#the story behind sou's shirt

[muddyorbsblr]

a sizing mishap

See my full list of works here!

This story (and in turn this entire collection) wouldn't have happened if I weren't inspired by this comment from the amazing @lokischambermaid. Thank you for the thot!! 💖🫡

Summary: You hand Player #6 his uniform but it's the wrong size…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish at the end (minors & pearl clutchers, don't try me. not today); language; side-eye worthy behavior from less than minor character at the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: trust the process, and let me know if you caught on to the hints 😉

It was slowly and surely getting a touch too stuffy in this tiny room you were stationed in for the day. You knew that it was the misfortune that would befall the newbie on the crew but it didn't ease your frustration any. No amount of guzzled water or time spent holding your handheld fan down your shirt could help the fact that the entire room felt like you were slowly being cooked sous vide.

And as if your predicament wasn't uncomfortable and mentally taxing enough, you had to do an inordinate amount of moving about from scouring through the piles of jerseys and shorts to hand off to the various players because most of them hadn't even bothered to fill out the order forms with their size weeks prior to today. To make things even more interesting, some of the men thought themselves charmers and attempted to flirt with you while you were already under enough undue stress.

Your therapist was definitely going to hear about your exchange with that former tatted up boybander who answered your question of "Size, Sir?" with an overconfident "More than big enough for you, luv."

At least you were proud of your deadpanned response of "Somehow I highly doubt that" that made him grumble out his actual answer of "Medium". Another uninterested look that carefully examined his torso and legs and you made the executive decision to hand him some sets in a size XS instead.

"This isn't a Medium. Can you even read?" he snapped at you, waving the uniforms in his clenched fist.

"It's your size, sir," you shot back, your tone still deadpanned and unwavering despite the temper he was showcasing. "If you don't believe me you're more than free to try it on behind that curtain there. If I'm wrong then I will gladly assist you and hand you a set in the next size up."

It only took a few minutes for him to stomp behind the curtain, try on the uniform, and then stomp all the way out of the tiny room without another word. Guess you handed him the correct size after all.

You had a few minutes to breathe after that first wave of players walked through, allowing you to prepare yourself for the sweat-inducing task of moving about the piles once again when the next batch came in and told you they didn't input their sizes, either. At this point, you jokingly told yourself that you'd outright kiss the first one who actually had a size next to their name on the sheet.

"Name?" you called out when you heard the door open again, already facing the surplus of extra unlabeled uniforms to thumb through the piles.

"Douglas," the woman answered, chuckling when you let out a sigh of relief finding a size next to her name on the chart. "I take it some of my teammates didn't give you their sizes in the form?"

"Try nearly all of them so far," you huffed to confirm. "It's been so bad that I was telling myself that I'd kiss the first person who actually had a size next to their name on this damn thing." You waved the printed papers of the chart around to punctuate your point, making her laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Well I think you'd be better off saving that promise for the one coming after me, assuming that he filled out the sizing form. Trust me, you'll probably want to pass on lil ol' me. Then again he might not be up for it considering he does have a very pretty lass that--come to think of it, from what I know about her, kind of looks like you…?"

"Now I'm intrigued," you teased, turning around to the comparatively small pile of labeled uniforms and handed her the one with "DOUGLAS" written on the top. "There you go. Good luck out there."

"Thanks. And good luck to you too it's like a brazen bull in here, bloody fuck."

You waved her off, already holding your tiny fan down your shirt again and just trying to take deep, slow breaths to try and lower your body temperature somewhat. The sound of the door opening again nearly had you whining to any deity listening to give you at least fifteen minutes to cool down before having to deal with another conveniently forgetful soul. "Name?" you all but sighed out.

The effort it took for you to fight back a face splitting grin at the name and buttery smooth voice that reached your ears should have gotten you some form of accolade in the realm of sheer Herculean level restraint. "Hiddleston."

You perused the charts, pursing your lips to keep yourself stoic upon seeing that the field beside his name was, in fact, not blank. "Just a moment, Sir." There was a very faint mumbling coming from the towering man a few feet from you while you retrieved his uniforms from the pile of labeled bundles, an expression nearly as stoic as your own on his face when you handed him the parcel. "There you go."

He gave you a soft smile, holding you captive in an oceanic gaze that you had to practically pry yourself away from and at least pretend to busy yourself with the paperwork on the little desk.

Suddenly all the bravado you had facing all those hubristic men from earlier melted away, as if karma had literally deflated it out of you as some warped retaliation for your earlier behavior. He didn't even have to do fuck all anything and you could feel your pulse skyrocketing and your body overheating that had nothing to do with the current climate of the even more seemingly cramped and overcrowded room.

But then he spoke.

"Erm…I truly hate to be a bother but…this isn't the correct size."

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, showing him your visible shock. "That--That can't be. This came straight from the suppliers, they're the ones that labeled these all."

"I understand that but…these are a size Small. I distinctly remember leaving instructions for y--For my partner to input a Medium."

Another look through the chart had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. "It…it says Small," you choked out, visibly struggling to meet his eyes again. "I'm--I'm so sorry, let me see what I can do, I'll make a few calls and-and--"

"No no no, hey hey…" he called out, placing the parcel back on the table before placing his hands on your arms in a gentle hold. "Calm down. It's alright, just breathe." He started running his hands up and down your arms, the motion calming you almost instantly, before sneaking a glance at your little nameplate on the table. "Y/N, just breathe for me, sw--Breathe for me, alright?"

The motions of his hands began to guide you through your breathing, feeling your racing pulse begin to mellow down. "I'm--really sorry about that, it's just I'm new here and this is gonna get me in some serious trouble if I end up fumbling and blundering like--"

"You're going to be alright, it's not that big of a deal, really," he told you in a reassuring tone, squeezing your shoulders lightly before letting go and picking up his jerseys and shorts again. "It's only one size down, I'll make it fit." His free hand twitched toward you briefly, some bizarre part of you instinctively itching to reach for him in turn, but your more rational mind decided against it and sat back on your little seat.

"There's something off about you," you rambled, shuffling the papers of the chart once more and reaching for a pen. "You're way too understanding and mild-mannered for this industry."

He hesitated before taking the pen from you, holding your hand in his as he asked, "Would you mind if I tried it on? Just to be sure." There was the slightest twitch in his eye, as if he was about to wink before he made the split second decision not to, and all you could do at that moment was look up at him with the most foolishly dumbstruck look on your face.

"N-Not at all. Go--Go right ahead, there's a curtain over--Ohh okay then that…works…too," you mumbled to near incoherence as he proceeded to undo the buttons on his thicker overshirt, shrugging the garment onto the floor before giving his light blue button down the same treatment.

Get a hold of yourself. Pick your jaw off the ground you're embarrassing yourself, you hissed inwardly, reminding yourself that you were about to be in the presence of a lot of shirtless men this entire weekend throughout all the practices and promotional events, not to mention the game itself on Sunday. But none of those guys look like this. Look like a literal god among men.

All the while he never broke eye contact with you, holding you hostage in a stormy gaze as if daring you to look away while he effortlessly pierced through the plastic that contained the jerseys. You did your best not to fixate your eyes on the sinewy, well-defined muscles that were moving fluidly with every minute movement of his hands, holding his gaze with all the confidence you could muster.

He made a show of unfolding the shirt in slow, deliberate movements, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk when he noted the visible movement of your neck from a strained effort in swallowing and calming yourself. It was only then that he put the shirt over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and threatening to burst at even the most minute flex of muscle.

The internet is about to have a field day and I am about to get kicked out of this committee, you thought to yourself. And on your first year, no less. You should've known it was a bad idea to agree to the invitation just because your boyfriend encouraged you to.

"It's not too bad, is it?" He swung his arms around to test his range of motion, before raising his hands above his head in a stretch, causing the borderline illegally tight fabric  to ride up on his abdomen, exposing his lower stomach.

You could barely hold in your composure as you choked out, "It looks…manageable." You held out your pen in his direction again. "You just uhm…need to sign on the chart."

He approached you with a certain sway to his step that vaguely reminded you of a wolf stealthily assessing its prey, fingers slowly brushing across your skin as he took the pen from your hand and uncapped the pen by placing the cap between his teeth. When he finished signing his name on the chart, his eyes never left yours as he recapped the pen and placed it back into your hand, his large palm engulfing your entire hand in a warmth you couldn't even bother to complain about despite the stale humid air of the room.

"There you are, darling," he rasped. "No harm done. You won't get into any trouble with your superiors because of me, don't you worry your lovely little head." You watched with bated breath as he turned around and bent at the waist to pick up the discarded shirts, putting that ass that the internet shamelessly thirsts over and stares at for hours on end mere feet before your naked eyes.

I have no idea if my job is cursed or if it might just be the best thing that ever happened to me, you thought helplessly to yourself, watching as he stood back upright and turned again to face you, giving you a small wave as he exited the room.

You fought the urge to hold your tiny fan down your pants after that exchange.

The sound of your phone chiming with a new message brought you out of your stupor, a smile finding its way onto your face as soon as you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

"Are you alright? Have you eaten since you got there? Make sure you're drinking lots of water, I hear it's going to be sweltering today. I love you and I miss you already, goddess."

Just the mere thought of how he'd taken the time to type out the message despite how busy you knew he was had you biting your lip to try even slightly to prevent yourself from letting out a stream of giggles like you were back in school all over again. You could feel the ache in your heart as you began to feel your own yearning beginning to intensify after his message.

"I just have a few more people to hand off their uniforms to and then I'll go get some food. Thank you for checking in on me. I love you and I miss you more than you know."

The rest of the day was thankfully a bit more merciful towards you. Once you'd handed out all the uniforms and put all the surplus jerseys and shorts into a merch pile for audience members to purchase before entering the stadium proper and perhaps have the players sign at the end of the game, the hours up until training was over were spent outdoors coordinating with press photographers, making sure that security was on peak alertness in case anyone managed to sneak through the cracks, and confirming that everything was in place for some hot sauce challenge that would take place tomorrow.

You also made a note to take one of those bottles home since you were running low. Only if you could, of course.

When the fields were empty and you were locking down the press room for the night, you heard someone walk into the otherwise quiet room. "I had the most interesting conversation with some of the other players today." The sound of the man's rich, velvety voice had your heart violently pounding in your chest. "About you."

You took a few steadying breaths before you addressed your unexpected visitor, your back still turned to him as you finished writing down the names on the media passes for tomorrow morning. "And what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Hiddleston?"

The sound of his footsteps slowly approaching you had a thrill running up your spine, making you abruptly stand to attention when you felt large hands rest on your waist. "One of them told me about how you were tempted to…what was it again? Ah yes…you said something about kissing the first player that actually had their size on the chart?" You bit back a smile, looking out the window to double check that nobody was lurking and trying to peer into the room as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Now Douglas told me that allegedly it was her, and she passed it on to whoever came next. And if memory serves me right…I believe that would mean that immensely fortunate player was…myself."

He'd leaned in so close at this point that his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "This is highly unprofessional," you mumbled, barely able to contain your smile now.

"I don't care. I've been thinking about you all day." Fingers ghosted up the length of your spine while his nose traced a line from the shell of your ear down to a very specific weak spot on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You went nearly limp in his hold the second you felt him press a soft kiss to that same spot, his free hand deftly undoing the ribbon you had holding your hair up before weaving his fingers through your hair. "Take this as me officially breaking character. I've missed you, goddess."

