adjustable based on how sweet you like your pancakes but the rest of it should all stay the same. double this if you want to make pancakes to serve 4 people (about 20 pancakes)

to this, i add:

as much vanilla extract as my heart desires (within reason, i see you tumblr) some cinnamon/pumpkin pie spice/whatever you want lemon zest from 1 lemon (or orange zest) blueberries fresh or frozen (but you can use any mix in like bananas or nuts or whatever)

one very important note: you don't need buttermilk to make this recipe. you can substitute buttermilk by combining 1 teaspoon of lemon juice or white vinegar for every 1 cup of milk (its supposed to be regular milk but you can use plant or nut milk too) and letting it stand for 10 minutes.

the instructions:

zest your citrus and add it to your sugar. mush it together until you get a paste or sorts. add to that your oats, vanilla and buttermilk and stir them together. let the oats soak in the mixture for 10 minutes.

combine your flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon or spices.

after your oats are done soaking add in the oil and the egg (make sure the egg is beaten well)

add the wet into the dry and combine. make sure that all the flour is mixed in. there will be lumps. we want the lumps. then add your mix ins.

grease a pan. this can be a regular frying pan an electric griddle or a stovetop griddle. let the oil sit on the pan on medium heat for a few minutes or until you throw a few water drops on the pan and they crackle and jump.

use a 1/3 measuring cup and scoop your batter onto the pan, space them out a little but not ridiculously. flip them with a plastic spatula (ideal) 2-3 times or until they're fully cooked. (you tell if they're cooked if there's no wet batter on the sides)

voila. pancakes.

use this recipe or use the bare bones version to make your own thing.

happy pancake making.

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART THREE

thank you so much for 100 followers and for all the kind replies/likes/reblogs on the previous parts!! yall have no idea how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this fic. things are finally getting a little smutty so i hope you enjoy this part too! PART ONE | PART TWO | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink, thigh riding word count: about 4.3k

As luck would have it, the resort was completely devoid of any major threats. The three of you quietly and carefully searched the cabins and welcome centre, weapons at the ready in case you came across any infected or other people who'd had the same idea you did. There were no signs that anyone had been living here or had even come across the place in the past twenty years; the only evidence of previous life was in the one infected Ellie had discovered, already long gone and practically melded into the wall of the main kitchen. She'd knifed it for good measure, taking maybe a little too much enjoyment out of it while you and Joel watched from a few feet away, giving each other a quick look of concern.

The kitchen itself was disgusting but most of the cupboards and pantries were fully stocked. You watched as Ellie gleefully shoved as many cans of beef ravioli as she could into her pack while Joel grabbed a few cans of tomato sauce and dry pasta.

“Looks like spaghetti's on the menu tonight,” he'd said with a smile, shaking the box of pasta in Ellie's direction, “You ever had spaghetti?”

“Nope, it's just tomatoes and noodles, right?”

“Well I used to make it with more veggies, some green peppers, mushroo-” he cut himself off, making a face, “But this'll do just fine.”

You couldn't help but giggle and he froze for a second to look at you, rolling his eyes when you stifled your laugh and pretended to busy yourself with the box of cornflakes you'd been checking. It wasn't just the mushroom realization that had incited your reaction, but the image of Joel in an average kitchen on an average day cooking spaghetti, maybe singing along to a song on the radio with a dishtowel over his shoulder. The idea of Joel being all cute and domestic was enough to make your chest fill with warmth.

Joel managed to find some more ammo in a storage closet at the back of the welcome centre while you and Ellie searched the cabins more thoroughly. To your absolute joy, most of the cabin bathrooms were still stocked with shampoo and body wash, conditioner, toothpaste, razors, everything you could possibly need to actually give yourself a bit of a pamper session.

“Holy shit, pads!” Ellie had squealed excitedly, throwing the box of feminine hygiene products behind her in delight, “I'm so done with that cup Maria gave me, it's gross.”

“It wouldn't be gross if you actually boiled it like you're supposed to,” you'd replied with a laugh, opening the box to make sure they were usable, “Mine still works great.”

“Yeah but we have to boil them in front of Joel,” she'd groaned, “It's embarrassing.”

“Can't argue with you there,” you'd muttered, but you weren't sure if she heard you.

By the time everything had been checked and taken stock of, darkness had fallen. Ellie was pretty disappointed about not being able to take a bath until morning but you all decided it would ultimately be safer to wait. Joel cooked up his promised spaghetti on one of the many charcoal grills that surrounded the cabins, and that image of domesticity returned to your mind as you watched him stir the pasta, humming to himself. You helped him where you could, filling up a freshly cleaned pan with the tomato sauce and adding some of the spices Joel had picked out, though he'd said that their lack of smell probably indicated a lack of flavour. You really didn't care though, and neither did Ellie; food was food.

Speaking of Ellie, she'd come up with the “exciting” idea that you'd each get your own cabin for the night; there was eight of them, four on one side of a wide dirt path and four on the other side. Each one had a distinct sign outside with a picture of an animal on it – the pig cabin, the horse cabin, the cow cabin, etc. She was currently traipsing through each one, trying to decide where to settle for the night. Each cabin was equipped with two bedrooms and three beds, one queen and two twin. Your first instinct had been to suggest all of you sharing one cabin, but Ellie had shut it down immediately.

You could only assume that you and Joel would be sharing a cabin, but you also didn't want to say anything until it was absolutely necessary. The thought of him choosing a cabin by himself made your heart ache. You looked at him now, his attention focused on the task at hand as he continued to hum a familiar tune you'd heard him hum a few times before.

“I missed this feeling,” you said to him with a nostalgic smile, “I used to help my older sister cook all the time”

He returned your smile, though his eyes stayed on the pasta, “What kinda stuff did you make?”

“Oh, everything. Curry, soup, casseroles, pizza,” you nudged him playfully with your hip, “Spaghetti.”

He chuckled, “Well, nothing tops the Miller family recipe. Me and Sarah, we-” he stopped, biting down on his lip and inhaling sharply.

Slowly, you reached up and placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it with all the gentleness and care you could muster, “It's okay,” you murmured, fingers stroking tenderly at the base of his neck.

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, head tilting down in a kind of surrender. You inched your hand upwards to cup his cheek, his beard pressing into your hand, and he opened his eyes again to meet yours. He'd done this a few times lately, mention his daughter. It was rarely directly by name and he usually only brought her up around Ellie, as if he was using it as a way to further his bond with her. You liked hearing him talk about the past, something neither of you rarely ever delved into, but it hurt to see the pain in his eyes when he thought of her. Right now it was as if all the lights had gone out, his gaze far away and dark.

“I want to... talk about her,” he whispered, “but it's so hard.”

“I know,” you breathed, watching the way his eyes softened at your voice, “It'll take time, like everything.”

“You'd think twenty years would be enough time.”

You shook your head, “Things are different now than they were. I see the way you're trying with Ellie, how you're opening up and being more vulnerable,” your thumb brushed the corner of his mouth involuntarily but neither of you flinched, “You love her, don't you?”

He closed his eyes again and nodded slowly, “I do,” he whispered, “It scares the hell outta me.”

“Of course it does. That's normal, Joel,” you reassured him softly, “And it doesn't make you weak either.”

He'd opened his eyes again and they'd drifted to Ellie, who was a fair distance away trying to readjust a cabin sign with a duck on it that had fallen over. He smiled fondly at her, staring in her direction for a few seconds before turning back to you.

“So which cabin are you gonna pick?” he asked, slowly pulling away from your touch and bringing his attention back to the food, “I hear the duck one is pretty popular.”

Your hand felt empty without his cheek under it but you understood; she was too close, if she looked in your direction she'd see the way you were standing together. You cleared your throat and started stirring the sauce as it began to simmer.

“I don't know, maybe the dog one. I miss my dog,” you frowned to yourself, “Or maybe the horse 'cause I miss Callus.”

“Now this conversation is just downright depressing,” he sighed dramatically, “How 'bout the sheep one? Reckon the bed'll be fluffier?” he grinned at you and you nudged him again, rolling your eyes playfully. “Or the pig one? Maybe the sheets'll smell like bacon.”

You made a face, “You're gross.”

“And you love it,” he said it with a flirtatious air that was palpable immediately and it stunned you momentarily, your eyes widening a bit as you felt your face get hot. At the same moment his smile faded and a look of recognition crossed his expression, like he realized he'd gone too far. He quickly picked up the pot with the pasta in it and walked a few steps away from you to drain it, pretending like he hadn't said anything.

You sighed to yourself and took the sauce off the heat, walking over to one of the picnic tables with your cheeks still burning.

I do love it, you idiot.

-

Joel stayed chipper during dinner despite his moment of sadness – and his moment of flirting. He ended up telling a story about the first time he'd visited a hot spring in his youth, both him and Ellie laughing through a particularly cheeky part about Tommy getting yelled at by their father for peeing in the water. You just sat there listening and watching the two of them, a smile practically plastered to your face. God... this was your family. This little trio of broken humans had become the most vital facet of your life, not only for your survival but your happiness, your joy, your love. Ellie had become your little pal; it made your heart feel like it was going to burst when you thought about how you'd taken on that older sister role that your own had left behind when she'd died. Relationships didn't disappear...they evolved, took on new forms.

And Joel had become... that, you weren't exactly sure. But he wasn't just your friend anymore, that much you knew from the way he looked at you, the way he surrendered to your touch, the way he touched you back. The way how every so often during his story his gaze would meet yours as a quiet reminder that he wasn't just trying to make Ellie laugh, he wanted to make you laugh too. You loved seeing him so animated, making faces and gesturing wildly while Ellie threw her head back and giggled with abandon. Part of you wanted to inch in beside him and lay your head against his shoulder while he talked, wanted to feel the vibration of his deep voice in your bones and feel the strength of his thick muscle against your temple. You just wanted him to hold you like he did when you were alone; you wanted him to always hold you.

“Well, I'm going to bed,” Ellie said with a yawn after the spaghetti was long gone and the fire had started to die down, “I'm in the duck cabin if you need me. I could take second watch if you want,” she looked at Joel expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

He chuckled, shaking his head, “We got that covered, you go on and get some sleep.”

“Night,” she called back to the both of you, already walking toward her cabin.

You both called back to her and watched as she disappeared behind the door of the cabin with the duck sign outside of it, which was no longer tilting to the side but firmly back in the ground. She'd fixed it.

“She loved that story,” you said with a smile, turning back to Joel, “She's gonna want you to tell it again tomorrow, guaranteed.”

“All good, it'll give me time to prep for my show in Vegas,” he replied cheekily, and you laughed.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you figured the time had come to ask about the cabin situation. Right before you were about to ask, Joel spoke.

“You get lost in thought a lot, you know,” he said quietly, and you looked up to see him staring at you tenderly, “Always wonder what you're thinkin' about.”

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, you hugged your legs to your chest and breathed deeply, breaking eye contact to look at the fire as you replied, “You, usually.”

He didn't say anything and you worried you shouldn't have said what you said, hugging yourself tighter. Figuring you couldn't dig yourself any deeper, you continued:

“I was thinking about which cabin we're gonna sleep in.”

When he didn't reply again you finally looked over at him, surprised to see that he was still looking at you. He didn't look angry or uncomfortable, but his expression wasn't unreadable either. He looked...content. He was giving you that familiar look that he did in the early mornings, blinking slowly, like he was savouring the little time he had left to just stare at you. You felt your face get warm and you broke eye contact, smiling down at your knees.

“Sheep, I think,” he finally broke the silence, voice coming out slightly breathless, “Let's see how fluffy that bed really is.”

-

This would be the first time you'd be sharing an actual bed with Joel, and in truth you were slightly terrified. The last time you'd been in a bed with a man it hadn't exactly been a quiet or comfortable experience, quiet being the operative word, and that's all you could think about now as you opened the cabin door and traipsed quietly through the living room, Joel walking behind you. You slipped your pack off your shoulders once you arrived in the master bedroom, laying your still-lit flashlight on the dresser so you both could see. You and Ellie had checked all the beds earlier and they actually weren't that bad, if not covered in a thick layer of dust that you'd had to shake out. You slowly made your way over to the bed, then looked over at Joel who was still standing in the doorway.

“We probably don't need our jackets,” you said to break the palpable tension, shrugging out of your heavy coat and laying it carefully on a chair in the corner, “There's a sheet, a duvet, and a quilt so it should be pretty warm.”

He nodded and removed his pack, then his coat, leaving him standing there in his plaid button-down and jeans. It was slightly comical that you were about to get in bed with a man who'd been wearing the same outfit for months, but it's not like you could talk – you'd been wearing the jeans, tank top, and sweater combo for almost the same length of time. Which reminded you...

“Oh, me and Ellie found some deodorant,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a lady speed stick, “It's not the manliest scent but I mean, it's a scent.”

He winced as he took it, and you were confused until he said, “I stink, don't I?”

“You actually don't,” you meant it too, smiling earnestly at him, “You kinda smell like pine needles most of the time, honestly.”

He huffed out a laugh and you watched as he reached the deodorant up into his shirt, exposing his stomach to you as he applied it. You caught a glimpse of his stitches, still holding up pretty good, but your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the trail of hair that lead from his belly button to his belt buckle, dark but tinged with a few grays here and there that sparkled in the glow of the flashlight. You suddenly felt a slight throb in your jeans and you quickly broke your gaze, turning back toward the bed and pulling the sheets back to distract yourself.

Now is not the time, you thought aggressively, searching the bedding one more time for anything you and Ellie might have missed, you've spent two weeks sleeping next to this man and now you wanna feel horny? Stop.

“Bright side is we can actually get clean tomorrow,” he said, tossing the deodorant back into your pack and walking around to the other side of the bed, not before flicking off the flashlight and plunging you both into total darkness.

“God, I know, I'm so excited,” you climbed into bed, trying to sound normal as you felt the mattress sink on his side as he did the same thing, “Hot water, can you imagine? I might not leave.”

He chuckled and it made you smile. He wants you here, you reminded yourself, there's no need to be so nervous.

You inhaled deeply and, before you could think too much about it, you curled into his side, arms finding their usual place around his solid form. Without any hesitation you felt Joel's hand at your back, holding you there. Part of you wanted to say something else, to keep talking to him, but the immediate comfort of his embrace quickly made your eyes close in defeat.

“'Night,” he whispered to you softly, “I'll wake you when it's time to head for the springs.”

You hummed in response, the promise of a hot bath fresh in your mind as you drifted off. It was that very specific image, the idea of you and Joel bathing together in the hot spring, that gave you one of the best dreams you'd had in a long time.

