#i would rather wait to post this until I had the first fic done

[catfuyus]

— ❝ OUTLIVE THE PAIN ❞ ft. SHOUTO & TOUYA TODOROKI MASTERLIST

»» PAIRING. Shouto Todoroki x Reader x Touya Todoroki

»» THEMES. love triangle, family drama, hero justice system, redemption, self acceptance

»» NOTE. each chapter will have its own set of warnings, there is eventual smut so don’t ignore the warnings ! also p.s. sorry this post got so long, the read more tab wasn’t cooperating !

»» BACKGROUND INFO. reader has a healing quirk and volunteers with helping reformed criminals re-enter society. reader was a former pro-hero before changing careers to help those hero society turned a blind eye to. this takes place after the events of the manga, so Shouto is an adult and has been a pro hero for a few years. Dabi was in jail for a year before being accepted into the reformation program at the behest of Shouto.

»» SUMMARY. former criminal and mass murderer dabi— no, touya todoroki is granted parole after making a deal with the judge. half of the deal is keeping his record clean, attending court ordered therapy, and maintaining a steady job. the other half is living with you, and all that entails. you somehow wind up getting caught up in a whirlwind romance between a convict getting back on his feet and his brother who’s been through hell and back for him. you knew getting caught up in the infamous todoroki family would be messy, but you had no idea how intense things would get between them.

PART ONE: ADJUSTMENTS

Touya moves into your apartment after having spent a little over a year inside a jail cell. Some background info on how you live and plan to co-inhabit the same space. (word count: 2,851)

PART TWO: UNDER THE ASHES

You begin healing sessions with Touya while he contemplates whether he’s ready to see his family outside of a jail cell for the first time in years.

PART THREE: SNOW CONE

You agree to let Shouto take you out as a thanks for all that you’re doing for the family. What you don’t expect is Touya’s reaction.

STATUS: ONGOING

©️sadisticyouko-main | please do not plagiarize, repost, or redistribute in any way to any other platforms, including wattpad and tiktok.

#shouto todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #dabi mha #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #shouto x reader #otp masterlist #the irony of the acronym lol #todoroki multi chap fic #i would rather wait to post this until I had the first fic done #but I need this out the drafts lol

[callsigns-haze]

Behind the scenes, we ain't so clean

pairing: young!president!coriolanus snow x fem!first lady!reader

summary: you both are so composed until it comes to the bedroom stuff

warnings: smut, spanking, fingering, unhinged coryo, work sex, dominance, short fic

A/n: This is my second hunger games post so I hope y'all enjoy!

He's soft. Or at least that's what Y/N thinks about Coryo.

There has always been an oral rule between you and Coryo: if one of them needs anything, say it. However, you don't not want to harm Coryo's feelings. You don't think telling him he's too amazing in bed will work very well because of his large ego.

You're nibbling on your bottom lip and bouncing your leg up and down on the edge of your and Coryo's king-size bed because of this. Usually, you would go nibble on the tips of your nails, but you received a manicure lately, and you're unwilling to feel like you squandered the money.

You get up and begins pacing, thinking about what you should tell Coryo you want to carry out in bed . The ideas are followed by images of him performing these dirty things, and you begin to feel a little moist between your legs, knowing you must stop so you can keep your head clear when the discourse begins.

"Achieving your steps in?" Coryo's raspy voice reverberates throughout the massive bedroom, making Y/N weak in the knees, and you can't wait to see how dark and rough it can get as he vents his sexual frustrations while dominating you.

"Oh! Hi!" You rub the back of your neck, feeling uneasy for no apparent reason, and stands with your knees at an unnatural angle, appearing bent into each other. "W-What're you doing home so early?"

"You're not thrilled to see me?" He smirks, prancing over to you and throwing his arms around your form, pulling your to his body. "Well?" His forehead rubs into yours, urging you to respond, nipping your lips for encouragement.

"M'happy to be able to see you, too." His hands slide downward to grasp your bottom, causing your to groan against his lips because, while it feels nice, you crave more.

"How was the office?" You ask him as he sits down upon the bed. "Busy but we managed."

"Spank me." It comes out more unexpectedly. You had intended to take things slowly and ease the discussion along, but your rapid mind had other ideas.

"What?" Coryo asks amusingly, tilting his body back to get a better look at you.

Y/N is ashamed and unsure if you want to proceed with the chat you had in your brain. "Nothing," you rush out, burying your face in his chest.

"No, no," Coryo insists, tugging your up by your hair, causing Y/N to have a tiny orgasm just from the mild manhandling. "I guess you meant 'spank me'?"

------

I'd never done anything exactly like this before, but thankfully for Coryo, I've always been someone who is willing to try new things. That's why I didn't mind when he tugged my skin tights and knickers all the way down to my ankles, curtly instructing me to take my 'Heels off'.

So I kicked them off, standing much more easily on the floor while my elbows supported me on top of his wooden desk. I believed he casually flung the shreds of material away before stroking both of his enormous hands up both of my legs, reaching the back of my thighs and causing goosebumps to appear on every inch of flesh.

He hiked my black skirt up over my hips, exposing my rear to him, and I heard him take a sharp inhale before smoothing both of his hands over my bottom cheeks.

"I'm going to spank you, okay?" He breathed and I gulped, nodding.

I was shocked as he abruptly grabbed on my hair, forcing my head up, my ass pressing into his powerful bulge as his lips skated harshly over my stretched neck.

"Okay, what?" Coryo seemed annoyed, and I assumed that the more I spoke, the more he would praise me rather than growl at me.

"Okay, spank me," I replied. "Please, please spank me."

He squeezed at the cheeks, satisfied with my words. "That's it. Go on, sweetheart, beg for it."

When his hand came down again, I let out a yell and felt each of his rings on my searing flesh. When his palm spanked me again, the left side of my face pushed to the desk and nudged forward, and I let out a delighted groan.

"Good girl, Y/n," he said. "Good girl, for me." I waited for his hand to spank me again, but nothing happened, so my brow wrinkled and I arched my back, looking for his hard hand.

"You've had enough, baby," he said softly, stroking and caressing the inflamed spot he'd battered.

I whined, pushing my ass out further. "More," I breathed. "Want more."

I had no idea my eyelids were closed until he tugged on my hair again, lips pressing to the region just behind my ear and sucking softly before skimming his teeth over the flesh. I gave a throaty groan as Coryo hummed and thrust his hips forward.

"Felt good," I praised him.

With two of his fingers running up the folds and then circling over my swelled nub, the hand that wasn't in my hair ran across my front, diving between my legs and coming to rest in my centre, causing my eyes to flutter shut. "You're so wet, I can—"

I pushed back against him while whining and pleading for more—for him. With a moan, he jutted his hips forward and his fingers moved more quickly inside of me. It felt exhilarating, but it was definitely not how I wanted it to end. Despite my right hand's strong grip on his arm to stop him, his strength overcame it and he kept digging his fingers in and out.

"N-no, not like this," I groaned ineffectively as Coryo continued to accelerate. "Coryo, stop." I whimpered, trying to get his fingers out from between my thighs and picturing how he would feel inside of me.

He said, "Come," but I shook my head. "You believe you have a say?" His fingers were working quicker than before, and he nearly laughed.

"Good." He gave me praise and helped me get through my orgasm till he felt that I was too sensitive and pulled his moist fingers away. My eyes closed, my chest fell back against his desk, rising and falling as I struggled to gather myself and find my breath.

"I don't-" I let out a startled cry and shuddered when I felt Coryo's shaft poke its way out of my door and then easily slide in.

"One more?" Warm hands gripped my hips as he filled me to the brim, my overstimulated insides convulsing around him as he spoke.

"N-," I whined shakily, feeling him pull almost all the way out before slipping back in.

"You certainly can," he said. "Baby, just one more. Please give me one more. With pleasurable, plea-laden words, I could only picture the sight on his face. I couldn't take my eyes off his desk to see what was going on, but I figured he was biting his lower lip and that my tight walls were squeezing him tight because to his enormous length.

"You can. Just one more." Coryo let out a few short, breathy gasps, and I did my best to get myself off his desk.

He felt so good being close to me, so comfortable, so completely full. I didn't believe my body could handle it, but before I knew it, I was groaning like before as he filled me up each time he sank in and out.

Then, there was a loud and clear knock at the door, making us freeze and bulge our eyes out of our sockets.

"President? Mr. Jackman is here for the hunger games debate you booked, but you're not answering." Said a clerk through the door.

"We'll finish later, darlin'"

Hunger games taglist:

@rosiahills22

@shanimallina87

@callsign-magnolia

@hardballoonlove

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@buckysteveloki-me

@hookslove1592

@kmc1989

@callsign-dexter

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagine

[martianbugsbunny]

Hour One (A Kalluzeb Fic)

*falling down the stairs* I did it! I finished my post-Zero Hour fic, it's so tasty to me <3 I'm not even gonna ramble about it I'm just gonna get right to the fic bc I love it!!! read on and enjoy!!!

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

There was a moment of hesitation, of doubt, and then Kallus allowed himself to settle next to Zeb, with a strong purple arm around his shoulders. As he started drifting off, safe for the first time in months and knowing his injuries would be cared for, Kallus thought he felt Zeb’s fingers gently rubbing across his arm, and there was a little pit of warmth in his chest that kept the cold of pain and guilt out.

#come get ur juice kalluzebbies #alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios #kalluzeb #star wars #Star Wars rebels #rebels #post zero hour #post zero hour fic #hurt/comfort #fic #I've been talking about this thing for at least a month now I think #it's finally done so nobody needs to set my house on fire lol #martianbugsbunny writes fic

[anonymooseforever007]

Man of My Dreams

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Y/N is one of the newest secretaries at the Shelby Company and she's always eager to make her bosses proud. But one night, when Tommy give her the order to watch one of his business partners.... maybe she took the order "by any way you can" a bit to literally....

A/N: Hi y'all! There's nothing graphic, but this fic does contain a short mention of forced prostitution by some aweful bosses over their secretaries, but nothing happens here. And aside from usual Peaky Language and sexual innuendos I don't think there are any other TW's for this story! I was gonna post this later but I'm pretty please with how it turned out so here it is now 😂 I just wanted to write a nervous reader meeting cheeky Alfie! Enjoy!❤️

WC- 3.2k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?"

".....because I love you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(A little while earlier)

Mr. Shelby had given you one job. Only one job left today and he said it was vey important that you complete it at all costs and by any means necessary. If you failed there maybe be a lot of trouble and not just for you. But what was that job?

Keep Alfred Solomons inside the office...

It was after closing time at the betting shop and while almost everyone else had gone home you were still working on a few papers Mr. Shelby wanted done by tomorrow. And while they wouldn't take too long, you were still a newer secretary at the company and rather eager to please your bosses. You were also one of the younger secretaries and this was one of your first jobs that consisted of more than stocking shelves or sweet talking rude customers in the bakery. And while everything had gone smoothly so far, you still found yourself accepting the extra work from time to time in order to get in your boss's good graces. He still paid for the time of course, very well actually. But as you'd learn today, late office hours often came with unexpected surprises too. 

One of these began when Mr. Shelby suddenly walked through the main floor towards his office. Only he wasn't alone. Walking a few paces behind him was another man. You'd recognized him as Alfie Solomons, an imposing man who owned the "Bakery" that Arthur Shelby was always grumbling about. You hadn't actually spoken to him or even met him yet. The most you'd gotten was rumors from the other women in the shop about all the terrible things he'd done. Even worse than some of the rumours about your boss. But tonight it appeared that would change. You didn't miss the quick glance made towards you by the Camden Town man when Mr. Shelby passed your desk with a quick acknowledgment, before heading straight to his office.

Only six minutes into the important meeting, Mr. Shelby had been called to the Garrison to deal with a fight started by his brothers. He had been annoyed to no end at having to fix yet another one of his brothers' impulsive decisions, but seeing as Polly was helping Esme with her new baby, he was the only one left to go. Well, the only one Arthur and John would listen to if they were half as drunk as Finn said. And Finn himself was also being dragged back to the bar by Tommy to help control his brothers too, so he couldn't watch the other gangster either. Even if he lacked his brother's stomachs for fighting, Finn still had almost a head over each of them and could hold them back well enough if needed. 

So Tommy brought him along too, leaving you behind with the order to keep the other gangster company until he returned. It didn't matter that Alfie had already agreed to waiting until Tommy came back. Or in his words "graciously relented more of his precious time" in the name of "proof of his good will." Tommy still didn't want him snooping around the office while he was gone. So he'd given you strict instructions to keep the gruff man in his office until he got back. You were also to make sure he didn't mess with much in there either. 

You'd never anticipate just how astray that one plan would take you...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi. I'm Y/N, one of the secretaries. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Shelby wanted me to look at his typewriter and clean up the office a bit before I left. One of the keys has been a bit sticky lately. So don't let me both you, and if you need anything let me know and I can get it for you."

You'd figured that had been a pretty decent thing to open with. It was a good excuse for staying in the office, and Tommy had wanted you to fix the key for a while now. But you started to rethink your opener, as all you got in return was a brief nod from Mr. Solomons who continued to read over the paper in his hands. Pursing your lips in a line and feeling slightly awkward now, you just nodded to yourself moving to Mr. Shelby's typewriter. You did get a questioning stare after that when you picked up the device and moved it to the table in the middle of the room. That was the table between Mr. Solomon's desk and the door. It meant you had a better chance of stopping him should he try to bolt. Didn't mean it was a big chance though. No, you didn't doubt this man could easily pin you if he tried, and you hoped in the back of your mind that he really did plan to stay as agreed. And so, glancing at the unchanging position of your charge every few minutes, you set to work on pulling apart the typewriter...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.

Pure uncomfortable silence had descended upon the small office nearly half an hour after Mr. Shelby left. Well, you found it uncomfortable, but Alfred seemed to have no issue with the quiet that settled over the room. By this point he'd moved from the chair he was originally sitting on to the one behind him, closer to the bookshelf. Which happened to be directly across from your own seat. 

He sat, unbothered, still reading the same contract he had when you came in. He must of gone through it twelve times by now. Occasionally, he'd mumble under his breath, causing your head to shoot up, waiting for something to happen with bated breath. One of these times, to slight humiliation, your head had shot up expecting to see him still looking down at the papers...only to be met with his own piercing eyes. Neither of you spoke at that moment, you just stared eyes wide with surprise while his remained unreadable. The moment was broken by the sound of a siren out of the window causing you to look over. You didn't notice the slight smile the briefly passed the man's face.

It had been fifteen minutes since that moment and you were finally starting to relax, thinking that maybe this really wouldn't be as bad as you thought. Keeping him here didn't seem too bad.

Until, without warning Alfie stood up and quickly walked towards the desk. Thinking he was trying to look at Mr. Shelby's private papers you also shot up. But when he turned back around you saw he was only grabbing a new pen, leaving you standing there... once again staring. He must really be starting to believe you're a creep of some sorts, you thought. Trying to save face you'd headed towards the desk yourself, under the guise of grabbing a piece of paper for the now fixed typewriter. You didn't expect him to, but you were glad the your company didn't point out the stack of paper sitting right next to the machine in the table. And with that, you went back to your seat, trying to calculate how many drinks you'd need after this. 

You couldn't explain it, but for some reason you felt like you were doing this wrong. There was some source of nerves buzzing in the back of your head that just wouldn't settle. You chalked it up to this being the "most important" job you'd been given yet, aside from when Polly had you watch the empty shop for an hour one night after locking up so she could chew one of her nephews out for their latest mess. You had been so nervous about someone trying to break in, you'd almost concussed poor Arthur with his own stapler when he'd come in the back door. The only thing that saved him was the fact he actually fell back on his ass, terrified, because you'd popped out so closely to him. You were also lucky he happened to be sober and registered it was you before fighting back. Neither of you mentioned that night to the others.... and neither of you ever would.

The silence continued for a few endless minutes longer before it was finally broken. Alfie groaned lightly as he got to his feet. Luckily you hadn't stood up this time and were able to slow the rise of your head, looking up at him slightly concerned. Even if you didn't know the man, you'd noticed the slight wince he'd made when he stood up, using the couch arm to stabilise his ascent as he reached for his cane by the table.

"Right. Now that's enough of that poppet. You said if I wanted anything you'd give it to me correct? And now I know what I want so you're gonna help me?"

Eyes wide in shock, both from the fact your burly companion spoke, and of what he spoke, you shot up once again in slight panic. Shit Shit Shit. Not only had his sudden actions threw you off your axis, but now he was also looking at you with a stare that reminded you of how John looked at Esme many times before they'd disappeared to the back rooms for half an hour or so. Esme usually came out looking brilliant as usual, but John wasn't one to hide his messy clothes or the marks on his neck. And now Alfred Solomons seemed to be giving you the same look as his eyes roved your body. He tilted his head and took another step forward, indicating that you still hadn't answered his question.

"I...I did say that yes. What do you need Mr. Solomons?"

"Well let's not dance around anymore. Call me Alfie or Alfred if you'd like treacle. I've seen you starting at me," Alfie moved around the table until he was only a few steps away, "I think you know exactly what I want. I think you know exactly how this is suppose to play out. Your boss leaving you here as 'company' for little ole me? You know what happens now right?"  

The last words were spoken so closely you could feel his breath against your face. Your breath hitched realising what he meant. No. It couldn't be that. You knew Mr. Shelby wanted you to keep his business partner company, but surely he didn't mean that kind of company. Your boss wouldn't do that right? You'd never even met the man before today and he wanted you to....

"Show me where the bathroom is why don't you? I've been needing a piss since the trip up."

Your entire body seemed to relax hearing those words. Yes, Alfred Solomons was a very handsome man, the kind you often fantasised with your friends about meeting one day. But that didn't mean you had any desire to sleep with the man for your boss's benefit. You'd heard about monsters who forced that from their poor secretaries. 'A sweeter part of the business deals' is what some of them wanted. Men like that disgusted you, and you were relieved your boss wasn't that way. If he was though, you believed you'd actually have shot him yourself for such a suggestion. Yes, you had a habit of being quiet and were often anxious about if you were correctly doing your job, but you'd be damned if any man thought he could treat you that way. Your father had taught you how a man should respect a woman and your mother gave you a gun if he didn't. A gun that was currently locked in your nightstand, but nonetheless you figured you'd have time to grab the stapler on Tommy's desk if you needed to. Though now that Solomons had brought it up, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. After all, it was just you and Mr. Solomons in the office. Mr. Shelby wasn't back yet and there was no telling how long he'd be. What if he got to you before you reached the stapler?

"It's alright dove, I'm not gonna hurt ya," Alfie's words broke through your thoughts once again, and you'd nodded this time hearing the truth in his words. He'd noticed you'd relaxed upon his last demand, only to tense up a bit in thought moments later. Based on your quick glance towards the stapler on Tommy's desk, he could tell you were now thinking of another request he'd might have made. One that honestly he wouldn't have minded indulging in he thought, taking another quick look at the woman before him. But he didn't because of the uncertain look in your eye and the scolding voice of his late mother telling him off for what he'd just done. 

He knew it was wrong of him to imply such a thing, especially when he'd only just met you and when you seemed nervous as it was. And for a man who rarely regrets his actions, he did feel a slight hint of guilt for scaring you. His mother would have tore him a whole new asshole if she'd heard him make such a comment, implying what the young woman practically had no choice to do. Given, he certainly had made many comments like those before and they were often eagerly accepted and lead to quite a few passionate nights while Cyril was sent home with Ollie... But that didn't mean now was the time for them. Not when it was late at night alone in Tommy Shelby's office the his secretary he'd met forty five minutes ago. Wouldn't that be a story to hold over the shorter gangster though? The time he bent Tommy's new secretary over the man's own desk in under an hour. Alfie felt the seat of his pants tighten slightly at that idea, but tried to push it off because it still wasn't the time for that. 

"The bathroom is this way."

Your words broke him out of his thoughts and Alfie looked over to see you standing by the office door you'd been guarding so "intensely" the whole time. Like your time in the office, the way to the bathroom was also silent. You walked Alfie all the way up to the door, and he was half surprised you didn't accompany him to actual toilet seat. 

After a few moments standing awkwardly outside the door, feeling like you sister waiting for her five year old son, Alfie finally came out again. He didn't even wait for you as he made his way back through the main floor. But instead of cutting a straight path through the other desks like before, he was weaving his way around and between the tables. Sometimes he'd pause and look at the papers on a seat even though they were likely just blank log pages, everything else having been put away for the night. Then he'd straighten up again and travel a completely different direction than before. And because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't take anything off the other desks, you followed him. 

Up and down and around. If someone were to walk into the company just now, they'd have seen what looked like a two person game of tag....One you seemed to be loosing. Finally he reached the door of Tommy's office again, stopping so suddenly, you almost ran into him. 

"Well that was a rush wasn't it poppet? Had to get me daily exercise in didn't I?"

The intimidation you felt from this man was finally starting to wear off. All of the sudden the mood of environment changed again. Alfie sighed and shrugged his shoulders like he'd made a final decision. 

"Right. That's really enough of that poppet. Seems your Boss is a no show and I'm a busy man," Alfie stated as he gathered up the papers he's been looking at. You froze, watching him stand up and make his way to the door. Shit shit shit. He was joking again right? He was suppose to stay put. But now he's moving towards the door and doing the very thing he wasn't suppose to do. Why was he leaving now? He said he'd stay. Shoot. You wanted to go back to the uncomfortable silence from before.

You looked around the room for a reason to keep him there. But aside from Tommy's stapler, you didn't see any means of holding him back. Besides it wasn't like the stapler would be of much use. Tommy always forgot to refill it when the staples were gone and had a bad habit of stealing yours and never giving it back. Sure, he technically owned every stapler in the building, but you were still very proud of your own little tool. It hardly ever got jammed. But now it was no where in sight and Tommy's stapler was as usual, empty, meaning unless you wanted to beat Alfie over the head with it, you were out of luck. Sure, you could probably toss it at him as a distraction and then roll the desk chair into his bad hip, but that just felt mean. Arthur would absolutely love it and might have given you a raise for doing it even, but there was a larger part of you that spoke against hitting a man in his war wound. That just felt like a special type of cruel. But it meant you were left with no other option but to witness Alfie walk out the door. As you watched, Mr. Shelby's words flew through your head, talking about how important it was for Alfie to stay until he returned and how you need to keep Alfie there at all costs. Suddenly, an idea hit you.

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?" The words came out absentmindedly, Alfie already focused on what he'd do when he got home.

".....because I love you?"

Alfie's hand was on the door when he froze, hearing your almost desperate plea. Spinning around as much as he could with his hip, he faced you again. Confusion covered his face, quickly replaced by an almost cocky amusement.

"You love me?"

"Yes," you nodded somewhat confidently," I've loved you since the moment I first met you."

Alfie, tilted his head and took a step closer, raising and eyebrow.

"Well poppet, considering moment I met ya was an hour ago, I'd say it's a love that won't take long to get over."

He turned again but this time you shoved yourself infront of the door before he could grab it.

"No it's not!"

"It's not?"

Now Alfie was confused. He'd have remembered meeting a pretty face like yours before, especially it it accompanied your rather memorable personality, you'd shown today. On the other hand, you were cursing yourself out internally, berating yourself for the impulsive lie. Why didn't you just grab the stapler? Scrambling to cover yourself now, you delved deeper into your story.

"It's not. The first time we met was... it was... at.... no by.... It was by..... in .in in.... IN MY DREAMS!! The first time we met was in my dreams and I've been in love with you since then!! Yes that's it!"

You nodded vigorously, smiling, hoping he'd believe you. He didn't obviously, he knew you were still trying to follow your boss's orders.... but damn was this fun to watch. Alfie raised an eyebrow moving a step closer again.

"Are you saying I'm the man of your dreams poppet?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I think about you every night."

"You do?" Alfie was only a step away now. "What exactly about me do you think dove?"

You thought for a moment, scanning his body for things to talk about, not that it would be hard, but you felt a little pressured here. If Alfie moved any closer his beard would brush you chin.

"Beard.... Your beard is fluffy, and looks soft," you started," and your stance is...like a sturdy man's stance..you have pretty eyes too...and you have arms... I like arms. You look like you'd give good hugs... or could like make my bed," Alfie bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Also legs, you have legs, and a cane for your hip. You could like do stuff with the cane ... maybe I don't know. Some people may like that. I know people into that." You had no clue what your were saying at this point, just rambling and Alfie didn't know if it was embarrassing or enduring. But before you could delve deeper into your hole, he stopped you.

"Alright poppet. I get it don't I? You're madly in love with me and the idea of me leaving just breaks your heart, don't it?"

"Yes?...." You nodded, not believing that he was believing it. Maybe?... "It breaks my heart and that's why you can't leave. You have to stay with me. In here. In this office....So you can't leave. Because I absolutely love you with all my heart and if you were to go I wouldn't know what to do. I'm just lost without you Alfred Solomons. You are the man of my dreams an..."

"Y/N, What the fuck?"

Startled by Finn's voice you cursed, turning around to see not only the youngest Shelby, but Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael staring at the scene before them. Evidently during your "heartfelt" speech you hadn't noticed them arrive back to the office. Nor had you seen them opening Tommy's door, only to hear the last bit of you professing your "love" for the man who'd screwed them over more times than John had kids....which was to say a lot. Tommy's eyes met yours in confusion and slight concern as your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to provide an explanation. When he said keep Alfie under control he meant, just make sure the man didn't piss in the whiskey decanters or draw horns on Arthur's picture. He wasn't sure why that involved professing your love. In the back of his mind, it passed that you could be a spy, and Tommy honestly hoped that wasn't the case. He liked you, Lizzie never let him take her stapler. A drunken John just smiled in amusement, pleased with the free entertainment. Meanwhile, Finn and Michael were silently making faces at each other, arguing over who'd grab Arthur's legs, and who'd get arms if he decided to act on the dangerous glare he was giving Alfie. He wasn't actually drunk, but Arthur saw you like another Ada, and he didn't like the idea of Alfie romancing you. Arthur also had a deep seated despise for Alfie in general, but everyone knew that. Now they were all looking at your for an explanation.

Looking over your shoulder, the stapler was still empty.

Perfect.... 

#peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons #peaky blinders

[im-overstimulated-and-im-sad]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @nancygillianmvp @anewkindofme @sznofthesticks @paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings 💝

This is from the next chapter of my TK and Sophie fic (which for my friends reading it, heads up, the month of March needs to be two chapters, cause otherwise it would be too damn long - I think I'll still post them at the same time though) (this is from the first part still)

2011 -

TK yawned. “Dad, the thing that fell out of my pocket when we were….” He didn’t finish that sentence. “Can I have it back?” It came out so innocently; it made Owen think about when TK was five and asking for another cookie cause he had eaten all his dinner. Which, this thought quelled a lot of things Owen wanted to say, and he softly replied, “No, son. I’m afraid not”. “Why not?” TK whined, still sounding like that little boy with the enormous eyes. “Dad, they’re just mood stabilizers. That’s it. I really think you’re making this into a bigger thing than it is”. Owen pulled the bottle out of his pocket to look at it. “TK, these looks like heavy grade narcotics,” he said. “And this bottle looks like it was prescribed to someone who isn’t you. Which means, you shouldn’t be walking around with these”. TK groaned softly and rested his head on the seat. “Dad—” “And which part am I making into a bigger thing than it is?” Owen asked. “I’m serious. Would it be the part at [redacted], where you waited until my back was turned before you snuck out? Or the fact that that you were planning to sneak out, and had this worked out with [redacted] beforehand?” That got his son’s attention. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. “How do you know about that?” “We saw it on your Facebook,” Owen told him. “That’s how I was able to find you”. “You…” TK shook his head slightly. “You hacked into my private Facebook page? That’s a huge invasion of my privacy, Dad”. “And that is very low on the list of alarming things that have happened in the last few hours,” Owen replied. “And no one was hacking — nor is your page very private, for that matter. You hadn’t logged out of the website on the computer in your mother’s living room”. The look on TK’s face told Owen that it was news to his son that he had done this (or had forgotten to, rather).

No pressure tagging - I tag @liminalmemories21 @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @honeybee-taskforce

@chaotictarlos @firstprince-history-huh @reyestrandd @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@carlos-tk @herefortarlos @chicgeekgirl89 @literateowl

@welcometololaland @thebumblecee @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng

@freneticfloetry @goodways @happilylovingchaos @lightningboltreader

@birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @kiankiwi @actualalligator

@just-inside-her @inkweedandlizards @lochnesswriter @tarlos4eva

@mikibwrites @alltheprettyplaces @doublel27 @ladytessa74 @fallout-mars

@theghostofashton @vineofroses @sugdenlovesdingle @tailoredshirt

and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 🫶

#wip wednesday #911 lone star

[cottonpuffmouse]

Warm Nights

More or less the Vash smut people were waiting for. You two get together for some late night fun. While this is not my first fanfic by any means, it is my first x-reader. Constructive Criticism is welcomed and encouraged. Also if anyone knows how to structure posts like this in a cuter way, please tell me how.

Tags: Lemon, L-bomb, Fem!Reader(if there’s a push for GN readers, I’ll start next fic), Light Body Worship, Light Praise.

Whether or not true love existed on Gunsmoke was usually left to the poets. Friendships, family, alliances, all of that existed plenty. But the feeling of being pulled to someone, of your heart trying to reach out through your rib cage, that was rare.

Did you love Vash?

You liked to think so. It had to be love if you were creeping down the hotel's hallway to his room. If you were just friends, you could walk right up to his door and bang on it until he answered. Instead, he'd begged that you sneak out of the girl's room quietly after they'd fallen asleep and go to him.

Despite your attempt at secrecy, the floorboards creaked under each step. You passed more rooms, each door one more closer to Vash's, until you reached the end of the hallway. Vash's door was identical to the ones you passed, except for the light shining out from under it.

You didn't knock so much as tap on the door quietly, feeling the wood grain under your nails. And silently it opened for you.

Vash stood on the other side, hushing you with a cheeky smile. He had changed out of his usual uniform into sweatpants and an old cotton shirt that was more hole than shirt. Through the Swiss cheesed fabric, you could catch glimpses of old puckered skin and dark grey scars. You briefly thought that this shirt and Vash had quite a bit in common before he pulled you inside.

You watched him peek outside, checking to ensure the hallway was clear before he closed the door. Then he gave you that cheeky boyish smile, like you two had just escaped a punishment together, and whispered, "Thanks for coming."

"Of course, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he assured, making a soothing gesture with his hands. "I just figured..."

Vash paused. His face scrunched up as though he'd just done something incredibly embarrassing.

"You figured what?" You pressed.

"Well I just thought we could hang out..."

Without the group? Alone? You thought as your heart started to beat in your ears.

You suddenly realized you were the only two people in the room. It felt a lot smaller than it was, as if the walls themselves were pushing you and Vash closer. Maybe it was imaginary but you could just barely feel the heat coming off him. You rolled up your sleeves.

"Um, what do you want to do?" You asked slowly.

Vash swallowed and suddenly couldn't keep eye contact with you. He would briefly stare at you like you were on fire before glancing at the ceiling or walls. It dawned on you that perhaps a young man asking to meet in the middle of the night had less than pure intentions.

But this was also Vash. Infamous for his inability to make an actual move.

Not that you would mind him making a move. You'd traveled together long enough to see him shed that coat and show off the black undersuit. More specifically the way it showed off his chest and the endless scars running down his arms. One could just imagine tracing their fingertips over each one, riding the ruined flesh down to his hand.