The groan he let out against your skin turned you into putty in your boyfriend's arms. "One day," you giggled out. "You lasted barely one day."

Over the last few years since you'd gotten together, whenever you were both signed on to a project, you tried to commit to this bit of "staying private and professional" throughout the course of the project, so as to not draw too much attention to the fact that you were involved. It had come to the point where it collectively slipped the mind of the general public that you two were actually still, in fact, happily together and borderline maddeningly in love. And it also granted you both a comfortable enough sense of privacy, which you were immensely grateful for and neither of you ever dared take for granted.

On previous projects, he would 'break character' within the course of a few hours, and you had a feeling that the only reason it took him nearly a day this time around was that you two weren't around each other as much due to him practicing for the game, and you running around the entire facility.

"I have to be honest, though," you started, letting out a squeal as he abruptly turned you around in his arms to face him, pulling your body flush against his. "For a second there I thought this would be a first and I would break character. This afternoon." It was a good thing that he was currently holding you upright with the way he was looking at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving through that one size too gloriously small shirt; if you were left to stand on your own, your knees would've buckled the second he touched you. "If you kept up that goddamn striptease for even two more seconds I might have caved."

He smirked at you when you a tiny yelp slipped through your lips as he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and easily lifted you into his arms. "I'll have to try a bit harder next time," he whispered, walking until you felt your back make contact with the wall. "I believe you owe me a kiss, sweetheart."

You crossed your hands behind his neck, leaning in to give him the quickest peck to his lips. "There you are," you teased, letting out a stream of giggles against his lips when he grabbed the back of your head and pressed you against the wall before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. He let out a desperate sounding moan into your mouth as his arm around you tightened and his fingers tangled into your hair. As if he couldn't possibly get enough of you. Or as if you hadn't seen each other for months.

"Where are you staying?" he rasped when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

"I have a room that I'm sharing with 2 more members from the committee--"

"That won't do," he cut you off, pressing his lips to your jaw and kissing a trail down your neck. "You're staying with me. I already despise the mornings that I wake up away from you, it's cruel and unusual punishment if I go to sleep tonight alone knowing full well that you're here in another room." You stifled a moan when he proceeded to suck a bruise onto your neck, already anticipating the questions from your fellow committee members in the morning when they catch sight of it.

"I uhh--ohh fuck--I'll need to get my things," you stammered, leaning your head back and arching into his kiss to expose more of your neck to him. "My clothes--"

"You won't need them, darling," he retorted, smirking against your skin when you let out a squeak trying to feign protest against his words. "Say yes," he pleaded between kisses. "Stay with me." He kissed his way up to the corner of your mouth. "Don't deny me the simplest joy of getting to wake up with you in my arms."

Those were the words that did you in. "Okay, okay yes," you breathed out, your moan muffled by him once again capturing your lips in a kiss that threatened to steal you of every last breath you had left.

Neither of you seemed to care in the slightest if you crossed paths with anyone on your way to his suite, Tom adorably refusing to let your feet touch the ground as he carried you down the halls. "There was one more thing that some of the players mentioned…Something about you being able to assess their sizes and giving them their correct fitting instead of the size that they told you they were?"

Dammit, the boybander told on me, you grumbled to yourself, meeting your boyfriend's gaze with your worst attempt at an innocent smile. "Aaaand…what about it?"

"You've known my measurements since they sent in the roster form," he started with a knowing smirk, causing you to purse your lips and basically out yourself that you knew exactly where he was going with this.

"I did…"

"Did you intentionally input the wrong size?"

Biting your lip before letting out a fit of near uncontrollable giggles told him more than a spoken admission ever could. "I might have…"

"And I would also be right to assume you had everything to do with the swapped out trousers in my bag?"

Your giggles got louder, practically giving the entire floor a homing beacon signal to where you were, take one look at your current positions, and give them a vivid idea of what type of noises they would expect to hear throughout the night.

"I had to do it," you managed to say between laughs. "For Tumblr."

You held on to him a bit tighter when he went to unlock his door, pressing the keycard to the scanner and balancing you on a single arm, and giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss yet another particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. He let out a seductively dark chuckle against your skin when your giggles had morphed into moans.

"Naughty little goddess," he rasped, tracing his lips along your shirt's neckline as he laid you down on the bed and then proceeding to kiss a path down your clothed torso until he reached the hem of your shirt. His hands traveled up your body, working the fabric up and over your head, kissing and licking and biting at a leisurely pace at every sliver of skin that was exposed to him.

Once the shirt was up to your raised hands, he hovered his face above yours, capturing your lips in another languid, decadent kiss that had you sighing against him as a warm contentment washed over you. You'd only realized now how much you actually missed him since having to leave your home yesterday to come here and begin preparations with the rest of the committee. All day you were so caught up with finalizing every meticulous detail you had control over it was almost like your mind didn't allow you to feel how much you were yearning.

"What am I going to do with you, my darling little menace?" he murmured against your lips, your combined moans filling the room as he licked into your mouth, your tongues meeting in a tangle long practiced and perfected over the years. You quickly tossed your shirt aside to free your hands and pull him closer, giving him the perfect leeway to unclasp your bra.

"Whatever you want," you gasped once you both pulled away, the silliest grins on both your faces as your hands fumbled for the hem of his jersey. "I love you and I've missed you more than you know."

"Shouldn't have said that, my love," he growled, pushing you back down on the bed so that your back was flat against the mattress, a near filthy moan escaping you when he hooked your legs around him and rolled his hips into yours. "There's a lot of pent up energy in me." He proceeded to summarize what he'd spent the day doing, punctuating each item with a thrust of his hips. "Running." Thrust. "Dribbles." Thrust. "Shooting drills." Thrust. "Endorphins are running amok. You understand, don't you, darling?"

"Let me repeat myself," you said breathlessly, crossing your ankles and pulling his hips to yours and making him let out the most delicious stuttered moan. "You can do whatever you want."

A/N: Suddenly those reblogs I did of 'one look and they'll know' are making sense, huh? 😉😈 Welcome to the Soccer Aid 2023 Hiddles collection! As of writing this Author's Note, there are going to be 5 stories in this collection, the next one being 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce' which covers the Elementals challenge video, and I'm already working on it as we speak. 🫠

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-zie @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

[dankfarrikfifi]

A Night in and a Day Out

Pt 4 of Some Version of You, 4.5k

WARNINGS: 18+ only, MDNI, explicit content, kissing, oral (f receiving), p in v, fingering, slight choking, discussions of rough sex, discussions of a safe word, let me know if I missed anything <3

A night in with Frankie and the boys, and some discussion of what you and Frankie like to do together.

It’s honestly startling how solidly Frankie has managed to cement himself in your life. It’s been two months since you met, and you’ve made a routine together already. Monday, Frankie stops by the coffee shop before his shift, and you share drinks between customers. Tuesday, you bring him lunch, sitting on the picnic bench behind the garage. Wednesday, you don’t always get to see each other much, your shifts often lining up perfectly to not give either of you an opening until late in the night. Thursday, you have breakfast at his house, taking a walk around the park in the morning before you both head off to your jobs. Friday was different from the rest of the week, being the only day you both consistently have off. 

Since reaching adulthood, Fridays have always been reserved for writing, cooking, and having dinner with Will and Benny, every week without fail. You spend the day working on whatever idea had sprouted into your head earlier in the week, words falling out of your fingers with ease, and that night you and the boys take turns cooking. Then, Santi and Frankie joined the three of you, and you aren’t sure if you could handle going back. You and the four boys have created a bond, and soon you have a whole new world of traditions. But Friday never changed. This week, Frankie was hosting, and you were being his sous chef. 

 The evening was filled with the smell of your and Frankie’s cooking mixed with Will’s baking, while Benny and Santi set the table and made drinks. You all sit around the table, sharing stories of your week, and having the time of your lives. This was the wonder of Fridays, spending time with your closest friends. Friday nights, however, are for you and Frankie, and no one else. Once the table is clear, and the other boys have left for their own shenanigans, you and him have all the freedom you could need to appreciate each other, fully. 

The two of you are sprawled out on the ground in front of the fireplace, a forgotten movie on the screen as you talk over it. You ask each other questions about your week and make plans for the future, all while your hands remain intertwined between you. Eventually you find yourself with your head on his stomach, gazing up at the underside of his chin while you chat. It’s then that he looks down at you, an almost shy smile on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him, encouraging him to say whatever it is on his mind. 

“The other day, I asked you if I had been too rough,” he stumbles a bit on his words, and you know exactly where this is going, your heart starting to beat a bit harder, “You said you don’t mind when I am, I just, I wanted to ask you specifics.”

You flush, a warm heat settling in your cheeks as you try to avoid his gaze. He coaxes your face closer to his, noses almost touching when he continues talking. 

“Let’s be clear, I am asking because I like it,” he clarifies, and you find it much easier to meet his eyes, “Like, really enjoy the idea of that. But I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with anything we even consider doing.”

“Fuck Frankie, why are you the best guy ever?” You whisper, suddenly overwhelmed, but you try to focus as hard as possible, “I, uh, yea I really wanna try some stuff, and I don’t know I just like when you call the shots and take control, it’s hot.”

You barely have the last word out when his lips are pressing against yours, stealing your breath away as you try to keep up with his kiss. You suddenly find yourself underneath him, and you can hear him talking as he starts to strip you. 

“Tell me what you like, baby,” he eases your shirt over your head and starts on the button of your jeans, “If you tell me I am happy to oblige, we do anything you don’t like and I will stop. Just pick a word.”

“Ok, um, red, that’s my word. Red means stop.”

“Good girl,” he hums, appreciating the view of you in nothing but a bra and underwear. “So, you like me calling the shots? What else, tell me, pretty girl.”

“I like when you kinda, I don’t know, manhandle me?” you struggle to find the right words as Frankie starts gliding his finger along the wet spot now forming in your panties. One look at his dark eyes encourages you to keep going, and suddenly you can’t stop talking, spilling every detail. “I want you to be rough, and not be mean but be firm? I just, I like not having to be in control, and I mean I’ll tell you when I don’t like something.”

When your voice trails away, he takes the opportunity to connect your lips again, and you soon find yourself completely naked, while he remains fully clothed, and you can barely contain your gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. He pulls back, taking in your facial expressions as you fall apart. 

“Fuck Frankie, Frankie,” the words fall out of your lips like a prayer, like his name is the only thing that will bring you salvation, “God please, I-”

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, his fingers flexing inside of you to find that spot only he seems able to reach. You pant into his welcoming mouth, words suddenly very hard to find with the pads of his fingers relentless inside your aching body. Your hips squirm as you try to find some relief from the constant pressure. He pulls back enough to see your eyes, a hint of amusement in his own when he sees just how desperate you are. 

“Yea, that feel good, pretty girl?” he grins, seemingly unaffected, at least to the extent that you are. Your head bobs up and down in agreement, and he can’t help it when he reaches out and grabs your chin between his finger and thumb. You instinctively tilt your head back, wanting more. He adjusts his grip, settling his hand under your jaw and cradling your soft throat. You enjoy the feeling of his calloused hand, large enough to span from one ear to the other. The whimper that leaves your lips when his hand tightens ever so slightly is enough for Frankie to know the answer to the question he is about to ask. 

“How do you want it, sweetheart?” his tone is light, but you can still hear the strain in his voice, “Do you want it rough? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t take it anymore?”