-

You were suddenly awoken by some kind of weird mewling, a high pitched breathless sound that sounded oddly familiar but you were too sleepy to place it. Your eyes tightened and you tried to ignore it; you'd been having such a good dream. Mere seconds ago you'd been standing in the middle of the hot spring with Joel, clothes abandoned, his bare arms wrapped around you and holding you flush against his naked body, waist deep in steaming water.

Irritated, you tried to bring the image back, only to be interrupted by Joel's voice in your ear saying your name. Your brow furrowed, followed by that weird moan again.

“Wake up,” Joel said again, repeating your name.

You slowly blinked your eyes open in confusion, the keening sound reverberating in your ears again, only to realize mere seconds later that the sound was coming from you. You also realized that you were no longer tucked into Joel's side, but were instead practically on top of him with his thigh between your legs. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull when you put two and two together.

You'd been riding his thigh. And moaning. In your sleep.

Your head snapped up and you immediately felt like you had to get away, yank yourself off of him and run out of the cabin as fast as humanly possible. You could survive in the woods by yourself, right? You didn't actually need to be going on this long trek with Joel and Ellie, right? You could just disappear and never have to face this humiliation, right?

“Oh my god,” you tried pulling back but felt his grip on your arms, keeping you from getting off of him, “Joel, I'm so sorry, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

“Shh,” he replied, and you wished you could see his expression in the darkness, “It's okay, don't be embarrassed, you're fine.”

“But I-”

“You've been doin' it for maybe fifteen seconds tops,” he reassured you, “I woke you up as soon as I realized. It's okay.” He was still holding you in place and your mind was too muddled to wonder why, so you just shoved your hands over your face, “Hey, it's alright, look at me.”

“I can't even see you,” you muttered into your hands. But god, you could feel him. His thick and strong thigh was tight between your legs, the material of his jeans pressing right against your centre in exactly the right place. You were pounding, beyond wet in your underwear and you were sure Joel could feel the heat you were radiating. Involuntarily, your hips bucked again and you shuddered out a breathless whimper at the sensation.

You felt his hands move from your arms and start to pry your fingers apart. When you opened your eyes and focused on what was in front of you, his face started to become slightly clearer in the darkness. His brow was furrowed and you could see that he was staring directly into your eyes, no signs of discomfort or embarrassment to be seen.

“I'm gonna ask you somethin' and I need you to answer me honestly,” he breathed, the sound travelling directly to your core. “I'm only gonna say it once, okay?”

You shivered, trying to focus on his voice, nodding in response to his words, “Okay.”

“You don't have to stop,” he stated, voice steady and sincere, “you can keep going. Do you want that?”

You stared, dumbstruck.

“Do you want to keep going?” he repeated softly, and without hesitation you buried your face in his warm neck, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as you bared down on him.

“Yes,” you practically moaned into his ear, “Please.”

“Okay,” he whispered, and you felt his arms wind around you, pulling you as close as possible to him, “C'mere.” The words practically set your nerve endings on fire and you groaned, pressing your face further against his skin and shutting your eyes tight, hips bucking under his arms.

Not even taking a second to think about what was happening, you started rubbing yourself against him again, this time fully aware of what you were doing. His arms held you tight to his body and helped you move into a rhythm, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips that had become exposed in the commotion. You whined into his neck, feeling the harsh prickles of his beard against your cheek as he helped you get off.

“Joel,” you whimpered, feeling one of his hands travel up the back of your shirt and press flush against your spine.

“I've got you,” he murmured, “Keep goin', don't think about it.”

You keened beneath his touch, hands coming up to thread through his hair as you turned your head slightly to nose against the heat of his throat. Him telling you not to think was laughable – you couldn't think of anything else other than the way your body felt entwined with his even if you'd wanted to. You could feel him everywhere, his hand still at your back, the other one travelling upwards to cradle the back of your head, holding you to his skin. The size of his palm against you, the wideness, it sent a wave of tingles throughout your entire being, causing you to emit another moan against his adam's apple. He was so large and solid compared to you and despite the heated desperation of your embrace, he still held you like you were precious, breakable. It made you that much wetter.

“There you go,” he breathed softly into your hair as you rutted against him, baring down on his thigh like your life depended on it, “Just feel it, take what you need.”

He'd never talked to you like this; the protectiveness was always there, the fondness, but the way he whispered to you now was special, private. He spoke to you like you were his, rotated your hips against his thigh like your body was an extension of his own. His hot breath was a steady presence at your ear, quickening in pace as he began to help you move faster, palming the bare flesh of your back and moving his hand upwards slightly so his fingers just barely brushed the skin of your breast. Part of you wanted to see his expression, see if he was just as turned on as you were, but the question was answered when you brushed against his crotch and felt the unmistakably hard length of him straining against his jeans. At your slight touch, he elicited a breathless groan in your ear.

It was enough to send you over the edge.

“I'm gonna come,” you practically sobbed, eyes still shut tight as you bucked wildly and moved your hands to grip his arms again, nails digging into the fabric of his button-down, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Good girl,” you heard him whisper into your hair, and you were gone, thighs clamping around him as your whole body began to shake. He just held you tightly and let you ride it out, murmuring “that's it,” and stroking his thumb against the skin of your back soothingly.

In any other circumstance you would have been ashamed at how quickly it took you to finish, but it had been years since you'd been this close to another person, and months since you'd had an actual orgasm. The fact that Joel had been the one to give it to you hadn't helped you hold out very long either. Your whole body suddenly felt like jelly, head heavy and eyes unable to open.

“Joel,” you moaned his name quietly, breathless as you lay spent on top of him, “I think I'm gonna pass out.”

He chuckled softly, stroking your hair, “Go ahead, I'm not goin' anywhere.”

“But you didn't...” you mumbled, feeling boneless as you felt yourself begin to drift, “What about you?”

“Shh,” he carefully adjusted you so you were sheltered against his side again, your hands immediately coming up to grip his button-down as you buried your face in his chest, “Don't worry 'bout me, you go back to sleep.”

“'Kay,” you whispered, sighing peacefully and winding your arms around his strong torso, smiling to yourself when you felt his hand in your hair again, thumb caressing the back of your head.

You swore you heard him say something else, but by then sleep had overtaken you. This time, you dreamed of sheep.

[69dias]

[baby don't go; i'm bad at being alone drabble] where the sanctity of a kitchen counter is ruined

w/c: 3.6k

warnings: breeding kink, impreg kink, slight d/s dynamics, jk is kinda mean omfg, fucking on a kitchen counter, they r soooooo fucking in love omg, unprotected sex which is BAD!

jungkook thinks there is no greater prize than domesticity. he has you, and every square inch of this shared apartment is a holy reminder of it; your framed photos on his walls, your lipstick prints on his coffee mug, your clothes in his drawer, you in his clothes, standing in his bathroom and in his shower and in the entranceway and in his kitchen.

wherever he turns, he finds something that reminds him that you’re with him, and he thinks each little speck of you in the nooks of his home are the answers — and if there’s just one true answer, he thinks it’s this.

to set the scene, picture a fall’s sunday morning somewhere in manhattan. there’s him, face still coated with sleep, footsteps heavy out of the bathroom, and there’s you. in the kitchen, a sweater too big for you hanging off your frame so the sun that pours in catches your skin like a halo. there’s you, with your hair pulled back to bare your neck, unraveled in all your glory, only for him to see. no lawyer, no boundaries, no walls put up, breathing life into every memory in the pictures hung up on his fridge when you move and the sun finally catches them, palms of your hand kissing the granite counters —

jungkook has these moments often, when he can feel the ground sweep from underneath his feet simply upon staring at you because how could he not? he’s spent half his life loving you, and the realization that he has you now settles between his ribs until he finds it difficult to fully inhale. 

it’s a sunday morning, and there may be just one answer in his life, and it’s you.

“you’re up?”

your voice gives him something to hold onto, something tangible to grasp as he blinks dumbly, trying to fathom what you’ve just asked when you look like that.

“huh? u-uh, yeah. mornin’ baby.”

you’re pulling a pan out of the cabinet that the both of you spent meticulously organizing on move-in day when he realizes that you’re about to make him breakfast, something he hates when you do alone. it really makes sense now; waking up before him and leaving him in bed when sleeping in on sundays is the ‘highlight of your entire week’, in your own words, the laced confusion in the tone of your voice when you’d asked him if he was awake.

jungkook crosses over the threshold of the kitchen, hands gentle on your wrists as he pulls the frying pan away from your hands, choosing to wrap them around his waist instead. he smells your shampoo from this proximity, smells his laundry detergent and his cologne in the knitted sweater you have on. he hears your yelp of surprise, and sees the way your eyebrows furrow when you realize his what his incentive is.

“i was gonna cook, jungkook, what the fuc—“

there is something about jungkook’s disdain for getting a meal cooked for him that you’ve never understood. back when you were kids, if anyone but his mother even attempted to make him food, he’d throw a fit, and that extended well into college when he’d snatch kettles for you when you’d try to boil him some water.

it’s never bled into his love for having other things done for him — he’d always be the first one to open his mouth and hand you a spoon to feed him, always be the first to ask you to do his skincare for him, he loved being taken care of but there was just something about having food cooked for him that he’d do anything to avoid, if the way his lips are attached to the side of your neck are any indication.

they feel soft on your skin, enough to make any rational thoughts, any questions as to why he hates you cooking for him; enough to make anything beyond the eruption of chills over your body dissipate into the cold morning. his inked hand splays across the expanse of your left thigh, calloused fingers dimpling your warm skin as he noses his way up to your jaw in soft nuzzles.

“what’s gotten —“ you pause to chuckle breathlessly and jungkook swears his eyes flash white for a second. “what’s gotten into you, hm?”

he pauses for a second, to tilt his neck up and smile against the angle of your jaw before laying a small kiss over the skin. “nothing. just, I think you look real pretty in my clothes.”

you open your mouth to protest, but jungkook takes advantage of it to slot his lips against yours before you can deny him the privilege of complimenting you. the way he bites your bottom lip, the silent permission he asks for before licking into your mouth with just enough fervency to spur you on, combined with his words hanging heavy in the air sends sporadic chills down your skin until they settle as a deep yearning at the pit of your stomach. 

it’s not often that jungkook takes you in the kitchen, preferring the couch, the bed or someplace where he can protect the sanctity of the literal meals you eat, but there’s something about the way you’re panting against his lips, hips bucking up into nothing when he hasn’t even begun yet, something about the desperation that laces your hands as they trace down the expanse of his back that has him throwing all rationality out the window in favor of twirling you around in his arm to press you against the granite.

your lips are pretty and pink, slightly agape as you tilt your head back into his shoulders, out of breath from how he’s just kissed you. he feels quite literally unhinged at the sight, his sweater falling off your shoulders when he pushes his hands down your body, aching, yearning to feel every square inch of you as soon as he can. jungkook’s body has a mind of its own now, hips pushing yours into the counter in front of you until your eyebrows knit in discomfort —

“wait, wait jungkook,” you turn yourself around in his hold, opting to lift your body onto the counter instead. his face searches yours, eyes wide in worry but you couldn’t care less, nothing but a breathy chuckle leaving your mouth as you pull him in between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. “nothing’s wrong. just this counter is really painful.”

he responds with another kiss, this time a lot more fervent as he tilts his head up into yours, lips moving in tandem with yours, hands intertwined with yours. it’s only when he breaks away to kiss down the column of your throat do you register just how hot this ordeal is; just how hot it is when he loses all of his composure to fuck you sitting on the kitchen counter. the thought barely lingers though, because you feel his deft fingers untangle from yours to run down the curve of your waist till he reaches the hem of his sweater, unceremoniously pulling it up and away from your body.

his kisses dot your sternum, body wracking with a shiver as the cold air envelopes you, but he doesn’t let you suffer for long, moving his arms so he can wrap you in his own body warmth. the small love bites he leaves are now filthy licks that he leaves, blowing on the trail of spit to torture your senses further, to leave you wanting him, wanting his embrace, needing him. jungkook seems pleased, too, finding your nipples hard from the cold when he finally trails the tip of his tongue down to your boobs. his hands cup the both of them, lips latching on to your right nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive skin until your back arches violently, hips lifting from the granite until he tsks against your chest.

“stay down, honey,” his voice comes out muffled, and you can’t tell if it’s because his mouth is full, or if it’s because your brain is so fuzzy from the pleasure that sparks against every nerve ending in your body. “be good.”

be good. his gentle assertion sends a wave of arousal down into your panties as he switches boobs, opting to pinch and flick at the one he’s wet so expertly with his mouth. your moans are choked out, head tilted to the ceiling, eyes shut tightly like you’re already on the precipice of release when he hasn’t even touched your pussy yet — it’s ridiculous how easy you are, something he mumbles out when he’s mapping out your stomach with his lips.

“jesus, baby. look at you. you’d fuck the counter if it meant getting off, huh?”

there’s a bite to his voice, just enough of a humorous lilt to let you know that he’s not actually being mean, and with the character of his words, the reassurance makes warmth bloom in your stomach, colored in with the arousal already settled in there. you can’t reply, something he doesn’t notice as he looks up at you, teeth nipping at the hem of your underwear. 

your hands travel down into his hair, manicured nails gently scratching at the scalp until his gaze on you falters, the reminder that he was sound asleep barely fifteen minutes ago making way to the front of his mind before he remembers the task at hand. 

jungkook shifts his weight to his knees, kissing along the fabric of your panties until you’re gasping, spreading your legs for him naturally —

this is natural; he’s come up to you and has you on the counter with your entire body unraveled for him. you have him on his knees and you haven’t even lifted a finger to make him feel a tenth as good as he’s made you feel. the two of you work in tandem, a testament to how well you fit each other, a testament to how soulmates don’t exist — how they’re made. it’s in the way he’s never too mean even when he’s engaging with his dominant side, the way you’re always responsive, the way the two of you have built your lives around each other. it’s the sacrifice and the redemption that comes at a head like this, with his face between your legs and the sun shining into your living room.

he gets you out of your head when he plants a kiss to your clit through the fabric of your panties before pushing his tongue against it, the adding friction from the fabric making the contact even more delicious. he has a routine, but he never makes it boring, if the way you’ve readjusted yourself onto your elbows so he can get a better angle is any indication. it’s a bit sloppy, the way he’s revving his throat up to spit onto your pussy, the way he’s licking at your clit like it’s the last meal you have, the way your broken moans color the air, echo through your home.