Vash had held you before, though usually just to save your life or help you into a Tomas. He had warm and rough palms but rather delicate and slim fingers. The way they wrapped around your arm or waist was always gentle, always polite. Even now, when you could see his hand twitching out of ache to touch something, they stayed by his sides.

"We could play cards?" You offered.

"We...could," he said slowly.

"Is there something on your mind? Maybe something not so group friendly?"

Vash nodded like a child who'd been caught stealing.

"And maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Knives?" You questioned a bit more. Vash nodded again, his head hanging even lower. "Maybe it has something to do with me?"

"You're really good at this!" He said in shock. "Are you able to read my mind?"

"No, or I'd be able to see all your dirty thoughts," you teased.

To your surprise, a blush started to fill his entire face. Red spread from his cheeks all the way to his forehead until he was pure pink. Vash looked away and found a spot on the floor to stare at.

"I was just teasing!"

He huffed. "Fine, let's just play cards."

"Did you call me here to play cards?"

"Well I don't want you to think I invited you here for that!”

You blinked. "Invited me here for sex? Is that what you mean?"

Vash covered his face with a scream. "No! No, I mean-I just wanted to spend some time together!"

"Okay, okay," you soothed. "Let's just have a seat."

Without uncovering his face, Vash stumbled onto the bed. Then he peeked through his fingers at you - the blush still lingering.

There was a moment where the air shifted and a look of sadness wiped the rest of the blush away. His hands fell into his lap limply. Vash had that blank smile you'd come to dread when his hand came away. You felt your shoulders sink.

"Sorry," he said, a blanket apologize for his entire life.

"It's okay. Maybe we could just talk?" You sat with him on the bed. "How have you been?" You had only been next to him two-thirds of everyday for the past year. Vash shrugged, eyes staring at the peeling wallpaper.

You planted yourself in his lap. Vash could always stop you if he wanted. And with the way his hand reached for you, he wanted you to stay. “Just kiss me, Vash.”

He leaned forward slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. When you didn’t, he cupped the your head and pulled you towards him. Vash's kisses were something cheeky. Gentle pecks at first, he kissed the corners of your mouth before meeting your lips proper. A heat soared through you as excitement filled your body.

Vash's lips were a little chapped, a slight drag on yours as he pushed another kiss onto you. Your hands touched his chest, thumbing through the holes in the cotton to his blazing skin.

A sparkling sensation ran down your spine as his hands touched your back and pulled you further into his lap. You couldn't help arching into Vash a little as you felt something hard press into your thigh. You were so aware of the layers between you two as his hand continued to brush across your shirt.

"You can go under my shirt-" You snuck out between kisses.

While he kissed you, his hands were very polite about slipping under your shirt and pressing across your stomach. You gasped at the contact, hot and cold all at once. His hands were still rough but they slid up your sides in a smooth manner. Vash stopped just below your breasts, thumbs rubbing the soft tissue there.

You were sure he could feel your heartbeat, especially when he pulled away to look you in the eyes. He was breathing a bit heavier but his gaze was serious.

"Are you okay with continuing?" He asked.

"I was the one who said we should kiss," you said.

Vash smiled a bit. "Yeah but...that's just kissing. And I was kinda hoping to do more than kissing."

"Yes, I want to go further. Much, much further."

"And you know you can tell me to stop at anytime?" Vash reasured.

Damn him for being so nice. The only thing you wanted was more of that simmering heat and he was being so steadfast in his morality.

You nodded, hoping the questions ended there as you drew him in for another kiss. He got the message, helping you out of your shirt before grabbing your waist again. You eased into him, letting your bodies press against each other. Vash managed to get your bra off, leaving you bare before him.

His eyes combed over every inch of you with wonder, followed soon by his hands. He ran his hands down your back as he brought you in for a kiss.

"You're beautiful." He nuzzled your chest to send the point home.

“You're beautiful," you swore to him, leaving no room for argument. To prove your point, you started to pull off his shirt. He let out a whimper of disapproval but otherwise let you rip it off him, helping you get his arms through.

It was quite a scene.

Despite your excitement, your soul sighed at the sight of the scars. Third degree burns left bright pink patches on his arms and his chest had been gouged by all manner of weaponry. He was lucky to be alive and you were grateful to have him there.

There was an artistic side of you though, one that traced your finger in loops along the ruined skin. Brushing your thumbs against what were once great gashes without hesitation. Even if Vash twitched at every touch, you didn't flinch at any bump or rough edge.

Vash's face was red again as he looked away. "Sorry. I know it's a lot."

"Yeah it is hot," you teased. He let out a yowl, hiding his face. "Oh stop it! I'm serious, I love it!"

"...Yeah?" He curled out a bit.

"Yeah," you whispered, settling in his lap again. You brought his hands back to your sides as you kissed him again.

Perhaps emboldened by your touching, Vash finally brushed against your breasts. He was gentle in massaging them, never squeezing for a moment or two. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, releasing a gentle buzz through your system.

He leaned down to kiss your breasts lightly. Each kiss made your nipples tingle. Vash licked one, his tongue sliding over the mound to elicit a twitch from you before sucking lightly. Your hands met his shoulders to keep control of him as he continued to kissand squeeze your breasts.

Without thinking, you sat back against him, looking for a bit of fiction and finding it in his hips. Vash released your chest to wrap an arm around your waist. He pulled you down against his cock straining in his sweatpants with a soft moan.

The first contact was something intense. A shudder ran through you as you felt his cock press against your underwear. Even through your panties, you felt the length press against your folds, meaning it must be quite something.

As the thought was flooding your mind, Vash switched breasts. You felt him gently bring his teeth over your nipple and a soft rush flooded you to your fingertips. It was natural for you to sigh and cradle his head as you two moved together.

You became very aware he still had pants on as you tried to grind down just a little harder, to have more of his thigh brush against your tingling heat. Finally, as just the right angle, you could feel him brush your clit. Vash's grip became insistent as he pulled your hips together.

He kissed you again and a warmth blossomed between you two. It was like Vash wanted to consume you, rolling your hips together and pressing his lips to yours.

"Ah-" Vash let out a small moan before he bit his lip. You kissed him again to open him up and were rewarded with a soft, "Yes..."

Vash stopped suddenly, reaching between you two and under your skirts to tug on your underwear. You helped him get them off you without breaking the kiss. He rubbed your inner thighs with long smooth strokes until you were pushing against him.

Between your skirt, Vash stroked your pussy. Your thighs clamped around his hand as you felt yourself clench around nothing. He gently pulled your legs apart to rub his thumb against your clit. He kept your thighs open as they tried to twitch closed, lavishing your clit in soft strokes.

You bit your lip, rolling your hips into his hand. For a fraction of a second, you thought you saw Vash smirk.

"That's it," he whispered. Vash kissed your neck as you pressed against him. The heat was building in you as he kissed up to you ear. "You're doing so well for me."

"Kn-knock it-" You tried to tease back but he pushed the tip of a finger into you. Something in you squeezed around it hopelessly before he returned to massaging your clit.

A warmth crept up your neck like the flame was trying to escape you. Your body twisted and bounced trying to feel something more than the petting touches. Your breath came in pants as you mewled against him.

"Are you going to cum?" Vash smiled down at you. You blushed and hid your face in his shoulder as you shuddered at a particular swipe of his thumb. He pet your back with his other hand, the soothing gesture in contrast with the wicked way his fingers kept pressing into you.

Just as your pussy tightened again, he slid his middle finger into you. It was an absolutely blissful pressure and feeling it slide in and out of you was delightfully dirty. It was Vash's hands after all and it felt safe to just melt in them.

So you let yourself rest against him with a happy sigh. He added a finger, testing with a few pumps before looking at you for approval. You wanted something more than his hands but two fingers were a good start.

Vash was doing a good job of keeping your mind free of anything but him, dragging the pads of his fingers against your walls. The hand on your back melted you into a puddle as he kept fingering your dripping core.

With a soft sigh, Vash pulled away and you got to see how his blue eyes contrasted with his bubblegum blush. He kissed your lips gently and whispered, "Guess it’s about time we do this.'"

"Yes," you moaned back. "Yes, it is!"

"Heh, sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were ready," he said bashfully. Vash shimmed out of his sweats a bit. Just enough to pull himself free of his boxers and let his cock slap against your thigh.

As you fought down the blush, you were a bit intrigued by it. The head of his cock was a similar color to his blush and preceded a thick pale shaft. It was maybe six or seven inches, quite large by most standards. You wrapped your hand around it, just getting your fingers around the girth. A single pump and Vash was bucking wildly into your first.

"I'm getting kinda-ah-I thought we said it was time!" He stammered as you stroked his cock.

"I'm getting a feel for it."

Vash laughed awkwardly. "You'll feel it, I'm sure."

Your eyes meet. There was a silence with nothing but you two breathing. The whole world stood still to be with you two in the moment before.

Then you got on your knees, shuffling some of the blankets away, and guided his cock to your soft pussy. The tip of his cock slipped against your folds and on your aching clit. You steadied yourself and let the tip slide into you.

His hands flew to your hips to help balance you and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. With a deep breath, you sank down onto Vash's cock slowly. It filled you inch by satisfying inch. Your pussy welcomed it with a tight hug as you settled into his lap.

It was clear Vash could take it from there, holding you with one arm and letting you fall back onto the bed. With Vash on top, it was easier for him to roll his hips into you and give you that last bit of his cock you’d missed.

He thrust into you slowly and pulled out even slower, languishing in the way you squeezed him. Each slow fuck was better than the last. Vash's cock rubbed deep inside you before pressing against somewhere enlightening.

Your entire body lit up like the dashboard of a dying car as he thrust again. You grabbed his shoulders before pulling him down for another kiss. His hands gripped your hips as the thrusts came faster. Tapping against your core harder and without relent, his cock was gliding against all the nerves of your pussy.

The sound of your hips meeting became audible with a shift of Vash's hips. A tight knot formed in your stomach. Through the haze of pleasure, you could hear Vash softly moaning in your ear. Your pussy squeezing around him as hot bright pleasure fluttered your middle. You were gasping for air as he continued to make that pressure build in you.

"Good, this feels so-" Vash cut himself off with gasping cry. "This is! I love you!"

He didn't seem to notice the confession, slamming against your G-spot without care for if you'd like to respond. The bed scrapped against the floor with each movement as you two lost yourself in each other.

In your stomach, fluttering with delight, you felt that knot start to become a little too tight. You started to lose your grasp on anything but his cock thrusting in and out of you. Your head started to blur into nothing but Vash and the pleasure he was wringing from your pussy.

"Vash-" You whimpered softly in his arms.

Vash nodded and released your hip. He dragged one hand down your side and over your stomach to your twitching core. His thumb started rubbing your clit in contrastingly slow circles. Your back ached, desperate to feel more of him against you.

He kissed you for the final time as that knot snapped and washed his love over you. Your body hummed as he continued rolling your hips together. Then Vash let out a high whimper before you felt something hot gush inside you. It was just enough to make your toes curl as he rode out his orgasm with long strokes against your gripping pussy.

He pulled out with a shuddering sigh. "I-"

You rushed to carass his cheek. "I'm not worried about that...just...hush."

In a boneless heap, Vash collapsed beside you and pulled you to his chest like a lifelong security blanket. In turn, you relaxed into him, throwing a leg over his. As you both tried to quietly catch your breath, you could feel Vash's warmth like it was sunshine on a cool day.

WIth his arms wrapped around you and the lingering high making you feel a bit silly, you buried your face into his chest. In the moment Vash smelled like sweat and basic body soap. Sensory bliss engulfed you as easily as sleep did.

As you let your eyelids slide shut, you felt Vash stroking your back again, softly petting you before whispering, "I meant it, you know."

You snapped awake. You sat up before reaching down and holding his cheeks. "I was distracted before. I love you too...I mean it. I love you, Vash. Genuinely and truly and not just because we had great sex."

He gave you a tired smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you, I love you too." Vash's cheeks got red again and he looked away before he asked, "You're gonna stay and cuddle though, right?"

"Yes, oh yes!" You settled back into Vash's arms comfortably. The moon peeked through his curtains at the lovers nestled together. A sigh you'd been holding for years came off your chest as you wrapped your arms around him.

There was a lot of trouble ahead of you both but fear held no captive in your heart. Maybe things weren't going to be okay. Maybe there's isn't love on Gunsmoke.

You decided start making Vash wear chapstick anyways. Even if he demands you kiss him to put it on.



#Trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader

[ppangjae]

FIVE PLUS ONE | JAEHYUN

SYNOPSIS. Five times world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun tried to end your journey to be a chef  because you weren’t ‘qualified enough to be a chef’ and that one time you proved him wrong. 

—or: your villain story quite literally 

PAIRING. jaehyun x fem!reader

GENRE. fluff | angst | enemies to lovers!au | chef!jaehyun | aspiring chef!reader

WORD COUNT. 28.8k+ words (is this my new record? omg)

author's note. i posted a long time ago about how i must write a chef!jae fic and now, here she is. i'm so sorry for such a long wait (and all those postponements oop) but i'm glad that she's finally done and posted for you to enjoy reading! i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :-) also pls reading the author’s note at the end for all my thoughts about writing this fic! happy reading~

THE FIRST TIME.

The first time you and world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun crossed paths was when you were doing your culinary internship at Enoteca Pinchiorri in Florence, Italy. In fact, you had no idea who Jeong Jaehyun was. It was your second day of internship at the Michelin-starred restaurant and because you needed a bit more time to adjust to the new working environment, you worked as a waitress. You had no customer complaints about working as a waitress for the first week and had agreed it was the best way for you to get accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. While you had no idea who Jeong Jaehyun was at the time, he made sure you knew who exactly he was when you had accidentally stumbled over your two feet and spilled his glass of Barolo all over his cream-coloured button-up shirt.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, looking at him with extreme horror all over your face. Your knees were planted onto the red carpet floors, and you were too horrified and embarrassed to bring yourself back up onto your own two feet. You would rather be sucked into the red carpet floors and the pits of darkness, never to be seen again. Slowly looking up at him, he stares down at his stained shirt before meeting your gaze.

Your blood has never run cold until that very moment. He reads your name on your name tag with a piercing gaze before muttering. “Please get back up. You’re just creating a scene and humiliating yourself even more by gathering attention from other customers—”

“Oh, mi dispiace! Here’s a napkin, Mr. Jeong!” The executive chef, Alessandro, rushes over to the two of you with a large napkin. You’re not sure if you should be relieved to have Alessandro come in to save yourself from the embarrassment, especially with Mr. Jeong staring straight at you with eyes like shooting daggers. You’ve settled on standing behind Alessandro, feeling completely ashamed and embarrassed of yourself. 

“Is she new?” Mr. Jeong asks, burning two holes through your forehead with his dark brown eyes. With your head hanging low, you could only momentarily distract yourself by noticing that the heel of your two-inch black high heels has completely broken off. 

Great. You had just bought these high heels, and they've already broken. You’re left with no choice but to glue the broken heel back on. 

“Yes, she’s new. I apologize, Mr. Jeong. She’s still in training, and thus, she’s a little flustered," Alessandro explains. You don’t have the strength to look at any of them, but the damage has already been done. You’re no superhero with the power to turn back time and undo mistakes. Although, you wish you did have those superpowers at this very moment.

Your conscience forces you to do what you’re supposed to do. First, apologize. Second, make an offer to clean up the spill. Three, offer compensation after consulting Alessandro with ideas. Four, scan the tables around and apologize for the commotion. You learned this in culinary school. You draw in a deep breath, stepping towards Alessandro’s side and forcing yourself to look at Mr. Jeong.

That piercing gaze… that stone-cold face… You wonder who did him so dirty to be so cold-hearted. 

“I apologize, Mr. Jeong. The mess will be cleaned up and we’ll get you a new glass of Barolo. In compensation—” You begin until Alessandro decides to finish it for you.

“In compensation, your main course will be on the house. We deeply apologize, Mr. Jeong.” Alessandro bows and you take it as your cue to bow with him.

Mr. Jeong slowly nods his head. You can still feel his burning stare. Who is he? Why is he being acknowledged with such high regard? Mr. Jeong mumbles, “no worries, do you mind showing me where the washroom is?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeong. It’s right this way.” Alessandro takes over and leads Mr. Jeong to the washroom. As they’re walking away, Alessandro flashes you a look. It’s not a warning look. But with his gaze, you can tell that he’s telling you to head to the storage room to clean up the spill before Mr. Jeong comes back to his table. 

As you head to the storage room to grab hot towels, you bump into one of the other waitresses, Stella, who looks just as horrified as you are. Your legs almost give out at the sight of her. 

“Stella, do you mind taking over his table? I don’t think I can—”

“No, yeah, sure, I’ll take over that table for you. Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks with a face filled with concern. She bites her lip. “You do know who that man is, right?”

You slowly shake your head. “I have no idea who he is—”

“Oh mio dio!” Stella gasps in shock. “Bella, that is Mr. Jeong Jaehyun. Chef Jaehyun. He is a world-renowned chef. He owns five three-Michelin-starred restaurants in the world—”

“World… renowned… chef…” You trail off, growing more horrified by what you’ve done. 

“He’s won almost every cooking competition you could think of. He’s a legend. Both of his parents are culinary chefs too. His parents also teach at one of the most prestigious universities in South Korea for its culinary arts program. He started cooking when he was only ten years old—” She continues to hammer it into your head that the man you have spilled expensive wine all over is a living legend that cannot be messed with.

And you… have messed with him. 

Unknowingly.

“A legend… started at ten years old… won every competition…” 

You’re going to pass out. You feel faint. Your legs feel like jello. You’re surprised that you still haven’t been sucked into the red carpet floors. Maybe fate wanted you to experience this humiliation. Did you do something horribly wrong in your past life to deserve this? It’s only been the second day of your internship and you already want to go home. Hell, you haven’t even started cooking—which is why this culinary internship is for—and you already want to go home to your parents and cry your eyes out. 

“Yeah. He’s a big deal, Y/N. But don’t worry, I got you covered. I’ll take over his table. In the meantime, you stay here and get yourself together, alright?” Stella reassures you. 

You slowly nod your head, falling back against the stool. Stella grabs some towels and leaves you in the storage room all by yourself. Complete shock and embarrassment, you’ve really dug yourself a huge hole. After you’ve gathered yourself together, you head towards the door to look out the small round window that peeks into the restaurant. You could see Stella wiping up Mr. Jeong’s—or should you say Chef Jaehyun’s—table. When Chef Jaehyun returns, she greets him with a wide, pearly-white smile. He returns the same energy as her, almost mirroring her warm and bright aura. It’s a complete one-eighty from how he was with you. You can’t help but feel small. You can’t help but feel miserable.

Maybe you’re not fit to be working in a restaurant. Maybe you’re not fit to be working in a kitchen.

If you can’t even handle guests on the floor, what makes you think you could handle cooking meals in a kitchen? What makes you think you could even step foot in a kitchen? As a chef?

Maybe you’re just not fit to be a chef at all.

As you clock out of your shift, you kick off your high heels to replace them with a pair of running shoes. It’s almost midnight, and you’ve spent the closing hours cleaning up the dining area and the kitchen. It’s been hours since your encounter with Chef Jaehyun but it still feels fresh in your mind. You don’t think it’ll ever leave your mind for a while. 

You hear Stella call out your name as you put on your sweater. Looking over your shoulder, you spot her entering the room with a box in her hands. You quirk an eyebrow out of curiosity. 

“Hey, bella. This is for you.” 

She hands you the box, and you take off the cover to see a new pair of high heels. They look just like the ones you had on earlier, but it has a shiny finish. It’s an expensive brand as well. You place the cover back on, shaking your head and returning it to her. 

“Oh, no, Stella, I don’t think I can take this.” You hand back the heels to her.

She shakes her head. “Oh, no, bella, this is not from me. These heels are truly for you. I was just told to hand this over to you.”

“Oh…” You mumble softly. “Alright, then. Thanks, Stella. Thank you for having my back.”

“No worries, beautiful.” She smiles. “Now, forget about what happened today because tomorrow will be a new day! I don’t want to see your frown tomorrow morning when you clock in, alright? Promise?”

You chuckle. “I promise. By the way, do you know who gave the heels?”

She waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about who gave them.”

“What secrets are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding any secrets from you, beautiful. In fact, I have no idea who gave them. Alessandro just told me to give them to you.”

“I should probably thank Alessandro for these,” you mumble softly.

“Oh, no, these aren’t from Alessandro. He just told me that someone dropped by to give these heels to you and then he asked me to give them to you before you leave.” 

THE SECOND TIME.

You didn’t think Mr. World-Renowned Chef would come back, especially on the last day of your culinary internship. Ever since your full experience of a nightmare with Chef Jaehyun, you were quite surprised that the restaurant made you stay. You were expecting them to kick you out and let you find your way on your own. The first time you encountered Chef Jaehyun, you were a waitress. But this time… you’re a line cook.

And you’re cooking two dishes for him.

“Bella, is the filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento ready?” Alessandro asks when he pops into the kitchen.

Ever since Alessandro announced and acknowledged Chef Jaehyun’s presence in the restaurant, you’ve been a jittery, nervous mess. This is all because you want to prove Chef Jaehyun wrong. You want to see him sit in his chair and dig into the dishes you’ve made for him, appreciating every single second of your hard work and effort. There are many dishes in the hot sanitizing bath; most of them are yours because they haven’t turned out the way you want them to be. You’ve been assigned two dishes; the filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento and tiramisu. Two completely different dishes, one is the main course while the other is a dessert. 

“It’s ready.” You answer, placing the dish of filet mignon and gnocchi Sorrento over the counter for Stella to serve the intimidating chef sitting right outside of the door. In terms of what happens beyond that door leading to the dining area, you hope it’s everything but a repeated nightmare.

You take a step back and wait for Stella to return to the kitchen with Chef Jaehyun’s input on your dishes. A couple of minutes later, Stella returns to the kitchen with not a single trace of a smile spread across her lips. You wait in absolute terror. 

It’s almost as if you’re experiencing a real-life Kitchen Nightmares episode. But the chef tasting the food is not Gordon Ramsay (fortunately). It’s Jeong Jaehyun (unfortunately). 

“He doesn’t like it,” she mumbles softly. She draws in a deep breath, eyes finding yours. “He actually wants to have a word with the chef who made it.”

“Oh god,” you groan, rubbing at the temples of your head. You’re feeling a migraine beginning to throb every single angle of your head. It feels like your head is becoming a construction site, pulsing and pounding painfully every thirty seconds. “I’m going to pass out.”

When you step out of the kitchen, you nervously make your way toward Chef Jaehyun’s table. He’s sitting there, eyes shooting daggers right through your head. He definitely remembers you. There’s no doubt about it. There it is… the same piercing gaze he gave you the first time you encountered him. But that piercing gaze that he gives you is for a similar reason.

You messed up.

And he’s going to grill you for it.

You clear your throat and muster up a small smile as you reach his table. “Hi, Chef Jaehyun, I’m—”

“Y/N.” He cuts you off. You clamp your mouth shut. You were hoping he would be a bit nicer this time around. With the way he shuts you down, you’re starting to learn that you shouldn’t hope for better outcomes in your miserable situations. He tilts his head. “You’re the one who worked as a waitress for my table during my first visit. It’s quite surprising to see you in a chef’s apron. So… tell me, are you actually a culinary intern?”

You slowly nod your head. “Yes, chef.”

“Well, you have many things yet to learn. I’m surprised Enoteca Pinchiorri even considered taking you in as a culinary intern because the dish you had sent out to me is quite… disappointing.” One by one, his comments throw axes at your weak heart. “Take a good look at the gnocchi. Is this hand-made?”

“Yes, chef—”

“It’s rubbery. You’ve added too much flour.”

“I apologize, chef—”

“And I asked for a medium-rare for the filet mignon. It’s well-done.” He points at the filet mignon that he’s sliced with a fork and knife. You feel defeated yet again. You’re not sure if you would rather have the same person or a group of people criticize your cooking. “You should be grateful to be an intern here at this restaurant. This isn’t something you should be taking for granted. It’s not something that should be taken lightly. Other aspiring chefs desire to be in your shoes but don’t have the resources for it.”

“Again, I apologize, Chef Jaehyun.” You bow at him. “I’ll work harder.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your co-chefs. You are lacking in many skills, Y/N. Take this and my comments as a way to improve, or else you will never make it as a chef in this industry.”

That night, you barge into your bedroom with red, swollen eyes and a heavy heart. There must be a reason you keep fucking up in front of Chef Jaehyun. But you’re not sure if you’re courageous enough to be able to withstand such embarrassment. You want to go home. You want to stop your journey of becoming a chef. If the world’s most renowned chef thinks your cooking is horrible, how different would it be for a regular customer?

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your co-chefs. You are lacking in many skills, Y/N. Take this and my comments as a way to improve, or else you will never make it as a chef in this industry.”

You feel crushed.

Just like your dreams of becoming a chef.

THE THIRD TIME.

When you told your father that you would take a chance at MasterChef, he didn’t believe you until he saw you on his TV screen. Ever since you signed up to be a part of the competition, you’ve worked diligently to create the perfect dish to cook and present to the chefs. But when you stand behind the curtains that lead into the kitchen, you can’t help but grow afraid that all you’ve tried to remember and keep note of has completely vanished from your brain. You can’t afford to mess up.

You can’t afford to lose this chance, this opportunity.

It’s been years since your mother passed away due to cancer. She had run a diner, Mina’s Place. She named it after her. It was the only diner in the city that had good reviews. The reviews were a reflection of her passion for cooking. She loved cooking for others but mostly for herself. She had many skills. She perfected many dishes. The university nearby had a highly reputable culinary program, and the professors of that program had frequented the diner from time to time. They would always tell her that there was something special about the diner and that it was surely on its road to something even bigger. 

But before your mother had seen the highest success of her dream, her diner, she fell ill and was diagnosed with cancer. In a short time, her health deteriorated, and she eventually succumbed to her illness, leaving the diner and bringing all its light with her. 

If there was something you wanted to get out of this competition, it was a reputation. It was another chance to continue your mother’s dream. You know that this is something your mother would have wanted if she was still alive, to see her diner up until its end. But she was the one who let go first. Your dream is to bring back the diner, and you’re not sure how, but all you want is to fulfill her dream. 

Your mother’s dream has become yours. 

“Let’s welcome the next potential contestant, Chef Y/N. She’s interned at many restaurants in Florence and wants to open up a restaurant of her own someday.” The host introduces you as you wheel your cart into the kitchen. 

When you reach the workstation situated right in the middle of the room, you place your things down before looking up to introduce yourself to the judges. As you look up, the first person you meet eyes with is Chef Taeyong. Chef Taeyong is known for being the co-owner of a three-Michelin-starred restaurant in Florence. You’ve always wanted to become a culinary intern at his restaurant, but you always chickened out. Standing right next to him is Chef Doyoung, who nods his head at you. Chef Doyoung is known for being a world-renowned chef in the making. He was the winner of MasterChef four years ago and since then has opened a lot of successful restaurants, all of them with Michelin stars. And standing right next to Chef Doyoung is—Chef Jaehyun?!

When Jaehyun’s eyes land on you for the first time in years, his eyebrows raise with surprise. Seeing you for the third time cannot be a pure coincidence. He tries to compose himself and get himself together when you finally acknowledge his presence. From the corner of his eye, he could see Taeyong glance at him. His shoulders tense up, but he feels them slowly relax when you look away from him. 

“Plans to open up a restaurant, huh?” Chef Doyoung smiles and you bite your lip, nodding your head in reply. “You know, that was my plan when I started my journey here in MasterChef. My plan worked out in the end! That means you can fulfill whatever your heart desires, as long as you put your mind to it.”

“I truly believe that if you put your mind into something, it'll be easily attainable if you put in the work and effort.” Chef Taeyong agrees with his co-judge. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

You clear your throat. “I’m planning on baking up a dish that my mother used to make for me. Well, it’s a dessert among many desserts that my mom used to make for the family.”

“But will this dish be enough to give you a spot in MasterChef?” You almost choke on your spit when you hear his voice for the first time in years. Chef Jaehyun. His voice still sends shivers down your spine. As you slowly look up from the stove, you find him already looking back at you with the same piercing gaze that you never seemed to forget. 

You gather yourself together. You nod. You like to believe that you’ve learned to handle your nervousness and anxiousness. “More than enough, chef.”

“You seem to have a close relationship with your mother,” Chef Doyoung begins. While you’re conversing with the chefs, you’re preparing your dish. You start by dipping the truffles in melted chocolate. “Is she the one who inspired you to join MasterChef?”

You smile at the thought of your mother. You answer as you place each chocolate-covered pumpkin pecan truffle onto the plate. “Yes, chef. She’s very special to me. I just want to make her proud.”

“Well, what are you making us for today?” Chef Doyoung questions. You’re placing the spiced pumpkin roulade next to the truffles and adjusting them to make the dish look presentable overall. 

“I’ll serve you a spiced pumpkin roulade with pecan maple truffles. It’s something my mom used to make every Thanksgiving.” You answer. “It’s also my dad’s favourite dessert, and because it’s his favourite, my mom would make it for him every now and then. I would have to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night to get a bite because the whole thing would be gone the next day.”

Chef Taeyong chuckles. “Sounds sweet, spicy, and delicious. It also sounds like it brings warm memories. You have five minutes left, Y/N.”

Five minutes later, your dish is ready. You place it right in front of you at your station. Chef Taeyong is the first one to taste your dish. He heads over to you and picks up his spoon. He scoops a spoonful of everything in your dish underneath the warm spotlights that shine over your station. Pumpkin pecan truffles… spiced pumpkin roulade…

“Do you mind walking me through this dish?” Chef Taeyong asks. 

“What you have on this side are the truffles… the pumpkin pecan truffles, to be exact. It’s glazed with maple syrup.” You explain before pointing to the sliced pumpkin roulade on the other side of the dish. “And on the other side of the dish is a spiced pumpkin roulade.”

“You seem nervous,” he says softly. 

You let out a shaky laugh. “I am indeed quite nervous, chef.”

“How bad do you want this, Y/N?” He asks. 

“So bad.” You answer simply. “You don’t even know how bad I want this.”

“Let’s see if this dish is enough to earn you a spot in the competition.” He tastes your dish.

You study and observe him as he tastes the hints of pumpkin and pecan, all punched deep with some spice. You fiddle with your fingers nervously. It’s a bad habit of yours. If there’s one thing that you wanted to get out of this audition, it was at least one yes. One yes is enough for you to be satisfied. But oh, how you want this so badly. 

“Wow.” He tilts his head with surprise. It’s almost as if he’s caught off guard. “It’s delicious.”

“R-Really?” You blurt out before shaking your head. “I mean—thank you. Thank you, chef, that means so much to me.”

“It tastes amazing.” He smiles before heading back to his seat. 

You’re starting off strong. You like what’s happening. Two more chefs and your fate will be determined. You hope fate is on your side this time. You know you deserve a break from all of your horrible chances with luck and fate. You deserve this. You’ve worked so hard for it. It would be a huge disappointment if you didn’t earn a spot in the competition. 

Next up is Chef Doyoung, who grabs his spoon and digs into your dish without uttering a single word. Once he’s finished tasting your dish, he folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Y/N, are you satisfied with how your dish turned out today?”

“More than satisfied, chef.” You mumble softly, but there’s a hint of a lack of confidence in your voice. You’re sure the chefs could pick up your low self-esteem. Chef Doyoung purses his lips into a tight line.