You can’t be embarrassed by the moan that leaves your lips, by the resuming of your nodding despite his grip. How could you be embarrassed, when he’s reading your mind and saying everything you want him to say? He lets you nod for a few seconds, lets you babble about how much you want exactly that, before his attitude shifts just the slightest. You can see his eyes harden as his hand tightens on your throat, just enough to make you slip deeper into the headspace he wants you in. 

“Here’s how this is gonna go, sweetie,” his voice is deeper than you’ve heard it before, “I’m gonna make you cum so many times you can’t think. You need me to stop, you say ‘red’ and we stop right away, got it?”

“Yes Frankie, fuck I need you so bad,” at your whispered pleas he grins, a feral thing that sets your body on fire, and his fingers start moving inside you again in an unforgiving pace. You whine, a high-pitched noise that spurs Frankie on in his efforts to get you to reach that peak. His thumb begins circling your clit, the perfect amount of pressure that shoves you right over the edge. 

“That’s it baby,” he talks you through it, his voice a soothing anchor in the haze, “Fuck you look so pretty, such a good girl.” 

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, his hands brushing against your thigh in calming circles. You catch his eye and grin, leaning up for a quick kiss. He complies immediately, and you can catch the curve of a smile on his lips as he pulls his fingers out of you. You can’t help the little whine that leaves your lips at the loss of his warmth.

“Shhh, be patient baby,” he teases, “That was only one, you’ll get more. Come on, get up.” 

Frankie pulls you to your feet and you follow, collapsing into his chest when your shaking legs don’t want to hold your body upright. Neither of you hold back your laughter as he yanks you into his arms, your legs circling his hips while he carries you to his bedroom. He practically tosses you on the bed, making you giggle mindlessly as you bounce a bit on the mattress. You stare up at him, breathless, as he strips his shirt off, his hand traveling down to his belt buckle. You watch, captivated by his large hand undoing his belt before whipping it out of the loops of his jeans. 

 Grinning up at him, you reach forward to palm him through his jeans. He groans and savors the feeling of it before grabbing your wrist and yanking your hand away. He tuts at you, shaking his head and smiling broadly. 

“Uh uh,” he teases while pulling his pants and boxers down in one move. You take his body in with hunger, lifting your hands up to pull him down to you. He goes happily and plants his hands on either side of your head, resting his weight on top of you. His nose bumps yours as he brings his lips to yours, pausing just before they meet. “You ready, pretty girl?”

Letting your enthusiasm talk for itself, you press your lips to his eagerly. He snakes his tongue in when you part them and you can’t help the loud moan that leaves you. He lets you run the show for just a moment before pulling away, sliding down your body and settling himself between your legs. He catches your eyes, grinning before he dives in. 

“Holy shit, Frankie, oh my-” Your voice is cut off with a cry when he latches onto your clit with a harsh suck. He takes the opportunity to slide his middle finger inside your aching core, bending and searching. Your hips squirm uncontrollably at the intense pleasure he’s doling out, and the warm roll of his tongue from your dripping entrance to your clit breaks you. Head tipping back, you moan and gasp, basking in the feeling of his mouth continuing to work over you until it starts to turn overwhelming. “Frankie, fuck, I don’t know-”

“Yes you can,” he tilts his head while his thumb brushes your clit. Reflexively you reach for his wrist, but before you get even close his own hand has your arm, pressing it against your lower tummy. He holds it there and pulls your other arm to join it. Soon, you find yourself with his hand sealed around both of your wrists pinned to your body. “There, now I can take my time.” 

You can’t keep looking at the smug look on his face, tilting your head back into the pillows. With your eyes closed you can hear him shifting on the bed while he presses two of his fingers into you this time, finding that spot immediately. You’re restless, yanking at his grip while his fingers fuck into you over and over again. The volume of your voice rises when he slips in one more finger, the final step to getting you prepped for him. 

“You ready for me?” he teases, pulling his hand away from your center and briefly releasing your hands from your stomach. You nod rapidly, reaching up to pull him in for a kiss. He obliges and you barely notice him reaching over to grab a condom. He doesn’t let your lips part while he slides it on and lines himself up. In one push he’s sheathed inside of you, your overwhelmed gasp eclipsed by his deep grumble. He fits his face in the crook of your neck, panting and trying to compose himself at the feel of your warm walls clenching around him. 

The longer he stays like that the more impatient you get. You start to roll your hips, encouraging him to move, when he pulls back to look at you. His one hand grips your hip tightly and the other slides up your arm, placing it at the top of the mattress. He does the same with your other arm before grabbing both your wrists in one hand, anchoring them to the bed. He rests his weight on them, and pulls back and punches his cock back into you, all while keeping you still with the hand on your hip. You cry out at the intensity of his thrusts as he makes room for himself in your body. 

“Fuck, fuck you feel good,” Frankie groans, before composing himself and rising above you. He winks at you, a sly smile on his face, before he doubles his speed, pushing a strangled noise out of you. You try to pull your wrists down, seeking anything that will relieve the building pressure at the base of your spine. His grip only tightens, pulling a cry from your lips. 

“Frankie, please touch me please,” you beg, and he immediately complies, letting go of your hip in favor of rolling his thumb over your clit. You can’t help the noise that falls from your lips, a little mewl that spurs him on. He slots his mouth against yours, swallowing your sounds as he continues to rain pleasure down on you. 

“Fuck, god damn,” he’s moaning continuously, praises falling from his lips as you cum again, falling to pieces beneath him. “That’s it baby, come on, good girl.”

You’re breathless, writhing under his solid body as he doesn’t relent, chasing his own high. It’s just starting to get too much when he cums, shuddering above you and groaning. Frankie takes a moment before pulling out, savoring the feeling of your warm body. You lay there, limp on the bed as he gets rid of the condom. You stay put as he crawls back in bed with you, facing each other on your sides. 

“How was that?” He asks, brushing a piece of hair out of your eyes. You grin at him, reaching up for a kiss before answering. 

“Fucking amazing Frankie,” your voice is slightly hoarse when you respond, “You’re the best, thank you”

You’re starting to trail off, the need for sleep taking over your brain. He smiles, a soft thing that melts your heart, before laying on his back and pulling you into his chest. It’s less than five minutes before you’re asleep. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s barely light out when you wake up, the shortening days providing less sun this early. The sky is a stunning blue when you catch it through the window of Frankie’s bedroom. You stretch out on his chest, unsuccessfully trying not to wake him. He stirs beneath you, also stretching and looking at you with sleepy eyes. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, still half asleep. You can’t help but smile at his boyish face in the morning, his now shaggy hair falling over his forehead. “Sleep okay?” 

You nod at him before tucking your face into his throat, breathing in his aroma. His hand rubs aimlessly at your back, pulling you closer into his chest. You both know you should start your day soon, and yet the scene you currently occupy is so enchanting it’s difficult to pull away. 

An hour later finds you in Frankie’s kitchen, sipping on some coffee as he makes pancakes. The domesticity of it is not lost on you, and the thought makes your heart beat just the slightest bit faster. You observe him as he moves around with ease, his hips swaying slightly to the music drifting in from the living room. 

While eating, you make plans for the weekend. Frankie’s brother is coming into town on Sunday, so the two of you only really have today to spend with each other alone. 

“Do you wanna meet him?” Frankie asks while you’re mid-bite. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows scrunched together with a mouth full of pancake. “My brother, Nick, do you wanna meet him?” 

“Oh, uh yea! If you want me to, definitely!” You are well aware of how much Frankie values family, and it makes you a little mushy to realize he wants you to meet them. He beams at you, nodding his head a bit. 

“Amazing, I can’t wait,” he responds, the smile not leaving his lips for a moment. You can’t help but return it, his positivity infectious. You finish the rest of your meal, legs tangled together under Frankie’s kitchen table. As you’re cleaning up, he bumps his hip against yours, gaining your attention. You respond by flicking water at his nose. He laughs, startled by your teasing, before talking.

”Wanna do something fun today?” He asks, as if you would say no to that. You affirm, nodding your head to tell him to continue talking. “Aquarium or zoo?”

”Hardest question anyone has ever asked me!” You laugh, pretending to ponder for a moment. “It’s not much longer we can be outside, let's go to the zoo.”

—————————————

Frankie takes you back to your place to get changed, your pajamas of his shirt and a pair of shorts not quite cutting it for a walk outside. You change quickly, stopping to say hi to a hungover Benny in the living room and grabbing an overnight bag. Before long, you and Frankie are walking hand in hand down the trail of the zoo. You’re having the time of your life, pointing at different animals and sharing snacks. 

You’re waiting for Frankie to finish washing his hands when you feel your phone buzz. You fish it out of your purse and check who the incoming text is from. You get excited when you see it’s from your second older brother, Theo. You generally check in once a week but it’s been a bit since you’ve talked to him. Your excitement disappears when you see the content of the text. 

“From mom” Theo writes, followed by a screenshot of a message he had received from your mom. Your stomach drops in anger when you see what she had written, “Asked your dad if you guys could be with me this Christmas, he said you guys have plans already :( asked if I could join and he said he’d rather not. It’s hard to remember we were married sometimes! Love you.”

You know for a fact that only Noah, your oldest brother, had plans with your dad this year, the rest of you had planned on surprising your mom. The idea that your dad had lied to your mom on your behalf was making you furious, and the fact that your mom was so used to it does as well. You were only eight when their relationship had finally crumbled, but you could still see how much it had broken your mother. She had truly been in love with your dad, though you never could understand why, and it seemed the feeling was not reciprocated from him. 

You’re startled from your thoughts by Frankie sidling up to you, pressing a quick kiss against your cheek. Your mind is quickly filled with brighter thoughts brought on by the man next to you. You slip your phone away, no energy to respond at this moment. For now, you’re blissfully happy by just being with Frankie. Why change that?

The rest of the daylight is spent walking back to the car, a comfortable silence falling over you while Frankie navigates his way back to his house. Your eyes are a bit heavy, and you decide to milk it for all it’s worth when he pulls into the garage. You rest your head back, eyes closed as you pretend to sleep. You know you’re not being convincing when you hear his deep chuckle. 

“Sleepy, baby?” you can feel his cheek nuzzle against your neck and you can't help the little giggle that you let out. You squirm away from the tickle of his newly grown scruff, but he follows you swiftly, undoing your seatbelt so he can push you flat against the bench of his truck. You gasp, a soft cry of his name swallowed by his lips as he presses them against yours. He pulls back a bit to tease you,  “Want me to carry you in?”

You nod, head tilting back in mock sleep again. He scoops you up, reaching behind him to open the driver’s side door. He carries you in, your head resting against his shoulder and face tucked into his neck. You barely process the walk to his bedroom, too comfy in his arms to really care. Before long you’re sitting on the edge of Frankie’s bed, his smiling face staring up at you as he pulls your shoes off. The air around the two of you has electricity, a charge that holds a handful of promises. 

You’re quiet as he slides off your pants, keeping his eyes on yours as he starts to rain kisses across your ankle, up your calf, and around your knee. He’s just reaching the point on your thigh that gets your breath sped up, when he switches over to your other leg. He repeats the motions, reaching that point before continuing up. Spreading your thighs apart with his hands, his breath starts to fan over your aching core, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, a hand reaching down to tangle in his hair, “Please, I need you to touch me.”