“shit — shit, jungkook. take ‘em off, fuck, please.” 

he pulls away to look up at you, eyes narrowing at the tone of your voice before he grabs the waistband of your panties, lulling you into the false comfort of thinking he’s going to heed to your request when he really does the opposite, pulling them up between your lips. the uncomfortable friction makes you grind downwards, counterintuitively making you whimper as your swollen clit makes contact with the drenched fabric. he tugs them up gently a couple of times, before pushing his head between your legs to continue eating you out, lapping up the arousal that pools from your pussy at the exorbitant dominance he’s just displayed, along with the pressure of your panties pressing onto your clit.

the discomfort doesn’t last long, though, not when he’s fucking you with his tongue, not when he’s shaking his head between your legs, and the way he has one hand between his legs to obsevenely rut into himself is indication that he’s just as turned on by this as you are. how could he not be, though, when your thighs are tense from how he’s making you feel, when your back is arched and your moans are choked in your throat because your breath is constructed from how he’s making you feel. 

the tension in your stomach makes you pull at jungkook’s hair, needing some sort of — any sort of — release, and his gentle hums reassure you that he won’t be pulling this high away from you. he moves his tongue up to your clit, suckling on it until you writhe on the counter so he has to use his free hand to hold you down, until your orgasm is close enough that you think you can taste it on your tongue, until he has you shouting his name out.

your legs tense when you look down at him and see his eyes on you, see his eyes staring at the jiggle of your tits, the curve of your body, the way your face contorts in his wake, and you feel yourself coming undone knot by knot. it’s powerful, but jungkook helps you through it, tongue stuck out so you can ride it out for as long as you need; so you can use him for as long as you need.

there’s a broken whimper of his name when he doesn’t pull away, and you suddenly become aware of how sore your elbows are when he lifts himself up, pulling your body with him so you’re sitting upright again. the weight of your orgasm settles between your ribs, making it a bit hard to breathe, and he doesn’t help by catching your lips in another kiss. you taste yourself on his lips, and his hands find their way to his sweatpants, shoving them down with practiced expertise before pulling away from the kiss.

his forehead presses against yours, eyes glinting as he smiles against your flushed skin. your breathing slows when he finally gets himself out of the confines of his boxers, and you instinctively get off the counter so you can return the favor, but his arms catch you before you can touch the ground —

“uh-uh, baby. not today, i gotta be inside you right now.”

from the looks of it, too, he’s not lying. his cock stands tall, nearly slapping the defined lines of his abdomen, pearly pre-cum dripping down the side as he jacks himself off a couple of times, pulling your legs in to wrap around his waist so he can align himself with your pussy.

he lets a small whimper out when the red tip makes contact with the warmth of your cunt, sliding it up and down until your eyes are squeezed shut in anticipation. this is part of the routine, you suppose, if you bar the times he has something to prove, bar the times he shoves himself into you all the way to the hilt until you’re preening under his body. today, he takes his sweet time, your moans mixing in the air and lingering as he mixes his pre-cum with your arousal, no doubt leaving a small puddle on your counter.

the filthiness of what you’re doing is part of what makes it so attractive; it’s like corruption in how you’re taking apart the sanctity of this part of your home, how you’re christening it with your bodies, how sex will make it purer, how it’ll leave an imprint on this counter — how neither of you will ever fully look at it without envisioning this moment.

it’s only when you move your own hand down to envelope his, to just get him in you, does he slowly push himself into the wet warmth of your pussy. the stretch is never easy, even though it’s been months, but he talks you through it. always.

“c’mon baby, almost in. good girl, yeah, breathe in —“ his eyes fix on your body, watching the slow inhales, the way your lips fall open, every inch of skin he can take in as he buries himself inside of you with a low groan. “that’s it honey. good job, baby.”

his tatted hand splays against your stomach, pressure just enough so you can really feel it, so you can feel more of him, even if his dick just kisses your cervix from this angle. the rock of his hips is intoxicating, slow and languid when he pulls himself out, gasping as every ridge of his cock is completely embraced by your pussy. 

“fuck, fuck, jungkook, that’s so good -“

“yeahh… yeah it’s good, can feel me all the way up here can’t ya?” he presses down on your abdomen, chuckling as a light squeak escapes your lips. “love your cunt, she gets all warm and soft after I get my tongue in her. look at her. go on, take a look.” 

his free hand tilts your jaw downwards, words coaxing your eyes open as you watch the pull of his cock in and out of your pussy, how he’s absolutely soaked whenever he pulls out.

“shit, i’m so wet, jungkook. this is so fucking good.”

for being so eloquent, you’re sure at a loss for words when you’re met with this sight, and he makes sure you know it.

“good enough for your silly head to just go blank, huh? not a thought in your brain when your cunt has a cock in it, yeah?”

you groan, gritty and needy in response, which only seems to spur him on.

“all mine, huh? yeah? gonna make me fuck a baby into you and make it true?”

jungkook and you talk about your future openly, and kids have always been part of this equation, but it’s been silently agreed upon that now is way too soon. regardless, though, it ignites something within you that you can’t suppress, and a moan tears itself out of your lungs, a gush of arousal pooling around his cock at his filthy words.

the worst part about jungkook, though, isn’t the dirty talk — it’s now observant he is. and he knows, and he’s never impartial to completely using it against you.

his hips still, using one finger to lift your jaw up again so you’re staring him straight in the eye. “you like that, huh? want me to fuck you full?”

you’re defiant, a bit embarrassed as pink coats your cheeks and you refuse to answer. he doesn’t take it, though, using his hand to grab your cheeks, smushing the skin a bit until he can move your head to answer for you. 

“gimme an answer, baby. want me dripping down your legs? hm?”

he uses the hold on your face to nod yes, continuing to fuck into you, rougher this time until the sting of his grip and the way his cock hits just the right spot makes tears gather in your eyes.

“right there, huh?”

“y-yeah, hnnngg, fuck! right fucking there, right there.”

it’s like a mantra, a repeated sequence of the only words you can think of — jungkook, fuck, right there, so good. he’s not much better at this stage, cock twitching inside you as you roll your hips up to meet him halfway.

a hand slides between your bodies, dipping down to gather the obscene amount of arousal from where his cock meets your pussy, before he uses it to rub tight figure-eights onto your clit. the coil in your stomach gets impossibly tighter, moans and the most filthy of squelching tainting the air along with skin slapping as he fucks into you relentlessly, fingers never losing their rhythm on your clit.

your head looks back, and his falls into the crook of your neck as he groan slowly into the sweaty skin. he’s beyond himself, and you’re not better if the way your legs tighten around his waist so as to bring him closer somehow is any indication.

the slam of his cock is delicious, even when it gets sloppy, even when neither of you can make out words anymore, your vision going foggy as the touch on your clit makes it too hard for you to hold off on cumming. 

“ah — ah, jungkook, please, gonna fucking — I’m fucking, fuck! gonna fucking cum.”

he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t respond other than a barely there nod into your neck, letting you get higher and higher and impossibly higher until you crash, body tensing in his tight grip as he jackhammers into you. it’s much rougher than your first, and you convulse as he holds you, as he forces you to just take it, hips getting sloppy and losing their rhythm when it dawns on him how close he is.

jungkook holds his end of the promise, moving you so your back presses against the granite, the cold a relief to your burning skin. he nearly bends you in half, cock slamming into you until he stops, burying himself all the way when you feel ropes of his cum painting all over your insides. 

he’s quiet, a breathy whimper of your name, eyebrows knitted together like the pleasure aches, and it’s the hottest thing you swear you’ve ever witnessed. 

you lay there, and he pulls back until his soft tip is all that’s left inside you like a plug. when he pulls it out, always true to his word, a lewd display follows, white on your skin as he leaks out of your cunt. jungkook, however, doesn’t seem to think of it as anything of the sort, simply watching it in amazement until he feels your eyes burn into his face.

the look you share after is soft, and jungkook could die in this moment without regrets, because he has you, and you’ve just soiled the kitchen counter and there’s nothing else that he could want from life anymore, especially when he hears your voice:

“you don’t like me cooking for you that much?”

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 5)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 (Not Required) Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

Visiting Nanami at work...

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, slightly slightly suggestive, office things

A/n: The pacing is a bit off in this, I'll do Gojo in the next volume (which will hopefully be better).

Within your last three months of marriage, it had become even more clear to you just how organized your husband Nanami was. 

The talented Jujutsu Sorcerer, and current salaryman, was always on time to wake up, go to work, and come home, never varying more than a couple of minutes. It was easy to plan things that way, knowing exactly when to greet him and have dinner ready. 

He kept to the usual schedule, drinking his morning coffee on the living room table while looking over some documents on his computer. It was a simple part of his routine, and while rather mundane, it somehow produced some much needed peace before heading to work. 

He had gotten used to the banging of pots and pans, and the subtle hums that came out of your mouth as you cooked, having finished making breakfast and packing his lunch box for the day. You carefully balanced his plate and the basket of bread in your arms, safely setting them on the table next to his coffee cup, and made the second trip to grab your own, while he packed up his things. 

Sitting down, you couldn’t help but smile watching Nanami eat the food you made. He had a long day of work to go, various meetings to attend and many papers to read. To give him the gift of a good breakfast every morning was one of the greatest joys you had, knowing that he would need it in the hours to come, along with his lunch of course. 

There wasn’t much left for Nanami to do that morning. His clothes had been picked out by you and placed neatly in a pile, his breakfast was made, also by you, and his briefcase and shoes were set by the door for when he left. Despite your husband’s usual organized manner, he seemed to have forgotten one important thing as he stepped out the door, another boring work day ahead of him. 

You had already moved on to get the morning chores done, scrubbing down the bathroom tiles and sink, and throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry. You watched out the window while wiping the dishes with soapy water, taking a deep sigh of relief knowing you were almost done. The sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly throughout the house, and while the weather was lovely, rain hadn’t fallen on your plants in quite a while. So you took a watering can and went outside, tending to the fruits and vegetables and harvesting the ripe ones. 

Time really does fly when you’re having fun, which you were, seeing the variety of colors fill the basket, a testament of your hard work and care. When you got back into the house, fully prepared to relax on the couch and read, you noticed something peculiar on the kitchen counter.

A lunch box. It was none other than your husband, Kento Nanami’s, lunch box.

The clock read 11:12, meaning less than an hour until his lunch break. Of course this was not a regular occurrence, so the thoughts that went through your head were a bit past rational. “What if he doesn’t have money with him… or doesn’t have time to go to a store?” you mumbled to yourself, pacing around the kitchen. 

There was only one thing to do, in your mind. You could just bring the lunchbox to Nanami, right? So you quickly grabbed a bag and placed the box into it, as well as your wallet, and got out the door. It was about a 20 minute walk to the station at your speed, and a 15 minute ride to get to his building. 

Stepping out of the station, you gazed widely at the imposing building that Nanami worked in. Though you had seen it before, then it wasn’t surrounded by large crowds of people walking around the city.

You dashed inside the building, the lobby filled with salarymen grabbing coffee from the shop on the first floor. To that you had to facepalm, seeing the menu had sandwiches and other savory items. Of course he would have the opportunity to get lunch, all the other workers did it.

Turning back was an option, in your dress and flats you looked quite out of place, but it was 11:55, and Nanami would be on break in 5 minutes. It would be a waste of money to buy a sandwich, when you had an even better lunchbox waiting for him. 

When the clock struck 12:00, you started to find your way throughout the massive building, to the secretary’s desk. Nanami and the rest of his department would be on break, so you could visit him in his office. 

The secretary buzzed you up to his floor, and you wandered around past the mass of people heading to the elevator. Peaking around each doorway you looked for Nanami’s blonde hair and dark gray suit, having not seem him leave. The striking figure of your husband was hard to miss. 

Nanami sat hunched over in his chair, rummaging through his things in search of something. He was the only one who hadn’t left the room yet, letting out a grunt when his hands came up empty. You silently walked over to him, happy that you were able to find him so quickly. 

“Kento, darling,” you stated meekly, smiling to greet Nanami. He looked over his shoulder in surprise, you had never been to his office before. “Y/n, what are you doing here?”  He inquired, eyeing you. It couldn’t have been easy, figuring out where everything was and making the journey here. 

He smoothed his hand over his neck, leaning to the side. “I appear to have forgotten my lunch, could that be it?” he asked, not waiting for your response. You nodded, reaching into your bag to hand him the box. “Right on time, thank you, my love,” he reciprocated your smile, the shyness knocked off your face. “While you’re always welcome to come visit me, you really don’t have to come all this way for something like this…” he started clearing the papers off his desk. “I didn’t realize you had a cafe downstairs,” you laughed, “and that the streets here are so busy during the day.” 

“Their sandwiches are fine, but I’d still rather have this - it certainly has more nutritional value,” Nanami relaxed, setting his lunchbox on the desk. “I don’t know what slipped my mind, I’m sorry you had to come deliver this, Y/n,” he stood up, adjusting his tie with his hand. 

“I should probably be getting back now, Kento,” you frowned, not having much of any reason to stay. Your own lunch was at home, and the train would only get busier. Nanami gently gripped your shoulder, leading you to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

“It tends to settle down a little while people are eating, why don’t you stay a bit longer? Only a few minutes - I enjoy your company, afterall,” he smirked as you took in the office around you. “The view is beautiful,” you looked out the window, your hand mindlessly fiddling with your other one as you avoided his gaze, towering over you until he sat down. It was the same sky and weather that was at home, but you were with him, and that made it so much better.  

“Though it makes getting around a bit longer, this office has the best view, and is quite secluded,” he picked up his fork and took a bite of food. “For the many meetings with clients I have, it works out well as a background, and for soundproofing,” you nodded, listening intently. “My other coworkers are on this floor, and the one below it,” he mentioned, eating more. You continued your conversation a short while longer. 

“It’s already 12:20, I’ll let you leave now,” he stared at his watch, slightly annoyed that the second hand kept ticking. You stood up, feeling the lack of weight on your shoulder as your bag was nearly empty. A reminder of your purpose for being in the office in the first place.

“Do other wives visit often?” you asked, curious, as Nanami joined you. “A few, but mostly at the end of the day,” he took your hand, as the two of you walked out into the rest of the floor. “Most of my coworkers are single,” he sighed, as you looked a bit surprised. 

“Maybe I should start forgetting my lunch more often,” Nanami met your flustered gaze, you didn’t want to say goodbye and wait for hours for him to come home. “You could see more of the work we do here,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug, “and all those dull trainees could see what a beautiful wife I have,” you blushed red. 