“Are you a perfectionist?” He asks. 

“I try to be, chef.” You answer.

“Well, perfectionism is one of the best qualities to have as a chef.” He adds. He clasps his hands together and sucks in a deep breath. “I taste a light hint of lemon, but I am immediately kicked with the spices. I could taste the hint of cloves that burst right through the hints of lemon. I think you have a great sense of flavours. You have a great sense of spices. This dish has the perfect balance of sweet, spicy, and savoury.”

“Thank you, chef.” You smile, not sure how to contain your happiness. 

“Well done,” he complements you before heading back to his seat. 

Last is Chef Jaehyun, who walks up to your station. Your smile immediately vanishes from your face and is replaced with horror. You’re especially nervous around him. With all the horrible encounters you’ve had with him, you wish he had a poor memory because you wouldn’t want someone like him to remember you. You’re looking everywhere but him. 

“I’m not a fan of sweets and desserts.” He says flat out. You wince. “That should be more than enough to make you nervous.”

“I hope that with this dish, you’ll start to appreciate desserts more, chef.” You mumble softly. It’s just barely above a whisper. You sound like a guilty child admitting fault after being caught lying. But you’re not lying, not at all. You’re just nervous. 

“is this dish going to change my mind? Is this dish going to be enough to change my mind about desserts?” He continues to grill you, and you let your head hang low.

“I just… want to impress you, chef.” More like prove you wrong. 

“I hope this dish doesn’t disappoint me.” His low voice sends shivers down your spine. He takes a spoonful of the cake and the truffle before shoving them into his mouth. 

It feels like it’s just the two of you at that very moment. It doesn’t feel like Chef Taeyong and Chef Doyoung are there. Your entire body feels tense just standing within his line of sight. He folds his arms and looks down at your dish. “It’s good. But it’s not good enough. There’s something that’s lacking in this dish. Do you know what that is?”

“What is it, chef?” You ask. 

“The presentation.” He answers. “Look at how you presented this dish to us. It does not look MasterChef-worthy. The presentation of this dish, I might say, is predictable. The presentation of a dish that you make is something you must pay attention to because if it doesn’t visibly look good, your customers would assume that it doesn’t taste good.”

“I understand, chef.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Chef Jaehyun definitely remembers you. Why? Because he loves nitpicking every single lacking detail of your cooking. He truly never changed. He’s still the same cold-hearted, selfish, rude prick. 

The three chefs discuss their decision. You continue to fiddle nervously with your fingers to calm yourself down, to distract you from what’s about to come. You’re so sure that you’re not going to get a spot in the competition, and it’s all going to be because of Chef Jae—

“Y/N?”

“Yes, chef?” You blurt out with surprised, caught off guard eyes. 

“It’s a yes for me,” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

“It’s a no for me,” Chef Jaehyun says. “Simply because you’re lacking in presenting your dishes. I think that is very crucial to becoming a chef. I was not impressed with your dish simply because I’m not a fan of desserts. I was hoping you would change my mind, but I guess it just fell short.”

“I understand, chef. I agree that I could’ve paid more attention to the plating.” You nod your head in agreement. For the first time, you agree with Chef Jaehyun. 

“Now, that leaves the pressure on me.” Chef Doyoung smirks. “If I say no, you won’t have a spot in the competition. But if I say yes, you will advance in the competition, and you will have your own MasterChef apron.”

“You won’t regret giving me a chance, chef. I want this so bad.”

Tension continues to fill the air. Chef Doyoung’s touch gaze softens, and you feel your tense posture relax. He clasps his hands together before saying, “it’s a yes for me. Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Please come up and take your MasterChef apron.” Chef Taeyong gestures for you to come up to the front. 

“Oh my gosh,” you sigh with relief. “I promise I’ll do my best, chef. Thank you so much for taking a huge risk on me.”

As you near the three chef judges, you stand in front of Chef Taeyong, who helps you put your apron on. You smile, taking his hand that he extends out to you to shake. Moving onto Chef Doyoung, you shake his hand, thanking him many times for giving you a chance. Last but not least, your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun. You’ve never been up close to Chef Jaehyun like this. He’s quite handsome, you think to yourself, but it’s also a shame that he’s such a rude, cold-hearted person. He extends his hand out to you for you to shake. When your hands interlock, you can’t help but notice how warm and soft his hands are. The both of you exchange such intense looks. You’re the first one to break away, pulling back your hand. 

“Long time no see. Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Chef Jaehyun.”

THE FOURTH TIME.

On a quest to become MasterChef, you are expected to learn how to work with a team of chefs. The round that awaits you is a team challenge, where you and a couple of other contestants will work together to cook up a full course meal. The team challenge usually occurs after the first mystery box challenge and elimination round. Sitting at the front of the kitchen is a box filled with two different coloured aprons, red and blue. These aprons will split everyone into two teams based on their apron colour. From the corner of your eye, you can see your station mate, Taeil, gawking at the box at the front. 

He turns towards you and whispers, “I hope we’re on the same team.”

You flash him a small smile. “I hope so too.”

Ever since the competition began, you have learned how to become a competitive chef. You’ve also learned how to make connections and new friendships. It’s what you have learned to value the most, especially working in an industry that relies heavily on networking and connections. Two rounds into the competition, you became friends with Taeil simply because he cooked up his dishes right next to you, and, over time, he also looked out for you and helped you with your dishes. He’s completely different from you. You’d like to think that he’s the complete opposite. But somehow, you both work in tune with each other. You wouldn’t have asked for a better station mate. Both of your different personalities shined the most in your cooked dishes. 

“Y/N, please step up to the front and pick your apron for the team challenge.” Chef Jaehyun calls out to you, and your heart beats out of your chest. You share a look with Taeil. 

As you make it to the front of the kitchen, you stick your hand into the black box to pull out a red apron. You avoid eye contact with Chef Jaehyun like you always do, but you could still feel his burning gaze. You always feel insecure and nervous around him. How embarrassing it must seem to him. 

“Taeil, your turn has arrived. Come up and pick your apron.” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

You wish Chef Jaehyun was like Chef Taeyong. Nice… sweet… genuine. He genuinely wanted every contestant to be successful, whether it be in their dishes or their confidence. You wish Chef Jaehyun would forget about all the horrible encounters you’ve had with him. You wish Chef Jaehyun would break out of his shell and turn his cold personality into a personality similar to his co-chef.

When Taeil arrives at the front and sticks his hand into the box, he pulls out not a red apron but… a blue one. The both of you share looks, and a pout can’t help but form across your lips. Chef Jaehyun notices your slight pout, and you immediately let it drop from your face. Taeil returns to his station, and you begin to overthink. Who are you going to work with? You’ve only become acquaintances with the rest of the contestants. Taeil is the only contestant you’ve become close to and the only contestant you consider a good friend. He’s the only contestant you see having a friendship with even after the competition ends. 

After all the contestants have been called up to choose their team, the chef judges have you gather together. You and Taeil wave goodbye as you both part to your own assigned teams, you with the red team and him with the blue team. As you walk over to your team, you can’t help but notice how you’re the only woman. Your teammates are Junhwa, Jay, Mason, and Euntae.

“Today’s challenge will be quite different because you’re all expected to work together as a team with your teammates.” Chef Doyoung announces. “For today’s team challenge, we will be headed to the beach to cater for a wedding.”

Your head shoots up. You’re doomed. You know that your team is done for even before the team challenge begins. Junhwa was just saved from the elimination test the other day because he had messed up his dish for the mystery box challenge. Jay hasn’t been up to par with his dishes and has yet to cook up his best dish in the competition. Like Junhwa, Mason had messed up his dish for the mystery box challenge but was saved from the elimination test by Chef Doyoung. Euntae, however, is the only one on the team that’s been performing well in the competition. But as for you… you’re not sure where you stand in this competition. 

“Let’s all head to the location and we’ll explain more about the team challenge.”

It’s the perfect day to have a wedding on the beach. The wind currents aren’t strong, but they bring a light warm breeze. The wedding takes place on a weekday which explains the small number of people hanging out at the beach. When you all arrive at the beach, the first thing you spot is two different cooking stations, differentiated by your respective team colours. You draw in a deep breath. This is going to be a long day. 

“Everyone, please gather around as we begin today’s challenge.”

Everyone gathers around the three young world-renowned chefs following the producer's command. You can see Chef Jaehyun staring right at you from the corner of your eye. He’s drilling two holes through the side of your head. It’s almost as if he’s praying and manifesting for you to mess up in the team challenge. You wouldn’t be surprised if you mess up and his prayers and manifestations were served right to him on a golden platter because his intensity and strive for perfection always cause you to do so. 

“Today, you will be cooking up a three-course meal for wedding guests at the beach. The couple that will be wedded later on today has laid out their menu and their expectations.” Chef Doyoung explains. 

You have learned one thing so far; never have a team of aspiring chefs competing in competition be in charge of cooking and serving your guests’ food. Why? Because there’s huge room for failure. Food poisoning? Traumatizing. Undercooked food? Horrifying. You wouldn’t imagine getting married and having scared chefs-in-the-making cater to your guests at the reception. To you, it sounded like a nightmare waiting to unfold right before your two eyes. And here you are now, living out that nightmare in disguise. 

“The menu consists of cranberry and brie bites for the appetizer, roasted pork loin on wild mushroom risotto for the main course, and a spiced carrot cake for the dessert.” Chef Taeyong reads off the menu that the wedding couple has put together for their guests. 

You hold in a sigh of relief. You think you could handle doing the appetizer and dessert. Baking is your expertise. It’s something your mother loved doing the most. Baking up a dessert can be daunting and taxing, but once you’ve mastered the basics, everything you pop into the oven will come out beautifully. You’ve spent most of your childhood sitting in the kitchen helping her make the desserts. You’ve spent most of your childhood sitting in the kitchen and breathing in the aroma of sweet desserts. 

You just hope that your team leader assigns you the appetizer or dessert. If not… you’re not sure how you’re going to put up a good performance. Will you be eliminated? Is this going to put you at risk for elimination? 

“Have you all picked a team leader?” Chef Jaehyun asks. 

On the blue team, Taeil raises his hand. You smile. Taeil is quite the introvert, but you know that he’ll be able to bring his team together and make the most out of it. On your team, Euntae raises his hand. It was predetermined that he would be the team leader mainly because he’s the only one who’s been doing well in the competition. 

“Taeil for team red and Euntae for team blue.” Chef Jaehyun notes it down on his notepad. “Alright. Let’s have you go over to your stations to start prepping for the service.”

“You will have one hour and thirty minutes to complete your three-course meal.” Chef Doyoung announces. 

“Please use your time wisely because regardless of whether your dishes are done, they will be served to the guests.” Chef Taeyong warns you. Everyone falls silent. “Your two goals are one, to make sure that there is food on the table for every single guest and two, that the food you serve has been cooked to perfection.” 

“Yes, chef.” Everyone says in unison.

“Alright. Get ready because your time starts in three…”

“Two…”

“One…”

“Go!”

Thankfully, you’ve been assigned to work on the spiced carrot cake. Euntae and Jay will work on the roasted pork loin on wild mushroom risotto. Euntae will work specifically on the roasted pork loin, and Jay will work specifically on the wild mushroom risotto. Mason and Junhwa will work together on the cranberry and brie bites. It’s been about twenty minutes since the timer started, and you’re almost done mixing the batter for the cake. You’ve added carrot bits and slices in the cake batter to make the carrot stand out when someone takes a slice out of it. You’re also planning on making a cream cheese frosting to drizzle on top of the cake. 

“Y/N, make sure you don’t go off track with the cake, alright? I know you’re excited, but we don’t have much time left.” Euntae commands, and you nod your head.

Euntae is such a perfectionist. It’s been obvious since the start of the competition. He’s been winning almost every challenge. If he wasn’t the winner of the challenge, he would most likely be second. Carrying your team must be difficult for him because most of his teammates have been performing poorly. 

“Yes, I’ll work faster.” 

“And make sure you follow the demo recipe.” He adds. “I don’t want you making something completely different from what we’re asked to do.”

You like to think of your dishes as an experiment. Most of the time, you depend heavily on your sense of taste and extensive knowledge of spices. Thus, this results in you neglecting recipe books and instructions. You like experimenting in your cooking because there’s a thrill when something turns out delicious. There’s a sense of excitement and surprise when two unlikely ingredients somehow pair well with each other. 

Euntae probably notices your experimental way of approaching your dishes. He doesn’t want you to fuck everything up. You can’t blame him for playing it safe. You would do the same thing. 

“This look different to you?” You ask, pointing to your cake batter.

He dips his fingers into the batter and tastes it. “Put more clove. I don’t taste the kick. I thought spices were your thing?”

You purse your lips into a tight line. He looks taken aback by your confused gaze. If there was one thing you wish you could change about yourself, it’s how you are easily readable through your facial expressions. Your emotions are easy to detect because they’re spread across your entire face. Knitted or raised eyebrows, jutted chin, pouty lips, you’re very expressive with your emotions. 

“It is. I did put in clove. Is it not enough?” You dip your finger into the batter to taste it yourself. Indeed, you taste the kick. Your gut tells you not to add any more of the spices because it will be too spicy for the guests if you add more. “I don’t think we should add more. I think it’s enough—”

“I don’t taste the spices, Y/N—”

“Well, I do—”

“But I’m the team leader, right?” He reminds you. You clamp your mouth shut. Where is all of this coming from? How could he talk to you like this? You could feel your gaze hardening at him. “Do you want me to save you a spot in the competition? You do, right? So follow what I tell you to do, and everything will be fine.”

You squint your eyes at him before shaking your head. “No way. I’m not letting you sabotage my cake.”

“And I am not letting you bring the entire team down. We cannot afford to lose.” Jay butts in as he shoves you aside to place a pan on the stove. You almost stumble back, and you’re on the verge of tears. 

“Ugh, this is ridiculous.” You mutter to yourself, grabbing your bowl of cake batter and moving to a different table in your station to work. You’re standing alone as the rest of your team gathers together to talk about how they will prepare the dishes. You feel left out. You feel like an outcast. You wish you were on Taeil’s team. 

You feel like this is planned. 

You feel like they’re planning to sabotage you. 

“Y/N?” Chef Doyoung calls out to you. 

You look over your shoulder to see him waving you over. You dust your hands off before heading up to him. You don’t know that Euntae walks over to your bowl of cake batter and puts in a couple of more teaspoons of clove and cinnamon behind your back. He adds a bit more than what is required. Chef Doyoung folds his arms at you. 

“Yes, chef?” You mumble. 

“Why aren’t you being included in your team?” He asks. He noticed, and that’s all that matters to you. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I’m not quite sure, chef. We have different opinions on how we should make the spiced carrot cake. Euntae thinks there’s not enough spice, while I think there’s more than enough.

“Trust your gut. But you should also keep in mind that this is a team challenge. You’re all supposed to work together as a team.” He reminds you. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thank you, chef.”

Suddenly, Chef Jaehyun yells out. “Your spiced carrot cakes should be in the oven right now or will be undercooked!”

Upon returning to your station, you grab your bowl of cake batter to pour it into a baking pan. Hurriedly, you place it into the preheated oven. You do not want to mess this up. You can’t mess this up. If your team fails the challenge, you are at risk of being eliminated. 

You can’t afford to lose the competition. 

You can’t go home. 

You’re not surprised that the cranberry and brie bites were almost burnt out of the oven. You’re not surprised that your two teammates were running behind on time with the roasted pork loin and wild mushroom risotto. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if your team were unable to put out your dishes on time. 

When you pull out the tray of cranberry and brie bites, you place them on the table. One by one, you place the burnt ones aside and the good ones on the serving trays. Standing behind you, Mason and Junhwa continue to panic, not even bothering to help you save their dish that they’ve been assigned to do. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” You feel yourself stiffen. Chef Jaehyun stands next to you and looks at the burnt and unburnt cranberry and brie bites. He clicks his tongue and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Were you the one assigned to do the bites?”

You shake your head. “No, chef.”

“Who was assigned for the cranberry and brie bites?” He asks your teammates. 

“Us, chef.” Mason answers. 

Chef Jaehyun points at you while looking at Mason. “And why is Y/N taking over your task?”

“Because she likes getting into everyone’s business—” You hear Euntae mutter underneath his breath. You’ve confirmed it: Euntae is plotting your elimination. He hates you. 

“She said she would help us salvage some of the cranberry and brie bites for the guests. She’s picking it out for us while we make another batch.” Junhwa explains. 

“And you’re both just standing there and watching her?” Chef Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows with anger. “Where’s your team leader?”

“Here, chef.” Euntae walks over. 

“Where is the direction, Euntae?” Chef Jaehyun frowns. You could see steam coming out of Chef Jaehyun’s nostrils. “Your teammates are lost. They’re panicking, and you’re just standing in front of your pan doing your own thing. You’re in your own little world, Euntae. It’s time to wake up.”

“Excuse me, I have to take out the carrot cake.” You mumble softly as you excuse yourself to head to the oven. You take a quick peek before putting on your oven mittens to take the cake pans out. 

It comes out beautifully. They’ve baked and risen to perfection. You can smell the strong aroma of spices. Hidden within the sponge cake are the grated bites of carrot, giving it a beautiful orange colour. From your periphery, you see Chef Jaehyun walking over to you. You hold in your breath. 

“Can I have a taste of the cake?” He asks. 

You slowly nodded your head. “Yes, chef.”

Chef Jaehyun digs into the cake with a small teaspoon while your teammates gather around to watch. He winces, and you wish you could disappear. You’ve noticed that he always winces and grimaces with disappointment whenever you mess up. It’s like you could tell what’s about to come before it even happens. 

“You were in charge of the cake, right, Y/N?” 

“Yes, chef.” You mumble. 

Clatter. He tosses the teaspoon onto the table and frustratingly runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t serve that. It’s too spicy. You’ve put too much clove and cinnamon.”

You look at him confusedly. Completely flabbergasted, you take a bite from the cake yourself and indeed, it’s too spicy. It’s overpowering the sweetness of the carrot and sugar. But wait—you never added any more clove or cinnamon. 

“You can’t serve this. This entire team is set up for failure. You cannot save yourselves from this challenge. Take off your aprons. You don’t have any more time to send out any dishes. You’ve completely failed the team challenge.”

You glance at Euntae, who avoids your gaze. He turns around and walks back to his pork loin and mushroom risotto pan. He tosses the pans into the sink out of frustration and anger. 

Euntae sabotaged you.

At the end of the team challenge, you and your teammates find yourselves standing in front of the three disappointed chefs. You’re too ashamed of yourself to look at them. You distract yourself by fiddling with your fingers. You were thinking of all the ‘what if’s’. What if you were on the blue team? What if you paid more attention to your teammates that were plotting your failure? What if you worked harder? What if—

“As you are all aware of what happened today, your team lost the challenge. This only means that not one, not two, but four of you will be eliminated from the competition.” Chef Doyoung says. 

“But first, we are going to tell you what you did wrong and where you all went wrong.” Chef Taeyong frowns, “as a team.”

“The first thing that went wrong were the cranberry and brie bites. They were overcooked to the point that they were burnt. You had only realized that they were burnt when you took them out of the oven too late, leaving you no time to make another batch.” Chef Doyoung explains. 

“We are aware of that, chef.” Mason and Junhwa speak in unison. 

“The second thing that went wrong was the spiced carrot cake. I was surprised that Y/N put too much clove and cinnamon into the batter. From your audition, Y/N, you had a good sense of the spices, so I figured this task wouldn’t be difficult to do.” Chef Taeyong outlines the second mistake of the team. 

“The third thing that went wrong had completely gone over our heads.” Chef Jaehyun begins. “We were wondering why out of all the dishes you were assigned, the roasted pork loin and mushroom risotto turned out fine.”

“It was because we—” Euntae begins.

“It was because you wanted to sabotage your own teammates. Am I right, Euntae?” Chef Jaehyun catches him red-handed. “Don’t try to lie to us. Don’t you dare try to lie to me because I saw it myself.”

“I did not sabotage any of my teammates—”

“Y/N, you know why your spiced carrot cake was too spicy?” Chef Jaehyun asks you. 

You courageously look into his eyes. “Why, chef?”

“Because your own teammate, Euntae, sabotaged your cake and added three tablespoons more of clove and cinnamon, which is way more than what we asked for in our demo.” Chef Jaehyun reveals. “I saw it happen right before my eyes. Euntae, if you were going to sabotage your teammate, you should’ve made sure that none of us chef judges would see it.”

“Chef, I—Y/N has always been doing her own thing in the competition, and I didn’t want her to sabotage our team by doing things the way she wants to,” Euntae explains. 

“You’re supposed to work together as a team.” Chef Taeyong shakes his head in disbelief. “Did you plan this all out so that Y/N would be eliminated from the competition? Don’t lie to us because I overheard you planning this out with the rest of your teammates.”

“I—”

“Okay. That’s enough.” Chef Doyoung raises up his hand to shut him up. “We have made up our minds on who will be leaving the competition.”

“The first contestant that will be saying goodbye is…”

You clench your eyes shut as you wait for your name to be called out. You hate everything that’s happening right now. You’ve never been so careless. Now, you pay the consequences. 

“Jay. Please say goodbye to your teammates.”

You feel your heart drop. 

“The second contestant that will be saying goodbye is…”

Your heartbeat begins to pick up its pace once again. Once your name is called out, you’re going to have to pack your things and head back home. 

“Junhwa. Please say goodbye to your teammates.”

You hold in your breath. 

“That leaves Y/N, Euntae, and Mason.”

You close your eyes again, praying that your name wouldn’t be called out. You’re already thinking about what you would say to your father if you’re eliminated from the competition. 

“Y/N, please say goodbye to your teammates…”

Your eyes flutter open. This is it. You’re officially eliminated from the competition. You shake hands with your two teammates who have completely sabotaged you. You’re keeping yourself together. You’re holding yourself back from bursting out into anger. 

“Because you will advance to the next round of the competition. Euntae and Mason, you are both eliminated from MasterChef, please take off your aprons.” 

Your heart stops. Wait.

“Wait, what?” You look at the chefs in shock.

“Y/N, you are the only one that will stay in the competition.” Chef Taeyong smiles. 

“It was a tough decision.” Chef Doyoung adds. 

“But we do not tolerate cheaters in this competition. You are innocent and had no bad intentions, Y/N, which is why you are safe from elimination.” Chef Jaehyun confirms everything for you. “But that does not mean you are safe from the remainder of the competition. What this means is that we will all be putting more pressure on you to be the best chef you say you are.”

“I will do my best, chef. I am confident that I will win MasterChef.” 

Chef Jaehyun purses his lips into a tight line. 

You feel your blood run cold. 

“Don’t make us regret choosing to save you from elimination.”

THE FIFTH TIME.

“Don’t make us regret choosing to save you from elimination.”

The pressure is all on you. Chef Jaehyun’s voice echoes throughout your head the entire hour that you’re granted to create a dish. In this round, all of the contestants are given a mystery box filled with random ingredients. In your mystery box, you were given beetroot, beef tenderloin, and blackberries. They are three completely different ingredients that you’re not quite sure will mesh well together. 

Five minutes before the timer started, you decided to make beef tenderloin with roasted beetroot, all covered by a blackberry sauce. And now here you are, thirty minutes in, and you just hope that your dish turns out well. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Chef Jaehyun.” You mumble softly, checking up on your beef tenderloin to see if it’s being cooked correctly on the skillet pan. You’re hoping to cook the tenderloin medium-rare to keep the monochrome colour of your dish. 

“What are you making for us today?” He asks. 

He’s distracting you. Whether it’s intentional or not, it’s breaking your focus. You clear your throat as you answer, “beef tenderloin with beetroot, all covered by a blackberry sauce.”

“Are you sure this is going to work out well? It seems quite… difficult to pull off.” He grabs a spoon and digs into the blackberry sauce that you have boiling in a saucepan. He tastes it and steps back, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought. “Interesting. You’re truly making this difficult for us, huh?”

What is he trying to say? You bite your lip, pretending to ignore him. “It should work out well. It is a mystery box challenge, after all. I’ve been given three ingredients that you never truly see together in a dish, but here we are.”

“The blackberry sauce is perfect. But regarding whether this blackberry sauce will complement your beef tenderloin and beetroot… you’ll have to prove that to us.” He gently places his spoon into your sink and moves on to the next contestant.

“You have fifteen minutes left! In about five minutes, you should all be plating your food!”

You turn off the stove to cool down your blackberry sauce. With fifteen minutes left, you need at least five minutes to let the beef tenderloin rest. You’re still not sure if it’s cooked medium-rare. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. You take the skillet pan off of the stove and transfer the beef tenderloin onto a wire rack for it to rest. As for your beetroot, you take each slice out to begin plating them.

“I’m not going to lie, that looks incredible, Y/N.” Taeil compliments you. You almost jump in surprise. You’ve been so focused on making sure you do well in this challenge that you forgot about Taeil. As you glance at him, he lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry for scaring you. I’ll shut up now.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I just hope it’s edible.” You crack a joke to ease your nervousness. He snorts.

“I’m sure it’s edible. You’ve made it this far, Y/N. You should give yourself more credit for your hard work.” He reassures you.

One minute left on the timer, and you’re placing the beef tenderloin right in between two slices of beetroot. To complete your dish, you drizzle blackberry sauce all over the dish. To amplify your dish even further, you take a couple of blackberries and scatter them across your dish. Overall, your dish is a dark magenta colour. Monochromatic. 

“Five…”

“Four…”

“Three… Two…”

“One! Time’s up!”

“Y/N, please bring up your dish.”

With shaky hands, you grab your plate and head up to the front. You place your dish down onto the table that stands right in front of the chef judges. Each one of them looks surprised to see what you have presented to them. Chef Doyoung is the first one to take a bite. He steps forward and grabs a knife and fork, slicing himself a bit of beetroot before poking at the beef tenderloin.

“How did you cook the beef tenderloin?” He asks.

You bite your lip. “I was hoping to cook it medium-rare. But I didn’t have enough time to let it rest, so I’m not quite sure if it turned out that way.”

“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?” He insists. You slowly nod your head. Standing behind him, you can see Chef Jaehyun standing on his tiptoes to get a look at the tenderloin. As Chef Doyoung slices through the tenderloin and you sigh with relief. “It’s perfect. You doubt yourself a bit too much, Y/N. The tenderloin is indeed medium-rare.”

“Thank goodness.” You let out another sigh of relief.

He takes a bite. As he chews, you study him and wait for his reaction. When he finishes eating, he clasps his hands together and breaks out into a smile. “I think it’s quite delicious. I would definitely serve something like this in my restaurant.”

“Really? Oh wow… thank you, chef.” You beam.

“Blackberries, beef tenderloin, and beetroot. These three ingredients seem hard to cook together, but you balance them beautifully. The plating is amazing. You’ve improved your plating skills since the start of the competition. Overall, this dish is my favourite.” He places his cutlery down and flashes you one last smile. He heads back to stand next to Chef Taeyong, who’s the next one to step forward and taste your dish.

“First off, the dish looks lovely. I love the monochrome theme you have going on here. It amplifies your dish. But as for the taste, we shall find out.” Chef Taeyong takes a bite of the beetroot and tenderloin, making sure he dips it in the blackberry sauce. He tilts his head and lets out a chuckle. “That’s… amazing. You truly have a great sense of your spices. I wouldn’t even have thought of making a dish like this with these three ingredients. Well done, Y/N. You continue to perform well in this competition. I also see Chef Doyoung serving something like this at his restaurant.”

“Thank you, chef.” You hold in a happy sigh.

Next up is Chef Jaehyun, who barely waits for Chef Taeyong to step aside for him. He quirks an eyebrow at you before digging into your dish. “After we spoke earlier, I wondered how you could pull off a sour blackberry sauce with savoury beef tenderloin and beetroot. They are two unlikely tastes that should not be paired together.”

“It is a mystery box, so I just tried to work with what I was given. I hope it tastes good for you, Chef Jaehyun.” You avoid his eyes. But you could see him trying to look into them.

He takes a bite. He chews and swallows. He places his cutlery down and purses his lips into a tight line. “I’m going to be quite honest. I don’t like it. The sour blackberry sauce completely overpowers the savoury tenderloin and beetroot. However, I could definitely see why others may like it. This dish is catered for people with a specific palette. I’m not one of those people. The plating looks beautiful, however.”

“Thank you, chef.” You whisper.

“As I’ve said time and time again,” he says sternly, “you are making this extremely difficult for us, Y/N. You need to step up to the plate. I know you can do it. You have the tools and the talents to do it. You just need to use them.”

As he turns his back to you, you can feel your eyes well up with tears. Throughout this entire competition, you’ve learned that you not only want to win it, but you want to prove Chef Jaehyun wrong. He’s ignited a fire within you, a burning passion. His brutal honesty truly gets the best of you. 

If you can’t prove him wrong, what’s the point of continuing your journey?

He’s a world-renowned chef. He knows what tastes good and what doesn’t. He knows whether a chef will be successful in the field. He knows everything about the cooking and food industry. If he thinks you’re not fit enough, then maybe you’re truly not fit to be a chef.

You’ve already tried to step up to the plate, but he thinks it’s not enough.

You’ve already used all of your tools and talents, but he thinks it’s not enough.

You’re not enough.

What is considered enough?

He looks over his shoulder, and you hear him mutter.

“We saved you from elimination. You must prove to us that saving you was the best decision. You must prove to us that you are more worthy of winning than your teammates that were eliminated. Remember that.”

A tear almost slips from your eye.

You give up.

THE ONE TIME YOU PROVE HIM WRONG.

“I have come to the decision to withdraw from the competition.”

“If that’s your decision, then so be it. We regret seeing you go. Thank you for showing us your talent. You may go and pack your things because your journey at MasterChef ends here.”

Upon entering the huge kitchen, you head towards the light switches to turn on the spotlight for your workstation. The kitchen has never been so quiet nor has it been so peaceful. You feel your feet being glued to the ground, almost as if they’re keeping you from leaving. When you were a kid, you loved ditching your homework to spend time with your mother in the kitchen. You would even take a stool from the dining room to place it right next to her to have a full view of how she cooked your meals. Your home kitchen was your safe haven, your safe space, where you could truly be yourself. It was what brought you closer to your mother. It was what reminded you of your mother. 

But you had no choice. You force yourself, trudging your way towards your station to pack up all of your utensils. From cooking knives to ladles, you packed them away in a moving box. From your favorite fine China dishes to your custom-made chopsticks, you admired them one last time underneath the spotlight before tucking them away. You turn on the sink to dampen your towel. You wipe down your station one last time before wringing the towel out. Letting out a sigh, you wipe the beads of sweat that are forming on your forehead. This is it. Your journey at MasterChef ends here—

“What on earth are you doing?”

Looking up from your counter, you spot Jaehyun walking along the front of the space. He’s the last person you want to see. He’s the last person you want to talk to, especially right now. He has his hands tucked into his pockets as he makes his way towards you.

“I’m packing up my things.” You answer simply with a blank face.

“Why are you packing up your things? The competition isn’t over yet.” He finally makes it to your counter. Underneath the spotlight, he notices how bloodshot red your eyes are. You’ve cried all night over this competition and it brought you to your decision of withdrawing.

“The competition isn’t over yet for my fellow contestants,” you begin, “but the competition is over for me.”