He doesn’t respond, simply pushes slightly against your stomach to lay you on your back. You go willingly, spreading across the sheets and tilting your hips up to entice him. It seems to work, as it’s only seconds until he has your panties pulled to the side, his mouth devouring you. You start to squirm, the feelings overwhelming as he flicks his tongue over your clit with intense speed. His strong arm reaches up, banding against your waist to stop your movement as he uses the other hand to slip two fingers into you at once.

“Jesus Frankie, fuck,” you moan, unable to do anything but take what he’s giving you. Your head tilts back as he continues giving you immense waves of pleasure. “I’m gonna-”

Your moans are cut off when he slides in a third finger while also rolling his tongue against your clit, over and over again until fireworks explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, trying to pull away despite his grip on your waist as the pleasure becomes almost too much. He pulls away for just a moment to wink at you before diving right back in. 

“Fuck! Frankie keep going, please keep-” You can’t keep talking as he does exactly what you ask, his mouth unrelenting on your aching center. He doesn’t let up until you’re practically screaming through your second orgasm, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He finally pulls away, grinning at you in your overwhelmed state. 

“You look so pretty when you cum, baby,” he coos at you, standing to get on the bed next to you. Resting against the headboard, Frankie pulls you up onto his lap. Despite the fact that you just came twice in a row, you can’t help but grind down onto his hard cock, pulling a moan from him. You reach down to yank off your sweater and he groans when he sees you didn’t bother with a bra. He buries his face in your chest, nipping and licking at your salty skin. You tilt your head back, giving him more room. 

“Let me ride you, please,” you whimper into the air, and his answering groan is response enough. You help each other out of your remaining clothes. Before long, you’re sinking down onto him, gasps of pleasure tearing from both of your lips, as he feels so much bigger from this angle. You take a moment, struggling to adjust.

“Feel good, baby?” he smiles at you, brushing your hair away from your forehead and leaning up for a kiss. You oblige, whining into his mouth when he bucks his hips up into you. You take a moment to catch your breath before lifting up and dropping back down into his lap. It’s his turn to groan this time as you grind down, his cock seemingly taking up every inch of space inside of you. 

You take your time, lifting up and dropping back down onto him as much as your muscles can handle. You’re getting close, thighs shaking with the effort of moving up and down. He can sense it, can feel your imminent release, and flips you over so that he’s now on top of you. 

“This ok?” he pants, hips now working into you at new speeds. You nod happily, words escaping you as you’re now hurtled towards bliss. Your moans reach a peak as you break underneath him. “You feel so good, baby, such a good girl for me.”

You can tell he’s getting there too, his hips stuttering before he releases. He takes a second to compose himself, face buried in your neck as he catches his breath. He pulls back, ready to get you two ready for bed, when you grab his cheeks in your hands. He looks at you with a question on the tip of his tongue, one he doesn’t get to ask before you’re pressing your lips against his. He smiles against you, kissing back with as much fervor. You lay like that for a while as he softens inside of you. 

“Fuck, Frankie, that was amazing,” you whisper, smiling softly at him. He returns it, pressing another kiss to your mouth before pulling out. You whimper a bit, missing the warmth of his body against yours. You don’t have to miss it for long as he quickly returns to the bed and gathers you up in his arms. 

“Goodnight, pretty girl,” he presses a kiss against your temple, and it’s not long until you’re both out cold, satisfied and happy. 

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #my writing #writing #frankie loml #pedro pascal fan fiction #some version of you #frankie

[sneakyblinders]

superstition - modern!tommy shelby x ofc

A/N: hello! this is something i've had brewing in my mind for quite some time! Modern!Tommy Shelby x ofc, Amandine. Based in southeast Louisiana. (If you ever have the opportunity to go... please take it. It's one of the best places on earth.) If you're wanting some ambiance, or getting the vibe of the story... take a listen to this ambiance music on Youtube! warnings: language, cheating, sexual themes. not canon. an au.

1998–Southeast Louisiana

“You know what you’re getting yourself into, don’t you, Thomas?” Polly asked a pink cheeked teenage Tommy as he stumbled in the backdoor, tucking his shirt back into his pants. 

He licked his lips, sweat running down his back. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“That girl, Tommy,” she paused. The ceiling fan whirred, kicking away the leftover smells from dinner. The heat. “Amandine,” Polly shuddered. “Her family is dangerous. Her grandmere is a seer, you know.” 

Tommy nodded. He did know. “I love her, Pol,” he said, straightening his back. 

Polly chuckled. “You’ll see what someone like Amandine Theiriot does with love.” 

2011–Southeast Louisiana

The restaurant bustled. Dishwashers were running furiously, line cooks and waiters bickered over a particularly fussy patron. Amandine rolled her eyes. The heat was overwhelming. July in Louisiana was brutally unbearable, and a heatwave made going into the kitchen every day damn near impossible. 

“Dine!” Gio, the sous chef called out to her. “Dine, there’s somebody here fer ya!” 

Her eyes wandered tiredly to the man in the corner. Her man. “Tommy?” she breathed quietly. So quietly she wasn’t sure if anybody but herself heard her. 

He didn’t smile at her. All joy was gone from his eyes. His lips were in a firm line, hands in his jean pockets, his military backpack slung over one shoulder. The kitchen staff moved out of Amandine’s way as she made her way to Tommy, moving in a trance-like pattern. 

“You’re home?” she asked. He smelled like the bayou. Faintly like aftershave. Smoke and whiskey. He’d not come directly here. 

“Here I stand,” he drawled, the deep baritone of his voice sending a chill down her spine like only he could. 

“I waited,” she said gently as desire filled his eyes. 

“I see,” he responded as she reached out to touch his cheek–touch a scar she hadn’t seen before. “Let’s go home, baby,” he said, her touch filling him with the deepest sense of belonging he’d felt in nearly eight years. 

The staff mumbled under their breath as their head chef walked out for the night, dinner tickets be damned. 

Amandine sensed a darkness in Tommy’s spirit. A darkness that wasn’t there before the war. Before Iraq. She guessed too many tours would do that to a person. Her heart felt heavy as he drove them through the windy southeast Louisiana streets, back to their once shared home. Before the war separated them. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. 

The bayou, their home, was dark. There weren’t too many streetlights on these two lane roads leading them to their home. The home they’d purchased at eighteen and nineteen before the world went upside down. 

Tommy drove his truck, the truck Amandine had been using the last seven years, up their gravel driveway, the motion sensor lights at the top of their home kicking on. It looked a little cleaner than when he had last seen it seven years ago. 

The garage was the entire bottom floor, two flights of stairs leading to the house above. In the swamp, a house on stilts, or raised houses, are normal to aid in air circulation and prevent flood damage when the inevitable hurricanes blasted through the swamp. Tommy tiredly dragged his legs up the steps, Amandine following behind him. 

He fumbled with his keys, finding the right one for the front door and unlocked it, shocked when he saw the difference in the house. “You fixed it up?” 

She smiled softly. “Yeah,” she looked at him nervously. “Daddy and Grandpere and the boys helped. Thought you might like it,” she said. 

He let his dusty backpack fall to the floor with a thud, closing and locking the door behind them before he pushed her up against the door, crashing his lips to hers. 

It was a mess of clothes and sloppy kisses, but they made their way to the bedroom where they devoured one another. 

The next morning they woke up next to each other for the first time in seven years. An uncomfortable silence had fallen between the two of them the night before, causing them to fall asleep with their backs to one another. Something had shifted–something had changed. 

“So,” Amandine began the next morning, sun streaming in through the slats of the blinds. “Who was she?” she asked. 

“Who was he?” Tommy asked, reaching for a cigarette on his nightstand. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” she said, sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard. 

“Deal,” he said nonchalantly, exhaling smoke. 

“Vincent Camponi,” she said. She could faintly see his jaw twitch in anger. 

“Grace Burgess,” he said, mind wandering to the blond he fell in love with at war. The one who had almost cost him his life. 

“Will you go to her?” Amandine asked. 

“Can’t,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “The curse,” he exhaled. “The bond,” he said, holding up his palm, the faint scar from where they’d joined themselves together in Gypsy tradition so many years ago. 

The curse he referred to, was also cast that night they made their vow. That if anything should separate them, they would be dually cursed for the rest of their days. Bad luck following. Their children would be cursed. Their families would be destined for doom. Their businesses would decline and their money would disappear. 

“Where’s Della?” he asked to change the subject. 

“With Mama and Daddy,” Amandine said. 

“Let’s go get her. No sense in keeping us all apart for any longer than we have to, hm?” he said, stubbing out his cigarette and walking to the shower. 

“Yeah,” Amandine said softly. “No sense in that.” 

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x amandine #louisiana au #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x ofc #thomas shelby #sneakyblinders #modern!tommy shelby #modern!tommyshelby x ofc

[fish-nailed-to-a-cross]

Happy Birthday, Bucket Girl!

The story behind this drawing is that Kanna invited nearly everyone she knows to go to the roller skating rink for her birthday and Kurumada couldn't make it because he hates skating, and instead just gave her a card written in monotone with a lame gift. The next time he saw her, however, he gave her a twenty dollar gift card because he really does care about her. Other notes about the drawing: The scarf is a gift from Sou and the striped shirt is from Alice. Not pictured is a bunny that Reko and Nao gifted her.

#yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #kanna kizuchi #aww teeny baby

[ash-the-porcupine]

Busita date night story, please? Make it fluffy and romantic! :)

Buster could not believe it. Did he ACTUALLY just ask Rosita out on a date? What had he just DONE?! He didn't know how to have a proper date with someone! What would he do? Where would he take her? What did Rosita love more than anything? What would he wear? His blue suit was one of the only nice things he owned, and he knew he had to look good for his first date with Rosita. (Or any date for that matter)

He calmed himself down a bit, practically pacing a hole in the rug. He would take her to Les Calmars, the nicest restaurant in Calatonia. Yeah, she would like that! But how would he go about the whole thing? He wanted it to be very special for her - for the both of them, really. 

He picked up his phone hesitantly, and typed in a phone number. He heard Ash answer almost immediately and blurted "IhaveadatewithRositabutIdon'tknowwhattodoorevenhowtogoonadatecorrectly!" he said, his tone rather panicky.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. Then Buster heard Ash burst out in hysterical laughter. He gave an unimpressed glamce at the phone before Ash managed to calm down and speak. "Omigosh, you actually invited her on a date? That's so cool! You want me to come over? I HAVE to help you, this is going to be awesome! You HAVE to tell me how it goes, too, because I would die without knowing-" she said with dramatic tones. Buster chuckled. 

"Alright. I'll tell you how it goes. But yeah, please come and help me, otherwise I'm going to make a fool of myself tonight."

"There! You look great, Buster! That's so perfect~" Ash squealed, snapping a photo of him with much excitement. Buster chuckled, nervous. He was wearing a nice black tuxedo (rented, but that's not important) and a matching bowtie with his usual white button-down shirt. "Where are you taking her?" 

"Les Calmars." he stated, wondering what Ash would think. 

"Woah! That place is for people who have the money to bathe in gold, I swear- She'll be so excited! Now, you have twenty minutes to go meet her, so, close up the theater and go on! I'll help Miss Crawly with the cleaning for you. Go on!" she gave him a playful shove. "Remember, you promised to tell me about it when you're back." 

Buster tugged his bowtie straight as he saw Rosita walking up to the restaurant where they were to meet up. He hid a rose behind his back as he approached her with a smile and a cheery greeting. Rosita returned this, looking very eager. Buster offered her the rose with a loving, beaming expression. "Aww," she hummed. "Thank you, Buster! That's so sweet!" 