“Goodbye, Kento, I love you,” you started walking out the building, cheeks flushed and a smile not leaving your face. “Stay safe, Y/n, I love you too,” he replied, watching you leave. “Only a few more hours…” he mumbled in his head, “a few more hours…”

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Male!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Um *clears throat* Hello, I’m new in discovering your fics, and you’re the first writer I find who writes for male reader x Natasha Romanoff! I’ve only ever seen writers write for only female reader- BUT I UNDERSTAND REALLY, Natasha displayed major lesbian vibes and etc, and I fully support it really. But uh, as a male myself, and having Natasha as my favorite MCU character, it’s been rare finding fics for male reader, but again I’m not complaining, I fully support writers writing female writers!

Sorry I’m rambling, I just wanted to request, if you’re okay with it, something with male reader x Natasha with Father’s Day as the theme? Perhaps maybe Nat surprises reader that they’re gonna have a baby and all that? Of course there needs to be smut involved, I’ve read all your fics and clearly smut is a must have for the fic! Perhaps some daddy kink to throw in the mix?

And again, if it’s not on the books, I’ll understand!

AN: Enjoy, anon!

Natasha stares down at the little plastic stick in her trembling hands, blinking rapidly to make sure she’s not seeing blurred. There are two lines on the little window, matching the symbol for “Pregnant.”

She had never thought this could be possible, given what she had thought had happened in the Red Room, but maybe that hadn’t been an entirely honest truth--not that she was complaining. 

She thinks about how she’s going to tell you, knowing how much you always wanted to be a father, but had accepted that biologically having children with her might have been a huge challenge. Maybe it wasn’t as difficult as either of you thought after all.

Natasha knows she can barely keep the news hidden for long, so she wraps the pregnancy test up carefully and hides it. She goes to make dinner before you come home, deciding to cook your favorite meal instead of her planned one.

The smell of sizzling steak greets you the moment you open the front door, and you’re shocked for a moment because Natasha had texted you that she was going to make spaghetti and meatballs instead. Not that you’re upset, you’re always grateful when she cooks for you. But steak was more of a special occasion kind of meal, and your personal favorite.

“Nat honey? I’m home,” you call out, dropping your work bag at the door and slipping off your shoes.

“In the kitchen!”

You walk through the living room and find your girlfriend standing at the stove, moving an impressively thick cut of meat from cast-iron pan to a plate.   

“That looks really good, babe,” you say, greeting her with a kiss before going to help set the rest of the table.

“I made a salad, it’s in the fridge if you can get that out.”

“Sure.” You’re tempted to ask the occasion, but you wait. You grab the big glass bowl of salad and place it on the table. Natasha brings over two plates, one steak almost twice the size of the other, and puts the bigger one down in front of you. 

“Thanks for cooking, Nat. I’m starving,” you say, eagerly grabbing your fork and knife and carving into the meat. Natasha clears her throat, offering you the salad bowl and you relent, making sure to take a healthy portion of vegetables to balance out the pure protein on your plate. 

The meal is finished in relative silence--you would’ve struck up more conversation with her, but were too busy scarfing down your steak. It’s only when the last piece is gone that you sit back, patting your belly and smiling at her.

“That was amazing, Nat. What was the occasion?” you finally ask.

Natasha bounces in her seat, as if she had been waiting the whole time for you to ask. “You’re not gonna believe it, babe,” she says, getting up and grabbing something from behind the sink. She holds it out to you, wrapped in a napkin.

Slowly, you unravel it, surprised to see that it’s a pregnancy test, but even more surprised when you see that it’s showing a positive result.

“Is this...Is this yours?” you ask, not realizing how stupid the question is until it comes out of your mouth.

“Yes!” Natasha squeals, throwing herself at you and wrapping her arms around your waist tightly. 

“Oh my God.” You squeeze her back, trying to comprehend the meaning of the pregnancy test. You can’t believe it. Natasha had told you she couldn’t get pregnant, so you had never bothered to use protection with her, but that wasn’t to say you didn’t want to be or were not ready to become a father. It was one of the few dreams you had carried with you your whole life, and while you had been a little sad about Natasha’s situation, she was still open to adoption and you knew you didn’t need to be biologically related to your child to be a good father.

“I can’t believe it, Nat,” you say, pressing a kiss to her head.

“You’re gonna be a daddy. My daddy.”

The word makes your head spin, and also causes a tightening at the front of your pants. You look down at yourself, slightly embarrassed, and Natasha caresses your growing bulge, causing your hips to jerk forward at the contact. 

“Bedroom?” is all you can get out of your mouth before she takes your hand and drags you out of the kitchen. Both of you make quick work of your clothes and you join your girlfriend on the bed, your hands running along her sides with a soft reverence. 

“I love you so much, Nat,” you say, kissing her. “You’re gonna be the best mother to our child.”

“Our child,” she repeats, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. You wipe them away and press your forehead to hers, not saying anything for a moment as your hand goes down and rests on her flat belly. Of course, it’s too early for her to show or for you to feel anything, but you still cannot wrap your head around the idea that you and Natasha are finally going to have a child together. 

Natasha scratches up and down your back, digging her nails impatiently into your shoulder blades. You rock your hips against hers, your cock hardening faster when it rubs against the insides of her thighs. 

“I want you, Daddy,” Natasha pleads, and this new use of the term has all the blood rushing down to your cock so fast you think you might pass out. 

“You can have me, Nat,” you insist, leaning back to guide your tip to her entrance. You push into her gently, still wanting to be gentle with her even more than before, and her velvet walls wrap around your member with a familiar warmth. “Fuck,” you mutter, rolling your hips in short strokes, resisting the urge to pound into her without abandon. 

“More,” Natasha demands, her hands curving around the back of your thighs and trying to pull you into her. “You don’t have to be careful with me,” she says, but you can’t imagine being rough with her anymore. 

But the pulsing and squeezing around your cock overtakes your willpower and Natasha moans loudly as you finally begin slamming into her, driving your cock deep into her with each stroke. 

“Yes, just like that, Daddy,” she whines, holding onto her knees to keep them as wide as possible. You watch with drool on your lips as your cock thrusts in and out of her soaking pussy. Your entire body begins to tremble as you feel yourself ready to finish. 

“N-Nat, I’m gonna...I’m gonna...” you pant.

“Finish in me,” Natasha says, and the reminder that the thought that you don’t have to pull out because she’s already pregnant causes you to erupt instantly. Hot ropes of cum pulse out of your cock, and the effort, combined with the heavy meal you just had, causes you to almost collapse on top of Natasha. You wrap your arms around her, dropping your head onto her chest as she strokes your hair softly. 

“I’m so happy you’re the one I get to start a family with,” is the last thing you hear Natasha say before you fall asleep.

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

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[anonymous--writings]

Butter Roll Headcanons

He has large hands, big enough to cover a fellow cookie’s face.

Great hand control, is definitely the type of person who can hold multiple things in one hand with ease.

Has a strong grip, and can definitely leave your hand aching for a while if he holds it and squeezes too hard.

He has amazing precision with cooking utensils (knives, scissors, whisks, spatulas, etc.) and is an overall god in the kitchen (the Gordon Ramsay of Cookie Run kingdom but kid-friendly).

Works out (has to stay strong to be able to carry heavy pots and pans around).

Has INSANE heat resistance (he can hold a nigh-boiling pot or hot grease pan and mostly be fine).

Multitasker

Has ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder)

Workaholic, absolutely obsessed with his work. (Actually canon or at least implied.)

Master manipulator, not afraid of lying or throwing others under the bus (calling them out) for his own gain. (Canon or at least implied.)

Anatomy freak, I feel like I don’t have to explain this.

Incredibly patient (kind of canon seeing he didn’t falter in front of Matcha), it’s almost impossible to get him angry.

When he IS angry (yes, it’s possible), he’ll start off nice but his voice will get more commanding, and when he’s fully angered he’ll drop the cheery attitude and talk in a low, monotone voice until he’s not angry anymore.

He’s literally one of my favorite cookies and he hasn’t been out for more than two weeks 😭

If anyone has any headcanons about him, feel free to let me know!

[eds6ngel]

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part four

summary: after steve kisses you at the easter brunch, some serious confidentiality breaches come to light. with this, how will steve explain to alena the reasons for your provoked behaviour towards him?

part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ˚⋆｡˚ full masterlist.

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. a whole lot of angst. hurt. a tiny bit of fluff if you squint. mentions of heartbreak. deep life talks to children. love realisations. mentions of food. mentions of alcohol. slight age gap [r is 24, steve is 29]. alena attempting to be a matchmaker. more warnings in future chapters! [3.4k].

After the diabolical mess of your recess break, you wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and braved the rest of the day.

With a death glare to Steve as you sent Alena off for the afternoon, you drove home with the music blasting, attempting to drown out your overflowing thoughts.

Entering your apartment, you throw your keys on the countertop, Amy turning around from where she was cooking a pasta dish for the two of you, “Hey, what the hell happened?”

“He fucking kissed me, Ames. Like slotted his lips against mine kind of kiss,” you reply with a huff, putting your head between your arms.

“Yeah,” she turns around, heading over to the sink with her saucepan and emptying the pasta into the colander, “That’s kind of how kisses work, hun.”

“No,” you grumble, lifting your head up once again, “He could’ve just pecked me. Would’ve made the situation a whole lot easier.”

Amy tips the now drained pasta into the pan of sauce, mixing the two ingredients together, humming away to your sentence, “I think you’re so hung up over this because you actually enjoyed the kiss. Am I correct?”

You walk over to her by the stove, watching the pasta and sauce combination bubble away, you leaning over and sprinkling in some basil. “I mean, it was nice…”

“Mhmm, that’s code word for ‘That was the best kiss of my entire life.’”

You huff in aggravation, “What do I do now, Ames? I told him to get the fuck out and I glared him down when he collected his daughter.”

She grabs two bowls from the cabinet, you moving out the way as she collects them from above your head. You, by routine, head over to the drawer to grab two forks, Amy replying, “Well, from what you told me at Christmas, you told him that you couldn’t date him, right?”

You nod, Amy using her wooden spoon to evenly distribute the food, “Then that’s his problem! He broke the boundaries you set in place! You can’t blame yourself for that, hun.”

She throws the dirty dishes into the sink, you putting the forks neatly in the bowls and taking them over to the table, “Yeah, but I didn’t back away. I enjoyed it, Ames. I am at a partial fault in this.”

She brings over two glasses, setting them in front of your bowls of pasta, “Nuh uh, I’m not having that. You can’t help the feelings you feel. He initiated the kiss, fully knowing that not only you feel the same back, but that you can’t date him. He’s ruining your life Y/N. He’s ignoring your reasons in favour of his own feelings!”

She takes a seat opposite, a bottle now sitting in front of you, the red liquid on full display, “But, I like him Ames! I really do like him, but this fucking job I have won’t allow me to. I’ve searched and searched and I keep getting the same answers of having to wait until his daughter is fully out of my everyday life. That’s four years away! I’ll be 28 by that time!”

Amy sighs, giving you a sympathetic look as she reaches for the bottle, screwing open the lid, “Hun, you’re incredibly stressed. It’s Spring Break now, you get a wonderful two weeks away from not seeing his face. And then once you get back, it’ll be a mere two months until Summer Break. Then, you’ll most likely never see his face again.” She begins to pour the red wine into your glasses, “For now, I want you to relax, enjoy this pasta I made and drink as much wine as you want. And considering your life at the moment, this bottle is going to be empty in less than an hour.”

You laugh softly at her comment, grabbing your wine glass and taking a sip, letting the liquid gently slip down your throat, “Yeah, I suppose I deserve a break. It’s called Spring Break for a reason.”

She takes a gulp before replying, “Exactly. Now, onto my life. You’ll never guess what happened with Nick today…”

And that is how you spent the rest of your evening: two very drunk women in their twenties, gossiping about life’s dramas whilst pampering themselves with every skincare product known to man.

It was lovely to have a female roommate who understood you. That was the beauty of womanhood. You would always connect on such a deeper level than you would with any man. And that was incredible.

You spent Spring Break attempting to process and live through your emotions. It spent many days tirelessly journaling your every thought to evenings crying into Amy’s shoulder about how shit men were.

But, it helped. Which meant when you arrived back in your homely classroom in the middle of April, you were ready to face whatever challenges this semester threw at you.

You knew you would see his face every morning and afternoon, but you weren’t gonna let that effect you as a human being. You knew your boundaries, your worth, you communicated that with him, and if he continues not to listen, then you don’t deserve him in your life. Simple as that.

As always, you were laying out your morning worksheets, ready for the children to complete when they arrived. However, a knock can be heard at your door, you turning your head to see the principal standing there in his presentable suit. “Good morning Y/N.”

You smile at him, although questioning why he came to your classroom. You were aware of the upcoming semester’s calendar events, so there was no particular reason he would be doing random classroom checks, right? “Good morning Daryl. How are you this morning?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you. I was wondering if I could just borrow you for a few minutes down in my office? Won’t be a long chat, just something we need to ask you about. Is that all right?”

You put the remaining worksheets on your desk, looking up at the clock to see that it would be at least thirty minutes before the first student arrived. “Of course!”

“Great, just follow me,” he replies, signalling you with his arm as you head down the hallway.

Once you reach his office, one of the front office staff is also present, waiting patiently for you to arrive. You take a seat, Daryl (otherwise known as Mr. Warlock) sitting opposite you at his desk.

“Now, during the Spring Break, Brenda here had to check our security cameras in regards to a stolen laptop from the fifth grade classroom. Don’t worry, that has nothing to do with you, but for safety reasons, we checked the security cameras of the other classrooms around that time just in case anything else went missing.”

You look at him with a confused expression as he turns the monitor around. You take in the image in front of you as you try to remain innocent. A blurry photo of none other than you and Steve kissing is shown right in front of you.

“Now, that is you, correct?”

You look at him in the eyes, keeping your face neutral as you nod, “That is me, yes.”

“Good, don’t want to accuse you of anything that isn’t true. Now, we have a strict no romance policy at this school, you are aware of that, correct?”

“I am sir, yes.”

He nods as he continues, “Now, since we didn’t get the previous context at first, Brenda asked Linda at the front desk if she had let anyone in, maybe a romantic partner of yours that had brought in something that you had forgotten. But, with her denial, we had to follow this man’s initial entry.”

As he flips through multiple images, there are red circles drawn around Steve’s figure. One of him talking to you prior to the kiss, one of him sitting on the rug, and the final one: him walking into the classroom hand in hand with his daughter.

There was no way out of this one. You were fucked.

“Am I correct in assuming this is the same man?”