“I’m not sure if I understand what you’re saying—”

“I’ve withdrawn from the competition.” You make it make sense for him. Jaehyun takes a couple of seconds for your words to sink in. Once he’s processes your words, his eyebrows furrow in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” He blurts out. “W-Why?”

You grow confused. That’s his reaction? “Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m leaving the competition? It’s one less thing to worry about, right? Your decision in choosing chefs to advance to the next round won’t be hard anymore because I’m leaving. Everything will be better without me—”

“Why would I be happy over a contestant’s voluntary withdrawal from the competition?” He cuts you off. 

You fall silent. Suddenly, you have no energy trying to defend yourself. With everything piling up, you’ve decided to give up. Everything that has happened to you in the past has led you to this moment. From spilling wine all over Jaehyun’s drink to messing up Jaehyun’s dish at your internship in Florence to your time here at MasterChef, it has brought you to the conclusion that maybe Jaehyun was right: you’re not fit or qualified enough to be a chef. 

“In a competition, you should not associate your emotions with your overall performance. Whatever you create here in the kitchen is what we judge.” He says sternly with his hands placed on top of the marble of your countertop. “You and I are both aware that this is a competition. You are aware that your performance and the dishes you create are going to be commented on by judges. But as judges, we make those comments, good or bad, are to help you improve.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like comments to me. I don’t feel like you’re helping me improve. I feel stuck with no direction given. I just feel like you have this predisposed idea of who I am after all those negative encounters we’ve had in the past which is why you treat me like this.” You finally get it off of your chest. You feel extremely vulnerable in front of Jaehyun. All of your emotions that you’ve held in for so long are beginning to hit the surface. “And this is why I’ve decided to do everyone all a favor and withdraw.”

He pushes himself off of the countertop and holds in a sigh. You let your head hang low. His eyes land on the cardboard box sitting on the floor. It’s filled with all of your cooking utensils. He sees an old washed out apron sitting right on top of all the pans and dishes. Stitched right near the upper corner of the apron is a name. It’s not your name, but your mother’s name. The apron has been through a lot. It’s been through  a lot of washes. It’s been through a lot of spills. But you have never once thought of throwing it out because it was the only thing you had left of your mother. Aside from all the memories you have of and with her, of course. 

“Well, withdrawing from the competition means that you’re aware that you have no confidence in yourself.” 

“I hope you’re hearing yourself right now.” You mutter softly.

“Do you really think you’re not fit to be a chef?” He questions. 

“Well, you sure make me feel like it—” You scoff. 

“Cook me your best dish, then. If I think it’s horrible, then maybe withdrawing is the best decision.”

“I thought you’ve already made it clear that I’m not fit or qualified enough to be a chef—”

“You have sixty minutes.”

“Chef—”

“Your time starts now.”

Before you could protest, Jaehyun turns his back towards you and walks away. You’re trying so hard not to burst out into flames. The urgency to flip him off makes your blood boil. As he takes his seat at the front behind the judges’ table, you bend down to finish packing up your things. Jaehyun seems to pick up that you’re not taking up the challenge. 

“You claim that I was discouraging you this entire competition. You said that you have potential. You want to prove me wrong, right?”

You stop in your tracks. You sure do. You want to prove Jaehyun wrong so badly. With a burning passion. When he sees that you’ve stopped, he knows that he’s slowly changing your mind. 

“This is your chance to prove me wrong. Prove to me that you deserve to stay in this competition.”

You will yourself back up, fiery eyes meeting him. He knows that he’s turned the gears in your head. After you’ve given it much thought, you decided that if you were going to withdraw from the competition, you might as well show him what kind of aspiring chef they’re going to regret letting go of. You guess it was a pride thing. But you’ve never wanted to prove Jeong Jaehyun wrong so badly until now.

Jaehyun stares at you as you walk away from your station and into the large pantry with all the fresh ingredients. A smirk slowly begins to spread across his lips. You’re grabbing many ingredients from the pantry. There are some questionable pairs but ever since the start of the competition, you’ve always been experimental with your dishes. Surprisingly, they always turn out delicious no matter how ambiguous the ingredients are relative to each other. You finally return to your workstation to begin cooking your dish.

“Fifty-five minutes left,” he yells out to you.

You slightly jump. It’s just the two of you in the kitchen. If you were quite honest, it felt a bit intimate. But you felt a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Here you are, cooking for a world-renowned chef, after voluntarily withdrawing from a competition that he judges for. Here you are, cooking for a world-renowned chef who asked you to cook him a dish to prove him wrong. 

A deconstructed pie. That is what you have in mind.

There are two ingredients that you’ve never paired together before; grapefruit and basil. You’re planning on making a deconstructed raspberry and basil pie. The pie will consist of basil jelly and grapefruit curd, topping it all off with Italian meringue. 

“What are you making?” Jaehyun asks when he walks up to your station.

“A pie.”

“In an hour?” Jaehyun questions. You slowly nod your head, trying to keep yourself focused on your work. “Pies usually take more than one hour to make.”

“It’s going to be a deconstructed pie. Grapefruit and basil. Instead of using the crust, I’ll be using graham cracker crumbles.” You explain while juicing your grapefruits. 

“Grapefruit and basil? Don’t you think that those two together would be a bit… risky?” 

You shake your head. “Basil goes well with lots of fruits. I wouldn’t be surprised if basil went well with grapefruit.”

“I’ve tried a grapefruit and basil pie once. I don’t remember where, but it was delicious. I have high expectations for this. Yours will be the second grapefruit and basil pie that I have ever had in my entire life.” He comments. What a way to put the pressure on you. You don’t say anything. “Alright, then I guess—”

“You’re distracting me.” You cut him off. “Do you mind going back to the front and sitting there while I continue doing whatever it is that I need to do?”

“Sassy,” he grins. “Fine. I’ll be up at the front. You have forty-five minutes left.”

Forty-five minutes left to prove yourself. At this point, you’re not trying to prove you are worthy of staying in the competition. You’re trying to prove that you are nothing what Jaehyun thinks of you. You’re trying to prove Jaehyun that you are fit and qualified enough to be a chef and that this is made for you. It is something you love doing. It is your passion.

Jaehyun plops his butt down onto his seat and watches you cook up your dish. You’re making grapefruit zest while making sure the grapefruit curd isn’t being overcooked. He finds himself staring at you with awe. 

When Jaehyun met you for the first time, he didn’t like you. You ruined his shirt. His favorite shirt. But another reason why he didn’t like you was because you didn’t look confident enough. When Jaehyun met you for the first time, you were hiding behind the executive chef, too humiliated by your own actions. He saw right through you at that moment. You had an inferiority complex. You were not confident enough in yourself. You were shy. You always doubted yourself. But when his eyes met yours, he saw a fire ignite within them. 

When Jaehyun met you for the second time, you weren’t a waitress. You were a line cook. A culinary intern. You ruined his dish. When Jaehyun met you for the second time, he still didn’t like you. It was because after all the months that have passed by, you still don’t look confident enough in yourself. It made him uneasy. But the only difference that time around is that although he still didn’t like you, he knew that eventually, he would, because he saw potential. Leaving the restaurant that day after tasting your subpar dish made him uneasy, knowing that he could’ve done something to lift your spirits up. He knew that he had to do something to make you learn how to be confident in your cooking because that was the first step to making perfect dishes. If you were confident to cook, your dishes would reflect it. When Jaehyun met you for the second time, he realized that he didn’t like you because you reminded him of himself.

When Jaehyun met you for the third time, you were taking a chance at MasterChef. It was a year since the last time he saw you. On your first and second encounters with Jaehyun, the both of you were in Florence. But the third time, the both of you are in Seoul. It almost seemed fated. When Jaehyun boarded the plane in Florence going back to Seoul, he couldn’t get you off his mind. What if he tried to lift you up? What was it that he could’ve done to encourage you? He regretted being cold to you. He knew that if he had just been a bit nicer, a bit more sincere, it would’ve further ignited the flame that was already lit within you. It was like the heavens had heard him and sent you to him for a third time. 

He knew this was his third and final chance to make things right.

“Twenty minutes!” He yells.

“I heard you loud and clear, geez.” You place a hand over your heart as you continue your work. 

You’re working on your Italian meringue. It was something you learned how to do while you were doing your culinary internship in Florence. Making Italian meringue is completely different from making regular meringue. It requires more precision and accuracy. It requires more attention to detail. If you mess up the meringue, you’re practically messing up the entire dish. 

You don’t want that happening. That’s the last thing you want.

While you’re waiting for the sugar water to boil at an ideal temperature, you’re beginning to plate your dish. Gently and slowly, you place a layer of grapefruit curd at the bottom of the bowl. It acts almost like a bed for the basil jelly and Italian meringue. At perfect timing, the sugar water has reached its ideal temperature and you immediately take it off of the stove. You walk over to your stand mixer, turning it on and gradually pouring in the sugar mixture into the egg whites. The egg whites slowly turn into a beautiful meringue. Sweet. Fluffy. Almost like marshmallows. Once you’ve poured the entire sugar mixture, you continue to mix the meringue until the bottom of the bowl runs cold to the touch. 

“Fifteen minutes!” 

Jaehyun waits for you to say something but nothing comes out. He checks up on you and realizes you’re too focused on placing the meringue into a piping bag. He never knew how pretty someone could look under the harsh light of the stage kitchen. The brightness only highlighted your features that were solely focused on creating the perfect deconstructed pie. 

This was a first for Jaehyun—being mesmerized by a contestant under his wing. And as his heart caught on fire, much like the gas stove he used to use when he learned to cook all those years ago, Jaehyun also hoped it would be the last.

Having the chance to see you again is definitely a chance given by fate. The idea that you could be gone from the competition out of your own will absolutely terrifies him. It’s the last thing he wants. He wants you to realize how much talent you have. He wants you to realize that you have a lot of potential. He wants to be close to you. He wants to get to know you more. He’s only been able to do that through your dishes. Lately, it’s been hard to look directly into your eyes because it makes him grow nervous. While you’re the only contestant that’s around his age, he’s never felt more connected to someone until he met you. You most likely feel the complete opposite of him, but this is because he has the tendency to push people away. He pushes you away because he’s scared that once he screws up this chance to make things right, he might not forgive himself. It’ll be all his fault.

“Ten minutes!”

You’re piping the Italian meringue onto the bed of grapefruit curd. After that, you’re slicing up the basil jelly into small cubes. You place the basil jelly cubes on top of the grapefruit curd along the Italian meringue. Lastly, you’re grabbing a handful of graham crumbles and scattering them carefully on top of the Italian meringue, basil jelly cubes, and the grapefruit curd. Your deconstructed pie is almost done. You rummage through the drawers to find a torch. You light the torch on to slightly toast the Italian meringue. You don’t want it to burn, you want a nice toast on the top. 

“Five minutes!”

You fix up your dish one last time with roughly four minutes to spare. You slowly head up to the front of the kitchen with your deconstructed pie. Jaehyun meets your gaze and he smiles. Oh, how you wish you could wipe that smile off of his face. Placing the dish right in front of him, you step back for him to taste it.

“Do you mind going through how you prepared this dish?” Jaehyun asks as he opens one of the drawers to pull out a spoon.

You clear your throat. “It is a deconstructed grapefruit and basil pie. It consists of grapefruit curd as a bed layer with basil jelly, graham crumbles, and Italian meringue.”

“Why did you choose to make Italian meringue instead of the usual meringue?” He asks.

“I chose to use Italian meringue for this dish because Italian meringue has a more marshmallowy, soft, fluffy consistency in comparison to ordinary meringue.” You explain. “I think the soft, fluffy texture of Italian meringue fits perfectly with the creamy grapefruit curd and basil jelly.”

“I’m going to take a spoonful of everything.” Jaehyun begins as he scoops a little bit of grapefruit curd mixed with graham crumbles, a single basil jelly, and a single Italian meringue. The both of you meet eyes and he puts the spoon into his mouth. 

As he’s taking a moment to savor the flavors, you let your head hang low. You’re expecting him to let out a frustrated sigh. You’re expecting him to come up with the rudest comment on your dish. It’s horrible. It tastes horrible. You’re waiting for those words to come out of his mouth—

“It’s… delicious.” 

Your head shoots up. He digs in for another spoonful of your deconstructed pie. “Sorry… what?”

“I said,” he says, “it’s delicious.”

You let out a breathless laugh. Were you hearing things right? Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow at you and you straighten up your posture. “Sorry, I just—this is the first time I’ve ever heard something nice coming from you.”

“It not only tastes delicious but it tastes familiar.” He mumbles softly. “It reminds me of this diner my parents used to take me to after basketball practice. The diner was somewhere near Yonsei University where my parents used to teach. That diner served grapefruit and basil pie. I think I was about twelve or thirteen years old. It’s been a while since I’ve had it but I could still remember it so vividly—”

“Mina’s Place?” You whisper.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows raise with surprise and his face is overcome with realization. Mina’s Place. The reason why he hasn’t been to the diner in a while is because it closed down when he made a visit. It was a sudden shutdown and his family never knew what happened to the owners. They were unique and both of his parents’ favorite place to wind down after a day of teaching culinary students. That diner’s grapefruit and basil pie had inspired him to follow the footsteps of his parents. It was the unusual pairing of basil and fruit that made him curious, it was what drove him to start cooking. 

“Yeah… Mina’s Place.” He mumbles softly. “It’s too bad it closed down too soon.”

Your head hangs low again. Mina’s Place was your mother’s product of hardwork and dedication. Your late mother had bought the space and created it into a diner where she was able to cook up whatever she wanted for her guests. It was what made her happy. But when your mother started to grow sick, it was your father that took over the diner in hopes that she would return. But your mother’s health continued to deteriorate until she passed away at an early age of forty-seven. Ever since her passing, the diner wasn’t the same. Your father had decided to sell the diner to a young couple who were looking to start their own restaurant. 

Your mother’s best-selling item on the menu was the grapefruit and basil pie. Until this day, you are grateful that she managed to pass the recipe down to you. You had loved and admired your mother’s love for cooking. You would spend most of your days watching her cook. You would ditch everything to learn how to cook, especially from your mother. The deconstructed pie that you had made for Jaehyun is a representation of how much you miss her and how much she inspired you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Jaehyun looks at you confusedly. “Thank you for cherishing my mother’s passion, for cherishing her love of cooking. She would be thrilled to know that there was someone who loved her grapefruit and basil pie.”

“Y-You’re joking,” he shakes his head. “She’s your mother?”

You purse your lips into a tight line, nodding. “We closed down the place because she died of cancer. It didn’t make sense to take on the diner after her passing. My father had no idea how to cook.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry—”

“I decided to study culinary arts because it’s the only thing that reminds me of her. It’s the only thing that brings me closer to her. I also wanted to open up a diner in her honor, to celebrate her life. I think that’s what she truly wanted… to spend most of her life with her family and at the diner.” You chuckle, wiping away a tear that slides down your cheek. “And don’t apologize. You had no idea.”

“But still, I—”

“I’ve decided to stick with my decision regardless of whether you enjoyed my dish or not. I’m going to withdraw from the competition.” You clasp your hands together. 

Jaehyun watches you as you carefully take off your apron. You place the apron right next to your dish before bowing to him. “Y/N, no—”

“Thank you for everything, chef. It was an honor cooking for you and I’m glad you enjoyed the pie.”

“Y/N, no, please. Stay here with—” Me. That’s what he wants to say. It almost terrifies him that this is the first thing that crosses his mind. It catches him off guard. He’s never had the urge to let you stay. He’s never been afraid of losing you. He’s never been terrified of slowly realizing your importance and your effect on him. “The other contestants. You’re worthy of the chance. Just like them.”

“I’ve already told the producers—”

“We can always take it back. You can always take it back.” He cuts you off. “Don’t withdraw. You have so many more things to accomplish, to conquer, to show off. You have talent, Y/N. Withdrawing from the competition will be the biggest mistake of your life—”

“Please don’t say all of that if you don’t even mean it—”

“I mean it. Stay.” He’s so close to begging. “Your mother was one of the few driving forces that led me to becoming a chef. If it weren’t for your mother, I probably wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now.”

“You’re lying,” you shake your head in disbelief. “You’re just making this hard for me.”

“Stay for your mother. I’m sure she would want you to finish the competition regardless of whether you win or not—”

“But you wanted me gone since the first round—” Never. He never wanted you to leave. He wanted you to stay. He wanted to help you. He wanted to encourage you to work hard for your dreams. 

“Do it for her. Do it for Mina’s Place.”

You fall silent. For a moment, you could hear your mother’s voice chanting you on. You could hear her giggles and laughter. You could see her bright smile. It makes your eyes glassy. Your eyes trail down towards the pie that you made. As you fixate on the pie, you wipe away a few more tears.

“Yes, chef. I’ll stay.”

“How did you change her mind?”

Taeyong stands next to Jaehyun and watches you as you return your things back into their respective drawers at your station. Taeyong, along with Doyoung, had expected your station to be empty the following morning. But there you were, absolutely present, setting up your station before the next round of the competition begins. Jaehyun shoves his hands into his pockets and watches you intently, not being able to tear his gaze away from you.

“Let’s just say I worked my magic,” he answers softly. 

Doyoung glances at his co-judge, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. He follows Jaehyun’s line of sight and it lands on you. Taeyong seems to pick it up as well and a cheeky grin spreads across his lips. Taeyong has worked with Jaehyun for many years. They opened up one three-Michelin starred restaurant in Florence together and they ran the restaurant for many years. From Jaehyun’s inner thoughts to his feelings, Taeyong knows him so well. In fact, Taeyong hasn’t seen Jaehyun like this in so long. 

Work has been the main priority for Jaehyun. Taeyong was always trying to get his best friend to loosen up and meet some people while they were in Italy. But Jaehyun was always closed up and always stayed back in the kitchen. It was sad for Taeyong to see his best friend have a lack of social life—moreover, a dating life. Jaehyun’s last relationship was a couple of years ago and it ended on horrible terms. In particular, his breakup happened right before he boarded his flight to Italy. Taeyong knows that it left such a negative impact on his best friend. Jaehyun had promised to never fall in love again after his breakup, devoting his entire life to cooking and being in the kitchen… never leaving it once. 

But seeing how Jaehyun looks at you, Taeyong is starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Alright, chefs! We’ll be starting in ten minutes! Relax, grab a drink, and we’ll regroup.” Doyoung announces. 

You suck in a deep breath, heading towards the water dispenser to get yourself a cup of water. Taeil follows behind you, grabbing himself a cup of water too. He tilts his head in confusion, analyzing your every move. You seem to notice and when the two of you finally make it up to the balcony that oversees the entire kitchen, you face him.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask.

Taeil shakes his head. “No! No, not at all. I was just—I thought you said you were going to withdraw from the competition.”

You take a swig of your water. “I did. But… I changed my mind. I decided to stay.”

“What changed your mind?” Taeil questions. Everyone’s beginning to gather at the balcony before the new round of the competition begins. 

Before you could even answer Taeil’s question, Chef Jaehyun stands in the space between you two. He leans over the railing of the balcony. You and Taeil share a look. You clear your throat, adding a bit more distance between you and Chef Jaehyun. Taeil studies your body language and it’s almost as if he reads your mind. Ah, Chef Jaehyun changed your mind. 

“Ah, I see.” Taeil slowly nods his head. “Well, good luck, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do well in the next round.”

Taeil leaves you and Chef Jaehyun alone to talk with other contestants. You’re looking everywhere but at Chef Jaehyun, busying yourself by the water in your cup. 

Jaehyun can’t comprehend what’s going on with him. He can’t find the courage to look at you. But when he does, he can’t seem to breathe because his heartbeat picks up its pace. He clears his throat. “Are you ready for the next round?”

You finally look at him. You straighten up your posture. “Yes, chef.”

“Y/N, no, please. Stay here with—the other contestants. You’re worthy of the chance. Just like them.”

“Don’t withdraw. You have so many more things to accomplish, to conquer, to show off. You have talent, Y/N. Withdrawing from the competition will be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I mean it. Stay. Your mother was one of the few driving forces that led me to becoming a chef. If it weren’t for your mother, I probably wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now.”

It’s hard to get rid of Chef Jaehyun’s voice out of your head. Whatever happened a couple of nights ago in the kitchen felt a bit too intimate. You were cooking one of your best dishes, a dish that meant a lot to you, for one of the most famous chefs in the world. It was just the two of you in the kitchen. Chef Jaehyun had begged you to stay in the competition. All of those events that night were driving you crazy.

What Chef Jaehyun does next snaps you out of your thoughts. He places his hand on your head and ruffles your hair. Your eyes slightly widen and you freeze. “Good luck.”

When he leaves to speak with the other contestants, you’re left all alone by the balcony with a heart beating so fast. You almost drop your cup of water but you catch yourself just in time. You place a hand over your heart as if it’ll help it stop beating so fast.

There’s been a shift between you and Chef Jaehyun ever since that night. 

You’ve always despised Chef Jaehyun. You didn’t even like him to begin with. Not one single bit. 

But now… you’re not quite sure anymore. 

“There are only two more rounds left in the competition. But this round determines who has a chance to be the next MasterChef. Who will make it to the final round of MasterChef? We shall find out! For today’s challenge, the three of you will be paired up with one of us to cook up a special meal for your own friends.”

There are three contestants left in the competition. Those contestants are you, Taeil, and Seokjin. Each one of you is called up to the front to pick a slip of paper from a box. The chef that’s on your chosen slip of paper will be the chef that you will be paired up to cook with. Whoever you end up with wouldn’t matter because the three of them are perfect in their own way.

Chef Jaehyun is a perfectionist. He’s also competitive. He loves making sure that the food he puts out is more than perfect. It gives him relief and satisfaction knowing that his customers love the food that he makes for them. He’s surely known all over the world for being overly meticulous. He’s also known for running many successful restaurants. He has strong ties with restaurants in Florence. Being paired up with Chef Jaehyun means that you are guaranteed to make a successful dish.

Chef Taeyong is also a perfectionist but not as competitive as Chef Jaehyun. He always makes sure that he thoroughly enjoys the process of cooking. He’s almost like a mother. He cooks for people because he genuinely enjoys doing it. It’s a hobby that he enjoys doing and somehow, it brings him fortune and success. Being paired up with Chef Taeyong means that you’ll not only make a perfect dish, but you’ll also have fun making it and create a story along with it.

Chef Doyoung is not a perfectionist, but he has a great sense of his ingredients. He knows the compatibility of ingredients, which is something every chef wants to have. It’s a trait that is rare to find in chefs. This trait had led him to win MasterChef when he was a contestant. To others, his dishes might be ambiguous but once people try it, they would have never imagined such a dish to work out. Being paired up with Chef Doyoung means that you are willing to take risks that will elevate your dish and bring out uniqueness. 

When you open your slip of paper, you almost let out a laugh.

Chef Jaehyun.

Fate loves playing games with you. 

“I got Chef Jaehyun,” you hold up your slip of paper. You and Taeil exchange looks. 

When your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun’s, he bites back a smile that’s threatening to spread across his lips. The two other chefs can’t seem to hold back their smiles either. You look down, growing too shy with all of the attention on you.

“I got Chef Taeyong.” Taeil shows his slip of paper.

“And that means I got Chef Doyoung.” Seokjin finishes, holding up his slip of paper.

“Perfect. We’ll start in five minutes. During these five minutes, we will all discuss with our partners and plan out our dishes accordingly.” Chef Taeyong announces.

When Chef Jaehyun heads over to your workstation, you can’t seem to compose yourself. Your mind is going insane. You’re not sure if you’re going to end up regretting having Chef Jaehyun as your partner or be grateful that he could help you secure a spot in the finals. 

“I’m surprised you’re not sick and tired of me yet,” he mumbles. “It’s just always gonna be you and me, huh?”

“I’m surprised you’re not sick and tired of me yet either,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“I guess fate likes the two of us together.” He says, avoiding your gaze.

“I’m sure fate hates me and is punishing me by pairing me up with you.” You mutter underneath your breath. 

“I heard that.”

“You were supposed to.”

Working together with Chef Jaehyun is a pain in the ass. 

“The sashimi should be cut like this!” 

“Yeah, I know! I can see it!” 

It’s been non-stop bickering for the past fifteen minutes. There’s forty-five minutes left before you have to send out your dishes to your friends. With the grin planted across Chef Jaehyun’s lips, you’re not sure if he’s doing this for fun or if he’s genuinely being strict and serious. 

“You’re in the way.” You nudge him aside to grab the bottle of Japanese mayonnaise. “Do you mind checking on my rolls?”

“They look good—”

“You didn’t even look at them!” You look at him as if he had ten heads.

“I don’t need to look at them to know if they look good or not.” He rolls his California rolls. “You need to be more confident in yourself. Do you think they look good?”

“Of course, because I made them.” You fold your arms.

“Then they look good! You have to trust yourself, Y/N.” He slices through the California roll before rolling each of them into Panko. “I feel like you don’t trust yourself enough.”

Chef Jaehyun’s right. You don’t trust yourself enough. When he notices how silent you’ve gotten, he finally takes a look at your California rolls. He analyzes the contents of your roll before smiling. “It looks perfect to me. You see, I didn’t need to look at them to tell you that they’re good. You put the right amount of crab meat. There’s a balance between the crab meat and rice. The roll is consistent. The rice is sticky enough. It’s perfect, Y/N, stop doubting yourself.”

“Really…?”

“Really. Now, get back to work because we don’t have much time left.”

As the two of you both get back to work, Jaehyun can’t seem to stop himself from smiling. If there was one thing he wanted to do with someone special to him, it was to make a meal together. He learns more about someone through the art of cooking. You’re an expert at baking and inherited those skills from your mother. You know your spices so well that they come to you so naturally. You know how to balance your ingredients. You know when two ingredients work and when it doesn’t. 

You’re the complete opposite of him. Jaehyun is an expert at everything but baking. He doesn’t have a great sense of spices and would often plan out his dishes carefully. Making a perfect dish doesn’t come naturally to him. He’s more on the practical side of cooking. Jaehyun thinks you’re the perfect match for him. Whether it be in the kitchen or as someone he’d like to pursue… he’s not sure. 

It would be a huge lie if Jaehyun wasn’t attracted to you. He doesn’t know when the switch happened. Maybe he liked you from the start. 

It’s almost as if fate had you written in his stars. When Jaehyun had been dumped by his ex-girlfriend right before he boarded his plane to Florence, he was devastated. He was devastated knowing that his ex-girlfriend whom he was planning on proposing to was cheating on him that entire time. He was devastated knowing that he lost one of his few passions; the love of his life. Heartbroken. Closed off. Focus on working. Focus on hustle culture. Never falling in love again. That was Jaehyun’s mindset.

But now that he thinks about it and all the encounters you’ve had with him, meeting you for the first time in Florence must be a fateful encounter. From spilling expensive wine all over his shirt to serving him a horrible dish as a culinary intern, no matter how embarrassing those experiences were, it must be fate. You make him worry about you. You make him think about you a bit too often. He goes out of his way to make sure nothing horrible happens to you. He doesn’t want you to be hurt.

Meeting you may be a special event that has happened in his life.

“Chef? Chef…?”

He snaps out of his thoughts. You’re giving him a funny look.

“You were saying?”

“You have some seaweed on your face, chef.”

“I-I do? Where—”

Before he could even wipe his face with his hands, you’re already reaching up to rub off the seaweed crumbs off of his face. He freezes in his spot. His eyes look down to meet yours. When you finally brush the seaweed crumbs off of his crimson red cheeks, your eyes shift to his. It’s your turn to freeze. Out of instinct, Jaehyun gently holds your arms. He holds you so carefully… almost cautiously. Somehow, he can’t speak. Somehow, everything that surrounds the two of you becomes nothing but white noise. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips. 

“You have fifteen minutes left! Fifteen minutes!”

You both are startled, repelling from each other. To calm your unsteady heart, you focus on finishing your last few sushi rolls before you begin plating them. Jaehyun stands more than a meter away from you, not making any sort of conversation with you for the remainder of the fifteen minutes. His heart is beating so fast that he’s afraid you could hear it ramming out of his chest.

It’s all starting to make sense. To him, at least.

He’s slowly—but surely—falling in love with you.

The morning of the final round of MasterChef, you wake up still in disbelief that you’re one step closer to becoming the champion. In the semi-finals, your great teamwork with Chef Jaehyun has secured you a spot in the finals, giving you a bigger chance of winning the entire competition. There’s no backing down for you. The possibility that your dreams can come true is still surreal for you and now you’re willing to put in all the effort to make sure that possibility becomes reality. 

As soon as you enter the kitchen, you spot none other than Taeil, who’s already setting up his station. You and Taeil both find it funny how although you’re both closest to each other and have become good friends in the competition, here you both are, competing against each other to become the champion of MasterChef. It’s a friendly competition. You can’t imagine finishing the entire competition with anyone else.

“Hello, chef.” You greet him.

“Good morning, Y/N. Today is the day.” He smiles. “Good luck. Let the MasterChef win.”

Everyone begins to gather around. Your friends and family and Taeil’s friends and family. The three chef judges make their ways to the front after getting their hair and makeup done. The kitchen is set up differently this time around. Instead of the normal rectangular work stations, the station is set up as a circle that surrounds both you and Taeil. The two of you will work on opposite sides of the circle.

As you and Taeil get settled and wait for filming to start, your eyes catch Chef Jaehyun’s. You’re almost surprised and a bit taken aback to catch him already looking at you. He’s dressed up quite nice today. He’s wearing an indigo suit with his hair styled back. He has such prominent eyebrows, you notice, since he’s always had his hair down. He’s… handsome. 

And he smiles at you.

Not knowing what to do in return, you flash him a small, timid smile before looking away. In just a few minutes, the final round will begin and your fate will be determined. You spot your father who’s wiping away tears with his handkerchief. Sitting in his arms is a framed picture of your mother. Your eyes slowly tear up but you blink them away. 

“We will start in three… two… one… action!”

“Welcome everyone, to the final round of MasterChef.”

“Today, we will find out who is this season’s MasterChef.”

“Will it be Taeil? Or Y/N? We shall find out!”

For the final round of MasterChef, you and Taeil will be cooking up three dishes for the chef judges. The first dish will be the appetizer. Following the first dish is the entree. The third and final dish is the dessert. You and Taeil were given a week to figure out what you’re going to serve the chef judges. You have decided to base your dishes around the theme of apples. All three of your dishes contain apples.

The first round of three begins and you’re cooking up your first dish. For your first dish, you’re creating a scotch quail egg that will rest on top of a bed of parsnips and potatoes. You envision this dish to replicate a bird’s nest, where the bed of parsnips and potatoes act as the nest that protects the scotch quail egg. The scotch quail egg is different, however, because you will incorporate apples into the coating that surrounds it. 

“Your time starts now!”

You and Taeil busy yourselves at your own sides of the circle. You’re beginning your dish by boiling a pot of water for your quail eggs. At the same time, you’re bringing out the ground pork and a couple of red gala apples. As you’re cutting the gala apples, you make sure to cut them into cubes to make them stand out in the scotch egg. From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun step off of the stage to head towards you.

“Hello, Y/N.” He greets you as he approaches your side of the station. “What are you making for us?”

“A scotch quail egg,” you mumble.

“With apples?” You hum in reply. “And what are you going to do with the potatoes?”

“I’m going to slice them up to replicate a nest for the quail eggs to rest on.” You answer.

“That seems like a bit of an easy dish, don’t you think?” He purses his lips into a tight line. “Do you think it’ll be enough to impress us?”

“Yes,” you mumble, trying your best not to let him distract you. 