Buster was glad he had fur, because he was sure his face was beet-red right now. He pushed open the door for her, holding it open as she came in. It was hard not to laugh at the site of Buster trying to keep the door open when the heavy thing kept trying to swing back closed, but Rosita didn't laugh, only grinned at the koala. 

She looked around the restaurant, evidently impressed - which Buster was very pleased to see as he offered her a chair at the table he had reserved for them early in the day. 

He passed her a menu, glancing at the flowers he had had the waiter put on the table before they got there. Rosita was admiring them for a moment before glancing at the menu. "What sounds good to you, Rosita?" he asked sweetly, looking up at her with a charming little smile.

Rosita giggled, finding this very much enjoyable. She loved it. …She loved Buster. Buster loved her dearly back. He had always liked her. Honestly, it explained why Rosita was recieving random candies in her rehearsal space every now and then. "I like the sound of the cheesy potatoes with that fancy soup they serve here." she told him cheerily. 

Buster nodded. "The soup is good, haven't tried to potatoes before. Though, at this point, I believe everything they serve here has to be at least decent, otherwise people wouldn't like it." he shrugged, his statement rather logical. "I love the salad and the soup a lot." he said. 

When the waiter came up to take their orders, Rosita was surprised to find that Buster had also ordered them fancy drinks before they had arrived. He had apparently put quite a bit of thought into this. 

Buster was very sweet and extra kind all throughout, and Rosita returned these affections. 

They talked about all manner of things, and had quite the wonderful time. They shared all sort of fulittle details and stories from various pointsi their lives, and all the crazy things they'd done as kids. Bustet had a surprising amount of stories of him and his dad, and Rosita enjoyed every one of them. Buster enjoyed each of Rosita's stories, too, as she spoke of her siblings and her friends and all the trouble they used to get into.

All in all, it was a wonderful first date. 

Buster even offered to walk Rosita home, and she accepted. As they neared her front door, she paused to say: "Thank you for tonight, Buster. It was wonderful." and with that she kissed the top of his head. 

Buster blushed, bright red. "I am very, very glad you enjoyed it Rosita. I did, too." he kissed her hand, earning a giggle as they exchanged 'good-night's and well-wishings and the night ended with beaming faces for both of them.

#buster moon #rosita #busita #date

[xtruss]

Brazilian Mourn Pelé At The Stadium Where He Got His Start

— By Mauricio Savarese

— January 01, 2023

SANTOS, Brazil (AP) — Thousands of mourners, including high school students and supreme court justices, began filing past the body of Pelé on Monday on the century-old field where he made his hometown team one of Brazil’s best.

The soccer great died on Thursday after a battle with cancer. He was the only player ever to win three World Cups, and he was 82.

Pelé’s coffin, draped in the flags of Brazil and the Santos FC football club, was placed on the midfield area of Vila Belmiro, the stadium outside Sao Paulo that was his home for most of his career. A Catholic Mass will be celebrated there Tuesday morning before his burial at a nearby cemetery. Brazil’s newly inaugurated President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva will come to Vila Belmiro shortly before Pelé’s coffin is removed from the stadium.

The storied 16,000-seat stadium was surrounded by mourners, and covered with Pelé-themed decorations. Fans coming out of the stadium said they’d waited three hours in line, standing under a blazing sun.

Forty-five years after Pelé played his last game, he’s still a central part of Brazil’s national story.

Geovana Sarmento, 17, came with her father, who was wearing a Brazil shirt with Pelé’s name.

“I am not a Santos fan, neither is my father. But this guy invented Brazil’s national team. He made Santos stronger, he made it big, how could you not respect him? He is one of the greatest people ever, we needed to honor him,” she said.

In the 1960s and 70s, Pelé was perhaps the world’s most famous athlete. He met presidents and queens, and in Nigeria a civil war was put on hold to watch him play. Many Brazilians credit him with putting the country on the world stage.

Caio Zalke, 35, an engineer, also wore a Brazil shirt as he waited in line. “Pelé is the most important Brazilian of all time. He made soccer important for Brazil and he made Brazil important for the world,” he said.

Rows of shirts with Pelé’s number 10 were placed behind one of the goals, waving in the city’s summer winds. A section of the stands was filling up with bouquets of flowers placed by mourners and sent by clubs and star players — Neymar and Ronaldo among them — from around the world as loudspeakers played a song named “Eu sou Pelé” (“I am Pelé”) that was recorded by the Brazilian himself.

Claudio Carrança, 32, a salesman, said: “I never saw him play, but loving Pelé is a tradition that goes from father to son in Santos. I learned his history, saw his goals, and I see how Santos FC is important because he is important. I know some Santos fans have children supporting other teams. But that’s just because they never saw Pelé in action. If they had, they would feel this gratitude I feel now.”

Santos FC said that more than 1,100 journalists from 23 countries were at the funeral. Dignitaries and friends of Pelé in attendance spoke at the funeral.

Among them was Pelé’s best friend Manoel Maria, who is also a former Santos player. “If I had all the wealth in the world I would never be able to repay what this man did for me and my family. He was as great a man as he was as a player; the best of all time. His legacy will outlive us all. And that can be seen in this long line with people of all ages here.”

FIFA President Gianni Infantino told journalists that every country should name a stadium after Pelé.

“I am here with a lot of emotion, sadness, but also with a smile because he gave us so many smiles,” Infantino said. “As FIFA, we will pay a tribute to the ‘King’ and we ask the whole world to observe a minute of silence.”

Another fan and friend in line was Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Gilmar Mendes.

“It is a very sad moment, but we are now seeing the real meaning of this legendary player to our country,” Mendes told journalists. “My office has shirts signed by Pelé, a picture of him as a goalkeeper, also signed by him. DVDs, photos, a big collection of him.”

Mendes also said Pelé was a humble man despite his global fame, and that he deserves every tribute.

The casket will be ushered through the streets of Santos before his burial Tuesday.

Pelé had undergone treatment for colon cancer since 2021. The medical center where he had been hospitalized said he died of multiple organ failure as a result of the cancer.

The soccer star led Brazil to World Cup titles in 1958, 1962 and 1970, and remains one of the team’s all-time leading scorers with 77 goals. Neymar tied Pelé’s record during this year’s World Cup in Qatar.

[boldlyvoid]

Cowboy Like Me | Chapter One: Tennis Court

Summary: Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Chapter Warnings: character backstories, narrative pov, weddings, town gossip, canon hotch trauma + mentions of past parental abuse

Word count: 4.1k

Masterlist

Our story starts in the middle, not only does it save me time as the narrator, but it also helps you guys avoid 2 months of eye-rolling-ly obvious idiots in love. But to catch you up, she ignored him, he was overly sweet, her father meddled and Jack, Aaron's son, loved to help.

With his rubber boots on, he followed Edison through the mud towards the broken gate at the back of the field, they had planned on fixing it that afternoon when he got off the school bus, but then Jack didn’t end up going.

You see, Jack hasn’t had the easiest time adjusting to the new life they were living. The kids at school didn’t like his new name, he felt like an outsider showing up 2 months into the school year, not knowing what was going on in his classes by day and at night he kept having recovered memories about the last time he was in witsec.

It was breaking Aaron's heart to watch, but the Y/L/Ns knew how to fix any and all forms of sad people.

Be it Grandpa Ed’s big bear hugs and long understanding chats, or the late-night painting sessions with Y/N when he couldn’t sleep (or woke up crying like he did last night), they both helped him tremendously. So that morning, Aaron watched Jack get all ready to follow Ed out to the farm and have a day with someone with who he connected to truly make himself feel better.

Aaron, on the other hand, got ready for the Ladies Luncheon that day. Wearing his best jeans and nicest plaid shirt, he smiled as soon as he walked into the kitchen. The smell of fresh croissants wafted his way before the chaotic sounds of dishes being done directed his attention to where he was needed.

“I got it,” he took over from Anne, her official title was Sous Chef but that translated to everything the Head Chef couldn’t do right that second.

“Thanks, Daren,” she used his new fake name, the only one she’s ever known for him.

“Oh thank God,” Y/N came bursting through the saloon doors, “I can’t deal with the Mayor and her friends alone today, the wedding is this weekend.”

“Oh shit,” Aaron remembers as well. “Let me finish set of dishes and I’ll be right out.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, rushing back out the door and into the main room.

“Oooo,” Gus, the head chef teases with his southern, “she’s bein’ nice to you today?”

“She is,” he can’t wipe the smile off his face. “We’ve come to an agreement, I just have to figure out how to tell my son…”

“About?” Gus pesters.

“We planned to only stay here till I got back on my feet,” he sticks to their cover. “But I think it’ll be better for all of us if we stayed here, and that’s all she wanted.”

“I knew it,” Anne points at Gus, “you owe me today's tips.”

“Not fair!” He chimes back. “Today's the Luncheon, they’re all loaded you can’t have them all today!”

“You were betting on us?” Aaron can’t believe it. This is something Emily and Derek would do back home, making him miss them more than he usually does.

He kinda just melts away into his thoughts after that, wondering how they’re all doing and wishing he could check-in. They just missed Hank’s first birthday, Henry turned 10, Emily turned 50 and Spencer 38… he missed Penelope’s antics and Luke trying to always make her smile. Tara’s comeback and Daves sarcasm. It wasn’t fair, but his life never was.

He goes from sombre to autopilot as the ladies arrive. Taking each of their coats and helping them to their seats. Y/N takes their orders and leaves Aaron to talk with them all.

Three ladies in total.

Rebekah is the Mayor, in her early 60’s still living on her first dead husband's money and letting her daughter burn through everything else. Loretta is another wealthy lady in town, she joins each week for the gossip but claims she's representing the HOA. While Henrietta is very open about the fact she’s just there to bitch about the week with the two ladies who can do something about it for her.

“From Farm to table, and the farms only about 10 feet from the table so you know it’s good,” Aaron teases as he places another two plates down at the table, making the ladies laugh like he did every Thursday.

“Thank you, hon,” Henrietta places her hand on his arm, looking up at him sweetly, “could you do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Would you mind askin’ Y/N if she needs any extra help for the weddin' this weekend? Elizabeth is my granddaughter, and ya see she didn’t want me helpin’ with the plannin’ cause she thinks I’m too pushy, well, I still want to help set up if I can, and I’d take any job you have as long as I can help for my little girls big day,” she lays on the sweetness to get her way.

“I can ask, I’m sure if you just show up around back any time I can find something for you to do?” Aaron offers, “I’m setting up the tent with the boys later tonight, if you’d like to help set out chairs and tables, you’re more than welcome to join.”

“Oh bless you,” she takes his hand with both of hers, shaking it with gratitude as she smiles up at him. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Is there anything else you ladies need before I head back to the kitchen?” He’s as kind as possible, knowing they tip Y/N extra well when he’s there.

“No, we’re okay,” they all manage to say at the same time, laughing right after and carrying on with the conversation, giving him a chance to slip away without anyone else asking him for things.

He slips into the kitchen to find Gus and Anne working away for the dinner shift, but Y/N’s nowhere to be seen. So he keeps walking, he heads out the back door and looks out at the fields where he knows he’ll find her. With a cup of tea in hand, she stands there in her big sweater and watches the world go by from her spot on the hill. Peaceful, content, beautiful.

“Hey,” he walks up to her cautiously, “Henrietta wants to come help set up for the wedding this weekend.”