You look down to the floor in embarrassment, your eyes no longer allowing you to stare into his, “That is the same man, yes,” you weakly reply.

Daryl leans back in his chair, pinching his eyebrows as he sighs, “I am extremely disappointed Y/N. You have been one of our top teachers here at Hawkins Elementary. I hadn’t seen better grades before you arrived. And now, you have thrown away your whole career for this. I assume you understand where I am going with this?”

You try not to let the tears spill, “I do, yes.”

He leans forward, looking into your eyes, although, you don’t look back, “This is a complete breach of student confidentiality, our whole team unanimously agreed on this in our meeting. Now, you are in luck considering this is our final semester of the year. I’m giving you this final semester to teach here at Hawkins Elementary and then I want you gone. Do you understand?”

You nod sadly, “I understand sir, yes. I am so sorry.”

He huffs in disappointment, “You should be very strongly feeling that. I am saddened to have to let you go if I’m being totally honest with you. And I’m also ashamed as this will be going on your permanent record, which will make it extremely difficult for you to get hired in another teaching position for a long time. It’s disappointing really considering how great you are at teaching kids. But, those are the rules set in by the state of Indiana, and I can’t be breaching them.”

You nod, “I understand. I know it means nothing now, but again, I really am sorry. I’ll leave here when I finish up the semester.”

“Thank you,” he replies, standing up and leading you back towards the door, “I’m saddened it’s ended like this. I hope you reflect on your behaviour and realise the damage that this has done. I wish you luck on your future endeavours.”

You purse your lips, “Thank you, Daryl. It’s been a pleasure working here. I mean… you know… teaching the kids, nothing else…”

“Don’t tie yourself in more knots Miss. L/N. I suggest you head back to your classroom now, your students should be arriving soon.”

The use of your last name felt like spiders crawling up your neck. You knew that your boss only called people by their surnames when he was being completely serious. Which understandably in this situation, he was.

“Of course,” you reply quickly, “I’ll head off. Bye now.”

Once you realise you are out of his eye-line, you let out a small growl of anger, Steve seeing you and saying, “Good morning Y/N— Hey, what’s wrong?”

Without a doubt in your mind, you simply sneer at him, “Go to hell, Steve,” walking straight into your classroom and slamming the door, completely forgetting that Alena was right beside him.

But, why does it matter anymore? You’re already fired. What’s one inappropriate phrase going to do to your ruined permanent record?

Steve is driving Alena back home after her day at school. However, this time is unusual. Alena is usually a babbling mess about her adventurous day, but today the pair sit in silence, Alena twiddling with her thumbs as the sound of the radio plays silently in the background.

“Daddy,” she mumbles, Steve quickly looking over and replying, “Yes, pumpkin?”

“Why was Miss. L/N mean to you this morning?”

He sighs, the inevitability of his daughter recognising the tension between you two finally coming to light. “You know sometimes people can hurt others? Like… that time when Timmy rubbed his mud-covered hands on your favourite dress?”

She nods at him, Steve asking her, “And how did you react to that?”

“Umm,” she thinks for a second, “I yelled at him. Wait— Did you ruin Miss. L/N’s dress?”

Steve chuckles to himself, his daughter always knowing how to slightly lighten the mood, “No sweet-pea, but do you remember why Timmy said he did that?”

“He said he did it because he loves me— Oh my God,” she exclaims in the most dramatic voice, “Are you in love with Miss. L/N?”

The excitement on his daughter’s face makes the situation all the more saddening. He understands your reasoning, but if you wanted to, he wanted to, and his own child was more than happy to let it happen, why on Earth could the government prevent you from living out that life of love?

He nods, trying not to let a few tears fall, “I am pumpkin, yes. Daddy is in love.”

She bounces on her seat, kicking her feet and giggling with a cheesy smile, “I love Miss. L/N and now you do too! Does that mean I will get to see her all the time?”

The knife kept sinking deeper and deeper into his heart, “That’s the problem sweetheart, I can’t be in love with her.”

She huffs in annoyance, flailing her arms up in the air, “Why not?”

“Because she’s your teacher. Daddies can’t date their daughter’s teachers. That’s the rules.”

Her face turns to one of forced anger as she sinks in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, “Stupid rules.”

Steve moves his hand from the steering wheel to rub his daughter’s shoulder in support, sighing out, “I know sweetie, I agree with you.”

She sits up again, begging to her dad, “Can’t you just break the rules? Just this one time?” She holds up one finger as she drags out, “Pleaseeee?”

His daughter’s persistency was making it harder to keep his emotions stabilised, him replying, “I’m sorry sweetheart, but Miss. L/N said no. And we know what we do when people say no.”

Alena sinks in her seat once more, her once angry expression now turning into a frown. However, her mind was also racing, thinking of many different ways to convince you to date her dad. And she was willing to try them all out.

By the start of May, you couldn’t hold in your secret any longer. Kids were little balls of emotion after all, you had to give them time to process your departure.

The kids were all sat silently on the mat in front of you. It was the Friday three weeks before the end of the school year, you praying that the time you gave the kids was enough for them to take it all in.

“Okay everyone! I have some very important news!” you shout calmly, the kids eyes shining up at you at your announcement.

“Now, as we all know, you will be moving up to second grade after the summer and I’ll no longer be your teacher,” you say, a few faces frowning at the reminder, “But, I will also be leaving this school completely. I won’t be teaching here anymore.”

“So, we won’t ever see you again?” Harry asks, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

His reaction made your emotions start to pour out too, you holding back the tears. “Um,” you cough, “That sadly will be the case. But, that’s life, you know? Not everyone is meant to stay forever.”

“But, I want you to stay forever!” Ashley wails, a few kids following suit as they begin to feel comfortable in the depressing atmosphere.

“Hey, hey, guys,” you softly say, directing the attention of the kids once more, “It’s okay, I promise. You still have three more weeks with me yet! The most important thing is we’re gonna make lots of new memories and have tons of fun before I go. That’s great, right?”

The kids nod unanimously, many wiping their tears away, as you begin to direct them out to their parents for the end of the day. Many parents had shocked looks on their faces from their children’s puffy, red eyes, but it seems like the kids took on the task of explaining the situation for you.

That was the positive thing about teaching seven-year-olds, they were extremely open.

It was currently Monday lunchtime at Hawkins Elementary, you sending the kids off to the lunch hall for the next hour, glad to be spending some time to yourself. The leaving process was hard, you slowly removing non-essentials from your classroom day by day, the complete classroom clean-up having to take place the first Monday of Summer Break.

However, after sending the last group of students on their way, Alena continues sitting at her seat, twiddling her thumbs as she looks to the floor.

“Hey honey,” you say softly, hanging up the children’s paintings to dry, “Why haven’t you gone to lunch with your friends?”

“I wanna ask you something,” she quietly whispers, you stopping your task and sitting on the small, blue seat next to her.

“Ask away my love,” you smile.

“Um…” she starts, seemingly nervous to ask the question she desired, “Are you leaving because of my daddy?”

The words that came out of the seven-year-old’s mouth shock you to your core. What the fuck did Steve tell her?

You cough slightly, trying not to let the situation become too uncomfortable. Well, it was you who was more uncomfortable, the young girl sat beside you was just curious. “Honey, there’s some things as teachers that we can’t share with you. You know how daddy has probably taught you not to give out your full name to strangers?”

She nods as you explain further, “Well just like how you can’t do that, I can’t tell you why I am leaving. It’s a thing called privacy, sweetheart.”

“But… But you aren’t a stranger to me!” she begins, the next words she speaks being the upmost truth you’ve ever heard in your life. “It just… Daddy loves you, but he said he can’t love you because you’re my teacher. But, if you’re leaving, does that mean you broke the rules? Did you get in trouble?”

You pursed your lips as you stared into Alena’s blue eyes. It was heartbreaking that a seven-year-old girl figured out the ways of life that young. She shouldn’t be knowing all this stuff, be understanding the rules of the education system surrounding love and relationships. And to say you were angry at Steve for telling his daughter his love for you was an understatement. No parent should get their kid involved in the middle of their relationship drama. That was strictly between the two of you.

But, you were already fired. No amount of disguising the truth was going to improve your permanent record. It was fucked. So, what did you have to lose?

You nod, taking her small hands in your own, “Yes, honey, we did break the rules. Your daddy and I kissed and the principal found out. I have to leave because I broke the rules, that’s what he said. Now, you can’t go telling your friends that, okay? This is a secret between just us.”

You tried your hardest to explain it in a way that her young brain would understand, not going into too much detail of the actual ins and outs of the situation involving the security cameras and confidentiality breach.

She nods, “Okay, I won’t tell. But… it’s not fair that you have to leave. You love daddy too, right?”

That was the burning question. Did you love him? Or did you not?

You sigh, “I do love him, yes sweetheart. But, that’s just how life is sometimes. We can’t be with everyone we love.”

You hated that you had to admit that truth to a kid. She should be learning about the hardships of love in her teenage years, not as a seven-year-old.

“Life is stupid,” she mumbles out, pouting as she crosses her arms. Her facial expression makes you giggle softly, beginning to stand up and hold out your hand, “Come on, you’re gonna miss lunch at this rate.”

Her lips curl up in a smile at the mention of lunch, her wrapping her hand in yours as you lead her down to the lunch hall, asking her what she was eating for today.

Because after all, that was your favourite part about teaching: the innocence of kids distracting you from your everyday problems. And now, you wouldn’t even have that anymore.

this is the penultimate chapter guys! one more chapter to go to complete this five part series! i hope it ends in a way that you all love! plus, i may or may not be allowing you to have input in spinoff ideas :)

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof comment if you want to be added!!

→ next chapter.

[osiris-iii-bc]

Papa’s playlists - music headcanons

Sometimes when I listen to music I mentally associate what I’m listening to the Papas, so I thought it would have been fun to imagine a 10 songs playlist for/of each Papa. I have chosen the songs by their personalities, the kind of music they have done and the general vibes I get when I listen to the songs.

Primo:

I see him sitting on his couch by the fire, immersed in his voluminous, rich vestments. He can listen to the heaviest doom metal tune without moving an inch of his body, fully immersed in understanding the lyrics, but 70s rock always brings back his old memories of when he used to throw small parties in his chamber whenever the Beatles or his favorite bands released a new LP.

The Beatles - Come together 

Black Sabbath - Iron Man

Mayhem - Freezing moon

The Rolling Stones - Start me up

Candlemass - Bewitched

Bathory - A fine day to die 

Mercyful fate - Evil

The animals - House of the rising sun

Slayer - Seasons in the Abyss

Diamond Head - Am I Evil?

Secondo:

He has two sides: the old-school metalhead and the devoted enthusiast of good old symphonic music. He prepares himself a cigar and settles at his desk, embracing the darkness like the nocturnal creature he is, to work on papers or perhaps write some lyrics inspired by his favorite arias. In his playlist, you can always find something classy followed by something extremely heavy.

Led Zeppelin - Kashmir

Slayer - South of Heaven

Venom - Don’t burn the witch

Giuseppe Verdi - Dies Irae/Tuba Mirum

Deep Purple - Perfect Strangers

King Diamond - The family ghost

The Doors - Riders on the storm

Guns and Roses - Coma

Bobby Vinton - Blue velvet 

Antonio Vivaldi - Four Seasons

Terzo:

Ah, Terzo. Whether he's completing his nighttime skincare routine, getting dressed for a mass, preparing for a date, or simply relaxing in his chambers with a good wine, he always has a record playing in the background. He's not a headbanger, but he likes to keep the tempo with his hands. He taps his fingers on his thigh to match the drum tempo of most rhythmic songs or moves his hands softly to the sound of the mellower ones, like when he listens to "Barcelona," adjusting his hand movements based on the virtuosity of the voices.

Candlemass - Well of Souls

The struts - Kiss this

Metallica - Until it sleeps

Metallica - For whom the bell tolls

Kreator - People of the lie

Freddie Mercury feat Montserrat Caballe - Barcelona

David Bowie - Starman

Pentagram - Sign of the wolf

Sepoltura - Dead embryonic cells

Mercyful fate - Witches dance 

Copia:

I can totally picture Copia putting on something groovy like "Stuck In The Middle With You" while attempting to cook something, swaying his hips to the rhythm and inevitably either burning whatever is in the pan or creating a mess on the counter by dropping bottles and food.

Alice Cooper - Poison

Iron Maiden - Run to the hills

Steppenwolf - Born to be wild

Dead or Alive - You spin me round 

Black Sabbath - Paranoid

Judas Priest - Painkiller

The Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the devil

Stealers wheel - Stuck in the middle with you 

The Darkness - Love is only a feeling

Bon Jovi - You give love a bad name

Nihil:

An old-school rocker. He would pick you up in his car with Led Zeppelin playing at full volume, take you to a bar where he puts on your favorite song in the jukebox, and by the time you come back from the toilet, he's kissing some random girl right at the bar counter. He would later apologize, claiming he was just drunk and thought that was you… a red flag you'll ignore.

The Doors - Touch me

Led Zeppelin - Whole lotta love

Elton John - Tiny dancer

Ozzy Osburne - Crazy train

Deep Purple - Child in time 

Deep Purple - Hush

Jefferson airplane - White rabbit

Elvis Presley - Suspicious minds

The Rolling Stones -  Paint it black

The Beatles - Helter Skelter

[zombiekillerbiceps]

The First, Good Birthday

Note: this was so sweet and romantic to write. /I am ignoring resi6 and it's existence it's supposed to be fluff just work with me here/

Content: 2.3k, 18+, SFW, slight angst, fluff, mentions of drugs (a joint) and alcohol, between re2 and 4, Leon x Reader, gn reader, no y/n.

Reader gives Leon his best birthday yet.

"That is... The saddest fucking story anyone's ever told me," you say, genuinely shocked.

"No, no, it was great cause the socks were really well made," Leon insisted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, Jesus, I wouldn't celebrate my birthday either."

Leon snorted his amusement, raising his eyebrows as if to say I told you so.

What he told you was that he never really got to celebrate his birthday in his foster home. It was usually half-forgotten and rushed, gifted things likely found around the house or picked up at the gas station with the price tag still on it. The best birthday he ever had as a child was his 13th birthday. His foster parents had just gotten a huge donation, which meant he got fun necessities like... An electric tooth brush and good, wool socks.

"What about your best birthday as an adult?" You ask, hoping the story will lighten the mood. You expect some drunken, coming-of-age quest that you can make fun of him for later.

"My 18th birthday," he says. "I aged out of foster care. It was my first day in my own apartment and I went out and got a steak dinner."