“Are you sure your quail eggs are going to be cooked properly? They shouldn’t be—”

“Overcooked, yes, I am very much aware of that, Chef Jaehyun.” You cut him off.

He chuckles. Your ears perk up. “It seems like you don’t want me around. Am I distracting you?”

“Yes,” you answer and everyone around you laughs. “I guess you’ll just have to see what I have planned for you when I serve it to you later.”

“Sounds good. I’m excited to see what you bring to the table, Y/N.” He searches for your eyes, but they’re busy looking at other things. In reality, you’re just too shy to look at him. “Good luck, Y/N.”

“Thanks, chef.”

Returning to your station, you keep the judges’ comments on your appetizer in your thoughts to improve on the next dish. The next dish that you’re going to cook up for them is the entree. Because your appetizer was easy to make, this left you ample time to begin preparing for your entree. You plan to serve the chef judges an entree dish that you call, rabbit two ways, in which you will serve them two different kinds of rabbit meat while incorporating bursts of apple flavors into it. The timer starts and you and Taeil get to work.

“I like how you presented this dish. It looks like a bird’s nest!”

Chef Taeyong’s comments on your dish had given you the motivation and desire to win the competition. From the start of the competition all the way to the final round, Chef Taeyong has been nothing but encouraging and genuine. All of his comments and advice shaped you into who you are as a chef today, at this very moment. 

“Although there are some burnt potatoes and parsnips in my dish, I think that it surprisingly complemented the sweet flavors of the apple in the scotch egg.”

Chef Doyoung, a MasterChef champion, is someone you always looked up to. You remember watching the season that he was competing in and having a gut feeling that he would make it to the final round. There was something special about Chef Doyoung and his dishes. Every dish he created had its own story, and of course, it would always look and taste delicious. Hearing his comments throughout your journey in the competition has also helped you learn and create a chef’s mindset. 

“I think I would definitely serve something like this as an appetizer at one of my restaurants. The presentation is spot on. I couldn’t have imagined a scotch egg to be presented in any other way. It’s almost as if you’re recreating nature, mother nature I would say, through your dishes. The flavors balance so well, which is not surprising because you’ve always had a good sense of your spices. Very well done, Y/N.”

Chef Jaehyun, although you disliked him at first, has truly been the one who wanted to see you succeed. Ever since he had tried to change your mind about withdrawing from the competition you couldn’t help but think that he was the one who truly liked you and your performance in the competition all along. If he didn’t try to change your mind, you would have probably withdrawn from the competition and returned back to the starting position of your journey. Chef Jaehyun has made you realize that if you truly want something, you have to work extremely hard for it. He made you realize that you’re better than what you think and most of the time, you’re just being hard on yourself. Someday, you plan on thanking him for being tough on you because it helped you on your journey to becoming a chef.

As you heat up the pan on the stove, you slice and dice up your apples to fuse them with the rabbit meat. Placing them onto the pan, you begin creating your artichoke puree that will amplify the flavors of the dish. From time to time, you could check up on the rabbit meat to make sure that you weren’t overcooking it. Overcooking rabbit meat would be horrifying because it would only mean that you would have to cook a new batch in so little time. It is extremely crucial to your dish. 

“You have fifteen minutes left!”

You spent the remaining fifteen minutes focusing on the rabbit meat since you have finished making the artichoke puree. After already beginning to plate your dish with the puree, you place the rabbit meat onto a frying rack to drain out the oil. Your hands are shaking out of complete nervousness. You want this so bad. But the fact that you’re serving a dish that you haven’t even tasted is such a huge risk to take. 

“Five minutes left!”

Drizzling a bit more of the artichoke puree on top of the rabbit meat, your nervous hands cause you to drizzle a bit more than needed. Pulling out a clean towel, you wipe off some of the puree that scattered on the sides of the dish. Glancing up at the time, you have one minute left to spare. You take these last few seconds to make sure everything looks good before handing them over to the servers.

“Time’s up! Hands up! Servers, please head to the back to serve the dishes.”

The last and final dish you are going to serve the chef judges is dessert. Dessert is your expertise. Everyone is aware that if there was one thing you excelled at as a chef, it would be through your desserts. You would like to thank your mother for exposing you to the world of baking at such a young age. It truly helped you later on in life, especially in this competition. For this dish, you decided to create a dish that represented a fallen apple or an apple that has fallen from an apple tree. The dish is simply an apple panna cotta, but you will be presenting it in such a way that it looks like an apple that has fallen onto the ground. This dish is going to tie up your ‘apple’ series and hopefully help you win the competition.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m back.” Chef Jaehyun smiles as he visits you at your station once again.

You smile back at him. “Hi, Chef Jaehyun. Is there anything I could help you with?”

“You could help me by letting me know what you’re planning on serving us for dessert.” He grins. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” you mumble softly. 

“Mysterious.” He nods his head as he begins to move on to Taeil’s station. “You’re going to surprise us?”

“Yes, chef.” You reply.

“Well, I hope it’ll be worth the surprise! Good luck, Y/N.”

“Thanks, chef!”

For your dish, you’re not planning on serving them a whole apple. You’re going to recreate the apple by making apple jelly. The apple jelly will be shaped like an apple by pouring the mixture into a silicone tray. Since an apple has seeds in the middle, you are going to toast up some pine nut seeds and place them into the middle of the jelly mixture once it’s set. To recreate the red color of an apple, you are going to place a red glaze all over the jelly. Since this dish is going to replicate a fallen apple, you are going to recreate soil by grinding up a mixture of nuts and raisins. This will act as the bed for the fallen apple. Lastly, you are going to recreate the leaves of the apple tree by using sugar and water, and the twigs of the branches with a sweet dough.

“You have twenty minutes left!”

You pull out your silicone trays and you nearly have a heart attack. The jelly is not completely set but you don’t have much time left to keep it in the fridge. You still have to plate the entire dish. Taking the toasted pine nut seeds off the stove, you place them onto a tray to cool down. One by one, you shove pine nut seeds into the apple jelly. The seeds keep popping back up, which confirms that your apple jelly still isn’t set properly. But with the time you have left, you have to take this risk. 

“Ten minutes left!”

You begin plating your dish. To plate your apple-themed dessert, you grab the bowl of fake soil that you created with an assortment of nuts and raisins and scoop out two spoons to create a bed for the fallen apple. After you do that on three plates, you carefully pop out the apple jelly from the silicone tray and place it on top of the soil. Then, to decorate the apple jelly, you stick your fake twigs into the jelly and place sugar leaves on top. As you grab the pot of red glaze, you stop in your tracks. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun looking at you as you freeze in your spot. You look deep in thought. Suddenly, you shake your head and place the pot of red glaze back onto the countertop. He tilts his head in confusion.

“Ten seconds left!” 

Everyone is beginning to count down and you’re making final touches to your dish. Taeil, on the other hand, already has his hands up to indicate that he’s already done.

“Time’s up! Hands up! Servers, please take the dishes to the back.”

“Alright, Y/N, please tell us what you have served for us.”

Stepping forward, you clear your throat. Each one of them looks at you with anticipation, but it makes you grow even more nervous. You feel more nervous than how you were at the start of the competition. When your eyes meet Chef Jaehyun’s, your mind can’t help but go blank. He gives you an encouraging smile and it’s enough for you to snap back to your senses.

“For dessert, I’ve recreated a fallen apple by making an apple panna cotta. The fallen apple is supported by a bed of soil which is recreated with an assortment of nuts and raisins. To replicate the twigs and leaves of the apple tree, I’ve made a dough for the twigs and used a sugar glaze for the leaves.” You describe your dish. All of their eyebrows raise. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“I saw you holding a pot of red glaze earlier and I assumed that you were going to use that to glaze over the apple jelly. But I see that you’ve decided not to use it. Is there a particular reason why you decided to do that?” Chef Jaehyun asks as he’s digging into your dessert by taking a bit of everything onto his spoon.

“I decided not to use red glaze for this dish because I felt like it would look a little bit too fake. I also think that it wouldn’t match the overall colors of the dish.” You explain. 

Chef Jaehyun smiles. “I think that was good judgment on your part. If it doesn’t look like it belongs on your dish, then don’t add it. Well done, Y/N.”

“Let’s all dig in.” Chef Doyoung insists.

As they all taste your dish, you nervously fiddle with your fingers. After they have all finished tasting the different components of your dish, they look back up at you.

“I think this is a unique dish, Y/N.” Chef Taeyong begins. He’s the first one to make a comment on your dessert. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The presentation is spot on again. I really like the balance of sweetness from the apple jelly and the richness of the soil. I enjoyed this dish. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, chef.” You mumble.

“I agree with Chef Taeyong.” Chef Doyoung smiles. “I really like how the jelly melts in your mouth and how this is counteracted by the crunchy texture of the nuts. The presentation of the dish is executed very well, it looks like a fallen apple. You’ve done a beautiful job, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, chef.” 

“I agree with all of them.” Chef Jaehyun chuckles. “I see why you decided not to add red glaze to this dish. It would have completely ruined it. I am not one who likes desserts, but this has completely changed it for me. I love how it has the right amount of sweetness. The nuts balance well with the sweetness due to it being so rich in flavor. I would also serve something like this at my restaurant. You’ve come a long way, Y/N. You’ve done an excellent job in finishing up your three-course apple menu.”

“Wow, that means a lot, thank you so much.” You sigh with relief.

“Alright, we’re going to have a bit of a meeting now.” Chef Doyoung chuckles. “The two of you can go back and meet with your family while we go over your dishes and choose this season’s MasterChef.”

“Good luck, Y/N and Taeil.”

“We have finally come to a decision.”

Everyone is gathered near the front of the kitchen. The three judges are standing right in front of you. You and Taeil share glances. Taeil flashes you a huge smile that you mirror back at him. It feels like a dream standing in front of the three chef judges, waiting for them to announce the winner of MasterChef. The journey that you took on this competition is one that you will never forget and one that will change your life forever. 

“It was hard to choose a winner for this season’s MasterChef.” Chef Taeyong begins. “Because the two of you have come such a long way since the start of the competition. The two of you have been through tough challenges and elimination tests, but you persevered, and that’s why you’re standing here today.”

“You have both improved and learned a lot since you started your journey here at MasterChef, and your journey continues even after the competition.” Chef Jaehyun clasps his hands together. “I personally think this season is my favorite. This final round has been special. You both served dishes that we have never even seen in the previous seasons of MasterChef. The both of you should be extremely proud of yourselves for making it this far.”

“But we do have to choose one MasterChef winner. The winner will be getting the first prize and a chance to open up their own restaurant or catering service. This will put you out into the field of cuisine and culinary arts, something that we’re all sure that you both came here for.” Chef Doyoung smiles. “Shall we announce the winner?”

“I think we should.” Chef Taeyong chuckles. “It was such a hard decision but…”

“But we have finally chosen this season’s MasterChef.” Chef Doyoung finishes it for him. “Y/N, Taeil, could you please step up to the front?”

You and Taeil head towards the front, hand in hand. Taeil gives your hand a tight, reassuring squeeze. Standing right behind him is his own family. Standing behind you are your relatives and your father, but also your mother, who’s looking down at you from the sky. 

“This season’s MasterChef is…”

You close your eyes. Your heart begins to beat faster than horsepower. You would feel like the only woman in the world if you hear your name being called out. Standing right here, with Taeil, in front of three world-renowned chefs, is another reminder of how much you wanted this, why you started this journey, and what you want out of it. It’s not only for you, but for your mother, who would always chase her dreams. 

“Congratulations, because you are this season’s MasterChef…”

“Y/N! Congratulations, you are this season’s MasterChef!”

It’s all a blur. Confetti shoots up into the air and falls down like snowflakes. You open your eyes when you feel yourself being attacked by your family with hugs. Taeil’s hand never lets go of yours and he pulls you into a tight, celebratory hug. Your eyes well up with tears. 

You can’t believe it.

If only your mother was here to celebrate your win with you. But you’re sure that she’s up in the skies, cheering you on, celebrating your achievement. It’s hard to breathe because it all feels so surreal. When you blink away your tears, your vision becomes clear again and you see the three chef judges coming in to join the big hug. Chef Jaehyun falls within sight and you share gazes.

He flashes you a wide, warm, genuine smile while mouthing ‘congratulations’.

Your heart skips a beat but you pay no attention to it.

You mouth back a ‘thank you, chef’.

AFTER MASTERCHEF.

It’s been a couple of months since you won MasterChef and you’ve been assigned to work alongside Chef Doyoung at one of his new branch locations. You’ve been assigned this job in the meantime while you renovate your new diner that you’ve always wished of running. 

If Jaehyun were to be honest, he was quite sad (or should he say, jealous, but he will never admit it) that you were assigned to work with Doyoung. The days after MasterChef have been uneventful and boring. Everywhere he looks, it reminds him of you. Everything he does, it reminds him of you. Stubborn to admit it, he misses it. He misses you.

And so when he steps inside of Doyoung’s new branch location of his restaurant, Doie, he hopes that he could catch you there. Why? Because finding you has been extremely difficult these days. 

As he steps into the restaurant, he heads straight to the front desk. The woman working at the front slowly looks up and upon realizing who’s standing right in front of her, her posture straightens.  

He flashes her a warm smile. “Is Chef Y/N here?” 

“O-Oh! You’re Chef Jaehyun!” She exclaims. 

He smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes, that’s me. I decided to drop by and check this place out. I had only found out that Chef Y/N was assigned to work here in the meantime before the opening of Mina’s Place.” 

“Unfortunately, Chef Y/N already left. She left a couple of hours ago to attend to some personal matters.” The woman frowns, spinning a pen in between her fingers. 

“Oh, is that so?” He’s trying so hard to hide the disappointment in his eyes. “I guess I was a bit too late.”

“Do you want me to pass a message on to her, chef?” She asks insistently. 

“Oh, there’s no need. I guess I’ll just drop by tomorrow.” He says with defeat.

Why is it that it used to be so easy to bump into you? Why is it that it’s become so difficult to bump into you now? Why is it so hard to cross paths with you now? It’s been so easy to find you before. But now, when he tries to find you, he can’t. It’s grown into a difficult game of hide and seek.

“Actually—” Jaehyun begins before cutting himself off. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushes out of the restaurant and spots a flower shop right across the road. Stepping inside of the flower shop, he’s greeted by an elderly woman who’s watering a fresh batch of tulips. She places the pail of water back onto the black and white tiled floor. 

“Hello, young man, how can I help you?” 

He lets his eyes wander around the shop. He can’t seem to figure out what to get. 

“I’ve been wanting to get a bouquet of flowers, but I’m not quite sure which flowers to put together.” He scratches the back of his head. 

She giggles sheepishly. “Is it for a young lady that’s taken your interest?”

He’s caught off guard by the question. He lets out a shaky, breathy laugh. There’s no way he could be feeling this way for you. Even if he does feel like you’re someone special to him, it’s something that will take a while for him to understand. Liking you is one thing but falling in love with you is another.

“I—I mean—Yeah, I guess so?” He sounds confused.

She tilts her head. “You guess so? Well, young man, the fact that you’ve stepped foot into my shop to get a lovely lady a bouquet of flowers must mean something. She must be someone special.”

The old woman has a point. He wouldn’t be going out of his way to do all of this for you. He wouldn’t be trying to find you. He wouldn’t have the urge to talk to you, to get to know you more. 

“I guess you’re right,” he slowly nods his head when everything slowly becomes clear for him. “Alright. Do you mind putting a bouquet together for a young woman that I’ve taken interest in? I want her to like me just as much as I like her.”

The old woman breaks out into a wide smile. 

“Right away, sir.” 

When the bouquet of white daisies and red tulips is wrapped and bundled together with a plastic wrap, Jaehyun pays for the old woman’s efforts and time before heading back to the restaurant across the road. But before he leaves the flower shop, the old woman gives him words of encouragement. He gives her two thumbs up and heads back. 

The woman standing at the front eyes the bouquet of flowers in his hands when he enters. He places the bouquet on top of the counter. “I’m back.”

“You’re back, indeed.”

“Do you mind giving Y/N these flowers when he comes in tomorrow? You could place them in a vase to keep them fresh too.” He asks.

She nods her head. “Will do, chef.”

“Alright, thank you so much. I’ll head on out now—”

“Chef Jaehyun, are you sure you’re just going to give her the bouquet of flowers without a note?”

Shoot. He turns back around. “You’re right, I didn’t write a note.”

She slides over a stack of sticky notes and her own pen. “Here you go, chef.”

He grabs the stack of sticky notes and walks over to one of the tables for two. He plops his butt down onto one of the chairs and thinks about what to write and what type of note he wants to leave you. To him, it seems like he’s been sitting there for hours. There are so many things he wants to tell you, but he’ll have to say them one by one.

To Y/N, 

I dropped by Doie in hopes of seeing you. Would love to meet and catch up with you over a cup of coffee. I miss hope that we could get in touch soon. On the back of the note is my number. Hope to hear from you soon.

Jaehyun

“A short video?”

The production team exchanges looks before nodding their head. Jaehyun has been called to have a meeting with one of the food companies that he helps endorse. The company is popular for their gluten-free food products. From gluten-free flour to gluten-free bread, the company most likely carries it. It was the first brand that Jaehyun endorsed mainly because he’s always been picky with his food, especially since his mother’s allergic to gluten. 

“Yes! With Chef Y/N! It’s a promotion video for one of the new brands we’re carrying here at the supermarket. We’re planning on having the both of you shop around one of our supermarkets and use the groceries to create a dessert for Valentine’s Day.” One of the PR managers explains.

“Did Chef Y/N agree to do the video?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes, she just got back to us this morning. She’s interested in doing the video.” Another PR joins the conversation. 

“Great. I’ll do the video.”

Everyone looks at each other weirdly. That was such a fast response. They always had trouble negotiating with Jaehyun mainly because of his busy life. But this time, it was different.

“O-Oh? That’s perfect, chef!”

“When do we start?”

A couple of weeks later, you arrive at a supermarket that’s been closed off to the public until noon. It’s been a while since you last saw Chef Jaehyun. You were quite surprised to hear that he had decided to do the cooking video with you. You were even more surprised when the PR team had told you that the MasterChef viewers had voted for the two of you to collaborate for the video. As for the reasons why the viewers voted for the two of you specifically… you still have no idea.

“Chef Jaehyun will be arriving in a bit, he’s running late because of traffic.” The videographer informs you. 

“No worries, I’ll keep myself busy in the meantime.” You smile, heading inside of the supermarket to take a look at the groceries. 

You start off in the produce section, trying to see what you can come up with for the video. There are fresh large strawberries that you think would be perfect for chocolate-covered strawberries. After all, you and Chef Jaehyun are supposed to create a dish that would be perfect for Valentine’s Day. You try to look for other alternatives, steering away from doing the basics. 

“Miss Y/N? Chef Jaehyun has arrived. He’s just outside of the supermarket.” One of the PR interns approaches you, almost startling you.

“Oh! Yes, alright, I’ll head on over with you right now.” You join her as you both walk back outside of the supermarket. 

As you walk through the automatic doors, the first thing you spot is a tall figure standing a few meters away. He’s talking to the videographers and the PR interns who are telling him what they have planned for the video. You hesitantly approach them, mumbling a soft, “hello.”

When Chef Jaehyun turns towards you, you see his eyes slightly widen before a flame ignites within them. For a brief moment, you get lost in his eyes because you find yourself focusing more on trying to steady your fast heartbeat. When you come back to your senses, you’re the first to look away. 

He clears his throat and you feel his shoulder brush against yours. “Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

“Nice seeing you too, chef.” You mumble softly. Why do you feel shy?

“Are the two of you ready to start filming? From the scripts that we sent you, it’s going to be a casual type of video.” The videographer explains. “Just to briefly brush over what we have planned for the video, the two of you will be shopping for groceries that the company carries and sells and you will both cook up a dish together. It will be Valentine’s Day themed.”

The both of you slowly nod. “Are you ready?”

You look up to see Chef Jaehyun already looking down at you. You flash him a small, timid smile. “Ready, chef.”

“Perfect! Let’s start with the filming. Be yourselves and of course, have fun!” The videographer clasps his hands together and he pulls out his camera. 

You brace yourself.

It’s going to be a long day, that’s for sure.

“Hello everyone, I’m Chef Jaehyun.”

“And I’m Chef Y/N.” 

“And today, we’ll be shopping around for ingredients to cook up a meal that you could cook for your loved ones this Valentine’s Day.” 

Chef Jaehyun pushes the cart while you look for some fresh fruits in the produce section. The two of you have agreed to cook two different dishes, a dessert and a main course. Chef Jaehyun will be in charge of the main course dish while you will be in charge of the dessert. 

“To spice things up, we have a couple of questions to answer while we shop.” You begin while you’re grabbing a bag of raspberries. 

“You’re going to play the couple game!” One of the PR interns says from her script. Your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets. You don’t remember a couple game written in the script. From the surprised look on Chef Jaehyun’s face, you don’t think he remembers it either. “We will give you two options and the both of you will answer on the count of three. Think of it as a compatibility game!”

“C-Couple game? Compatibility game?” Chef Jaehyun chuckles sheepishly. 

“First question! Fried chicken or pizza? One… two… three!”

“Chicken.” You both answer in unison.

“Wow, the compatibility is strong right off the bat.” The PR intern giggles. “Next question! Snow or rain? One… two… three!”

“Snow.” You both answer in unison again. 

“Wow, this must be fate.” The PR intern swoons. “Third question! Ice cream or cake? One… two… three!”

“Ice cream.” Chef Jaehyun answers.

“Cake.” You answer.

“The last few questions will only get interesting from here. Next question!” The PR exclaims. “Fall in love with your childhood best friend or fall in love with a celebrity! One… two… three!” 

“Fall in love with your childhood best friend.” You both answer.

“Interesting. Next question!” The PR continues to read off of her list of questions. “Choose the one who likes me or choose the one I like the most? One… two… three!”

“The one that I like the most.” You both answer. The PR intern grins as if her mission was accomplished successfully. 

After all of your horrible encounters with Chef Jaehyun, this was one of the few times that you were actually on the same page as him. The only times that you felt like he was on your side was when he begged you to stay in the competition and when he was your partner for semi-finals. You were slowly starting to forget about cold-hearted Chef Jaehyun, the perfectionist that loved to nitpick every single detail of yours. This side of Chef Jaehyun… is a side that you want to see often. 

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you fell in love with him.

“Last question before we let you finish grocery shopping,” the PR intern snaps you out of your thoughts. “What are your ideal types?”

“I like someone who is easy to talk to, someone that I can communicate with without feeling embarrassed. It’s nice to have someone who’s transparent.” Chef Jaehyun is the first to answer the question. 

“How about you, Chef Y/N?” 

You think about it for a moment. You hum to yourself before shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t think I have an ideal type.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because I think that no matter what you like in a certain person, when you actually fall in love with someone, that person could be completely different.” You explain.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Y/N.” Chef Jaehyun nudges you.

It’s an odd gesture, coming from him. You bite your lip, nudging him back. 

“If there’s a hopeless romantic out of the two of us, it would be you, Chef Jaehyun.”

The PR intern chuckles.

“It would definitely be you, Chef Jaehyun, since you were born on Valentine’s Day!”

At the end of the shoot, you and Chef Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen before leaving the set. You’re busy washing the dishes and he’s busy putting the ingredients back into the cupboards and fridge. From the corner of your eye, you can see Chef Jaehyun leaning against the countertop, watching you. You almost drop the dishes into the sink, catching yourself right in time.

“How have you been?” You hear him ask.

You bite your lip. “I’ve been well, chef. You?”

“Better now that I’ve seen you again.” 

You clear your throat, letting out a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m not sure how you want me to react to that, chef.”

“Did you… get them?” 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Get the…?”

“The flowers…?”

“Flowers…?” You place the dishes back into the hot bath before gasping. “Oh, right! The flowers! Yes, I got them. Thank you, Chef Jaehyun. You didn’t really need to.”

“I wanted to give you a gift since I heard that you’re planning on opening a diner,” he mumbles softly. Is he… blushing?

“It’s true.” You smile. “I’m going to make my mother’s dreams come true.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you.” He flashes you a smile. It’s a different smile. This time, you can feel the genuinity he’s expressing. It feels sincere. “Have you finalized a grand opening date?”

You turn off the faucet and wipe your hands with a towel. As you turn towards Chef Jaehyun, you don’t realize how close he’s been standing to you. You almost stumble back. Gulping nervously, you nod your head. “Sometime in July.”

“I’ll keep my schedules flexible in July, then. I’d love to join you for the grand opening.” 

“Oh, you don’t need to, chef. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

“If it’s for you, why not?” 

The two of you stare at each other. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips. You lick them out of instinct, frozen with your feet glued to the floor. As you fake a cough, he regains his focus and is the first to pull away from you. 

“Jaehyun? We have to get going for your next schedule.” His manager calls out to him.

The two of you glance at each other. He gives you a look you can’t seem to read. Jaehyun doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay with you. He wants to spend more time with you. He’s aching to get to know you more. There’s a sense of urgency and neediness. 

“You should get going, chef.” You mumble shyly. “Wouldn’t want to be late to your next schedule.”

What Chef Jaehyun does next completely catches you off guard. He ruffles your hair before caressing your cheek with the same hand. With widened and surprised eyes, your heartbeat picks up its pace. He smiles. It feels warm. He feels warm.

“I won’t be able to see you for a while but Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N. You don’t know how happy I am to see you again.”

When Chef Jaehyun’s figure gets smaller and smaller, your heart feels tighter and tighter. You’re not sure how Chef Jaehyun feels about you. But what you’re sure of is that you no longer despise Chef Jaehyun. 

You’re slowly falling in love with him.

[NEW] COOK UP HEARTWARMING VALENTINE’S DAY DISHES W/ CHEF JAEHYUN AND MASTERCHEF CHAMPION Y/N  1.2m views | 56k+ likes | two days ago

COMMENTS:

[pinned comment] Chef Jaehyun Official: Happy Valentine’s Day everyone~ #chefjaehyunxYN should we do another video together?

pastrychef_amy21: omg is it just me or does anyone feel like chef jaehyun has a crush on chef y/n?? doggolover312 replied: omg I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE THAT NOTICED.  luminescencexx replied: the way he looks at her >> get you a man like chef jaehyun ugh he’s handsome AND he cooks??? perfect package kjhdskjfh

galaxiesandstarsxo: they act like an old married couple sobs i always found their bickering cute since masterchef doggolover312 replied: but doesn’t chef jaehyun have a gf? i swear he did galaxiesandstarsxo replied: i think they broke up a long time ago? they were supposed to get married apparently… but something happened. they even unfollowed each other on socials doggolover312 replied: omg if that’s the case… chef y/n you still have a chance!!

It’s your last day helping out at Doie and it feels bittersweet to be leaving. Here, you close a chapter to open another one. You’ve been helping out in the kitchen at Doie for months, right after you had won MasterChef. The time you were at Doie is something you’ll cherish. But you’re moving on to make bigger moves, making you and your mother’s dreams come true as one of them. 

On your last day of work, Chef Taeyong decides to surprise you with a visit. You’re in the middle of cooking up a dish when he arrives and asks you if the two of you could have a chat. You both find yourselves sitting in the loft that’s been closed to customers for the season. 

“How have you been?” He asks. 

You smile. “I’ve been well, chef. I’ve been enjoying every single day.”

He chuckles. “I can definitely see that you’re enjoying every passing day. You’re a MasterChef, after all.”

You cut right to the chase. “Am I in trouble, chef?”

“No, not at all. Far from it, actually.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something… or should I say, about someone.”

“Who?” 

He snorts. “Jaehyun, of course. Have you seen him recently?”

“Yes, chef. We filmed a video together for Valentine’s Day with one of his sponsors—”

“Now that makes sense!” He exclaims. He sighs with relief. “He’s been acting incredibly weird lately. In fact, he’s been acting weird for the longest time, since MasterChef, and it’s been driving me nuts.”

“Chef Jaehyun? Acting weirdly?” You ask confusedly. 

“How do I put this?” He sighs. “He likes you, Y/N. You may not think he does and he may not think he does either, but I see it. It’s crystal clear. It’s as clear as day.” 

You fold over, bursting out into laughter. It’s the reaction he expected from you. He got the same exact reaction from Jaehyun. Complete disbelief. Complete obliviousness. 

“Oh no, chef. I don’t think he likes me—”

“He does, Y/N.” Chef Taeyong cuts you off. “Listen, before his flight to Florence, his ex-girlfriend dumped him because she was cheating on him. Ever since then, Jaehyun has been such a cold-hearted person and worked his ass off. But I always felt that there was something off about him.”

“He got dumped before flying out to Florence?” You purse your lips into a tight line. “Maybe that’s why he was such in a bad mood when I spilled wine all over his shirt—”

“You both met each other before MasterChef?” Chef Taeyong flips out, eyes rounding like saucers. “In Florence, too?!”

“Yes…?”

“Makes sense.” He squints his eyes. “He kept talking about this restaurant, specifically about this waitress who somehow became a culinary intern—”

“That was me—”

“—and how he kind of regretted being so cold and rude to her because he truly saw potential and thought that she needed a boost of confidence—”

“He saw potential in me even back then—”

“—wait, the girl he was talking about was you?!” His jaw drops. 

You slowly nod your head. “I was the waitress who spilled wine all over his shirt. I was the culinary intern who messed up his dish. All those horrifying encounters with Chef Jaehyun had led me to think that he absolutely hated me. He was blunt and honest, which made my unconfident self to join MasterChef to prove him wrong.”

“And you did.” Chef Taeyong smiles before it turns into a grin. “But Y/N, you got it all wrong.”

“I got it all wrong? How?”

“Jaehyun never hated you. He never disliked you.” He confesses. “In fact, it’s the complete opposite. Jaehyun’s a weird guy, I know.”

“H-How? I don’t—I don’t understand.” You scratch the back of your neck, face filled with confusion. 

“When he told me about a waitress spilling wine all over his shirt, he laughed and said it was like fate was telling him to wake up.” He chuckles. “When he told me about a culinary intern messing up his dish, he couldn’t help but regret being harsh to the intern and wanted to go back but he already had to fly back to Seoul.” 

You’ve never really thought of how your encounters with Chef Jaehyun looked through his point of view. Now that Chef Taeyong was laying it all out for you, you were slowly realizing that your low self-esteem and confidence caused you to immediately conclude that he hated you. 

“Huh—”

“When you auditioned for MasterChef, Jaehyun actually wanted to say yes. In fact, he was the first one to say yes, but the producers of the show told him to say no to add more drama for the viewers.” He continues. “For your team challenge, Jaehyun was the one who spotted Euntae sabotaging your cake.” 

“It was him?” You whisper. 

He nods his head. “When we were deciding who to eliminate after your team lost the challenge, Jaehyun was proactive in convincing us to keep you in the competition. You were close to being eliminated but Jaehyun kept telling us that you had potential.” 

He saw potential in you. He was persistent in keeping you in the competition. In the end, Chef Jaehyun really cared. 

“I—”

“The day after I found out that Jaehyun stopped you from voluntarily withdrawing from the competition, I was curious as to how he managed to make you stay.” He smiles. “But when I looked at him look at you, I had already gotten the answer.”

You fall silent. Chef Jaehyun did everything to make sure that you felt like you were fit to be a chef. But you were just closed minded and immediately shut him down. All of his actions translated into intentions out of hate. You wish you had known, perhaps you would’ve developed a great friendship with him. You’re surprised he’s still coming back into your life to try at being friends with you after being so rude to him. 