“Of course she does,” she sighs. “Betty called me and said she’d probably ask.”

“Apparently Betty told her she’s pushy and wouldn’t let her help with the planning,” Aaron gossips, it was astounding how being in a small town brought that out of him.

She nods, “yep. But it’s also because Henrietta doesn’t like James, ever since he disappeared that one summer with Augusta… she doesn’t trust him. I wouldn’t either, but betty’s a strong woman, I know she wouldn’t let him get away with that again.”

“Oh shit,” Aaron didn’t know all that. “When did that happen?”

“When they were in high school, they had a very dramatic graduating class,” she laughs. “My group of friends didn’t go crazy till later on after we graduated.”

“Why do I feel like you know every secret in this town?”

“Well, when you own the only place in town that offers alcohol all day long, people tell you things,” she laughs it off, “but yeah, I know some things that could ruin this town.”

“How do you manage to keep all these secrets?” He whispers. “Like me… how are you able to call me Aaron in private and keep up the lie when I’m at work?”

“Daren isn’t that far off,” she smiles up at him. “And secret-keeping is easy if you have nothing to get out of them. They’re like ammunition in this town and I have no one to take out.”

“You’d be good in politics,” he teases.

She lays her hand on his arm as she laughs, leaning into his space and lightening right up to him. She used to be so closed off he never imagined they’d get here, it only took 2 months, but the wait was worth it.

From the moment he met her, he knew she was special. He showed up at her house at 4 in the morning with a scared 11-year-old and she knew exactly what to do. She had Jack's room all ready the next day with everything he needed for the school year, colouring supplied because Aaron said he loves to draw and open arms when he wanted support from someone other than his father.

For the first few days Jack barely looked at him, he was completely silent and it worried Aaron, but not Y/N.

He was in the barn, preparing the bottles for the goats when she walked up and startled him. “Sorry- I just need to ask something?”

He had a hand on his chest, heart beating hard inside as he caught his breath, “the barns so quiet, it’s not your fault. What’s up?”

“I’m hosting a painting party later tonight for the ladies, I was wondering if it’s okay if Jack joins? We’re following a Bob Ross episode, I think he’ll like it,” she adds with a smile.

“Sure,” Aaron smiles, “as long as you can get him out of his room, I’m fine with it.”

She lightly laughs, “he’ll be okay, you know that, right?”

He sighs, “I’m really hoping so.”

“I was his age when my mom died, my whole world changed at 11 too, it sucked for a while but as soon as I found my thing, everything got better,” she tries to cheer him up.

“You’re too nice,” he smiles at her.

She backs up then, smiling awkwardly back at him, “uh, yeah, that’s all wanted to ask. Thank you, I’ll bring him home around 9.”

“okay—“

That was just the beginning of her running away from him.

Like a mouse in the barn hiding from one of the cats, he knew that eventually one of them would give in to the other, it just took forever. He laid on the sweetness from there, complimenting her in the mornings, staying late to help her with the deliveries, organizing the shop for her so she could see the floor for the first time in years… he did everything in his power just to get her to talk to him, to possibly crack the shell she grew around her heart to keep it safe.

It finally worked.

“Are you excited for this weekend?” He asks, “I haven’t seen you put on a wedding here yet.”

“Excited, no,” she laughs, hand sliding down his arm and taking his hand in hers instead as she leads them back to the Inn. “Stressed out is better, these things can go wrong so quickly.”

“You’re holding my hand,” he bumps her shoulder as he tries to hold in a smile.

“It’s slippery out here,” she lies, nudging him back. “Wouldn’t want you to fall and break a hip, old fart.”

“You’re too darn cute,” he says just quiet enough for her to scoff at him.

“Your crush on me is what’s cute, I could hit you with a car and you’d be like wow she’s hot,” she teases him again.

The more she tried to bug him, the harder he fell for her. It’s been the case all along, when she couldn’t avoid him, she took the 8-year-old boy tactic of bullying him slightly. It was amusing to him, which just made her angrier.

“Stop being cute and I won’t act like this,” he combats as they approach the kitchen once more. “After you, boss lady.”

“Thank you, Daren,” she uses his fake name when they’re around people, it’s just close enough to his own name that his ears could get used to the change and it didn’t stand out. And he liked it.

Being Daren Colt the farmhand was like being back in high school, acting in the play and trying to get the pretty girl to talk to him. Sometimes life came full circle, sometimes old lessons have a way of becoming relevant in life again, and this time he decided he was going to do it right.

He was done being the adventurous hotshot FBI agent, willing to do whatever it took to help people… he’s helped so many people to try and make himself feel better but in the end, he's ended up hurting those closest to him.

Like Jess, she’s not in Georgia but she’s also in witsec, he can’t talk to her but he doesn’t imagine she wants to talk to him ever again. Not after being uprooted and sent away with her sick elderly father, sure it would save her life, but it would so fucking inconvenient that he’d hate himself for it too.

Jack, on the other hand, was coming around to it. He found a group of friends at his new school that he fits in with, he paints with Y/N on Sunday mornings and helps her with the breakfast shift after, he has responsibilities and he likes being with his dad almost all day every day. In a strange way, they both see this turn of events as a blessing.

Aarons falling in love with the woman Jack’s starting to love like a mother, he depends on Y/N in ways Aaron can’t compare with. She’s soft, she understands the pain of losing a mother and in turn losing a part of herself, she knows how it feels to hold in the emotions and what it does to someone who holds it for too long. Through art, they’ve processed their feelings, and from what Jack’s allowed Aaron to see, he’s doing just fine.

They both were.

—

She takes a deep breath when she hears Betty finally say “I do,” leaning in to kiss her new husband as the room erupts in cheers and the earth trembles as they jump to their feet.

It’s finally over.

She didn’t need to worry about anything else, the dinner was a potluck, the alcohol was on standby, the dance floor was waiting and she couldn’t wait to just sit down.

3 days of hard work paid off when she saw the girl she used to babysit walk down the aisle with the love of her life. She made it through the family drama, the guest issues, her grandmother… but it all worked out. James was a good man, he’s grown a lot, no matter what the gossip currently was.

Everyone complimented her on a lovely venue, asking how she managed to make every wedding so spectacular and personal at the same time, and it was simple. She listened. She took into account the people and their essence and made the day reflect the love they share. Today represented the start of forever, with one simple kiss they sparked the beginning of a new story that was to be passed along through generations as long as her lineage stayed in Evermory.

She sat down with a glass of wine and watched the toasts, the drunken stories about how their love came to be from everyone that witnessed it. The will they won’t they story that rocked the whole town that fateful summer. The funniest part was seeing August and Betty laughing it off together, with August even being one of her bridesmaids.

Everyone in town was there, in person and in spirit.

She knows her mom would have loved this, after all, this was always her dream. She knew the property had promise, she had drawings and concepts of a bed and breakfast all throughout Y/N’s childhood, if she focused hard enough she could even still hear her mother's sweet voice explaining it all to her.

Knowing she’d love the life Y/N lived made her more content than anything else could. Which was something she also had to remind herself of every time an old lady asked her when she’d be the one walking down the aisle.

“That Daren who works for you is mighty handsome,” Henrietta nudges her with her elbow, looking at her like she knows things Y/N hasn’t even admitted aloud yet.

“That he is,” she doesn’t disagree. “But I’m happy single, you should know that by now, I’m not the marrying type.”

“Oh come on,” she’s not having it at all. “I remember when you were little, your mama brought you to the luncheon and you somehow got into the linen closet and came out in a homemade weddin’ dress claiming you’d be gettin’ married as soon as you could. Where’s that little girl?”

“The love of her life died,” she snaps back, tired of being nice. “It’s not something I can just bounce back from, no matter how much time passes, you should know what that feels like.”

“I’m sorry,” she takes her hand and softly rubs it. Her wrinkled hand is velvety smooth as she stares up at her knowingly. “You’re so young sometimes I forget you’ve experienced so much heartbreak.”

“I’ll tell you this,” she smiles instead of dwelling on the past, “I think Daren is trying to court me, he’s just as cautious as I am he’s just a little more open with his attraction.”

“I knew it!” She squeezes her hand, “oh you two are so cute together.”

“Thanks,” she can’t help but get bashful. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go find him, he shouldn’t be working when we have a party to put on.”

“Yes, go on,” Henrietta cheers her on as she watches her leave.

She leaves the tent, past the garden and towards the barn. She holds her dress up from the mud, letting her cowboy boots take the mess they were made for. “Daren?” She calls, “are you out here?”

No response. She continues on past the gates, hearing the jingle of a cowbell as her main milking cow trots around to see her. She comes right up to her, getting a nice scratch on the head before nuzzling her arm. “Hey there miss marble, have you seen Daren?”

“Who’s askin’?” He teases as he follows around the same corner, “oh, it’s my favourite person.”

“Hi,” she lights right up. “Why aren’t you at the party?”

“Do you want me there?”

She nods, “of course.”

“Give me 10 minutes to get ready and I’ll join you,” he wipes his hands n his overalls. “Here, let me help you get out of here,” he reaches for the hem of her dress and holds it up from the mud, “after you.”

“Why thank you,” she begins to walk out, it felt nice to let him be so generous. Instead of pushing him away, she welcomed his kindness, it was a nice change.

“You look beautiful by the way, I’m not sure if I’ve told you yet today,” he adds, following her with a big smile on his face.

“You have, but thank you,” she feels the heat rising in her cheeks as she tries to hold in a smile. “I’ve never really seen you all dressed up before, you know.”

“You’ll see it again on Monday night,” he teases as he drops the train of her dress now that they’re out of the mudded area.

“I’m actually pretty excited,” she turns to him with a smile, “I’m still sorry it took so long for me to just talk to you and get over myself.”

“It’s more than okay,” brushes it off. “You had every right to be skeptical.”

They stopped at the guest house, “well, I guess I’ll see you out there?”

“You will,” he nods, gently laying his hand on her shoulder as he passes her and heads into the house.

He didn’t linger, she wished he did because the next time she saw him was hours later.

—

He’s sat at the bar, beer in hand as he watches the bride and groom dance around the empty dance floor. He doesn’t know them well, he only knows them through Y/N’s stories from high school. Her graduating class was a wild one, with cheating and parties, rich people, murders and a now-famous actress.

Jack's dancing with the kids around his age, the older crowd has gone home and it’s just a few stragglers left on the old tennis court turned wedding venue. It was astounding how 1 white tent was able to change the whole scenery that he’s come to know and love so much.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Y/N in the yard waving off the mayor and her daughter as they head out for the night. It’s his chance to steal her away next and so he takes it.

Walking right out to her, “come dance with me?”

She laughs, “oh I don’t know about that, it seems pretty dangerous for me to dance with you.”

“Why’s that?” He takes her hand in his, leading her to the side gate where the music still reaches but they can be alone.

“We still haven’t had a date,” she reminds him as she follows. “I thought you’d be more old-time-y and romantic than this.”

“Dancing in the dark surrounded by roses, that’s pretty romantic,” he laughs as he pulls her in close, hand on her waist and the other lifted in position.

She follows her lead automatically, with a wild smile and glossy eyes. “You are something else, Aaron.”

She scoffed but he knows it’s from a place of love. It’s one he’s heard before, from 2 different voices that loved him before her. It was something he used to identify when he had his hooks in someone. When they rolled their eyes, looked away real quick and cleared their throat before turning back to him, that’s when he knew he had them.