"With friends?" You ask.

He doesn't answer.

"Babe, with friends, right?"

Still no answer.

"You understand we have to throw you the best birthday anyone's ever been thrown, right?"

-

When his birthday rolled around, you really did go all out, right from the minute you woke up. You made pancakes using the dinosaur-cookie cutters you were gifted as a gag one year. They were metal, and you definitely burned yourself a few times trying to flip the flap jacks. But, the result was vaguely dinosaur shaped pancakes that were too thick to cook through fully. So, that was... good.

When Leon finally padded out to the kitchen, he found you running your hand under cold water, butter burning in the pan, and a Jurassic Park-level dinosaur pancake massacre as the pancakes lost their shape and broke apart under their own weight.

He rushed over to turn off the stovetop. He pulled the spitting, smoking butter pan off the element and moved towards the sink where you were leaning, quickly avoided disaster, and put the pan on a different element. He was then at your side assessing the burn.

"I'm fine, really, I get worse burns at work," you tell him.

"What were you even trying to do?"

"I don't know, make you a cute breakfast."

His eyes drift over to the graveyard of dismembered dinosaurs.

"Nothing says cute like uh. Shapes."

"They were triceratops," you inform him as matter-of-factly as possible. "And a T-Rex."

He laughs, a surprised bark of laughter that makes the burned hands and messy counters worth it. His eyes squint up and he throws his head back as he laughs. His hair falls out of his face and catches the early afternoon light, illuminating him like a halo, and for a moment you just appreciate how beautiful he is.

"Why don't we just go out for breakfast?" He offers.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you agree.

The two of you wind up at your favourite local coffee shop. It was a bit expensive, but their lattes truly were something special. Plus, their breakfast sandwiches were better than the under-cooked flour waiting for you at home. You take the morning slowly, sipping coffee on a warm patio, watching the world go by.

"Alright, what time is it?" You ask, stretching your arms above your head. Leon checks his phone.

"Noon," he tells you. "Have something else planned?"

"Not until later," you say. "I thought we could hit that independent book store down the street."

"When you said this was going to be my best birthday ever, I really expected more fanfare," he teased you.

"Can it, or I'm getting the socks."

He laughed with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you walked. It was a beautiful day out. Bright sun, clear skies, and a cool enough breeze to fend off the heat. Leon smiled easily, his body relaxed for once. Even if it wasn't a big, flashy birthday, you thought that giving him an afternoon where he could just relax with you was good enough.

The bookstore was inside an old house. Doors were taken off hinges so former kitchens and bedrooms could be turned into the Paranormal Mystery and Erotic Thriller sections. Bookcases overflowed with worn paperbacks, books cluttered half-open across tables, and novels spiraled up the staircase until there was hardly enough room to go up and down. A kindly old woman manned the check out counter with her bespeckled face buried in an Agatha Christie mystery. Her wife, a sturdier old woman rearranged a stack of scientific non-fiction. A big golden lab with a white muzzle laid on the porch and happily thumped his tail in greeting, licking Leon's hand as he passed. A fluffy, one-eyed cat stretched out across an open copy of Moby Dick like she was reading it.

You and Leon took your time picking through books, occasionally picking one up and dramatically reading the back or a choice passage to one another. You got to learn a lot about him. He liked poetry books, but pretended he didn't. He hated thrillers. He was interested in architecture, hovering around their section for longer than you anticipated, but you didn't mind. Least surprising was his love of classics.

In the end, you two left the store with only a few books. One by Trevor and Chamberlain titled Eastern European Castles and their Effect on the New American Rich, as well as a copy of Don Quixote, and an annotated pocket poetry book from the 1800's that you pretended not to see. You wouldn't judge him for it, but if he wanted to keep his love of poetry secret, you'd let him.

"This was a really nice birthday," Leon said, kissing your temple as the two of you left the bookstore feeling undeniably a little dusty.

"Was? It's not over yet!"

You insisted on getting some food that you could eat while walking on your way home. Dinner wouldn't be until late. You settled on vegetable kebabs and fresh squeezed lemonade.

"Go shower," you told him almost as soon as you got home.

"Are you planning on joining me?" He asked, hands playfully pulling at your hips. You blushed, giggling while you swatted him away.

"I've got a few more things to do. Hurry up, we don't want to be late."

You cleaned up the kitchen and sent off a few, final texts verifying everyone would be there. You prepped up a few things for dinner, and then since there was still time, you hopped in the shower with Leon for just a few minutes. Not long enough to do anything fun, but you cherished the quiet intimacy of washing his back and shoulders for him. Kissing the freshly clean skin when you were done.

The next hour or so happened in a blur of responding to texts and getting ready and playfully teasing Leon about the upcoming night he knew nothing about. Finally, wearing accidentally matching black button ups, you and Leon left the house. He insisted on taking the motor cycle. And he insisted on taking the scenic route, meaning he showed up late to his own birthday party.

The venue was a semi-upscale whisky bar. It struck a balance between modernism and industrialism, giving it a cool (but kind of snotty) vibe. You led him in by the hand. When the door swung open, you were greeted by a live jazz band and, almost immediately, a cheering chorus of voices.

Most of Leon's coworkers leaned over at the bar, raising their glasses in greeting of him. Leon left you to greet them, grinning and laughing with them immediately. One of them raised a glass to you, and you gave a lazy two finger salute back.

"Hey! Kennedy!" Emerging from the bathroom was an absolute behemoth of a man, Chris Redfield.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Leon cried. The two hugged tightly, patting each other on the back the way men did. Not too many men could make Leon look small, but Chris sure did.

A feminine hand gently touched Leon's back, and you watched him light up for the third time that night as he recognized Claire. Leon wrapped her up in a hug that lifted her off the ground. You smiled to yourself, watching as the three of them immediately get swept up in reminiscing. Leon's coworkers surrounded them, loudly talking and joking amongst themselves.

It was about an hour before another woman joined Leon at the bar, earning a surprised cry from Leon and his coworkers.

"Hunnigan!? Who got you to leave the house?!" One of them asked. Hunnigan shrugged, then tilted her head over to where you sat, half watching the party and half listening to the band. Leon beamed at you from across the room and you instantly got butterflies.

You got a text about twenty minutes later.

Meet us outside.

You approached the crowd to take Leon by the hand. He immediately turned and kissed you so passionately it took your breath away. You stepped away from him to a wave of oooooohs. In front of all his friends? Embarassing. And flattering.

"One more present," you tell him. He looks at you like he doesn't believe you.

"What more could you possibly give me?"

"Well, Hunnigan is the one that pulled this one together. You owe her big time. C'mon." You led him outside by the hand.

The cool night air was a welcome reprieve. You didn't realize how warm the bar was until you stepped into the night. Waiting outside was a nameless suit in front of a rich black car. He held a letter.

You gestured for Leon to take it. He did, cautiously, his eyes quickly serious and observant. You didn't miss how his hand hovered over his empty hip. You wondered if he was even aware of doing it. When he took the letter, the suit got back into the car and they drove off.

Leon read the letter. Then again. Then again. Tears started to well in his eyes and your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, I thought it would be a nice-" he cut you off with a crushing hug. He buried his face into your shoulder and held you until your hands went numb.

"I don't know how you pulled this off," he said. "But, thank you."

You kissed him on the cheek and separated yourself from him.

"Why don't I go get Claire?" You offered. He smiled at you, and you took that as good enough.

You went back inside to get Claire. Leon showed her the letter, and her eyes widened, looking between it and Leon in disbelief.

"A letter from Sherry?" She asked. Leon nodded, and you headed back inside to let the two have a private moment.

You took the opportunity to get to know Leon's friends. Hunnigan complained about his attitude, his friends told embarrassing stories about him, and Chris alternated between praising Leon and solidifying some sibling-like rivalry between them.

Leon and Claire eventually came back in smelling like good weed. You assumed Claire brought a joint with her, as she was known to do at parties. All of you drank and chatted and joked. Laughter came often and in great, thunderous roars. At one point Leon dragged you onto the dancefloor, and when he got tired, Claire happily took his place.

-

Chris received a text from Jill and had to excuse himself to "tend to the missus." His leaving signaled the beginning of the end, and slowly the party thinned out until it was just you and Leon again. You two decided to walk home, too intoxicated to drive.

You two chatted the whole way home, gossiping about this person and that event. Leon was practically bursting with energy. His stomach growled and you had to soothe him with promises of one last present.

"Hey," he stopped in front of the door of your shared home. He took your face in his hands, gratitude plain on his face. "Thank you for tonight. Especially Sherry's letter, I have no idea how you-"

"Again, Hunnigan. I think I owe her a life debt now."

"You." Leon insisted. "You had the idea. You made it happen. You made everything happen tonight, and I don't know how to thank you."

"It's a birthday party, you don't have to thank me."

He kissed you, slow and gentle. He held you close in his arms while he did. You felt how much he loved you then, maybe more than any other kiss he'd ever given you. Eventually he pulled away, the affection in the softness of his gaze making him look like a younger, more hopeful man.

"One more present," you insisted.

You lead him inside the house and set him up in front of the TV while you cooked dinner. It went off without any of the prior disasters, luckily. Then you set up the table with the fanciest tableware you had. When you called Leon in, he could only chuckle in disbelief.

"One fancy steak dinner for one Monsieur Kennedy," you announced with quiet bravado, pouring a glass of Malbec.

He sat down at one end. You sat at the other. The two of you were starving and the meal went down pretty quickly, but not unsavoured. When you were done, Leon took your hand in his.

"A nice steak dinner shared with the love of your life," you said, gesturing with your free hand. The dying candle light warmed Leon's complexion, capturing his blonde hair in an orange glow. The flame danced in his blue eyes. He looked at you with nothing but love and appreciation. He looked beautiful. "Happy 25th birthday, my love."

-

[widowwaddles]

Operation 90 Day (Undercover) Fiance - Part 3

Summary:  What started as a month-long trip for work, ended with your heart stolen by a certain red-head. But are things really as they seem?  

Taglist: @natsxwife​, @aphrcdtes​

Warnings: Jealous/Possessive Natasha

Word count: ~2.8k

Masterlist

Part 2

--

The blaring sound of the fire alarm outside of your bedroom wakes you from your peaceful slumber. Groggily, you pull the covers over your head not yet ready to fully wake up and you were hoping to provide a temporary safe haven from the annoying beep and smell that began to invade your senses. You hear a crash coming from outside of the room, followed by barking. Throwing the covers off of your body, you run out. 

 “What is going on in here?” 

 Natasha freezes, a pillow in hand from attempting to fan the smoke away from the fire alarm. Theo is standing on his paws by Natasha’s feet, his tail wagging happily most likely believing he’s a part of whatever game Natasha was playing. He barks the moment he noticed, before returning his attention back to the pillow in Natasha’s possession. 

 “Are you trying to burn down my kitchen!” you say before rushing to the stove, that Natasha neglected to turn off. “Nat, baby, I thought you said you were taking cooking classes before you came here. What have they been teaching you” you try to end with a joke when you saw the guilt on her face. 

 “Sorry…I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. I know you were exhausted last night” she says shyly, eyes looking everywhere but at you. You felt your body stiffen instinctively at the mention of last night, but you tried to hide it. 

 “Awww, you’re so sweet” you walk towards her, your arms wrapping around her waist loosely. Her cheeks redden from your words. “But leave the cooking to me” kissing her lips quickly, you go back to the stove to try and decipher what it is she was attempting to make. There is a skillet with three half-cooked pancakes. The bottom is completely black, causing you to deduce that she did not use any butter or oil before pouring the batter in. You smile at her attempt, before looking back at her, you could see she really tried her best. She hasn’t moved from where you left her, and she’s staring at you with a pout.  

 “Come here my poor baby” opening your arms, you beckon her towards you. 

 She wastes no time, practically throwing her body into yours. She hides her face in your neck as you rock back and forth, just enjoying the warmth of being in each other's arms. 

 “I know you weren’t trying to kill me, but by the looks of that pan you would have gotten pretty close if I didn’t come in when I did,” you say jokingly, but it seems to have been the wrong thing to say as her body freezes. 

 Pulling back, you look at her and she has a clouded look in her eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what triggered this reaction from her. It doesn’t even feel like she’s here with you anymore, and you’re not too sure if she’s even aware of where she is at this moment. Your body moves on autopilot. Grabbing both of her hands, you position them onto your cheeks. You gently squeeze the top of her hand, and wait for a sign that her body recognizes that this is her reality, and not wherever her mind currently has her trapped in. After a few minutes, you felt her finger twitch and that was all you needed to continue.

Slowly, you began to mouth the words of reassurance that Natasha always needed to hear during these moments. “I love you. I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m not going anywhere”. You repeat it until you feel both of her hands begin to twitch before her fingertips dig into your skin softly. Looking into her eyes again, you see her eyes falter before shutting closed entirely. You continue with the mantra you and Nataha have since memorized, this time moving her hands over your lips and kissing her hands after each sentence as you said it aloud. You don’t know how long you did this nor did you care, your voice gradually got louder, and you hoped it was overpowering the voices plaguing Natasha’s mind. It seems to have worked as the next time she opens her eyes, you recognize the green eyes you fell for - with the only thing clouding them were tears threatening to fall. She takes a shaky breath before leaning her head against yours.“Thank you” she whispers. You stay like this until she’s visibly calmer. 

 The moment of peace is interrupted by your grumbling stomach and she giggles as if she wasn’t just crying a moment ago. 

 “Okay, it’s definitely time to eat something. Since you already have the batter made, pancakes it is. And maybe we can make them together this time” you say sweetly, to which she replies with an eager nod.

 —

 After eating you decided that a mood booster was needed for the both of you. Honestly, you wanted a moment of peace to just forget about everything that has happened within the past 3 months. You desperately wanted to go back to the simpler times of when it was just you and Natasha. So you decided to take her on a date you’ve been excited about since learning she’s never done it before - ice skating. 

 “Don’t be afraid to hold on to me if you feel like you’ll fall” you say confidently, as you put on your skate. Tying the shoelace, you continue “It might take some time to get used to, but I’ll be here every step of the way”

 “Well aren’t you my knight in shining armor,” she says playfully. You offer your arm to her as you prepare to enter the rink. 

 “Don’t let go until you’re comfortable and not a moment sooner” flashing her a smile, you step into the rink first. 

 The moment your foot lands on the ice, you almost fall, and had it not been for Natasha’s steadying arm you’re sure your face would have been on the icy floor. 

 “Easy there, tiger” she smirks. “Are you falling for me again already?”