“I’ve worked with Jaehyun for many years. I know him so well. I can read him like a book. When I saw how Jaehyun looked at you that day, I felt relieved because I’ve never seen him like that for so long.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “If my best friend decides to pursue you, just know that he has good intentions and that it’s a huge step for him, especially after a heart crushing breakup.”

“That is, if he really likes me.” 

“Oh trust me, honey, he does.”

Chef Taeyong lets out a sigh. The two of you stand there, looking out at the blue skies that overlook the busy streets of Seoul. Your life may be busy, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else. You’re living out your dreams. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, chef?”

“The reason why I dropped by was because I wanted to give you this.” He pulls out an envelope from a bag filled with many other identical envelopes. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Can I open it in front of you?”

He hums in reply. “Go ahead.”

As you open the envelope, you pull out a white card. It’s almost as if you could read his mind. As you slowly open the white card, you let out a gasp.

“You’re getting married?!”

THE GRAND OPENING.

It’s been a year since you won MasterChef. It’s also been a year since you started planning to start your own diner in memory of your mother. Mina’s Place. You decided to keep the name because it’s one of the few things that remind you of her. You even made sure the interior and exterior of the diner looked exactly how it did when the diner was still open. From the yellow seats and booths, the use of purple and lavender lighting to the gray tiled floors, you kept everything the same. The only difference is that the diner is located in a different area, right in the middle of busy Seoul. 

Today is the grand opening of the diner and you’re expected to serve a large group of customers. PR and advertisement has been your best friend, but your appearance and your win at MasterChef drove the anticipation of the diner’s grand opening even further. 

You arrive at the diner at six in the morning to prepare all of the ingredients. From the ingredients to the grapefruit and basil pie to the ingredients for your Korean brisket and kimchi burger, you had prepared them all on your own. It was only until eight that your co-chefs and waiters and waitresses had arrived to prepare for the grand opening. Around eleven-thirty, customers, Instagram influencers and foodies began to show up at the door, forming a long line around the strip.

“Chef Y/N?” One of the waitresses, Luna, pops her head through the door.

You’re crouching down, filling up the mini fridge with cartons of milk. You dust your hands off your apron and you slowly get up. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Someone’s here to see you,” she flashes you a warm smile.

You look at her confusedly. “Are we missing someone on the team? I don’t remember anyone telling me that they were going to drop by—”

“It’s Chef Jaehyun,” Luna bites her lip. She’s biting back a huge smile.

Your eyebrows raise. Confused, you continue to gather yourself. Chef Jaehyun? “S-Sure, you can let him in.”

Luna leaves the kitchen to go fetch Jaehyun and you finish placing all the cartons of milk into the mini fridge. Moments later, you hear footsteps entering the kitchen. You stand back up, bumping your head against the table and groaning in pain. Crouching back down over the floor, you hear footsteps begin to scurry closer to you. 

“Oh! Are you okay, Y/N?” 

Before your hand touches the sensitive area, you already feel a familiar hand gently rubbing it to soothe the pain. You freeze up in your position, gulping nervously. Suddenly, Chef Jaehyun’s face is right in front of yours. He has a look of concern. Looking back at him with slightly widened eyes, your mind is completely wiped out of thoughts. What is this feeling? You’ve never felt this way before. You’ve never felt your heart beat so fast. You’ve never frozen up in front of someone. You’ve never lost your train of thought because of someone. 

Seconds later, you clear your throat, pulling yourself away. You’ve finally come back to your senses. “Chef Jaehyun… I had no idea you were planning on dropping by—”

“I wanted to join you in the ribbon ceremony for the grand opening!” He exclaims.

He remembered? He knew it was today? You and Chef Jaehyun have never established some sort of friendship after the competition. You like to think that the both of you have achieved the status of being acquaintances, but definitely not the status of being friends. 

“A-Ah,” you mumble softly. “Thanks, chef. You didn’t need to, I feel like it would be a bother and I’m sure you have other plans too—” 

You’re not sure when things began to change. You’re not sure when the atmosphere began to shift between you and Chef Jaehyun. It’s almost as if you’re seeing a different person. He’s much brighter, nicer, happier. Why is it making your heart swell? What are his intentions?

“I wouldn’t miss the grand opening to Mina’s Place for anything else,” he says softly. “Hey, Y/N?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“I got you a present to congratulate you on the grand opening of Mina’s Place.” 

“A present?” You blurt out. “Oh, no, Chef Jaehyun, you didn’t need to—”

“I wanted to.” He cuts you off. “Let’s go?” 

For a brief moment, you see his hand reach out to grab yours but he quickly pulls away upon realization. The two of you are not that close for such skinship. When he realizes it, he looks back up at you with panicked eyes. Was he really going to hold your hand? You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from his. Instead, you both walk out of the kitchen side by side.

Sitting on one of the light brown hardwood tables is a lavender box wrapped with a thin white ribbon. You glance at Jaehyun as if asking for permission, he gestures to you to go right ahead. Gently untying the ribbon, you take the lid off the box. A small gasp escapes your lips.

Sitting inside the box is an apron, but it’s not your regular apron. The apron looks just like the one in your old family pictures. Yellow with white straps. It’s simple and clean. It’ll show the stains of your hard work. It’ll feel like home. 

But when you pull it out, there’s one little difference to the design. There, embroidered in white on the top left corner, reads the words “Mina’s Place.” It looks just like your mother’s handwriting, the original font of the brand, and it makes your eyes well up with tears. For a brief moment, when you hold up the apron, you could imagine your mother standing right before you with it on. 

“Chef, I—” You’re having trouble forming the right words to say. 

“So she’ll be with you, right above your heart, every step of the way,” Jaehyun pauses for a moment, “Chef.” He gives you a smile so fond, you are again struck with disbelief. 

Hearing the word ‘chef’ come from Chef Jaehyun is something you want to hear over and over again. You want it to play through your head like a broken record. Chef Jaehyun has always been hard on you, but you knew that he was only hard on you because he only wanted the best. Chef Jaehyun is always hard on everyone and you failed to notice that. He truly wants the best for the people he works with and most importantly, the people he teaches. Maturing is realizing that you were ignorant of Chef Jaehyun’s true intentions and immediately thought negatively of him because of your past encounters with him. 

“D-Do you mind saying that again?”

“I’m proud of how far you’ve come, Chef Y/N. This is only the beginning.”

After a long first day of opening, you and your team of chefs and waiters and waitresses see the last customer out. The grand opening has been such a dream to you. There was a long line that wrapped around the block. The diner was packed with many people. The line never truly saw its end until an hour before closing. When the last customer walks out of the diner after complimenting how delicious their food was, you feel your legs give out and you sigh with relief. Slowly getting back up onto your feet, you head to the back kitchen to congratulate your team.

“And we are officially closed until tomorrow morning!” You exclaim. That is, until you spot a celebratory cake sitting right in front of you on the countertop. Your team of chefs and waiters and waitresses have their phones on and recording your surprised face. “Oh you guys, you shouldn’t have!”

“Congratulations on your grand opening, chef!”

Your eyes scan the kitchen. There’s Luna, a good friend of yours from university who worked as a waitress at a hotel restaurant. She quit her job in a heartbeat after you had offered her to work front of house with a better pay. Standing right next to Luna is Minhyuck, who just graduated from culinary arts college and has been wanting to get into the kitchen as soon as possible. You saw your younger self in him, which is why you hired him on your team. Right next to Minhyuck is Yena, a rookie pastry chef that’s planning on entering MasterChef and figured working with a MasterChef champion would help her. Next to Yena are Wheein and Dohyun, who are line chefs and also your co-culinary interns in Florence. Lastly, there’s Mark and Donghyuck, two best friends and college students who were looking to get jobs as waiters.

“You guys are going to make me cry.” You pout your lips.

“To Mina’s Place!” Mark exclaims.

“To Mina’s Place!” Everyone else exclaims.

You smile, leaning in to blow out the candles. Everyone cheers. But slowly, everyone puts down their phones and stops recording video. You look at them confusedly as they begin to flash you encouraging and cheeky smiles and grins. 

“Why are you guys looking at me like that?” You ask.

“Well, would you look at the time, we should get going!” Dohyun looks down at his wristwatch, avoiding your question.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. My mom’s going to kill me!” Wheein is rushing to gather her things.

“Wheein is my carpool driver, so I should get going too.” Yena bites her lip.

One by one, everyone starts to leave the kitchen and the diner. When it’s just you, you slowly turn around to see Chef Jaehyun entering the kitchen. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck nervously. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Y-You’re still here, chef?” You question.

He nods his head. “I wanted to drop by and see your last customer out.”

“O-Oh, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He smiles. “I was wondering if you could…”

He falls silent, having trouble finding the right words to come out. You stand there, expectantly, waiting for him to finish. The first thing you notice is how red Chef Jaehyun’s ears are becoming. The second thing you notice is how he can’t seem to look directly into your eyes. The third thing you notice is that… Chef Jaehyun has become shy and nervous around you. Have the tables turned?

“If I could…?”

“If you could teach me how to make the grapefruit and basil pie.” He blurts out and it comes out as a jumble of words. 

You bite back a smile. “Are you going to steal my recipe and start selling grapefruit and basil pie at your restaurant?”

“Of course not,” he panics. “I would never do that.”

“I’m not sure if I could trust you,” you fold your arms, continuing to tease him. “Jaehyun.”

“I won’t,” he says softly, finally finding the courage to look into your eyes. When it sinks in that you called him by his name, his gaze softens. You feel your heart swell. “I promise. That is, if you promise me one thing too.”

“Of course,” you smile. “What is it?”

“You’ll accompany me to Taeyong’s wedding.” 

“I’d love to, in fact, I was invited as well—”

“As my date.” He finishes. You almost choke on your spit. 

Is this really happening? Jaehyun looks incredibly nervous. You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling so wide. You slowly nod your head in response.

“I’d love to, Jaehyun.”

THE ‘REAL’ FIRST TIME.

When Jaehyun’s parents pick him up from elementary school, it’s pouring showers outside. But the only thing that lit up the gloomy streets of Seoul was Mina’s Place, a diner that he and his parents would frequent every Friday to reward their efforts for the past week. Both of Jaehyun’s parents are well-known professors at Yonsei University, specifically in the culinary arts program. Jaehyun’s father was a chef alongside famous chefs like Baek Jongwon and Lee Yeonbok. Jaehyun’s mother was a pastry chef who was known for her win at a famous pastry competition back in her days. 

And Jaehyun… was a mini chef in the making. 

On a gloomy Friday afternoon, Jaehyun and his parents sit in their usual corner of Mina’s Place. A woman seeming to be in her late thirties heads over to their table with a menu. She’s wearing an apron and a chef’s hat. 

“Welcome to Mina’s Place, what can I get you started for today?” The woman asks, pulling out her notepad after gently placing the menus down onto the red table. 

“Hi Mina, we’d love to have the usual!” Jaehyun’s father exclaims. “That grapefruit and basil pie has never left my mind since the last time we were here.” 

“That’s such a relief to hear…” The woman, whom Jaehyun now knows is Mina herself, sighs with relief. She writes it down in the notepad along with his mother’s order. She clicks her pen before stuffing it into the pocket of her yellow apron. “I’ll have your orders ready in a bit. In the meantime, make yourselves at home!”

Jaehyun’s eyes wander around the diner. Although this diner was the place he and his parents would frequent, this diner was extra special for a reason. That reason being that his parents got engaged right in front of the diner while it was owned by different owners. During that time, the diner wasn’t Mina’s Place yet, it was a fast-food restaurant. 

Jaehyun’s attention is disrupted when Mina comes back to their table with their orders. His eyes land on the little girl standing right beside her. She has such large innocent eyes. She looks curiously at him. She seems to be somewhere around his age. She’s sporting a mini apron that looks exactly like Mina’s. 

“And who is this cute little girl?” He hears his mother ask Mina.

Mina places her hand on the little girl’s shoulder, bringing the little girl closer to her. She cuddles against Mina. “This is my daughter. Her name is Y/N.”

“How old is she?” His mother continues to ask questions out of curiosity. 

“She’s ten.” Mina pinches her daughter’s cheek. 

“Oh, she’s two years younger than Jaehyun!” His father joins in the conversation. “They could be friends!”

Jaehyun makes eye contact with the little girl. She looks up at her mother before looking at both of his parents. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she looks back at him and sticks out her tongue. He feels taken aback, eyes slightly widening. 

“I think they would get along quite well!” Mina smiles. “Doesn’t little Jaehyun want to be a chef when he grows up?”

“He does,” his mother nods her head. “Does Y/N want to be a chef as well? Take after you?”

“She sure does! They could even go to culinary school together! Maybe go to a cooking competition or something!”

Friends? Jaehyun scoffs, sending a glare at the little girl. They have an intense staredown. To the adults, it looks like they’re staring at each other because they have crushes on each other. But in reality, Jaehyun’s having a staredown with the little girl because she provoked him. He pokes his tongue at her in return. Her eyes widen as if she did not expect him to put up a mini fight. They could even go to culinary school together? There’s no way that that’ll happen. Cooking competition? Absolutely no way. 

“I think my little daughter here has a crush…”

“Jaehyun, sweetie, isn’t Y/N so pretty? You can’t seem to stop staring at her.”

THE REALIZATION OF (MANY) THINGS.

“That was you?!”

“I can’t believe that was you!”

Sitting by the water fountain, you and Jaehyun talk about your real first encounter with each other when you were kids. From the outside of the reception venue, you can hear the DJ playing a remix of cha cha slide and the guests chanting along. Taeyong’s wedding has been memorable. It was nice to see one of your mentors getting married to the love of his life. Not only that, but you’ve been having a great time with Jaehyun. Since it was getting quite stuffy inside the venue, you and Jaehyun decided to stroll around the garden outside to get some fresh air. 

“You know, sometimes I think that we’ve always had fateful encounters.” Jaehyun begins. He’s aching to hold your hand. But he knows that he wants to take things slow and carefully. He’s so in love with you that he doesn’t want to mess this up. 

“Fateful encounters? What makes you say that?” You ask.

“I came out of a horrible breakup before flying to Florence to run a restaurant with Taeyong. It was such a huge coincidence to have a beautiful woman spill expensive wine all over my shirt.” He chuckles.

You jokingly glare at him. “It was an accident.”

“I know, I know.” He waves it off. “It was an even more big of a coincidence to have the same beautiful woman serve me a dish at the same restaurant.”

“Makes sense.” You nod your head in agreement. “And then we met again at MasterChef but I was a contestant and you were the judge.”

“You know, when I heard that you were withdrawing from the competition, it was like my entire world was crashing down.” He says softly. “It was like I was reminded of all the times I’ve met you and how I couldn’t let you go. I had a feeling that there must’ve been a reason why I met you after getting dumped by my ex-girlfriend.”

“But you showed me that it’s worth working hard and that it’s worth chasing your dreams.” You smile. “I haven’t thank you yet for that but... thank you, Jaehyun. If it weren’t for you, I would probably fly back out to Florence and pick up another job as a waitress.”

“And yet, I would still look for you.” He confesses. “If somehow you stuck with your decision of withdrawing, I would’ve still looked for you, no matter how far the distance.”

“Really?” You whisper.

He smiles. “Yes. I mean, how could I forget the beautiful woman that spilled expensive wine all over my shirt?”

You playfully slap his arm. “You’re really going to tease me for that for the rest of my life, huh?”

“Of course, if only you allow me to be with you for a long time.” He says and it slowly turns into a soft, shy mumble. “Agh, this is so hard!”

You quirk an eyebrow. He’s turning away from you, throwing a cute little fit. “What’s so hard?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something but I keep getting nervous because you look—” He stops himself. “You look so pretty and whenever I look at you, I lose my train of thought and all of the things I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What is it that you need to tell me?”

“Our fateful encounters.” He begins to tell you, with his back facing you because he’s too nervous to look at you. “After MasterChef, I did everything I could to find you, to see you, to get to know you more. When Doyoung told me that you were going to be working at his restaurant for a while, I kept visiting in hopes to see you but you weren’t there.”

“You did?”

“Yes, which is why I gave you those flowers!” He exclaims. “And then when we were asked to shoot that Valentine’s Day video, I agreed to do it in a heartbeat when I found out that you were going to be joining the project.” 

“Oh...” 

“It used to be so easy to look for you because of all of our fateful encounters. But after MasterChef, it’s become a mission to find you. But now that I’ve finally found you again, I knew that I couldn’t let you go no matter what.” 

“Jaehyun...” You trail off. 

He sucks in a deep breath before slowly turning back around to face you. “Y/N, I hope you know what I’m trying to say, where I’m trying to get at with this... but...”

“But?” You have a feeling you know what he’s going to tell you, but you would rather wait for it to spill past his lips. 

“I’m—” He begins before looking down at your feet. His eyebrows raise in shock and he lets out a small gasp. “Oh, you’re wearing them.”

You almost want to curse at your two feet for ruining the moment. You look down at your heels that you’ve chosen to wear to the wedding. It’s the pair of heels that Alessandro had given to you when you broke your heels after tripping over yourself and spilling wine all over Jaehyun. 

“These heels? Yeah, I was given—”

“You’re wearing the heels that I gave you.” He cuts you off.

“You were the one who gave these?” You whisper.

His eyes meet yours and he chuckles, nodding his head. “Of course. When you got back up after tripping over, I noticed that your heels broke and so I stopped by one of the shops along the strip to get you a new pair. I think I dropped it off with Alessandro because I was running a bit late to—oof!”

“It was you. It’s always been you. This entire time.” You crush him with a hug. He’s caught off guard and sits there in shock for a brief moment before melting into your embrace. 

He slowly pulls away and grabs your hands. “As I was saying...”

“As you were saying...” You continue.

“With all our fateful encounters... with those pair of heels... with all of the times I’ve crossed paths with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way in so long.” He continues. “Y/N, I’m so in love with you. I’m already so nervous telling you this right now, especially while holding your hands. I just wanted you to know that I have feelings for you and you could completely reject me, I understand—”

“I’m in love with you too, Jaehyun.”

“Really?” He whispers, still in shock. “You’re giving me a chance?”

“Only if you give me a chance.” You chuckle.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, Y/N.”

“You don’t know how much I want to make you happy, Jaehyun.”

WELCOME TO THE NEW SEASON OF MASTERCHEF.

“For today’s challenge, we will be recreating Y/N’s most famous dish!”

All of the contestants let out gasps when you step onto the stage to join the three chef judges. The judges for the new season of MasterChef remain the same; Chef Taeyong, Chef Jaehyun, and Chef Doyoung. After having them beg you to guest on the show, you decided to give it a shot.

“For today’s challenge, you will be recreating my famous dish of a deconstructed basil and grapefruit pie.” You smile. “To start this challenge, let us all gather around the front so that you could learn how to master your own deconstructed pie!”

You begin by making your way towards the demo station where you will be showing the contestants how to make your famous pie. Everyone joins in and gathers around you to get a glimpse of how to make your famous pie themselves. Standing on the stage a couple of metres behind you are the three judges, you watch you begin your demo.

Jaehyun folds his arms and lets out a happy sigh. Taeyong glances at him and quirks an eyebrow. “I wonder who that beautiful woman is cooking at the demo table over there.”

Taeyong snorts and rolls his eyes. “Jaehyun, that’s your girlfriend.”

Jaehyun chuckles, nodding his head. “Oh right... she is. That’s my girlfriend—actually, my fiance.”

“Your what? Since when? H-How—” Doyoung and Taeyong share shocked looks while Jaehyun digs into the pockets of his jeans to pull out an engagement ring. Your engagement ring, to be exact.

“Since last night.” He holds up your engagement ring in one hand and shows his engagement ring that he’s wearing on his other. “She doesn’t like cooking with her engagement ring so I’m just holding it for her.”

“Dude...” Taeyong clenches his chest.

Jaehyun snorts. “Dude...”

“Wow, I’m really the only one left that’s single, huh?” Doyoung sighs.

The two chefs comfort him by patting his back.

“She’ll come around soon, Doyoung. You just gotta be patient.”

“You never know, she’ll be a chef too!”

“Chef Jaehyun?” 

The three of them shift their attention back to the contestants. You’re the one calling out to Jaehyun. He quirks an eyebrow. “Yes, Chef Y/N?”

“A couple of the ladies here are wondering if you’re single,” you chuckle. 

Jaehyun shares a knowing look with you. “Well, I hate to disappoint but I just got engaged to the love of my life.”

They let out sad sighs and groans before everyone gets back to learning how to make your famous pie. Taeyong smirks. 

“You’re breaking so many hearts right now, Jaehyun.”

💌 author’s note. she’s FINALLY here 😩 again, i apologize for keeping this off for such a long time. i’ve been super busy with school and just life in general. to everyone who’s been super understanding and patient, thank you so much. from the bottom of my heart, i sincerely thank you for waiting for such a long time. i also wanted to thank @sehunniepotwrites for hearing me voice out my frustrations and all of my excitement throughout writing this fic. nikki truly saw all of the emotions that i’ve experienced and gone through while writing chef!jae. i remember always wanting to write a chef!jae fic and bring chef!jae to life, but there was a lot of pressure and the feeling of doubt.. i felt like i had to do it justice and the fear of not writing it to the best of my ability (esp with me being a perfectionist), it was something that held me back from finishing this fic. but i managed to pull through and i realized that it doesn’t matter, what matters is that i enjoyed writing this fic and if that feeling of enjoyment can be felt through those who read it, that’s more than enough for me. but anyways before this gets longer, thank you so much for reading!

and as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!

taglist (some of the tags didn’t work so if u didn’t get the notif, i’m sorry!): @anya-writes-stuff​ @swifterauhl​ @tyongblr @alwaysthefirstsight @doyoungsmovingcastle​ @pinkyzae​ @sunshinein17​ @jaehyunnie77​ @dreamycomets​ @seventeeneration​ @srutz​ @coupsiesluv​ @nctdom​ @moonchele​ @freshprunecowboyapricot​ @chimmybaek7​ @forhaever​ @ten10vly​ @fluffyjaes​ @gyujaehyun​ @so-showme-ill-shownu​ @winniet​ @yipyipmorals​ 

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #ankathia #nct-writers #jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x oc #jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun x oc #jeong jaehyun x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct x oc #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x oc #fluff #angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #IT'S DONE #AHHHHHH

[aetherdoesthings]

hello! good night! i was scrolling down and i saw your post about requests... and i was going to ask if i could do one even though i didnt follow you before realizing you were the luffy angst writter!!! that i follow for that series/three-shot!!! anyways;

could you do something about a reader (f! or gn! reader, the one you prefer) getting a tattoo? (a tramp stamp to be more specific, if you can) with robin, shanks, luffy and crocodile? it can be platonic or romantic/suggestive! i had the idea of getting one for a little while and i couldnt resist the temptation of having some thoughts w/them...

thank you very much! i love your writing! 💖

elo aequarea! thank you for the compliment 🫶🏻🫶🏻! unfortunately i've put the luffy angst fic on hiatus until i decide to finish off y/n fate.

forethoughts: sickness update- i can breathe through my nose now! but i got a stupid cough and sore throat still :(. yes i'm still sick and writing with a migraine. thanks for all the wishes and lovely messages you've given me <3! going back to sleep after posting this.

notes: this is my first time writing for shanks and crocodile, so apologies if inaccurate or not good. all gn!reader, smut-ish for crocodile and robin.

Robin

When you told Robin you wanted a tramp stamp, she didn’t make any comments, and only wanted to know your reason behind it. She saw her fair share of tramp stamps back at her time in Baroque Works; she wasn’t shocked at the concept of it. She was rather intrigued at your desire to have one.

After learning why you wanted one, she grabbed her stuff, and took you to the tattoo shop to get one for you.

She knew you weren’t that good with pain, so the entire time you were getting your tattoo, you squeezed her hand, while she nonchalantly read a book. 

Robin didn’t care that her fingers were turning purple, she was reading her book.

She’d occasionally smile at you and give you some words of encouragement, squeezing your hand back before getting back to her book.

Once you were done, she’d coo you and help you recover, making sure it doesn’t get infected or smushed, giving you the best tattoo aftercare ever.

Once it was fully healed, she’d use it to tease you, brushing a finger over it, knowing you’re sensitive in that area. She’d tease the living daylight out of you in bed, making you cry out her name to stop the teasing.

Shanks

Shanks would first be confused by what a tramp stamp is, but once he digs into his memory, he remembers what it is and what it means.

He’d 100% want to choose the design or be a part of choosing the design because if he’s going to stare at it all day, he’d want it to be a beautiful sight.

As you’re getting your tattoo, he’s by your side, telling you a bunch of stories about his days on sea, trying to distract you from the needles poking into your skin. 

He ignores your cries and screams and his fingers turning purple simply by raising his voice over your screams.

Once you were done with your tattoo, Shanks immediately turned into a father figure, caring for you and treating your tattoo until it was fully healed.

Once it was fully healed, he’d always make sure to make a comment about it, especially in bed. He’d show it off to his crew and friends, boasting about how his partner got a tramp stamp for him (you did not get a tramp stamp for him).

All in all, Shanks adores the tattoo and loves it on your body, and maybe if you convince him with two bottles of alcohol in his system, he might get one too.

Luffy

100% when you tell Luffy you want to get a tramp stamp he’s gonna get it with you.

Boy doesn’t even know what it is, he just wants to match with you and get the same tramp stamp.

When it’s time to get it, he sits on the chair next to you, holding your hand to comfort you as you were both getting the tramp stamp. 

Little did you know he’d be the one squeezing the blood out of your fingers when the tattoo started.

For someone who’s fought a warlord and the World Government, he was squirming in his seat, waiting for the tattoo to end. 

Once it did end, he was thrilled and hyped, since the two of you got matching tattoos.

Oh, the poor Straw Hats who had to listen to Luffy yap about the tramp stamp and how it matches with yours.

Crocodile

Crocodile really didn’t care when you told him you wanted a tramp stamp. He was busy with his work, still trying to take down Alabasta and making sure it was a foolproof plan. 

He wasn’t also a fan of getting a tramp stamp, since he knew what it meant and he didn’t want the world to know his partner was associated with promiscuity.

He relented eventually, after you brought Miss All Sunday to join the argument, as Crocodile had no choice but to let you get the tramp stamp.

You went to the shop with Miss All Sunday, since Crocodile didn’t want to be seen with you inside a tattoo shop getting a tramp stamp, but he didn’t want you to go alone with you would be in danger, so he sent Miss All Sunday to go with you.

You got the tattoo with the woman, talking about some random things to pass the time. 

Once you were done,  you showed Crocodile, who initially had a strong reluctance in the tattoo.

But now that you got it, he was in love with the tattoo. He loves to use his hook to grab your waist, running the hook against your tattoo, loving your reaction and how it looked against your skin.

Yes he will use his hook to grab your waist while he’s pumping into you from behind and calling you a whore and living up to your tattoo.

#one piece #op #nico robin #nico robin x reader #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #tramp stamps #aetherasks

[kanerallels]

Posting a little MSATD one shot for fun and profit! After a little pondering, I decided to go with this one! As with most of my fics, it was written before S4 started to air, so it won't have any spoilers for that, and only minimal for S3! (also this one is a part one, so I'll have to post the follow up at some point. If you're interested in being tagged, let me know!

“Let. Her. Go,” William bit out, his gaze focused on the man with the gun. Which Eliza could hardly blame him for, since the gun was inches from her own head. 

“Tell your men to stand down first,” the man growled. “I’m not going to prison.”

“You’ll be going in the ground if you don’t drop the weapon,” William snapped, his gaze briefly flashing to Eliza and— she knew that look. It was a “be ready” look. Something was about to happen, and she had best be prepared.

The man holding her hostage was talking again, but Eliza wasn’t really listening. She didn’t have much time for hearing a rich man complain about how terrible his life of luxury was. And besides, she was waiting for… something.

The moment was obvious when it came. The man had started gesturing with the hand holding his gun, and as he waved it to one side, Eliza heard a gunshot. Behind her, the man screamed, jerking backwards, and the hand clamped onto her shoulder released her.

Eliza bolted forward, heading towards where the police had taken shelter a few yards away. She saw William shift, like he was ready to move towards her— and then another gunshot rang out. Something slammed into her side, sending her toppling forward.

It was only as she hit the ground, gravel digging into her palms, that the fiery pain began to spread through her and she realized she’d been shot.

“ELIZA!”

She’d never heard William shout like that, his voice raw and desperate. He sounded… terrified. More terrified than he had when he’d had a gun pointed at his head, than when he’d been holding a bomb that could go off at any second.

He was there a few heartbeats later, grabbing her by the shoulders and rolling her over. A stab of pain went through Eliza, and she tried and failed to hold back a yelp. “William—”

“Stay still,” he ordered, shrugging out of his jacket. Eliza, despite her head spinning from pain and shock, heard shouts and a few more gunshots, people racing past them. 

She started to sit up, trying to see what was going on. William, who was pulling a knife out of his pocket, said, “Eliza. Stop. Phelps and Fitzroy have the suspects.”

“Blast it,” Eliza muttered, still trying to sit up. “This had better not mean I’m not getting paid—” she cut herself off with a gasp of pain.

“Oh, for— will you stop moving?” William barked, slashing the sleeve off of his jacket. Sliding an arm underneath her shoulders, he half-lifted her up, settling his shoulder underneath hers.

Agony burned through her, and Eliza choked back a whimper. She could not show weakness, not right now. Reluctantly, she shot a glance at the area where the pain was coming from.

The bullet had caught her in the side of the abdomen. Torn fabric and blood were all she could really see before William pressed the folded sleeve over the wound. “Hold that there,” he said, and waited until she’d done so to let go.

Grimacing, Eliza let her head drop back. “Blast it,” she muttered. “I rather liked this dress.”

William snorted as he started cutting long strips off the hem of his jacket. “Not what I’d have thought you of all people would be focusing on right now.”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Eliza pointed out. “Would you rather I focused on that?”

Her voice quivered, but only slightly, and William didn’t comment. In fact, he was surprisingly silent as he tore one last strip of fabric free, and Eliza could swear she saw his hands shaking, just for a moment, as he pocketed the knife again.

Another wave of pain went through her, and she bit her lip hard. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “I must say, I don’t exactly enjoy this so far.”

“I know,” William said, his voice soft but firm. “Hold still just a minute— let me finish this bandage, then we’ll get you to a doctor. I promise.”

Pressing his hand against the bandage, he nodded for her to let go, and began binding it in place with the strips of fabric. Eliza’s head spun, and she couldn’t hold back a groan. “Ugh. What— what happened to the suspect?”

Glancing over his shoulder, William said, “Fitzroy has him in custody, along with the others.”

“Hmm. Who shot him?”

“That would be one of the new detectives. Pretty good shot— got rid of the gun and most of his hand at the same time.” Tying the last strip in place, William studied her. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

Eliza let out a huff of annoyance, then regretted it as a wave of pain went through her. “I am not going to faint. Help me up.”

“Absolutely not, and I’m not going to waste time arguing with you.” 

Before Eliza could even begin to protest— and she had plenty of protesting to do— William slid an arm underneath her legs and hoisted her into his arms. As he rose to his feet, Eliza instinctively threw an arm around his neck, clinging to him to prevent herself from toppling to the ground.

“You alright?” he asked, starting to move.

“Fine,” Eliza managed, which was not exactly true. Pain was burning through her, her head was spinning, and she was being carried off of the crime scene like some kind of swooning lady. “Though really, William, this is rather undignified and ungentlemanly of you.”