“Can I ask you something?” He swiftly changes the topic, lost in her eyes and the thought of her liking him, he knew almost nothing about her.

She nods, “shoot.”

“Why did you decide to turn your childhood home into a bed and breakfast?”

She sighed, “well, my mom had some money and when she got sick she put it all in my name and told me when I turned 18 I could access it and live my life to the fullest and make her proud… I remember how much she loved having the ladies over for lunch on Thursday, all the moms in town took me in after she passed and made sure I was taken care of from a feminine side of things,” she got into the nitty-gritty details with him like it was nothing new.

Only Aaron has no idea she’s never told anyone this.

“So I went to school to study hospitality for a few years, I asked the mayor for a personal loan that would in return boost the local economy and I created a space where I can take care of the town that raised me,” she lets go of his hand to wipe a tear.

Instead of taking his hand again, she pulls him in tighter, with her arms around him in a tight bear hug she rests her cheek on his chest, “that’s a fact just for you, don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Keeping a secret for you is the least I can do—

“You’re a poet,” she manages to laugh with a sniffle.

He laughs too, “what was her name?”

“My mom?” She clarifies, waiting for his hum to know she’s on the right track. “Marjorie… what’s yours?”

“Her name was Candace,” he’s solemn. “she was an interesting woman.”

“Your dad?”

He shakes his head, “rather not.”

“sorry…”

“Don’t, it’s okay, really. I just don’t want to taint these memories,” he presses his lips together awkwardly. “My father was a terrible man, nothing like your father, it’s no wonder Jack’s so drawn to him.”

“He’s the best,” she agrees. “I’m glad he got your case.”

“Me too,” he can’t believe his ears.

“Also,” she hesitates, “I never really thanked you when I did all my apologizing.”

“For what?”

“Making me laugh so much,” she’s brutally honest. “I don’t have many good friends, I may know everyone in town but I’ve never had someone like you in my life.”

“That’s a damn shame,” he lowers his voice as he looks deep into her eyes. Hands trail from her hips, over her arms as they erupt in goosebumps and finally, one hand cups her cheek. His thumb caresses her cheek as she leans into it, “but then again, I’m glad that you’re all mine now.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head playfully, “not so fast. You still have more wooing to do.”

“I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” he teases her back.

“We’ll see about that, cowboy.”

Permanent tag list

@goldensonlyangel @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13 @lonewolf471 @a-mended-pact @ssa-uglywhore27 @hotchandspencearedilfs @venomsvl

@fightingdragonswithreid @mortallythoughtfulgurl @bohemianrhapsody86 @allybatch @crypticcorvidinacottage @reidslibrarybook @mrsobrien888 @malindacath @simplyparker @gspenc @spenciesprincess @mrskatpotter @starrylang

@hotched @mrs-dr-reid

#criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. 

a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry​ playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!

WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn 

WARNINGS: angst and some smut 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share <3

It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables. 

He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him. 

He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist. 

The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it. 

He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven. 

“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was. 

Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served. 

“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?” 

“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding. 

“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.” 

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before. 

He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads. 

“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.” 

“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle. 

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today. 

Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand. 

“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man. 

Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?” 

You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile. 

Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her. 

Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while. 

Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?” 

“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment. 

Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked. 

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly. 

Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last. 

You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind. 

“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?” 

You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.” 

“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.” 

“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen. 

You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry. 

The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed. 

Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked. 

Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins. 

You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes. 

For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him. 

You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table. 

Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived. 

Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other. 

You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room. 

Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room. 

“How was your first day?” He smiled. 

“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.” 

“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling. 

“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.” 

“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay. 

The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift. 

Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else. 

As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles. 

Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked. 

“Yeah?” You raised your brows. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave. 

He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are. 

The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift. 

Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day. 

Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew. 

As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock. 

“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.” 

“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.” 

“Here? For what?” You asked curiously. 

“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.

You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers. 

“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest. 

“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up. 

You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you. 

“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight. 

“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”

“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” 

“Love.”

“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him. 

Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it. 

You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her. 

Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you. 

“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table. 

Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted. 

“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked. 

“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you. 

Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation. 

Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.” 

You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed. 

“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you. 

You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night. 

Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table. 

Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest. 

You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night. 

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you. 

“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.

“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely. 

“Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage. 

“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation. 

You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics. 

The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry. 

Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well. 

“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.” 

“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained. 

“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?” 

“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath. 

“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him. 

You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?” 

“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside. 

Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more. 

You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy. 

Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did. 

It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college. 

Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it. 

The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought. 

There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible. 

Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone. 

Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars. 

“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling. 

“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”

“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing. 

Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach. 

“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.” 

Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls. 

“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay. 

“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon. 

As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you. 

The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes. 

He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness. 

Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you. 

Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name. 

“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.

“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture. 

“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”

He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”

“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained. 

You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else. 

Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?” 

You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that. 

You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now.  A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane. 

You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.” 

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you? 

“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.” 

You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind. 

“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did. 

Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship. 

It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual. 

But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it. 

Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room. 

When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart. 

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly. 

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.” 

“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?” 

“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm. 

Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”

“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”

Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 

Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe. 

The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you. 

Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that. 

“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him. 

“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools. 

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else. 

The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad. 

You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker. 

Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your  cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other. 

You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly. 

“Thank you, you are too.” 

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other. 

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously. 

“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 

“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans. 

“Care to share?” 

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.” 

The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.” 

“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.” 

He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?” 

Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.” 

With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands. 

His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene. 

Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his. 

You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.” 

“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle. 

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed. 

Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.” 

“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you. 

The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place. 

His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out. 

Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present. 

You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do. 

Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you. 

His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck. 

“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants. 

“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip. 

He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables. 

Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses. 

“Harry…” you whined. 

“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked. 

“Please, take it off.” 

“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused. 

He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm. 

“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling. 

“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration. 

“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.” 

Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face. 

“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows. 

For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue. 

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks. 

“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad. 

“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips. 

He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release. 

“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak. 

“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand. 

Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly. 

“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.

“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants. 

You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants. 

“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way. 

You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused. 

Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate. 

“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth. 

Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets. 

As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him. 

“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing. 

So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum. 

Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent. 

He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile. 

“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue. 

“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.” 

“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.” 

You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that. 

“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek. 

“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?” 

Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes. 

Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change. 

You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it. 

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep. 

Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving. 

You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands. 

“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking. 

“Harry…”

“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold. 

“No, that’s not it-”

“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations. 

“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with. 

“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”

“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”

“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.” 

“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock. 

“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable. 

“Okay…” 

“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much. 

“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth. 

“This feels right.” 

Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch. 

“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug. 

“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off. 

“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder. 

After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation. 

“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.

He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle. 

You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. 

Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss. 

You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head. 

“Slow.” 

Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right. 

please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #hs

[kudouusagi]

Rin’s birthday story

I can hear Haru's breathing from the lane next to me. The water is hot.

This is a dream. I know that. But I kept swimming anyway. Haru's pulse echoes through the water and I cut through that water with a rough stroke. My breathing naturally sped up. It's the first time I've felt this in a while. Even after I woke up from the dream, I felt a bit dazed from the after effects of it for a while.

This morning I only had light training in the morning and then in the afternoon I planned to rest. I changed out of my sweaty shirt and headed towards the training location. I had more strength in my legs than usual. A red light obstructed my good pace and I came to a stop. Then I heard the sound of a notification on my phone. I looked at the message on the screen.

"Happy birthday! We're always cheering you on! Don't overdo it and be nice to your muscles sometimes, okay?♪ Mom and Gou"

Attached is a picture of Gou and Mom smiling. The serious faced Steve, who mom is holding, also looks somewhat happy. I quickly sent back words of thanks and opened the door to the pool facility.

"Rin-kun, Today's your birthday, right!? Hmm~ Seriously happy birthday!"

After saying that Coach Mikhail advised me on my form and breathing. The limited time period might have increased my concentration. Since the time passed in no time.

After drinking from the sports drink I had with me to rehydrate, I got my bag and left the facility.

The next thing I knew, I was being grabbed by arms from behind. Since I was so surprised, my body froze.

"We've come to get you, Rin♡" "Sorry for surprising you!"

When I turned around I saw Kisumi and Makoto's smiling faces.

"Huh!? Woah, you guys, what are you doing!?"

It was no use. They acted like they didn't even hear my objections. They just kept pulling me and shoved me in the backseat of a car. There was a familiar face sitting in the driver's seat.

"You're in on this too? Sousuke?"

"Don't worry, I'll drive us there safely. Huh? Hey Kisumi, it's this lever right?"

Woah woah woah, that doesn't make me feel safe! When I met Sousuke's eyes, his gaze softened.

"Sorry, it's my first car"

I couldn't help but laugh. He stepped on the accelerator. The engine roared. Unlike I had feared, the four of us traveled safely in the fast kei car*, and we arrived at a building I didn't recognize. The door opened with force.

"Ma~tsuoka~!!!" 

"Rin-senpai!"

"Happy birthday~~~!!!"

The sound of crackers popping all at once reverberated. Mikoshiba-senpai looked happy and then Ai and Momo jumped out with smiles on their face.

"I am honored to meet this 'special day' with you!"

"Now come on! Sit in the birthday seat!" 

Ai and Momo pulled my hand and led me to a seat.

The place was full of really exciting food and decorations. There were only carbonated drinks and the background music was a western song I heard a lot in the dorms. There are types of foods you don't normally see at a party like donburi ramen and the huge onigiri we ate at the school cafeteria. Huh, what's with this throwback......? I tilted my head to the side in confusion and then a video letter from Nagisa and Rei started playing.

"Rin-chan, happy birthday! I hope you're having fun. It's amazing isn't it? It was produced by Sou-chan!!!"

Behind Nagisa who was taking up the whole screen, I heard Rei say "Nagisa-kun, that was off the record!" 

"That it was produced by Sou-chan??"

Then Kisumi blurted out,

"Haha, actually, it started when Sousuke said 'how about we make a party so nostalgic it makes him cry?' and asking everyone how to do it......"

Sousuke lightly shoved Kisumi's head as he was talking lively.

"Kisumi, don't just tell him those things."

He put up with Ai and Momo's laughing. I see, so this feeling like it's a Samezuka class reunion is because of Sousuke......?

"Thanks, Sousuke!"

"Yeah......"

Sousuke turned his head to the side a little and pouted. I saw him do that many times when we were kids, it's how he acts when he's embarrassed. Sousuke is still Sousuke. Even though I never even imagined back then that I would be hanging out with you like this now back then.

After we ate, Momo and the others started playing a board game they played a lot at the dorms. Suddenly Makoto sat next to me and pulled a wooden owl out of his pocket.

"This arrived at my place this morning. I think it's probably a present for you."

"Hm? What is this?"

Not understanding his words, I looked at Makoto. 

"I think since he's at a high altitude training camp right now and can't give it to you himself, he sent it to me"

Oh, I see. The one who sent this weird present was surely...... Makoto gave a small nod.

"Hehe, it kinda looks like you doesn't it?"

I said "What's with that?" and took the wooden owl* from Makoto while laughing. The more I look at it the less I understand his taste. But it's really like him. I guess it can't be helped, I'll accept it.

My body was engulfed in heat. I made a promise in my head to start swimming even more like myself tomorrow. 

Thanks all you guys!