 Knowing what kind of reaction she wanted, you do the opposite. (Somehow) Moving your hands to her hips, you whisper in her ear “It’s hard not to, especially when I know you’re wearing my favorite matching red set dorogaya”. You know you’ve done it when her eyes darken, but you pull away before she could do anything else.

 “Now come on, I imagined this being a lot cuter” 

 “I’m coming I’m coming”

 And it did end up being cute, but for the exact opposite reasons than you had anticipated. Turns out Natasha was a lot better than you expected, and you quickly began to suspect she was lying when she told you she had never skated in her life. This would have been more than okay with you, had you not fallen at every time Natasha let you go. You didn’t let her laughs get to you when she asked if this was really the skill level you’ve been hyping her up for since your time in Russia. Or when she’d jokingly pretend to let you go just to see the fear in your eyes as you grabbed her body when you felt yourself slipping. No, you let that all go in an attempt to salvage what was left of what was supposed to be a cliche romantic outing. And as time went on, it definitely felt like it was getting there. After getting all of her laughs out, Natasha started to help you until you felt confident enough to let go of her hand. 

 However the final straw came when you - either out of overconfidence or stupidity - challenged Natasha to a race, which would have ended with a victory (Natasha was going easy on you, but that didn’t stop you from going all out) had that innocent stupid kid not gotten into your way. You collided into the border of the rink, and you had to hold onto the side as you limped off. You reassured Natasha that you were okay, and convinced her that she should go around a few more times coming off. As you sat down on the bench, you couldn’t help but admire how graceful she looks as she skated. You don’t know how much of what she told you of her past was true but she looked like a ballerina on the ice. The long strides as she stretched one leg back until she was gliding with only one skate, had looked like something you’d only seen in movies. She’s never looked more beautiful. 

 Your gawking was rudely interrupted by a presence sitting closely beside you on the bench. 

 “Y/n, right?” asks the voice besides.

 “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, have we met?” 

 “Jane, we uh, met at the bar awhile ago” the brunette replies awkwardly.

 You stiffen as you remember how the women in front of you. But more specifically, the events leading up to your meeting. You had just found out about Natasha’s identity and you weren’t in the best mental state so tried to cope with alcohol. You had blocked Natasha’s contact immediately after finding, no longer wanting anything to do with her. You began going to the same bar for weeks in an attempt to find someone to distract you from your inner turmoil and Jane ended up being the lucky lady you drunkenly set your eyes on for the night. You were determined to move on from Natasha no matter what it took. 

 “Oh yeah, Jane. How’ve you been?” you ask nervously

 “Good. Though you’d know that if you returned any of my calls” she says, sliding closer to you wanting your attention solely on her. “I really enjoyed our time together”

 “I’ve been pretty b-busy” internally cursing yourself for stuttering. You inch away from her.

 “With what?” getting closer once again.

 “I -”

 “Hey babe, are you ready to go?” Natasha suddenly appears, and you don’t know whether you should be relieved or stressed. Arching an eyebrow questioningly at the woman beside you, “Who’s this”?

 “This is just my friend-”

 “Jane” she replies, interrupting you. She holds her hand out towards Natasha, who only stares at it with disgust.

 “Cool. I’m ready to go now, we need to get your ankle looked at” Natasha grabs your hand and pulls you up until you are by her side.  

 “Wait, Y/n. Can we meet up again?” Jane boldly asks. 

 “Sorry, we’re going to be really busy” Natasha replies before you could open your mouth. She wraps an arm around your waist possessively. . 

 “I was talking to Y/n” Jane says stubbornly, not at all reading the room.

 “And like I said we’re busy” Natasha’s grip getting tighter on your waist. 

 “Who are you to speak for them?” Raising her voice in frustration.

 Only now does Natasha extend her hand towards Jane, to show off the engagement ring on her finger. She smiles with a faux sweetness, with her lips turning even more when she sees Jane's gaze falter in recognition. 

 “Y/n’s future wife” Natasha gloats, wanting to rub her title in the other woman’s face even more. 

 “Congratulations” Jane says in shock, returning her gaze back to you. “You never told me you were engaged , when did this happen?” 

 And in this moment you wish you were dead, as Natasha turns her gaze back to you. The smile remained on her lips, but her eyes held a different story. 

 “It’s been about a month, right baby?” Digging her fingertips in your hip. Your heart races.

 “Y-yes it has been” taking your cue to finally speak. “And I can’t wait to marry the love of my life” you know that you’re laying it on thick now, but your life is hanging in the balance. You could see the gears turning in Natasha’s head the longer this interaction has gone on. 

 “Well, congratulations again. I’m happy for you two” it didn’t take a mind reader to know she was obviously lying. “I have to go now, maybe I’ll see you around again”

 “Yeah maybe” you reply back as she walks away awkwardly. This proves to be a mistake because the moment she turns her back, Natasha rips herself away from you. 

 “Who is she?” Her voice is sharp.

 “A friend” 

 “Sure…a friend” she says in disbelief. 

 “We’re going now” she demands, leaving no room for any argument. After taking her skates off, she stalked off to the exit not caring if you were left behind. You attempted to catch up, but the minute you got close you felt a dark aura when you approached her. 

 “Nat” you try to call out to her but she continues to ignore you. When you reach the car you remember the throbbing in your ankle. 

 “Give me the key. I can drive us back” she says lowly while holding out her hand. After handing her the keys, you limp to the passenger seat and hiss with each step. You heard the car door open and when you looked up, you saw Natasha holding it open wide for you. When you got closer, she held your hand so you could steady yourself when you sat in the seat. Once you were settled in she returned to the driver's side and began the drive home. 

 The silence puts you on edge. You desperately wanted to say something but you didn’t know how to address what just happened. 

 “You’ve told me about all of your friends and she isn’t one of them. So tell me the truth” 

 “I am. If you want to be technical she would be considered less than that” you say defensively.

 “When did you meet her? She seemed surprised to learn that you’re engaged”

 “Two months ago” you say quietly, hoping she didn’t hear you. 

 Stopping the car abruptly, Natasha glares at you before pulling off to the side of the road. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes in an attempt to quell her growing anger. 

 “I know we weren’t in a good place during that time and I’m not interested in getting a play-by-play of everything you did then but don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. I just want you to be honest with me, I know she wasn’t just a friend” her gloomy expression fills you with guilt. You never wanted Natasha to find out about your drunken escapades during the lowest points of your relationship. 

 Grabbing her hand, you look into her green eyes that were filled with doubt. “I promise you that nothing happened with her. I couldn’t replace you even if I tried” and boy did you try. “I couldn’t get you out of my head, every woman I looked at only reminded me of you. That time apart reaffirmed that only you could own my heart” 

 “I believe you” she says shakily before kissing your cheek. “And I know we never talked about it but I was a wreck when you came back home and it only got worse when you suddenly stopped responding to my texts and calls”. From Natasha’s perspective suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth. You could only imagine the panic on her face after the first 48 hours of radio silence. 

 “I thought that I had lost you…I don’t think I could ever go through that again. I wouldn’t survive if I lost you or you left” her eyes steeled as she spoke with seriousness. “I love you with every part of me and I don’t want to go back to my life before you came” she squeezes your hand as she closes her eyes. Bringing your hand to her lips, she kisses them gently, she whispers into them softly “I refuse to”. 

 Looking at this woman now, you could feel her sincerity. You could feel her love for you the moment she first confessed it in Russia. You could feel her need to have you in her life by her constant need to touch you - as if you’re an essential part of her life. And no matter how hard you want to fight it, you felt the same way about her. You had long accepted that Natasha would probably be your first and last love. The path to acceptance was painful and filled with drunken breakdowns after failed attempts of trying to move on. Hell, the one kiss you shared with Jane left you feeling crying in your bathroom for hours as you threw up everything in your stomach. Natasha was it for you, and in this moment now you wanted to believe that she felt the same way too. That she went through the same dilemma of falling for the right person but at the wrong time. You pushed down the doubt that questioned how much of it she had genuinely meant and how much is just lip service. 

 You moved your body into hers and she automatically wrapped her arms around you. Breathing in the scent from her shirt, you closed your eyes, wanting to stay in this moment forever. No, you were satisfied living in your own delusion if it meant keeping her close for just a moment longer. 

[softstraykidshours]

stray kids fic-mas: day 11

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: hyunjin invites you to christmas dinner with the boys, and it's a little chaotic.

length: 1.7k

warnings: slight food mention, christmas mention

ficmas 2022 masterlist

"hey, everybody!" you say cheerfully as you and hyunjin come through the door, slipping off your snow covered coats and boots. 

“hey, guys!” chan greets you both with a big hug before taking your coats and adding them to the pile haphazardly thrown over a chair. 

“sorry we’re late, i had to have jinnie swing back by my place on the way here, i completely forgot something."

“oh no, you’re totally fine! there’s still at least thirty minutes until minho’s done with the dinner, so you’re basically still early. seungmin’s making drinks in the kitchen, and felix is setting up the switch so feel free to do whatever," chan turns to join the rest of the guys in the living room only to be tackled over the back of the couch by changbin. you and hyunjin share a look and immediately head in the opposite direction towards the kitchen.

“hey, minho! seungmin!” you yell. minho raises a hand in greeting without turning around, focused intently on whatever he’s cooking at the stove. seungmin dries his hands on a towel before crossing the room and pulling you in for a hug.

“i’m so glad you made it! when hyunjin said you might not be able to, i may or may not have considered cancelling myself. there’s no way i was going to be able to handle all this testosterone in such a small space without some sort of backup.”

“oh don’t worry, i’m here and ready to help harass whoever needs it.” hyunjin shoots you a pouty look and you wrap your arms around his waist. “not you of course, loves, i would never dream of harassing you,” you throw seungmin a wink, and you both let out a laugh while hyunjin exaggerates his fake pout. you give him a quick kiss on the shoulder before heading across the kitchen to lean on the counter next to minho.

he has his sleeves rolled up and an apron on while he works, stirring and flipping things in no less than three pans. “whatever you’re making, it smells absolutely delicious.”

“you can count on that,” he states, a confident smirk on his face. 

“oh and min, by the way, i have something for you. well, it’s not exactly for you,” you clarify when he raises his eyebrows in question. “it’s for the cats. i may have found the cutest little pet antlers and just had to get them all matching ones.”

“wait, really?” minho immediately sets down his spatula and turns towards you, excitement alight in his eyes. “i want to see!” you grab the bag you set on the counter and pull out the little antlers, smiling when you see how ecstatic he is. “these are adorable! they're going to look so cute! thank you!” he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a quick hug before turning back to the stove to continue stirring the food.

“of course! the second i saw them i knew i couldn’t just pass them up. i do, however, fully expect pictures of all my nieces looking like festive little reindeer though.”

“you got it. i wouldn’t dream of denying you their little sweet faces.”

you turn towards seungmin when you hear him call your name from the other side of the kitchen. “do you want a drink? i’m making holiday mocktails and cocktails.”

“oooh, yes please! that sounds delicious, i’ll take anything with cranberry in it.”

“okay! i can bring it out to the living room when i’m done if you want to go hang out with the rest of the guys,” it’s just then that you truly realize no one else is in the kitchen besides seungmin and minho. 

you look around for hyunjin and eventually find him leaning on a wall in the living room. he's laughing while watching jisung count how many marshmallows from his hot cocoa jeongin can fit in his mouth at the same time. “hey jinnie, is anyone going to help minho or...is he just going to make all the food for all of us?”

“i mean you can try and help if you want, but we all know better than to get in the way of minho and his cooking. the only one besides you who has even really set foot in that kitchen today is felix, and that’s just because he was making brownies.”

“felix made his brownies?! oh heck yeah! but wait, you’re telling me minho doing all of the cooking himself?" hyunjin nods in confirmation, and you look back over your shoulder at minho working. "and not only that, but he's doing it in his dorm, which means he also has to do all the cleaning. you all are just mean.”

hyunjin chuckles at your indignation before wrapping his arms around you to pull you to his side. “don’t worry we’ll help him clean up. well, at least some of us will,” he says, shooting a pointed look to where changbin and chan are still wrestling and to where jeongin is starting to choke on his tenth marshmallow. “plus, it's definitely for the best we did it here instead of my dorm. with those idiots around, i think we have a blender and maybe one good pan in our entire place. we don't even have four full sets of silverware. so, unless you want to be eating ramen with your hands as your christmas dinner, this is the best option for everyone.”

"hold up, rewind. did you just say you don't have enough silverware for all of you?”

hyunjin turns to meet your eyes, and you have to stifle a laugh at the haunted expression on his face. "don't even get me started. why do you think we never have dinner at my place?"

you can't help the choked giggle that leaves you over how horrified he is about the whole situation.

"hey! who's playing?" felix hollers from the living room.

"we are!" you shout back as the horrified expression on hyunjin's face somehow gets more dramatic. 

"i'm not sure who this 'we' is you're referring to, but i know for a fact that my sweet, adorable, loving partner who knows everything about me isn't suggesting that i want to play super smash bros." 

"oh come on, drama queen," you manage to say between laughs, grabbing his arm to drag him to the living room. "i didn't mean that you were actually going to play, just that you're going to come hang out and watch me absolutely destroy felix." 

"oh those are some fighting words right there, you're on!" felix shoots back, tossing you a remote before starting the game. 

you do in fact beat felix within an inch of his life in almost every round, only losing once to jisung. felix shouts and protests the entire time, changbin and jisung piping in every now and again until the living room is filled only with the loud, loving sounds of trash talk. 

"hey, when’s the food going to be ready?" changbin asks for the tenth time after you finish your most recent round. 

“it’ll be ready when i’m done!” minho hollers back for the tenth time from the kitchen.

“but i’m hungry!” changbin whines, dramatically flopping backwards onto the couch.

“you’re always hungry. don’t you have a raw chicken breast to gnaw on or something while you wait?” seungmin taunts before quickly dodging the pillow changbin throws at him.

“everybody just chill, dinner will be ready soon," chan enters the room and intervenes at the perfect time, hands on his hips while he stands in the doorway, full dad mode activated. "how about you come help me set up the tables for dinner.”

"okay!" you quickly agree, standing up from the couch, but halting when you feel hyunjin's hand on your arm.

“loves, is it okay if i go take some pictures of the snow falling out the window. i want to use them as references for some winter paintings i’ve been thinking about,” hyunjn whispers quietly to you, wanting to help, but also wanting to snap some photos before the weather changes. 

“of course,” you reply, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “i’ll make jisung help me.”