He actually snorted at that. “I’ll worry about being gentlemanly again once you’ve seen a doctor.” Pausing just for a moment, he said quietly, “You know, you’re allowed to be shaken, Eliza. There’s nothing wrong with being scared after something like this.”

“I am not scared,” Eliza muttered.

“I was.”

His voice was matter of fact, like he was stating the weather, and Eliza had to take another look at his face. It was set, stern and emotionless, but there was no expression of his she could not see through.

Without speaking, she let her head drop down onto his shoulder, closing her eyes. She felt his arm around her tighten briefly, in a silent response. And for just a moment, Eliza let herself feel… safe. Despite the pain and the fear she was trying not to admit.

And then they were getting into William’s carriage and he was shouting at the driver to go faster, and her spinning head was getting worse and worse. “Oh, blast it,” she muttered. “William?”

“What?”

“I may be about to faint.”

Whatever his response was, she was unable to hear it as she dropped into darkness. The last thing she felt was his hand around hers.

#i am allowed to write a little hostage scenario #as a treat #miss scarlet and the duke #msatd #eliza scarlet #william wellington #eliza x william #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[waywardstation]

I'd rather not have a "present day" cameo in PLZA tbh. Be it Emmet or any other character for that matter. This time I only want actual ancestors/descendants of the characters. I don't want people being lost across time and space anymore. At least they gave Anabel in SuMo somewhat of a resolution. (though it appears her displacement is of a different origin than Ingos [and no one "actually" me because if Ingo was a Faller Hisui would also be crawling with UBs (though it would be interesting to save Hisui not only from Frenzied Pokemon but also some UBs wreaking havoc thanks to the friendly neighbourly amnesiac])

Though I totally understand the craving for some updates or a solution... The way I want it to be done IF they do it is for something on the mainland of Unova (not BB Academy) and have the twins together and happy. Maybe briefly mention Ingo's little adventure across time and space but that's it. Nothing more nothing less... Because personally I wouldn't be able to take another small bite and wait forever for the thing to be resolved IF they EVER resolve it in the first place.

That being said I still think the possibilities fans come up with can be pretty entertaining regardless. Just don't want it to happen in canon... Canon could be disappointing in the games... Like Lusamine went crazy after her husband was lost across time and space but when finally meeting him in the game she just lets him walk off like: "he seems happier now". I don't want to see a similar resolution where Emmet and Ingo finally meet but decide to part ways since the other "feels happier now" NO, they DON'T it's plain as day how miserable Ingo is. He still makes the best out of his situation due to his rather outgoing and friendly personality but he is only 50% of what he used to be!

sorry about that rant needed to get that off my chest

You know I think this is why I tagged my last post about this topic saying I’d still rather not see Emmet at all in the games — it seems like it’s pretty clearly expressing this is a different time period (past or future? Idk, I see people making arguments for both but I’m not really hoping for one over the other either way), so for Emmet to appear in it, there would probably have to be more time-space displacement. And yeah, I wouldn’t want that either :(

I couldn’t place why I had initially felt pretty conflicted in the last post but yeah, this was why, I had forgotten the reason until you mentioned this haha.

I want what you want — to see them back together, but for there to be some indication that it is post-PLA, whether through words or character designs.

And I’d be more than happy to just get that resolution; if how things got to that point isn’t explained, fans can fill it in however they like. I’ve already liked seeing all the theories and fics and headcanons of Ingo making it back to Emmet and I’d be happy to see more. People can get so creative!!!!

But above this I’m hoping for nothing cause I doubt we’d get this in PLZA ^^;

#wayward’s asks #the thing with Lusamine and her husband #I’ve seen how that was adapted in the anime and I thought that was done better than how the games #did it #also yeah I agree it’s been shown pretty clearly that Ingo feels like he still needs to find a part of himself that he will not get in Hisui

[kiiwiigii]

Tag

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: After watching The Maze Runner during movie night, you have the bright idea of playing tag in the courtyard.

Warnings:

Fluff!

Alec being an obnoxious little shit.

Word Count: 300+

Requested?: Yes!

imagine y/n watching maze runner and deciding they want to play hide and seek tag with Alec or anyone

A/N: Okay, so this has been in my ask box for forever AND I'M SO SORRY. I've been trying to get a hold of the movie, since I've never seen it, but I can't find it online without paying for it. Sooo… I hope this is ok.

I could just tell that Alec was already regretting the last movie night. I enjoyed watching The Maze Runner, although I'm sure Alec would have been half asleep if he could have been. At least until he figured out another way to entertain himself by playing with my hair.  

But he was regretting it now, since I had roped him into playing hide and seek tag. The key to doing this? Jane. Contrary to popular belief, Jane wasn't all that scary. Unless she wanted to be. But seeing as I was her "little sister" I was rather spoiled. 

What I hadn't expected was for her to threaten Demetri and Felix into playing as well. And Jane threatening Demetri with pain of death should he use his gift during our little game was just icing on the cake. And everyone had to move at a human speed. Demetri and Felix thought that it could actually be kind of fun. More of a challenge since it wasn't something they were used to. Alec just looked defeated, and Jane was practically glowing since she had the chance to annoy her brother. 

We had all drawn straws to see who would be first, then the game was on. I had managed to escape everyone so far, but I had a suspicion that that was done on purpose. Or rather, Demetri and Felix were battling it out as to who could catch the other the most number of times. That was until Demetri decided to spice it up by tagging Jane. 

So now Alec was currently It, and I could practically feel the irritation rolling off of him in waves. I didn't dare move from my hiding spot in the bushes, although I knew he could hear my heartbeat racing. They all could. That was kind of the shitty part of being a human and playing games like this with vampires. 

Suddenly Alec was in front of me, smirking. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. 

"Tag you're it."  

And he slipped away while I was still processing what happened. 

"Wait!" I yelled, wriggling my way from under the brush. "Kisses don't count as a tag!" 

I heard Alec laugh from somewhere nearby. 

"That was cheating, Alec!!" 

I grinned, heading in his direction.  

Two could play this game. 

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfic #reader insert #ask and you shall recieve

[cha-melodius]

Year in Review: Favorite Lines

Tagged by @kiwiana-writes and @firenati0n, and I didn't originally think I'd do this because it's so fucking hard, but I was bored out of my skull and didn't feel like writing, so here goes. I waited until after creators were revealed for the TMFU exchange to post this because one of my favorite lines this year came from that fic. I could not limit to three or five or whatever so you get how many you get lmao.

If you're wondering why there are no lines from Nova, Baby, it's because 1) there are far too many, and 2) the ones I'd like to quote are mostly super spoilery. Read the fic, I guess! 😂

RULES: feel free to share your top three/five/however many favorite snippet(s)/line/quotes/paragraphs from your published fics (or wips!).

From Playing Cat and Mouse with the Light (Napollya, E, 12k)

Illya’s thaw toward him had been slow, like a reticent spring that warms a frozen lake so gradually that you don’t realize the ice underneath your feet has thinned until the catastrophic crack that sends you plunging into the depths. That’s what this feels like. Shattering.

From Step Into My Office, Baby (Firstprince, E, 2.4k)

Alex winds his fingers into Henry’s collar and buries his face in his neck, and it’s all Henry can do to hang on like he’s clinging to a life preserver in a storm. Except somehow, Alex is both the life preserver and the storm.

From All Comes Crashing (Napollya, E, 5.6k)

“I hate this,” Napoleon says, his voice thick with emotion, “but I love you, so I guess I’ll take it.”

From This Hell of a Season (Firstprince, E, 21k)

If he were a writer, he would write a thousand poems and never come close to capturing it; as a painter, he’d spend hours—days, weeks—on the curve of jaw and never be satisfied; even the finest photographer would still struggle with the fact that a single image could never capture the vibrancy of him.

(also from the same fic)

No matter where they are—at home in their flat in Langley or standing outside a hut in the middle of a Mexican forest—all he really needs is this. Alex in his arms. The heat of Alex’s skin pressed to his. Alex’s heart, beating in time with his.

From Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood (Firstprince, E, 20k)

In. Out. Henry’s hands are warm and soft where they grip his. Alex doesn’t know if he realizes he’s swiping his thumb over the back of Alex’s hand. In. Out. Their faces shift, bringing the bridges of their noses together. In. Out. Henry’s warm breath washes over his skin and paradoxically makes goosebumps rise on his arms. In. Out. The air he’s breathing in feels thicker, honeyed, heavy like the atmosphere before a storm. In. Out. “Excellently done,” Dr. Chen says, and the words yank him back to reality like coming to the surface after swimming underwater.

From Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile (Firstprince, M, 4.1k)

The press of Henry’s lips to his, the way their mouths slot together as easily as if they’ve been doing this for years, the zip of electricity that fizzles under his skin and spreads out to tingle in the tips of his fingers and toes… Alex has never been kissed like this, has never felt like this being kissed, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Like he’s falling. Oh. Fuck.

From Black Moon (Napollya, E, 6k)

If this was supposed to be a release, it didn’t work—or rather it did, but only in the way that releasing steam from an over-pressurized system prevents imminent explosion. The pressure is still there, the need is still there, in some ways worse than it was before.

From Will You Brie Mine? (Firstprince, T, 5.8k)

The longer they kiss, the more he realizes that there’s something else that’s different about this kiss: it feels, unmistakably, like the last first kiss he’s ever going to have.

From Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy (Firstprince, E, 5.4k)

“I think,” Henry gets out tightly, “that you’re stubborn—” Alex bites down on the tender skin at the crease of his hip. “—opinionated—” A slow lick up the length of his shaft. “—arrogant—” A hot breath, ghosting over the crown. “—uncouth—” Alex curls his fingers, and Henry whimpers as his spine arches up off the bed. “—and if you don’t get inside me right now, I’m going to stonewall all of your treaty negotiations for the next month.”

From Something To Be Proud Of (Firstprince, M, 3.4k)

No one jumps out to call him out for being an impostor. Henry offers him a careful smile, then turns back to his work like he knows Alex needs a moment to himself. He lets his fingers rub over the surface of the pin, feeling the little enamel ridges, and something settles under his skin, like an itch he hadn’t even been aware of until it was gone.

From Always Where I Need To Be (Firstprince, T, 5.5k)

He thinks about how Henry is the last person he wants to talk to at night, and the first person he wants to see in the morning. He thinks about how making Henry laugh has become a significant reason that Alex does anything these days. He thinks about how he’d dropped everything to make sure Henry was all right, and how he’d do it again in an instant. He thinks about how he can’t really get enough of how Henry smells, the way the clean, grassiness that Alex always kind of assumed was part of his cologne had clung to him on a day when he hadn’t even gotten out of bed. He thinks about how perfect Henry had felt in his arms, and how he’d put up with a lifetime of his arm going numb every night if it meant Henry was sleeping next to him.

From Cold Light (Lokius, M, 3.7k)

“Tell me about your mother,” Mobius says. “If you want.” Loki smiles softly at him, and there, under the breathtaking northern lights, he tells a story.

#rwrb fic #napollya fic #fic year in review #rwrb #napollya #tmfu #firstprince #firstprince fic #favorite lines

[scarletteye]

More crazy/obsessed/yandere Childe

Everybody seemed to enjoy the little post I made where I compared crazy Childe and crazy Scara. So here is another part from my fic that I wanted to use in the original post. He's crazy here, but I figured he was crazier in the "Don't you dare run" moment. Sheesh.

Once again, I just like using his actual name. Ajax mmm

From:

Ornament of Heart, Chapter 16

Evening fell over Snezhnaya fairly quickly. You patiently waited until you saw his carriage arrive on the winding path, and then you rushed to the hallway, choosing to wait for him there along with the maids. You hadn’t done something like that ever since you returned from Fontaine, and as soon as Childe laid his eyes on you, his lips opened in surprise.

He didn’t expect to be greeted by you, but his shock soon morphed into a warm smile. He ignored the maids, choosing to walk over to your side first. “Mila, good evening,” he beamed. “How was your day?”

Your eyes narrowed at him; your jaw tightened as you observed the innocent glint in his eyes. He seemed to be in a good mood after work, so at least you didn’t have to feel bad about interrogating him. If he came home depressed, you would have never dared to question him. You resented him, but you didn’t want him to suffer. Avoiding his panic attacks had long become your problem.

“Weird, actually” you answered.

“Hm? What happened?”

“I wanted to go on a walk. But to my surprise, all the doors of the mansion were locked, and the maids wouldn’t let me out. Know anything about that?”

He raised one of his brows, tilting his head playfully as he gaged your serious expression. Your heart sank as Ajax’s lips twisted into a smirk. “A walk? In this snow?” he chuckled.

“I’m being serious,” you retaliated. “Why am I being locked indoors?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ajax said. His tone was cheerful, borderline forced, as his eyes squished closed. This overly positive face of his was always the most difficult to argue with, and you were sure he knew that. “We just returned from a mission where we angered a few noblemen. It’s safer to keep the doors locked.”

“Isn’t the mansion guarded?”

“Of course,” he answered simply. “But I don’t want you to run off on your own.”

Your mouth opened in shock; all of your anger thawed as you gawked at Ajax and his overly cheerful façade. He cupped your face, handling you gently despite his hold on you seeming unbreakable. “I’d rather avoid that. Mila.”

“You- what are you saying?” you breathed out. “You’re actually locking me indoors? On purpose? What? Is this some kind of punishment-” you stopped talking as Ajax’s hold on your chin turned harsher. He practically pinched it, digging his fingers into your cheeks. Your heart staggered, reaching your throat in a fleet of panic.

“Mila. Am I wrong to believe that you don’t want to be around me right now?” he questioned. “Last time we were in such a predicament, you ran off on your own in Fontaine. If you can do that in a foreign, unfamiliar country, then I don’t see why my idea sounds far-fetched.”

He finally opened his eyes. Their deep blue hue struck you. Despite his tone being overly sweet, his eyes were completely dead. Lacking any empathy or cheerfulness that oozed from his voice. “You can’t go outside,” he repeated sweetly, pinching your chin with more vigor and leaning his face closer. As if he were cooing at a dog. Your breath hitched.

You jerked your face out of his hold, feeling pain linger on your skin. You took a step back. The maids were mute as they watched your exchange, and his Fatui servants pretended as if they weren’t listening, choosing to lower their heads instead.

Silence nested inside the hallway, and Ajax slowly lowered his hands to his sides. He seemed completely unapologetic as he delivered the news, and you found yourself frozen in his mercy. “If you think this will somehow make me warmer towards you-”

Ajax tilted his head at you, shutting you up as his eyes turned narrower. You were not given space to argue. This wasn’t the first time he used his Harbinger authority over you. He used this same type of tone on you right after proposing, when he practically told you that you didn’t have a choice. But he had never done something like this within the walls of your home.

“This is just until I asses that the air is clear,” he calmed you. “Give it one or two weeks until the dust from Fontaine settles, and if you give me good reasons to believe that you won’t walk out without warning, we can negotiate.”

Your jaw dropped. He didn’t even say that the doors were guaranteed to unlock. He said you will negotiate, meaning nothing was certain.

Cold sweat broke out on your nape, and your eyes turned big with horror. This was unexpected. Ajax never gave you reasons to believe that he would lock you indoors. He never acted so harsh with you. What changed? Did he know that you knew his true motives? Was he sick of your coldness?

“Ajax…” you blurted out. “You can’t be serious. Why are you doing this? Because I wandered outside on my own in Fontaine? That’s… that’s completely insane. Do you hear yourself?”

“The doors have been locked for a whole week, mila. Ever since we returned,” he said. “I fail to see why they would pose an issue to you now. Where were you even hoping to go in this blizzard?”

“What the hell? Can’t I take a walk in the garden? Don’t I deserve fresh air?”

“If you want fresh air, comrade…” he smiled; his lips stretched wide and he leaned down to your level, almost taunting you with his sickeningly sweet voice. “Step onto the balcony or sit by an open window.”

Your eyes turned wider, fully grasping Ajax’s words. All this time you spend ignoring him and treating him coldly, you never stopped to think how he might reciprocate. You thought you wouldn’t care if he got angry at you, but you didn’t expect his anger to turn into this.

Now you were more than aware that he controlled everything and everybody in this house. He had plenty of ways of making you regret your pettiness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Isn't he so dreamy? lmaooo he really just said "You want air? Then open the window tf?"

Once again, you can find my fic on ao3!

I'll post my second fave crazy Scaramouche moment next. Or maybe more Childe content if you guys want. Lemme know!

#ao3 writer #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #childe tartagalia #childe x reader #yandere childe #ao3 author #childe is crazy #but why he kinda...

[anzynai]

Study Break!

Riddle & Ace & Chenya (TWST)

a/n: WOOOO another twst fic done! and its lee riddle!! surprisingly enough, i actually got a lot of lee riddle requests (which i dont blame u nom nom) so im planning to write those requests in the future. still, here i combined two of them so i hope u dont mind! this was actually meant to be posted much sooner but well.. got sidetracked. plus, i wanted to write another fic before i posted this one. (that did not happen) ANYWAY, enjoy!

summary: when ace is forced to study with riddle, he finds that things may not be so bad after-all when a friend of riddle’s comes to visit!

word count: 1.5k

——

“Urghhh..” Ace groaned to himself. “This sucks..” Slouching over his papers, he wanted nothing more than to just go back to his room and sleep for ten years.

See, it was his fault, wasn’t it? That he had to waste three hours of his day on schoolwork instead of doing literally anything else. It’s true that he did get a.. well, less than favorable score on his test, but no! What he blamed himself on was the fact he had accidentally let Riddle see it!

And now, he was here, in the Heartslabyul Lounge, textbooks as far as the eye can see (or really, only covering the table) and Riddle drilling lesson after lesson into his brain. He was sure that if he stayed there a second longer, his brain would quite literally melt.

He hated that Riddle was actually a really good tutor. This wasn’t Ace’s first time getting a tutoring session with the Housewarden, despite the other’s busy schedule. But.. he had to be in the mood to study, you know?

“Do you get it, Ace? This is important,” Riddle asked, causing another groan to pass through the freshman’s lips.

“Yes… but..” He said, knowing full well that he hadn't been listening to Riddle for the past five minutes. “Can’t we just take a small break?”

“Not when you haven’t been listening to me at all. Do you really think you’re deserving of a break?” Riddle narrowed his eyes, his arms crossed. Ace, on the other hand, averted his eyes after getting through his initial shock.

“So you noticed..”

“Of course I did.”

“I just can’t focus! It’s just one test. I’ll do better on the next one.” Ace shrugged, looking out the window. He could be doing other things right now. Should he just.. say he needs to go to the bathroom and just leave? No, it’s Riddle. He would wait until Ace got back and punish him. And no one wanted to be on the receiving end of Riddle’s punishments.

“But you didn’t do well on this one. Tell me, what will you do if this material shows up on the final exam?” Riddle questioned, doubtful.

“Eh..”

“Hehe, playing teacher?” A voice suddenly cut out, startling the two. Ace jerked his head over towards the source to see.. a floating head?!

“Ah! It’s you!” What was his name? Arte… Pinky..? Huh???

“Chenya,” Riddle sighed, then looked up, a glare directed at him, rather than Ace. “Stop using your signature spell to scare others.”

“Hehe.” Chenya winked, then the rest of his body appeared.

“Freaky…” Ace mumbled to himself, still recovering from his heart attack earlier. How did he get in here anyway? When did he get here?

“What are you doing here?” Riddle asked the RSA student.

“Can’t I just visit my friends~?” Chenya put his hands behind his head, casually.

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m assuming you’ve already met with Trey then?”

“Nope,” Chenya started, popping the p. “I actually thought I was gonna see you two together. You two used to be like, attached at the hip.”

“We were not.” Riddle looked away.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatcha doing?” He said, half-walking, half-skipping over to the table. Sevens, him and Floyd would get along swimmingly— no pun intended.

“As you can see, I’m tutoring one of my freshmen. He got an unacceptable grade on his last test and I am going to ensure that doesn’t happen again,” Riddle explains, gesturing at the textbooks sprawled about on the table.

“Way to put all my business out there, Housewarden..” Ace muttered under his breath. Riddle pointedly ignored him.

“Looks like he’s been working hard. I heard him ask for a break! Why not give the little freshie one?”

“Little freshie?!” Ace can hardly be grateful for Chenya trying to convince the housewarden to give Ace a break when he’s called that! Still.. a break would be nice.

Riddle looks between the two, a hopeful glint in each of their eyes.

Then, he sighed. “Fine. I will permit silent reading for ten minutes,” He responded, at last, handing him an alchemy textbook.

“Eh?! That’s not a break at all!” Ace exclaimed, before he could help it. He withdrew slightly at the glare that Riddle sent him.

“Yeah. I mean, like, something away from studying. Come on, the Chenya is visiting, do you think I’d wanna watch you two studying?” Chenya whined, throwing his arms out. He seemed very.. mischievous. Clearly, this was not his first rodeo.

“And what do you suggest?” Riddle raised a brow.

“I know!” Chenya declared, like he had been waiting for it, then he set his sights on Ace. Ace startled when Chenya started walking towards him, getting closer and cupping his ear to whisper into it.

Ace lit up while Riddle grimaced. Ace looked at the housewarden, newfound fervor in his demeanor. Ace had a mission and he could tell Riddle was not looking forward to finding out what it was.

“What are you two scheming over there?” Riddle demanded and Chenya shook, like he forgot the other was there. Then, the same fervor was in his eyes.

“Get him!” Chenya shouted, suddenly, as if Ace were a soldier or a knight or… something. Still, Ace obliged, running to pounce Riddle. Riddle didn’t seem to stop him, even though he very well could have, so the freshman could tell that he was curious about where this was going to go.

Then, Ace wiggled his fingers on Riddle’s sides and Chenya joined in, tickling Riddle’s ribs and armpits.

“H-huh?! Unhahand me!”

“No way! You were right, he is ticklish!” Ace exclaimed, almost incredulously.

“Hehe, isn’t he?” Chenya giggled. And that’s when it seemed to click in Riddle’s mind that that’s what they were whispering about. Riddle bit his lip, trying to resist but it was all over before he even began.

“Lehehehet gohoho!” Riddle laughed, an unwilling blush rising to his cheeks. Ignoring all that Riddle was, he looked so.. cute and innocent here.

“Nuh uh! This is how I want to spend my break!” Ace started poking his fingers in between Riddle’s ribs, loudly and obnoxiously singing some classical music, like Riddle was a piano. He knew he would probably die later, but… it was worth it.

When he hit a particular sensitive spot on his ribs, Riddle actually snorted. Yep. Definitely worth it.

Chenya was squeezing Riddle’s thighs, lightly grazing the tops of his knees all the while.

“You twohohoho, stahahap!” Riddle cried, squirming and trying to grab his magic pen from his pocket. That is, until Ace started scratching at Riddle’s waist, grazing his sides just barely, but enough to drive him mad.

“No way! Not when I found out my housewarden is,” Ace started, teasingly. “…this ticklish~” He enunciated his words with a poke to his side, laughing at how Riddle jolted each time.

“Teehee, he is just as ticklish as he was when he was little! So cuteee!” Chenya cooed, his slender fingers exploring Riddle’s tummy and bellybutton.

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Riddle screeched, his face bright red and Ace wasn’t really sure whether it was from embarrassment or anger. Maybe both. Maybe this shouldn’t go on much longer, he thought, thinking back about the times Riddle had used his unique magic on him. Riddle was better about it now, but he definitely still had his limits.

“Seems like you’re having fun?” A voice called out of seemingly nowhere. All three heads jerked towards the sound, spotting Trey in the doorway.

“Trehehehey! Mahahahake theheheem stohop!” Riddle giggled, finally giving up on trying to break free as he looked at Trey who chuckled in response.

“Alright, don’t you guys think he’s had enough?” Trey asked, walking closer to them but never actually stopping. Ace looked at his house warden and backed away. Chenya got in a few more pokes in before he stopped, as well, deciding to jog over to Trey.

“Trey! Your best friend is here!” He exclaimed, pointing at himself and winking. A fond smile made its way onto Trey’s face and Ace offhandedly wonders about the history between the three.

It is almost silent for a few moments, save for Riddle exhaling slowly and deeply.

“I hope that made for a sufficient break.” Riddle glared at the two, but especially Ace. Likely for giving into Chenya’s whims, which.. fair, but shouldn’t he be more angry at Chenya who suggested tickling him in the first place?!

“It definitely did, Housewarden!” Ace admitted, pushing any fear of retaliation that he might’ve had, recalling the moments just now. If Riddle hadn’t collared him, he must be safe, right? And well, it’s Riddle. Riddle would never do something so petty like tickle him back.

“Whatever. Let’s just get back to learning. And there will be no breaks until we are finished,” The Housewarden declares, sitting up to pick up one of the textbooks on the table. However, he scooted closer towards Ace, so that they were more diagonal than across.

Ace decided not to think about it too much. That is, until Riddle began poking him in the side every time he lost focus or got an answer wrong.

He supposed that this was what he deserved, so he didn't say anything. At least pokes in the side were all it was…

He shivered at the thought of Riddle finding out about how embarrassingly ticklish he was, but he’ll save that for another day! Now, he just has to get through this tutoring session… Ughhhh…

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland tickle #twst tickling #ace trappola #chenya #riddle rosehearts #ticklish!riddle #lee!riddle #ler!ace #ler!chenya #tickling #tickle fic #jai’s fic

[thorin-apologist]

the big debut

sooo ive been writing this bagginshield fic on and off for the past 2.5 years, it isnt quite finished but im going to start editing and posting chapters very soon (expect month long hiatuses because im terrible) but i just wanna get it out there!!! so heres the prologue, which will be posted to ao3 along with chapter 1 whenever i finish editing it. if so much as one person likes this shit im gonna be spurred on to work faster. ANYWAYS heres the prologue under the cut!! (approx 2.7k words, no TW just slight angst)

Prologue

“You’d think I asked my cousins to die and leave behind a parentless child,” Bilbo said bitterly to Balin. He was getting quite sick of Thorin Oakenshield hastily leaving any room Bilbo walked into. In this instance, it was one of Erebor’s libraries.

“He doesn’t resent your decision to leave us,” said Balin as he led Bilbo to the section of books written in Westron. “In fact, I think he’s more ashamed of how upset he is – he thinks it is you, and only you, who should be allowed to grieve at this time.”

“Sounds ridiculous enough, so you’re probably right.” Thorin’s strange, stubborn ways never failed to exasperate Bilbo, even after one and a half years of knowing him. “So, is he just going to hide from me until I’m gone?”

“I’ll talk some sense into him, laddie.”

Bilbo perused the shelves with Balin at his side, flicking through books and handing Balin the ones that caught his eye. Although he had to force himself to skip over the thick, heavy, leatherbound volumes, he was determined to take as much of the Lonely Mountain he could carry back to the Shire with him, regarding all his chosen books and keepsakes as his real fourteenth share.

On the 22nd of September, just days ago, Gandalf had stopped by the Lonely Mountain to wish Bilbo a happy birthday - though of course, this was not his sole motive for coming. He joined the dwarven birthday celebrations, eating and drinking and singing with them all through the night, waiting until Bilbo’s merry mood began to dissipate with exhaustion before taking him aside and extinguishing any residual cheer left in him.

“I am sorry that I must dampen your spirits on a day of celebration, but there will be no right moment fit for this news and it’s best that I get it over with sooner rather than later.” Gandalf paused, waiting for the sleepy smile to slide off Bilbo’s face. “Upon my last visit to the Shire, I learned the news that your cousin Drogo and his wife Primula had drowned in a boating accident not long before my arrival. This was mere months after their son Frodo was born. He was taken in by the Brandybucks and will live at Brandy Hall indefinitely.” Gandalf fell silent again, but not for nearly as long as Bilbo needed to process the blow from this information. Gandalf’s next words echoed from far away: “Today is his first birthday - he shares the day with you. He would have a better life at Bag End…”

Bilbo had viewed the Shire as something he would ultimately return to when it pulled hard enough at his heart, but until that moment came, it wouldn’t hurt to stay in Erebor a little longer. However, a month had turned into two months, and two into three, and three into ten, and still he had not felt compelled to leave. It was only at this horrible news that he realised that life went on without him there - hadn’t stopped in his absence, waiting patiently for him to return at his leisure. In the end, it was the grief of losing two dear relatives, the thought of the orphaned boy, and the guilt of completely missing something so important that prompted his journey back to the Shire.

*

Balin must’ve done as he’d promised and given Thorin a talking to, because he finally came out of hiding and approached Bilbo just before his official send-off the next day. It was dawn, so the Lonely Mountain’s vast foyer was empty apart from him and Thorin. They faced each other in dim light by the towering entrance gates, Bilbo with an armful of books that Thorin narrowed his eyes at.

“Haven’t you outgrown burglary, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo smiled at Thorin’s folded arms, knowing he was not in any real trouble. “Maybe not. Why, going to banish me for it?”

Thorin laughed softly and dropped the stern façade. “Take whatever you desire. Erebor is forever indebted to you.”

Bilbo’s bare feet shuffled sheepishly on the smooth stone floor. He always felt awkward whenever anyone acknowledged his part in reclaiming Erebor. His actions had led to victory, but also to devastation for so many people, and the latter was what he remembered whenever it was brought up. He tried to push it from his mind, not wanting to dwell on it during his last moments inside this place. “Don’t tempt me, I might take something expensive.”

Thorin asked questions about Bilbo’s route home, whether Gandalf would accompany him for the whole journey, and if he had enough food and supplies to last them both. None of these things warranted a private conversation before the rest of the company came down, but Bilbo was glad for it to be this way.

Despite his close friendship with Thorin, they had rarely been alone together over these past ten months. Thorin was either out on regular visits to Dale and Lake Town, overseeing Erebor’s reconstruction, or being forced to sit down and look over what Bilbo liked to call ‘kingly paperwork’, which mainly consisted of reviewing outdated laws and renewing old trade agreements. Thorin worked hard, but for all his work, Bilbo knew that his gold-sick mistakes still plagued him. In any case, it was in Thorin’s nature to be among his people, joining in the grunt work instead of lounging on a throne and ordering others around. Bilbo enjoyed helping with the paperwork when he could, usually accompanied by Balin and sometimes Dain Ironfoot – Thorin’s most trusted royal advisors. On many occasions, Bilbo was invited to dine in the King’s private hall, meant only for royalty and any desired guests. This party usually consisted of Thorin, Fili and Kili, their mother Dis, and often Dwalin, Balin, and Dain. Bilbo would’ve liked to have seen Thorin outside of these settings, but this was virtually impossible. Now that he was leaving however, he knew he would cherish all the time he got to spend with Thorin’s family and the rest of the company.

The small talk drew to a natural close and a short silence fell. Thorin broke it.

“Do you have any intention of returning?” Thorin said it casually enough but refused to meet Bilbo’s eye. A book began to slip from under Bilbo’s arm. He caught it and wedged it back into place. Thorin added, “It will be a sore loss for Erebor’s counsel.”

“Balin will keep you right,” said Bilbo, stalling as he thought of how best to respond to the original question. “I would hate to never return. I hate that I’m leaving now.”

Thorin brightened. “So, you will come back? When you are able, I mean.”