“wait, why me?” he protests. “you should make someone else do it. i don’t even know how to set up a table, so if you want it to be good, you definitely don’t want me helping.”

you roll your eyes as his poor attempt to avoid work and grab his arm to drag him off the couch.

“oh come on, you’ll do just fine. seungmin! you want to help too?” you call out over your shoulder.

“sure,” he jumps up from his chair and starts following you, but pauses when jeongin comes down the hallway from his room and yells at him.

“seungmin! come help me take pictures of my christmas ootd! i don’t trust any of these fools to get the right angle.”

“oh! sorry, can’t help, duty calls,” seungmin immediately changes gears and starts moving around the room, looking for the best lighting to take pictures in, occasionally interrupting changbin and felix’s game to make them move, so they aren’t in the shot. 

once the tables are set up, you all return to the living room to watch the end of the super smash bros round. everyone ends up cramming onto the same couch, most of them squished together on the seat, while you and hyunjin opt for sitting on the top. jeongin decides the best place to lay is across everyone’s lap, causing a whole slew of jokes from jisung and protests from changbin and felix. the whole situation is completely ridiculous, and you have to wipe tears from your eyes as you laugh harder than you have in a long time.

“dinner’s ready!” minho shouts from the kitchen a few minutes later as he places the last dish on the table. everyone immediately shoots ups from the couch and rushes into the kitchen, shouting at each other as they scramble to get a seat.

the fold up tables you pushed together to make enough space for everyone just barely fit in the room, but it’s still perfect. hyunjin places a soft kiss to your temple, before scooting in next to you and squeezing your hand. a smile crosses your face when you look around at the rowdy group of friends all crammed together and realize this just might be the best christmas ever.

[migotte]

If you're currently struggling with an ED and you're looking for a tasty, low calorie, quick and easy meal that will fill you up, I'm here for you <3

My mom cooked way too much rice for yesterday's lunch and there was a bunch of it left in the fridge, so I wanted to cook something with it in order not to waste it. Let me present you my low calorie curry recipe. It's suitable for everyone, no matter if you're vegeterian or vegan, because: -It has a bit of vegetables in it (and veggies are both delicious and great for you) -Meat is totally optional, you don't have to use it if you don't want to -You don't need any milk or coconut cream to prepare it, we will be using water instead

ingredients:

water(I used about 200ml I think but you can use more/less)

70g of cooked rice - 84kcal

10g of white onion - 10kcal

20g of peeled carrot - 7kcal

1 small turkey sausage(optional) - came out to 46kcal for me

1tsp of flour - 28kcal for me

curry powder(as much as you like, depends on how spicy you want it to be)

a dash of garlic powder(optional)

salt and pepper to taste

Total: 168kcal

Heat up a pan (don't pour any oil on it) and throw in your meat and your vegetables and try for only about 1 or 2 minutes. Then add water and seasonings and stir everything until fully combined. Cook for a few minutes until the vegetables get more soft. In order to thick up the curry, mix your flour with just a little bit of water (the mixture shouldn't be too runny or too doughy) and pour it in. Cook for a few more minutes and you're done! You can serve it with rice or just eat it on it's own!!

(Just a reminder that you DO deserve to eat, you NEED to eat to survive and function properly, you are beautiful just the way you are and you don't need to change anything about you and your body <3 I know how dangerous eating disorders are and how they can ruin your body. I know how hard recovery can be, so please don't force yourself and take it one step at a time. Eating disorders are NOTHING to brag about and I'm not romantizing them in any way. I'm just posting simple recipes while learning how to cook. Please stay safe <333)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Azul Week Day 6 - Four Seasons

Summary: Azula takes Sokka to see a firefly boom but the fireflies don't want to appear.

Sunrise is her favorite time. The quiet and lonely golden hour that people seem to miss because they can’t be bothered to rise early enough. Perhaps it makes her selfish, but she doesn’t like to share this hour with anyone. Not even with Sokka. She likes to take it with a cup of daisy-dandelion tea and a thin blanket draped around her shoulders for the sake of having a blanket around her shoulders. 

Sunset, the second golden hour, is her second favorite time. It isn’t as quiet; in fact it is rather noisy. The crickets are beginning to awaken and the people are well awake and making their own racket. 

The fireflies also begin to awaken, cluster by cluster until they are everywhere blinking in the tall grasses and upon the trees. 

Usually by now, the world around smells like smoked meats and burning the burning leaves of campfires. This is the time that she wants to share with Sokka. He enjoys meat anyhow, most certainly more than he would enjoy her shaking him awake early in the morning. Sometimes she does that anyways when she feels sad for no reason. Sometimes she does it accidentally when she wants someone to hold or nuzzle her face against. He gets grumpy but he holds her anyhow. 

“We’re almost there.” Azula remarks. 

“Exactly where are we going?” Sokka pushes a fern leaf aside. 

“There’s a big hill. We’re going on top of that.”

Sokka furrows his brows. “Why are we doing that again?” 

“Because I want to show you something.” 

“Will the cicadas stop by the time we get there? Those things are driving me crazy. We don’t have those back at home.”

“You complain about the cicadas every year.” Azula rolls her eyes.

“Is it just me or do they get louder every year?”

“I think that it’s just you.” 

“I think that you Fire Nationals are just used to it.” He grumbles. 

“We’re here.” Azula declares. 

Sokka’s shoulders slump. “It’s just a big grassy hill!” 

“For now.” Azula replies. 

“For now!?” Sokka throws his hands up. “What does that even mean?” 

Azula offers him a smug and cheerful smile. “You’ll see.” She unfurls the picnic blanket and lays it out across the grass. “I figured that since I made you walk all of this way, that’s I’d make your favorite…”

“Peppered komodo chicken with a touch of garlic and a side of…”

“Smoked seal jerky.” Azula fills in. “Yes.” She withdraws a pan, a cooking fork, and a small iron grate to rest the meat upon. She gathers herself a nice tent of firewood and lights it up.

.oOo.

The last of the sizzles and pops die away as the sun fully falls. Azula does not relight it and Sokka shudders, it is quite darker than he had imagined. But Azula seems entirely unbothered which he might have found reassuring if Azula wasn’t unbothered by most things. 

She passes his meal to him. “Enjoy.” 

He will certainly try but the sounds emitting from the shadows–the ones that Azula insists are just lemurs and screech hog-monkeys don’t make it easy. He watches Azula, ever unphased, lay herself belly-down across the picnic blanket. She rests her chin in her palms and gazes down the hill. 

“It’s firefly mating season.” She remarks at last. 

Sokka swallows his mouthful. “Good to know, I guess.” 

Azula rolls her eyes and sighs. “Every few years there’s a firefly boom.” She elaborates. “It kind of reminds me of the polar lights. Less colorful, more uniformed but it’s like looking at stars but they’re in the grass.” She gestures down the hill where the first flashes are finally beginning. 

“I’ve seen Water Tribe winters.” She continues. “So I thought that I would show you what a Fire Nation summer is like when it is at its finest…” There is something in her voice, in the way that she trails off. It makes Sokka’s stomach sink. He is being unenthusiastic and he thinks that it is cracking her confidence in this thing that she had been so excited to show him. 

He wants to be enthusiastic but he has seen fireflies before so many times. He can’t say that this is any different from what he is used to seeing. A few drifting clouds of fireflies. It is pretty for certain but he isn’t sure if it is worth a long trek through the jungle. But Azula’s smiles are worth it. 

She is not smiling right now. Rather the opposite. “There are usually more than this…” She bites her lower lip. 

Sokka’s heart sinks further. He puts a hand on her back. “It’s alright, Azula. It’s still nice.” It is quality time with her and a meal that she had taken the care to cook for him. It has been prepared and is being eaten with breathtaking scenery, however ordinary it is. “It doesn’t have to be…”

“But I wanted to show you something special.” She mumbles. 

“This is special.” He insists. 

“But you’ve seen this before.”

“I’ve seen something similar but I’ve never seen these fireflies and they never dance around in the same way.”

Azula shrugs. 

“How many times did I take you to see the polar light?”

“A lot, Sokka.” She replies. 

“And did you enjoy them any less the tenth time?” He quirks a brow.

She purses her lips. “N-no.”

“Well then.” Sokka grins. And her smile starts to return.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t sure what had woke her up but she is pleased that it has. She nudges Sokka. Once then twice. “Sokka.” She whispers. He rolls over and gives a sleepy grunt. “Sokka!” She hisses again with a harder nudge.

“Wha-uh-t!?” He grumble-whines. “Go to sleep, woman!” 

This time she gives him a very solid thumb on the back. He jerks awake. “Geez!” 

Azula laughs. 

“What!? Is someone dying?” 

Azula shakes her head. “Look.” She points at the roof of their tent. It is all beaded with firefly bulbs that rest there like glowing yellow raindrops. Now and then the insects crawl down the fabric leaving a glowing trail just as rain leaves a trail of wetness. 

“I-it’s completely covered.” Sokka sputters. 

Azula nods rather eagerly. She takes his hand. “Come on Sokka, the hill is probably full of them!”

The hills, the canopy, the tree bark. Everything. Clouds of fireflies are suspended over the pond and make themselves cozy in the leaves of cattails. 

Sokka blinks. “They’re everywhere.” 

Azula nods. 

“I’ve never seen so many!” 

She nods again and takes his hand. “Come on, Sokka.” 

“Where are we going?” He asks. She knows that he will be able to deduce the answer soon enough.

.oOo.

He and Azula wander through the tall grass. It tickles his waist as he wades his way through. Although it is significantly higher on Azula–perhaps reaching her belly button or a little above–she seems to sift through the grass with ease. 

Sometimes it is nice to just walk hand in hand with her, letting her lead him along. Tonight she guides him through a field of stars. Each blade of grass seems to be tipped with a firefly bulb or two. And each strand that they part seems to rouse a whole cloud of them into the sky. 

Azula extends her arms and cups her hands. When she parts them to let him peer inside he finds that she has come away with at least five or six fireflies. 

“This must have been fun for you when you were a kid.”

Azula shakes her head. “Father wouldn’t let us chase them. He didn’t want us to get our robes dirty. We got to look and that was nice enough. But I never had the chance to…” she reaches up and plucks another firefly from the sky. 

Never had the chance to be a kid. He can see as much on her face. And he realizes that, technically, this is a first time for her too. A childhood dream coming to life. 

“Who do you think can catch more?” Azula quirks a brow. 

“I can of course.” He declares. “I’m taller so I can reach more of them.” 

“But I’m faster.” Azula counters. And he can’t dispute that. She has reflexes on top of that and this easy, fluid way of maneuvering through the world around her. She does a half twirl to look back at him. There are fireflies in her locks and crawling on her billowing robes, over her outstretched arms. 

She doesn’t even have to lift an arm to catch the fireflies. 

He can’t see himself but he imagines that he is similarly dressed in fireflies. Any traces of sleepiness ebb right out of him. 

If he falls asleep now, he fears that he will never see something like this again. 

Azula holds her hand out and he takes it. 

Just as he had held her hand when he introduced her to the lights. 

He has shown her the winter and she has showed him the summer. 

He will show her the grand melting of a Water Tribe springtime and she will introduce him to a burning Fire Nation autumn. 

[sabakos]

🔥 something about food (you've mentioned that you cook a lot but you don't foodpost that much)

I do need to foodpost more. Especially recipes, which I almost never remember to write down after I come up with them. Maybe I'll make up for lost mileage here on the rest.

The problem is it's hard to "Post" post about food because 100% of food snobbery is bullshit. When I dunk on New York pizza and say New Jersey's is better there's no more substance to it than when I make fun of the way Manhattanites say "bodega," I'm just being neighborly. Few people who e.g. decry pre-jarred minced garlic can tell the difference, most people who snob just like to seem like they're in on something.

The truth is that most people aren't bad at cooking, and it isn't really something you can be "bad" at. There's no great secret to it except the knowledge that all of the barriers that people have to getting "good" at cooking are psychological, and the faith that these barriers will be easily overcome with repetition.

You just have to do it more, by making a habit of it, and slowly work your way out of your comfort zone. Yes, I won't sugarcoat it, if you do take way too big a risk and fuck up a big fancy dish that's above your skill level that took hours of work, yes it will suck and if you're like me you will then order pizza or chinese food when you can afford to so that you'll be crying eating something other than a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. Yes, these things do happen, but much less often than you think. The real skill you develop in cooking is learning how to not take on more than you personally can handle, everything else is vocabulary and muscle memory.

This is why the most important thing is to start out simple as you build a habit of cooking and reprogram your brain first to believe that it feeds itself by making things not by scavenging them. You need to pick something where you are less likely to stress out about whether you will fuck it up and not eat dinner. If you like eggs, fry a lot of eggs until you can do it easily. I ate a Gaston number of eggs as a teenager. They're hard to master, (which you don't need to do) but also hard to render inedible after the first few tries. If you don't like or can't eat eggs there are other foods like this that are good to start out with, and generally soups, stews and chilis are also easy and a good way to ingratiate yourself with your roommates. You don't need to make the mother sauces or push yourself to do anything else french in order to make the other people around you happy, in fact I've seen no evidence that it even helps.

As you cook more, learn to take the easy way out when you can, e.g. buy a rice cooker if you believe it will mean you cook rice more often, but otherwise don't. If that sounds unhelpful to you now, know that a lot of this is as much self-knowledge as general cooking knowledge - i.e. what sort of things are you going to be lazy about? As you get more practice, you can focus on how to structure recipes in your head that work with your worst impulses. For me, I can't put up with more than a few minutes of chopping vegetables on most days, so I've started throwing raw onions, garlic, and other aromatics in a blender whenever they're going to fully cook down anyway. Some people apparently find chopping vegetables relaxing, and others might not feel comfortable deviating this much from a recipe at first, so they might not do this. But it's not a life hack, it's a personal idiosyncrasy. My setup works for me, etc.

As far as materials, it's also mostly all marketing bullshit. Don't go to reddit buyitforlife for product recommendations, you don't need a $200 chef's knife to cut tomatoes for a sandwich and you don't need anything with copper or cast iron in it. Get a good stainless steel saute pan, a sheet pan or two for the oven, and a heavy bottomed soup pot, if you don't already have them. Don't buy anything that costs more than $50. If you're worried about burning your house down, buy a fire extinguisher and keep it in your kitchen. If you're not worried about burning your house down, buy two of them, because you're the type of person who might burn their house down. If you're still worried, don't deep fry anything, keep a lid near your pan while cooking as a saftey blanket and learn what the word "saute" means and you'll do just fine.

tl;dr: it's not complicated

.

(but in all seriousness this is mostly a pep talk)