Now it was Bilbo’s turn to avoid Thorin’s eye. “It’s not that simple. It was irresponsible of me to stay so long. Really it was irresponsible to come in the first place.” Thorin nodded, his eyebrows sinking back down. “Not that I regret it,” said Bilbo quickly, “No, not at all. But I have family; obligations…” Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek. “And I have already let them down by not being there. The funeral would’ve been months ago. And the boy, he needs—”

“Yes, of course. I know,” said Thorin gently, quelling Bilbo’s anxious rambling. “I know you must go back to your family. It was selfish of me to hope for anything else.”

On the contrary, it warmed Bilbo to know that Thorin Oakenshield wanted him to stay. A bolder Bilbo might’ve made it known to Thorin that he felt equally selfish, and that if Thorin elaborated on what he hoped, it might just persuade him to abandon his plans. But this conversation was already looking to become uncomfortable. Bilbo needed easy, clean goodbyes today.

Luckily, it was at that moment that the chattering of Fili and Kili began to echo into the foyer. They soon emerged from a connected hallway, accompanied by Dis, whom Bilbo had come to like very much. She had silver-streaked dark hair and a strong nose, like her brother Thorin, but she shared the same kind brown eyes as Kili. However, her beard was by far the most impressive of all her family; tamed, glossy, and styled in intricate braids.

“Knew he’d be the first one down. Thorin! Changed his mind yet?” Fili called as they all approached. Thorin rolled his eyes.

As soon as they came to the place Bilbo stood, Fili and Kili pulled him into a group hug, making him drop most of his books. Bilbo decided drop the rest so that he could reach up and put an arm around each of their shoulders.

These two had come especially close to death during last year’s war, as had Thorin. In the recovery tents as the battle died away, Bilbo sat at their bedsides with Dis, who had been a part of the army from the Iron Hills but had not managed to get to her family during the fight. During this time, she had opened up to Bilbo, telling him stories about Fili and Kili as children, and some surprising tales about Thorin in his youth. Bilbo learned about Frerin, her and Thorin’s brother who had been killed in battle before he could come of age, and of Dis’ late husband, who had died alongside him. It was then that Bilbo realised that her sons and Thorin were the only family she had left, and how close she had come to losing everything.

“Tauriel sends her love,” said Kili as he and Fili broke away, “she and Legolas are working on repealing the Elvenkingdom’s law against marriage between dwarves and elves. You might run into them in Mirkwood, actually – if they don’t end up banished again.”

“If I come past the Elvenking’s Halls, I’m marching inside and giving Thranduil a piece of my mind on the matter,” said Bilbo.

Dis stepped forward, smiling at him. “You are sweet, Bilbo,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It has been a joy to have you here. Our family will never forget what you have done for us.” Fili and Kili nodded in agreement.

“It has been an honour to be allowed to stay here for so long,” said Bilbo graciously, choosing again to ignore the uncomfortable latter statement.

“Don’t be silly, I am reluctantly allowing you to leave us,” she said. Bilbo smiled.

Dwalin and Balin came down next. Bilbo pretended not to notice Balin’s overly wet eyes, not wanting to copy them. Next came Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. It had been Bofur whom Bilbo had ended up spending the most time around during his stay, as he was simply wonderful to be around; always finding ways to make Bilbo laugh after such a dark time. He gripped Bofur especially hard when they hugged, receiving hearty pats on the back in return.

Oin and Gloin soon joined the throng, and finally Ori, Dori, and Nori. Now that everyone was there, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Dwalin and Dori headed over to either side of the gates and hauled the chains that opened them. The gates slowly parted outwards, revealing the bare grounds stretched out before the Mountain. The only things that had been added since the battle were some hastily built pens and huts dotted here and there. Mist obscured the horizon and muted the low-hanging sun’s rays.

Just outside the gates, Gandalf was standing by a cart attached to two horses and laden with all of Bilbo’s things. Bilbo and the company walked forwards into the chilly autumn morning. He reached the cart and loaded the last of his books. Gandalf looked down his long, crooked nose at him with sympathy in his eyes. Without saying anything, Gandalf gently patted Bilbo on the shoulder and boarded the cart. Bilbo turned around to face the fourteen dwarves, who were already huddling around him. They all took it in turns to embrace him (with some coming back for seconds), wishing him good luck and a safe journey.

When it was Thorin’s turn, he murmured in Bilbo’s ear as he held him, “Please write.” Bilbo nodded into the thick furs of Thorin’s cloak. They came apart for a moment. Then, to Bilbo’s shock, Thorin brushed his forehead against Bilbo’s. It was brief, but unmistakeable.

He heard a murmur from the group and hid his face as he climbed into the cart. Bilbo had been around dwarves long enough to know the gravity of that gesture. Bilbo valiantly tried to maintain his composure as he faced his dwarves for the last time.

“I will visit, if I can,” said Bilbo to the group, though he was looking at Thorin. Maybe it wasn’t as impossible as he had been telling himself; he might be able to find a babysitter once Frodo was old enough. Another impulse of irresponsibility might attack him again, and he could find himself running out the door without a handkerchief or a second thought. He would have to try a bit harder to fight these impulses now that he would have a child to look after. But if the last year and a half had taught Bilbo anything, it was that he could never be certain of what he might do next.

“You’d better,” Dwalin growled, and many of the others agreed in mutters.

“And likewise,” said Bilbo, his voice dangerously close to breaking, “you are all welcome at Bag End. Anytime.” As soon as you can, as often as you like, as many of you as Bag End can fit.

Gandalf took the reins and started the horses, guiding the cart away from the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo tried to keep his gaze on the dwarves, trying to burn their faces into his memory as they shrank away from him, but found that his eyes began to well. So, he twisted back around in his seat and faced the road ahead.

*

As soon as all the formalities regarding Frodo's adoption were dealt with, he had written a letter to Thorin, recounting his journey home, and greatly emphasising that he would love for them to meet again soon. The local postman would've surely fainted if Bilbo handed him a letter addressed to Erebor, so Bilbo entrusted his letter to Gandalf, who claimed he would be flitting to and from the East and West on ‘business,’ and would make sure it was delivered in good time.

Months later, Gandalf returned with Thorin's strangely formal response; that he would like nothing more, but he had to prioritise his duties as king and the ongoing restoration of Erebor. Bilbo understood of course - he had his own duties, what with being something of a parent, to be getting on with. Instead, he kept Thorin up to date with lengthy letters containing details of his contrastingly quiet life in the Shire, and many questions about the wellbeing of the other dwarves and what life as King under the Mountain was like. Sometimes he asked for advice on bringing up his nephew, as he knew Thorin had experience with Fili and Kili.

Bilbo wished for the same level of enthusiasm and detail in Thorin's replies but did not get it. In fact, each letter Bilbo received became shorter and more impassive than the last. Each time, Thorin found excuses to turn down Bilbo's (now somewhat persistent) attempts to reunite, whether it be in Erebor or Hobbiton. Bilbo couldn't fathom why this was. Thorin had earnestly requested that Bilbo write to him. Surely, he was not so busy that he couldn't write more than a few sentences. And if he was, why couldn't he get one of the others to write for him? After four years of this, Bilbo grew tired of how one-sided their friendship had become, and let frustration get the better of him. Halfway through a letter wishing Thorin a happy 200th birthday, he switched his tone and stated that Thorin need not reply if he no longer had the time of day for him.

Six more years passed, and he had not received another letter.

*****

aaaand because theres absolutely no way you could guess whats actually gonna happen in this fic just from the prologue, here’s a cheeky synopsis!

After years of lost contact, Thorin turns up on Bilbo’s doorstep with an awkward greeting and a dire warning. Upon learning about Gandalf’s uncharacteristically sinister plans regarding the ring, the hobbit and the dwarf king decide to take matters into their own hands. But are their hands the safest ones to carry the ring? (Spoiler: absolutely not).

#hope this at least intrigues someone lmao #if ive used a word/punctuation wrong PLEASE let me know i havent gone to school in 3 years #my fic #bagginshield #the hobbit #lotr

[bookwormwolf]

In honour of it being Eli Vanto's birthday a couple days ago, and mine a week ago, I present ✨️birthday thranto✨️. Fem! Eli (also posted on ao3 under bookwormwolf, I also have a lot of fem! Kallus Kalluzeb fics over there too 🫶🏼)

It's Eli's birthday and she's drunk. Self indulgent (fem) Eli Thranto fic as it was my birthday last week!! Also, Thrawn is giving sugar daddy vibes. Like think Dante Russo in King of Wrath. Also her full name is Eliana, but she mostly just goes by Eli. I don't apologise for the smut at the end. Please don't judge me, lmao. Also I wrote this playing my Thranto playlist on repeat, especially Dress (Taylor Swift), Shameless (Camilla Cabello), and 3.15 Breath (Russ, orchestra version).

...

It was Eli's lifeday. She'd spent the afternoon with Thrawn, on leave in Coruscant, at a new exhibition at Thrawn's favourite museum. He'd taken her for lunch afterwards, at a restaurant her Lieutenant wages definitely couldn't have afforded. They had shared a mix of small dishes: seafood from Naboo, jogan fruit salad, and roast pomork, just to name a few. It was so unlike the usual meal-packs and and rations that they ate aboard the Chimaera. Eli supposed her relationship with Thrawn did have a few perks. To any passerby who may have known them, it was simply an Admiral and his Lieutenant sharing a meal. Well, that was until Thrawn revealed he'd also bought her a small cake, just enough for two. It had pink frosting, her favourite. The waitress had given Eli a wink as they left, saying something about 'her man treating her right'. It felt odd. To the outsiders, they were just a couple. Eli and Thrawn. No ranks, or loyalties (other than to each other).

Afterwards, they had retired back to their hotel, as Thrawn had some work to do that would last into the evening. Being her Grand Admiral's aide, Eli had booked the swanky top floor adjoining suites. They had their own bedrooms for the shore leave, of course. It was all very appropriate. The room had even come with an office, for Thrawn to use for his meetings. She really was a good aide. (They'd fucked in both of the beds. 'Eli's room', only had a double, rather than an Emperor-sized bed Thrawn had, so they used 'Thrawn's bed' to sleep in. Oh, and Thrawn had fucked her over the desk in the office. Twice actually. They'd only been here two nights.) Eli was glad the suite had tinted floor to ceiling windows. The Grand Admiral needed privacy whilst he was working, of course.

Eli had decided to spend the evening going for a meal and some drinks with Faro, Hammerly and Pyrondi. Make it a girls night, whilst the Chimaera's crew were off-ship. It was a warm night, so Eli had chosen a floral pattern maxi dress to wear, and a pair of heels. She'd gotten changed whilst Thrawn was on his first holocall, waiting until he was done to show him the outfit. They'd been in causal wear in the morning, but Thrawn had put his Admiral uniform top back on for the meetings. His sleep pants as bottoms, hidden from view, made him look rather goofy. It was cute.

"What d'ya think, darlin'?" She'd asked him, emerging from her suite. Thrawn's eyes darkened, as she did a little twirl. Eli had curled her hair, and touched up her makeup. She wore a dark red lipstick that she knew Thrawn really liked. She felt rather sexy, if she did say so herself.

"Are you sure you cannot be tempted to stay here, Eli?" His eyes roamed her body, before settling on her cleavage. "I'd quite enjoying peeling the dress off you."

Eli ignored the flush on her cheeks at the compliment. She let Thrawn pull her into his (sleep-pant clad) lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pressed his lips to her throat. Thrawn's lips trailed across Eli's neck, her breath hitching with a groan as he explored. His mouth worked up her jaw, before capturing her mouth for a kiss. His hands grazed her hips, settling down on her bottom. The kiss deepened, their stolen moment seeming to last forever. Eli was about to complain that Thrawn was creasing the dress she had not long ironed, when he pressed something hard against her. Stifling a moan, she ground her hips against him.

"We can't do this now, the speeder taxi will be here soon." Eli tried to protest, but she knew she was useless to fend against Thrawn. He'd ate her out just that morning, dragging two orgasms out of her - her first lifeday present of the day from him, he'd called it. She'd worn a short little nightdress to bed that she'd bought recently, and Thrawn was obsessed with it. It was blush pink, mostly see-through, with little embroidered flowers. Came with a silky red thong. It left very little to the imagination. Well, nothing, actually. He'd also ordered breakfast in bed, had answered the door, gratiously thanking the waiter who had brought the food up. There was easily enough for two, Chiss had quite the appetite, afterall. Eli would make sure all his expenses were paid on time.

Thrawn simply looked amused, "Forgive me Lieutenant, I can't help myself."

"Why, Grand Admiral, I dare say you're showin' me a bit of favoritism".

Arousal shone in Thrawn's eyes, and he captured Eli's lips again. His fingers trailed the ruffle on the front of her dress, toying with it as he ground himself against her. She was going to need new panties, if he kept this up. A moment later, Eli's comm pinged. She pulled herself off Thrawn's lap, reluctantly, as she checked her communicator. The obvious tent in his trousers gave her a little bit of satisfaction.

"That's them, speeder is outside," Eli said, "don't have too much fun without me, Sir." She eyed the bulge with longing, adding the honorific for a little bit of teasing. He had about twenty minutes to his next meeting. Eli tried not to think about how he'd be spending them.

Thrawn grinned slightly, "Never, my dear. When you return, I'll ensure that every touch, every moment, will be... exquisitely unforgettable. I haven't given you your main gift yet, after all".

Dank farrik that man was smooth. Ah, kriff, now she wanted to stay. Maybe tease Thrawn under his desk, just as a repayment for this morning. The comm pinged again, no doubt someone telling her to hurry up. With a groan, she placed one last kiss on Thrawn's lips, before dashing out. She'd probably come back to him watching some old military holodrama, or reading the book he'd bought himself in the museum today. Yes, Eli told herself, eating steak and drinking wine with her friends was better than both of those options. Leaving Thrawn in the office, she grabbed her coat and handbag, making her way out of the suite. Calling the turbo-lift to the reception, Eli checked her comm again. Pyrondi had been the one to message her.

*Vanto we're here. Red speeder, dock three*

*Vanto come on.*

*Vanto you're the one who made the reservation for 1830 hours*

*Vanto, what are you doing?????*

*VANTO*

Eli sighed, and typed a message back.

*Sorry, Pyrondi. I'm in the turbolift. Just needed to show Thrawn something before I left. He's got meetings all evening.*

It wasn't technically a lie. A message instantly pinged back.

*Thank kark Vanto, we were worried you weren't coming. He can't even give you your life day off? I'd request a transfer if I were you*

And then, *I'm joking, don't tell him I said that*

Eli chuckled to herself. Oh Thrawn had given her the day off alright. They weren't to know that though. She suspected that her friends suspected something was going on between her and Thrawn, but she was content for them to think it was just a little crush.

*I won't. I promise*

Eli decided she might actually. Thrawn thought it was funny. The lift pinged and Eli reached the speeder-taxi floor, heading to dock three. She found the speeder easily, and slid in. Luckily it was a droid taxi, so they didn't have a nagging driver annoyed at her.

"Sorry girls, you know what Thrawn's like. He has to inspect everything when I'm clocking off. Er, inspect the schedule I mean."

Faro laughed, turning to face Eli. The Commodore was sat in the front two seats with Pyrondi, leaving Eli to sit in the vacant seat next to Hammerly.

"Does he even know it's your lifeday? I've never seen him celebrate his." She said.

Eli really tried not to think about Thrawn's head between her thighs earlier in the morning. Oh he knew it was her lifeday alright.

"Yes, he took me to dinner this afternoon. He has to approve my leave, remember? Besides, I book everything. Sort'a takes the suprise out of it. And, he does celebrate. He just doesn't want a party with the full Chimaera."

Eli supposed it was only fair that Thrawn spent the morning with his mouth on her cunt after the present she'd got him for his lifeday. He'd been grateful for the new extensive tea collection she'd bought him. Even more with the sexy little lingerie set she'd changed into, late at night. They'd both been exhausted and aching at the early meeting the next morning. Thank the stars Eli's uniform up to her neck. She had been covered in marks, and it was uncomfortable to sit, though Thrawn looked perfectly composed. It wasn't fair.

Anyway, it was her lifeday today, not his. Hammerly's amused grin broke Eli out of her thoughts. "How did you get a reservation for the restaurant, anyway? I've heard it's supposed to be booked up ages in advance."

Eli shrugged, "I booked it for Thrawn and Colonel Yularen to have a meeting once. When I booked again, I'm assuming they just thought it would be a similar party. Perks of being an aide, I guess."

"I don't know many aides who's CO would allow them to do that, Vanto. Thrawn's sweet on you." Said Faro.

Oh yes he was.

They arrived at the restaurant only a few minutes late for their booking. Eli greeted the waitress on the desk with a smile.

"Booking for four, should be under Vanto."

"Ah yes, Eli is it? Will the Admiral be joining?"

Kriff. Eli heard Pyrondi snicker.

"No, just us. But you're welcome to contact him if there's an issue, I'm sure you'll still have his comm number on your file?" Eli was ready for an argument, she saw Faro step forward.

The waitress only smiled, "Oh, no, there's no issues, Lieutenant. Just that Admiral Thrawn called earlier today to say he will cover the expenses. Just wanted to check he wasn't coming to pay in person. I'll send him the bill".

Oh. That was actually really sweet. Though, Eli would be the one to pay it, out of Thrawn's bank of course. But still. What did Eli do to deserve a man like Thrawn?

Faro bumped Eli with her elbow, "told you Vanto. He's sweet on you."

They followed the waitress to their table, ordering their food and drinks. Eli was secretly glad that Thrawn was covering the expenses. She felt less bad about the 60 credit steaks making a dent on her, and the others, wages. Eli couldn't exactly comm her mother and say "sorry there's less credits than usual, Ma, I spent a load on steak in a posh restaurant'. Oh Thrawn would be getting a special thank you for being so considerate. She'd been saving, and she'd checked with the other women before she booked. It would have been okay. This was a much nicer option.

"Did the Admiral pay for your midday meal too?" Hammerly inquired with a grin.

Eli nodded, taking a sip of the wine she'd ordered. It was nice, a pink fruity option from Ryloth. "You can't say I don't treat him for lifedays, and for all the work I do - well, I don't want'a say I deserve it, but..."

Pyrondi shrugged, "the Admiral broke the neck of a pirate trying to attack me once, it was kind of scary. But, I think he's just that way out. You deserve it, Eli, for all the krayt spit you have to put up with".

Scary? No, Eli thought that was hot. Thrawn protected his staff, and looked after them. He was always firm, but fair. There had been an increase in transfer requests to join the ship lately, like how in the early days many people wanted off the ship if they had to serve with Thrawn. Ironic, really. And some daft bastards still didn't approve of him being a Grand Admiral. Not that Eli was biased in any way. And she did deserve it, hells, she'd put up with a whole lot of krayt spit in her time because of Thrawn.

"Yes, but he isn't paying for all of this for your lifeday, is he, Pyrondi?" Faro just wanted to push her buttons.

Hammerly took a sip of her fancy Naboo gin, "Hey, I'm not complaining Eli's got Thrawn wrapped around her finger. Faro, just relax."

"He won't make you pay him back, Faro. Just enjoy yourself." Eli said, pouring Karyn a glass of wine. "I've seen you drink this at Ascendancy week parties, have some. You'll be annoyed later when the bar drinks are coming out of your wages."

Begrudgingly, Faro accepted the wine. The women talked, about what else they were going to do on shore leave, if they had seen their families recently. Mostly just menial things that never seemed appropriate on the Chimaera outside of working hours. Pyrondi insisted they take holopics, so Eli reapplied her lipstick, and posed with her glass of wine. They took a few group ones, and then Pyrondi insisted on taking some of Eli individually. For her Mama, Eli had claimed when she asked for the photos to be shared. Which wasn't a lie, she was going to send some to her Ma. However, the individual one was going to Thrawn. She excused herself to the 'fresher, little bit wobbly in her heels from the alcohol. Kark, once they started doing spotchka shots in the bar they were going to next, she'd be drunk.

Sat in the cubicle, she pulled up the picture of herself, and sent it to Thrawn.

*Enjoying the wine! Waitress said you'd called to say you're gonna pay. Thank you xx*

Okay kisses on a comm message was slightly risky, but if the ISB could tap her comm, then they'd heard all of hers and Thrawn's goings on.

*Batat, ch'itiseb vur. You are most welcome.*

Thrawn's (almost instant) reply put a silly little smile on Eli's face. Thrawn was smart, using Cheunh to compliment her. The only two people who could translate were, well, her and Thrawn. He'd said she looked pretty, and called her sweetheart. She'd learned Cheunh didn't really have a direct translation for the word, but he'd tried by separating the two. Eli wasn't as good as Cheunh as she was with Sy Bisti, but she had tried her best to get a bit of a grip on the language.

*You like my photo, darlin'? What you been up to?*

Once, Thrawn had been amused at Eli's pronunciation of darlin' in Cheunh, she couldn't help her accent she'd told him, but she was sure he thought it was endearing. She hadn't said it since. The comm message didn't come through straight away this time, Eli almost left, thinking the girls would be wondering what she was doing, when he finally replied.

*I told you all of my thoughts about the dress before, Eli. Meetings have not long been finished. I ordered food from that diner you like.*

*without me!!! I might request a transfer*

*And who would buy you fancy meals then, ch'eo vir?*

Eli squealed. She loved it when Thrawn got flirty. Another Cheunh pet name, my dear, this time.

*I'm only joking*

*anyway, need to go. They'll think I've fallen down the fresher*

Eli imagined Thrawn rolling his eyes.

*My apologies Lieutenant, tell them I really did urgently need your assistance*

And then another message pinged through.

*Vanto, have you gotten lost? The food's just arrived!* It was Faro.

*Sorry, Faro. Our dear Admiral needed me to call him about something. I'm coming back now*

The 60 credit steaks were really good. Huh, could get used to this lifestyle. Though she was just as excited when they all got in another taxi to a bar a few levels below. She'd heard it recommended, as it had a live band. They spent the rest of the night drinking cocktails and dancing, until the early hours of the morning. Finally, Faro, Hammerly and Pyrondi called a speeder taxi, whilst Eli called for her own. She bid the women goodnight, before climbing in. It hadn't been too long a journey back to the hotel, and after sending the women a quick message to let them know she was back safe, she made her way up back to her room. To Thrawn.

*Glad you're back safe, Eli. Try not to wake the Admiral up!*, came a message from Hammerly. Eli laughed. She knew Thrawn would be waiting for her.

Eli entered the suite to see Thrawn sat on the sofa, the picture of relaxed elegance. A soft smile tugged at her lips at the sight of him. Thrawn looked up from his book, as his gaze met hers with a warmth that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. He set aside his glass of red wine, rose to his feet, and made his way towards her. Eli unfastened her heels, dumped her back on the floor, and embraced him. He smelled of the aftershave she had bought him, bergamot and Corellian vanilla.

"Welcome back, Eli. I trust you had an enjoyable night?" Thrawn asked.

Eli looked up at him, her eyes alight, "I missed you." Thrawn smirked, she was a clingy drunk. Well, no, she was not drunk. Buzzed and slightly tired, sure. "But I had fun."

"I'm surprised you are back before 0300. I would have waited all night."

Kark, he was a romantic when he wanted to be.

"I have one last gift for you, though it is not now technically your lifeday."

Eli raised an eyebrow, "you're spoilin' me darlin'." Her accent had thickened with the alcohol, "an' you're sure? You've spent quite enough on me."

"Yes, I suppose I do spoil you, Eliana." Thrawn led her to the couch, placed his book on the coffee table, next to the wine glass. Eli had been right, he had been reading the new book he'd bought himself. Thrawn reached for a black, velvet box, handing it over to Eli. "For you, ch'eo."

Eli's hands shook slightly as she opened the gift box. She revealed a stunning silver necklace. It was a silver filigree chain, adorned with a deep blue sapphire pendant. Truthfully, it was much too beautiful for everyday wear, but Eli knew she wanted to.

"Oh, darlin'," Eli's voice trembled slightly, as she looked at Thrawn with glassy eyes, "it's so pretty. It's perfect. Oh, but y'didn't have to-"

Thrawn placed a kiss to her lips, silencing her. He pulled her over to him, sliding her legs over his lap, hand resting on her lower back.

"I wanted to," Thrawn said, "though, I may have had an ulterior motive for my purchase."

Eli chucked, of course he did, "and what was that, exactly?"

Thrawn grinned, a sly smile on his lips. He leaned in closer, voice dripping with seduction, as he brushed a piece of Eli's hair from her face.

"I want you, Eli. I want you, wearing nothing but this necklace. You can wear it under your uniform, but right now..." Thrawn leaned in close, so close that Eli could feel his breath on her neck. She squirmed, her stomach hot with arousal.

"I want to fuck you, completely bare, adorned only by this." Eli's breath shuddered, she bit her lip as she nodded.

Thrawn took the necklace from the box, fastening it around her neck. It sat beautifully. Thrawn's fingers, gentle and tender, trailed along her throat, following the chain of the necklace.

"Do you want me?" He asked.

"Darlin, I need you."

Thrawn stood, scooping up Eli in his arms. Eli laughed, anticipation twisting in her stomach. She knew Thrawn was strong, but he carried her to the bedroom like she weighed nothing. He placed her down, and began to unbutton her dress. He removed her clothes, and then his own, leaving the garments pooled in a heap on the floor, in a very un-Thrawnlike way. He lay back on the bed, as if to invite her to straddle him. Eli gladly accepted the invitation, and threw one of her thighs over his body, climbing on top of Thrawn. His hands grabbed down to skim her hips, azure fingers gripping tight enough to leave bruises there. She peered down at him, taking in his handsome face.

"You know, I think chose a very good bedroom for you to fuck your aide in, didn't I?"

Thrawn tutted, "You make it sound so... detached, Eliana." Ooh he used her full name. Spicy. Thrawn's eyes softened. "You're more to me than that, ch'eo. Though I cannot deny we've made good use of it".

Oh yes, the desk had been particularly fun. Though, the massive bed made a change from Thrawn's standard Imperial bed. It was softer, much more comfortable. And they were free, in this room, it was just the two of them. They were staying in the suites for the upcoming Ascendancy week for the balls and other events. It was bliss. They didn't have to hide, here, they could just be Eli and Thrawn. Eli knew full well most men in Thrawn's position expected their aides to service them. It wasn't the sex that was the problem (though Eli wouldn't want to fuck anyone else). It was... it was the unspoken thing between them, that the Empire would disapprove of. They had never called it love, they had never actually said the words - but they both knew they were willing to die for one another. Such attachment was disapproved of in the Imperial Navy. Thrawn had proved plenty of times that he would kill for Eli too. They cared for one another, deeply. Here, in this room, they could show that.

"I...", She couldn't bring herself to say it. But she did, she really did love him. "Thank you for a perfect lifeday, Thrawn."

Thrawn smiled at her, a beautiful, honest smile. "You deserve nothing else, Eli."

Eli leant down and pressed her lips to Thrawn's. She rested her forehead against his, aware of the cool metal around her neck. The necklace was a very special gift, the most concrete physical token of their relationship they had ever exchanged. Eli deepened the kiss, feeling Thrawn's hands grab her thighs. He pulled them forward, and dragged her onto his cock. She grabbed his chin with a moan, tilting his head upwards, feeling him bite at her lip, head tilting back. She rocked her hips, grinding - riding him. Eli never stopped relishing in the ridges on Thrawn's cock, how they felt so good inside her. Eli wasn't often on top, so the change in position offered a different sensation. She was in control, she set the pace. She was so full it almost hurt, but Eli liked the pleasure-pain it brought, overstimulated and beautifully sore. Eli could tell Thrawn was enjoying it too, his usually impassive face flushed purple as he groaned. She knew any moment he could flip her over, and pound her into the mattress, but Eli was convinced he enjoyed watching her. She moved her lips down to Thrawn's throat, nipping at the skin.

"Are you trying to give me a hickey, Ch'eo?" Thrawn's teasing her, he had worn them before, proud, under his uniform. But still, he knew what was happening, what she wanted. "You know that is against the rules, do you not?"

Eli moaned, she loved it when he called her that. Mine. She nodded and whined, a pretty pout on her lips. But then, "you gonna punish me, Sir?"

Thrawn growled, thrusting up and into her forcefully. Eli felt as if she breath got knocked out of her, jerking forward. Thrawn liked it when she pulled rank in bed. He fucked up into her again, harshly, and flipped her over. Thrawn's large hand pushed Eli's head into the pillow, as he rocked his hips over and over. Eli clenched around him with a whimper, crying out at the intensity of her orgasm. She was breathing heavily, her legs shook. Dank farrik, Thrawn was good at knowing what she needed. He continued to fuck into her lazily, before pulling out, and coming all over her thighs. Thrawn pressed kisses into her back, going lower and lower, sinking his slightly fanged teeth into the soft flesh of her ass.

"Oh, krayt spit, Thrawn!" Eli was far too sensitive, her eyes rolling back into her head, but she relished in it. He'd never done that before. Maybe she liked lifeday sex even more than usual sex. He sucked and licked at the skin. Karking hell, Eli was going to hobble into the pre-Ascendency week meetings with Thrawn's fingers bruised into her hips and his bite mark on her ass, claiming her. Eventually, he rolled off her, dark red eyes flashing with satisfaction in the dim light. Eli's heart was hammering in her chest as she straddled Thrawn again, intent on just holding him. Her thighs were painted with his cum and her own. He liked her wet and messy.

"You promised me a thank you for your gifts, didn't you, Eli?" Thrawn said, casually, as if he hadn't just made Eli come. As if he hadn't just done... all of that, actually. "Why don't you come and put those pretty lips to good use?"

Eli stared down at him, eyes slightly wide in disbelief, and a small grin formed on her face for a brief moment as their gaze met. She pulled off Thrawn, aching at the sudden emptiness, and shimmied down the bed. Eli placed a chaste kiss to Thrawn's cock, wet with her own slick. Placing the head in her mouth, Eli sucked gently, enjoying Thrawn's groan of satisfaction as she eased down his dick slowly. Thrawn never wanted Eli to feel obligated, but he knew she enjoyed being bossed around by him (sometimes). She flattened her tongue, and moved rhythmically to allow Thrawn to fuck her throat. Eli gagged, ever so slightly, taking him down a bit too much. Thrawn's hips bucked, as he grabbed a fist of her hair, forcing her down further. Eli's eyes were wet with tears.

"K'pah, that's it. You look so filthy, drooling all over my cock."

It was rare that Thrawn swore, so Eli felt like it was an accomplishment. Her eyes fluttered closed at the words, she dug her nails into his thigh. She garbled a 'yes sir' around his cock, and Thrawn came again. Hard. Eli swallowed, then pulled off Thrawn's dick slowly, panting, a trail of drool and blue-tinted come dripping from her mouth. He deserved that, after spoiling her rotten all day. Thrawn's touch was light, as be affectionately traced a thumb across Eli's cheek.

"Ch'eo ch'an'eci, ch'ah ch'acah vah." He said, pulling her up to lie beside him.

Eli froze. She couldn't understand the full meaning of what Thrawn was saying, it wasn't something he had said to her before. But with the reverence with which he spoke, Eli knew it had to mean something important.

"I'm sorry, darlin', I didn't catch that." She said, and Thrawn shook his head, placing a kiss to her forehead, softly.

"Happy lifeday, Eli".

(Thrawn said, "my soul, I love you", for anyone wondering.)

(Also imagine doing this and then getting whacked with a 'Good day, Lieutenant Vanto' after coming back from the Ascendancy. Thrawn would catch these hands.)

#eli vanto #thranto #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x eli vanto #female eli vanto #thranto fic #thrawn x eli vanto fanfic