*a kei car is an ultra light car with a small engine. *owls are signs of good luck because the Japanese word for owl(fukuro) sounds similar to the japanese word for luck(fuku)

#Free! #birthday story #matsuoka rin

[jimlingss]

Kitchen Romance

➜ Words: 11.1k

➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Chef!AU

➜ Summary: You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors' ancestors were matchmakers and it's all because of a special, inborn gift. A gift that allows you to see each person's fated ones above their heads. But it's not so much a gift when one day, your boss walks in with YOU above him.

cr.

The kitchen is in chaos.

The heat swelters in the still air, stifling with the summer warmth that’s forced most people indoors with air conditioning. But here, there’s no such privilege. Not when open fires on frying pans were at every stovetop and grease was splattering everyone like a water fountain show. You feel yourself being roasted alive, a layer of oil sitting on top of your skin, and there’s barely a moment to wipe away the sweat rolling from your hairline.   Your hands are wrinkled as you scrub down the nth dish from the pile that’s stacked above your head, but before you can finish, Taehyung’s desperately calling out for you. You shout back at him that you’re coming and then you’re helping him peel the potatoes.   There’s no room to complain. Especially not when—   “What is this?!”    For a moment, time itself stops.   The pandemonium halts, fire flickering, knives held mid-air. Everyone’s head has swiveled over to the dark-haired man standing at the end of the island. Kim Seokjin holds up a plate of baked salmon with methi prawns. His plump lips are pulled downwards. That’s never a good sign.   “The presentation is sloppy!” he yells and you flinch from the sheer volume of his booming voice. “Are you people blind?! We can’t serve this! It’s an embarrassment! Do it again!”   “Yes, chef!”    Everyone apologizes, including you, and Seokjin huffs, moving out of the kitchen.   Namjoon, sous-chef, shakes his head. “Focus! Dinner service hasn't even begun yet!”   Luckily, everyone’s on edge and meticulous enough with Seokjin walking around and scrutinizing every action that the rest of the night goes off without another hitch. By the end, you’re finishing up on cleaning and washing the dishes.   “Good night, Y/N.” Jihyo waves, bag strap slung on her shoulder.   “See you.” You muster a smile while you keep scrubbing. “Bye.”    “Night,” Yoongi says while Taehyung fixes you a grin. You watch them leave and then focus on completing the rest of your tasks. It’s not long before you’re switching all the lights off and changing from your uniform.    The walk back to your apartment proves to be excruciating. You’re beyond exhausted, lugging your legs along to carry the rest of your body while forcing your eyes to remain open, so you can at least see where you’re going.    When the door opens, you immediately jump into the shower to wash off the grime, nearly falling asleep in the process. By the time you flop onto your bed, your hair is still dripping wet, but as your muscles ease into the mattress, you’re knocked out into a deep slumber.   Rest is merely a blink of time.   The alarm on your phone is blaring before you can dream or feel even remotely refreshed. It’s deafening to your ears and you reach over to shut it off. Finding the sun already up in the sky, you force yourself to sit up, get ready, grab breakfast and eat on your way to work.   “If it’s too hard, you should come home,” the voice on the other side of the line coaxes. “Your dad and I are so worried about you sometimes.”   “I’m fine, mom.” You’re chewing in your cheek, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder as you parade down the block. “Trust me.”   “Have you at least been eating well?”   You glance at the granola bar in hand. “Yeah. Sort of.”   “The city is scary. There’s no shame in coming home, dear. Your grandma misses you a lot. She always asks about you.”   “I’m fine, mom,” you reassure her for the second time. “I really am. And tell grandma—”   Accidentally, your shoulder collides with a businessman’s. Apologies spring from you, but rather than looking at the stranger like you should be, your eyes unintentionally wander above his head. To the cloud of fog. And a woman’s smiling face you see emerge from it.   The man’s brows lift at how you’re staring into space and he moves out of the way.   You’re forced out of your trance and you continue to apologize until he’s completely gone from sight. You damn yourself for not being more careful.   You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors’ ancestors were matchmakers.    Your mother once told you that back in the day, some peasants in your family couldn’t sew, sell or do any labour, so they begged heavens and out of pity, they were granted a small gift. A gift that’s been passed down to every generation since. While you’re not sure if the story is true or not, what’s certain is that from the moment you were born, you could see a cloud of fog above everyone’s head. It’s like speech bubbles or thought bubbles in comic strips. But instead of words, the fog comes with another person’s face. It’s the one who they’re meant to be with.   Ironically enough, you’ve never seen one above your own head. Though you’ve come to accept that. Romance will never be a major aspect of your life, so you’ve switched gears into focusing on your career and finding fulfillment elsewhere. You also knew early on that you didn’t want to be a matchmaker like the rest of your family.   You want to be a—   “Good morning, chef.”   “Good morning.” Namjoon nods with a smile. “Things weren’t too bad yesterday, but let’s try to be less sloppy for dinner service tonight. Hoseok, what time is the shipment of seafood coming in?”   Namjoon continues going through the daily routine, updating each person on the schedule and the shipments. But it’s not long during the morning meeting in the kitchen that the back door creaking can be heard.    Instantly, everything comes to a halt. Everyone turns themselves and greets the head chef simultaneously.    Seokjin rounds the corner. “We have a lot to do today, people. Tonight’s special is going to be watermelon with smoked salmon mousse—”   You gasp.   Automatically, your hands lift to cover your mouth, yet too late to muffle the loud noise. Your eyes are as large as saucers. Your heart stutters in your chest, nearly giving out.   Instead of the polished brunette woman above Seokjin’s head that was always there, you see someone else. Someone very familiar that you’ve seen in the mirror a thousand times. You.   You’re frozen — palms clammy, knees weak. And everyone’s turned around to stare, even Kim Seokjin himself. His brow is cocked and he eyes you intensely for daring to interrupt him.   “Are you okay?” Jihyo whispers, leaning in and nudging you with her elbow.   You start to breathe again, frantically. Yet no matter how much you gasp for air, you can’t feel the oxygen entering your lungs. But you force yourself to bow your head anyway, retaining an exterior that’s not oozing of sheer panic. “S-S-Sor..ry. I…. have something in my throat.” You clear it and Seokjin sighs, continuing with what he was saying.   The first task is to wash the salad and it’s easy enough, but your eyes continue to wander up to the dark-haired, doe-eyed man from across the kitchen. Black shirt with a white apron around his waist, he emanates intimidation from his god-like looks alone and constant frown.   Your eyes connect and you instantaneously whip yourself around.   You start to sweat when Seokjin beelines to you.   “Do you have an issue with me?”   You shake your head furiously.   “Then focus!” the man spits. “You’re drowning the salad!”   You wince as he slams the faucet down.   This can’t be. This can’t be it. It doesn’t make sense whatsoever.   On your break, you’re crouched over by the bathrooms and much to your dismay, your mom is hysterically laughing at you. “Just because you never saw your match, doesn’t mean you’re alone, Y/N! Poor soul, where did you ever get that idea from? No one can see their own. I didn’t and neither did your aunt or grandma.”   “Why didn’t you tell me that?” The syllables hiss out of you and you spare a glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s coming.    You’ve come to accept that you would never be romantically involved with anyone. To find out that Seokjin, your boss, is your match out of everyone, it’s taking you for a hysteric spin.   “I thought you already knew!” she exclaims on the other line. “Plus, nothing comes from knowing your own. But who is it? Are you going to bring them home? I would love to know what sort of person is going to end up with my dear daughter. Oh, your grandma will be so excited to hear the news!” “Now’s not the time, mom,” you grieve, palm pressed to your forehead. There’s an overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m never going to end up with him.”   “You can’t change fate, Y/N.”   “Fate changes all the time.”   “Are you okay?” There’s a lower voice behind you and you flinch, turning around to see Hoseok’s alarmed expression.    You stand up, apologizing internally as you hang up on your mom. “Sorry. It...was a family emergency. But everything’s fine.”   “Okay. Well, Namjoon wants you to grab some more flour from the storage room.”   “I’ll be right on it.”    You swiftly return back to work before you risk losing your job any more than you have today. But all the while, you damn yourself. This is the worst thing that could’ve happened.    You ending up with Kim Seokjin, the scary boss that notoriously fires people in your position, is the last thing you wanted to occur. It’s like you’re living in a nightmare where you’re the only one who’s aware of your own dire circumstances and inevitable doom.   //   “Would it be that bad if he fell in love with you?” Hyoyeon eyes you lazily from across the table as she stirs her drink with her straw. She’s one of your oldest friends who happen to live in the city and one of the few who knows about your gift.   “Yes. It would be that bad!” You’re exasperated. You thought she would be up and arms about it like you are. “How could I ever look at my boss like that?!”   “You never know,” Hyoyeon sing-songs much to your chagrin.   “Don’t give me that. How would you like it if your boss fell in love with you?”   “My boss is a Karen going into her sixties.”   “Exactly.”   Her lips pop off her straw, wearing a visage of distaste. “This and that aren’t the same, Y/N. I didn’t think Soobin would be with me and when you told me, I was mad. But look at us now! He’s not half bad.”   “You’re married.”   “Precisely.” She laughs, practically glowing from happiness. “And you know, Seokjin isn’t bad either. He’s like what? Only a few years older than you. Ambitious. Wealthy. Handsome. He did that one photoshoot for that magazine and he was so goddamn handsome. Like holy fuck, I almost got pregnant from just—”   “Alright. I get it.”   “—and he’s like one of the top chefs of the country. Imagine having that kind of food for the rest of your life.”   “That’s not going to happen,” you mumble. If it changed once, it can change again.   The more you think about it, the more assured you become. You’ll do everything in your power to change it.   //   The kitchen has fallen into a lull.    Jihyo, the pantry chef, works on tossing salads while the butcher chef, Yoongi, is filleting fresh tuna. Sauté chef Hoseok is preparing his piccata sauce while you help Taehyung, the entremetier, with ingredients for the soup. Everyone has their designated roles here, most of which are fancier than yours. As a kitchen assistant, if you aren’t helping Taehyung then you’re washing dishes. But everyone needed to start from somewhere, so you aren’t going to complain. Working for Kim Seokjin is a privilege, albeit, he’s fearsome and hard to please.   You clear your throat. “Has...anyone seen that woman lately?”   Taehyung turns his head. “Who?”   “That woman came to the restaurant a few times and was with Chef Kim....”    A petite and dainty physique. Long, dark hair. Her eyes glimmered in the light and her pinked lips pulled softly when she greeted you all. She was poised, oozed of grace, sophistication, money. And she was the one who you saw above Seokjin’s head since you met him. Hell, you saw him above her head, and while you were surprised that in spite of his scariness, he actually had someone, they strangely suited each other well.   They were supposed to be together.    Until recently.   You wonder what happened. What the change was. Why you’re suddenly his match now.   Jihyo turns around, ears perked from the conversation. “Right! I haven’t seen her around lately either! I wondered if something happened.”   “You mean Kim Jisoo?” Yoongi lolls his head to the side and when Taehyung gives a curious expression as to how he knows, he says, “Hoseok and I were sent to her flower shop to pick up an order once.”   “Were they even dating?” Taehyung asks, looking up from where he’s chopping cucumbers.   “They were,” Namjoon pipes up and you look towards him, having expected him to shut down the conversation around the head chef, but he merely smiles. “But I haven’t seen her recently either.”   Jihyo hums. “I wonder if something happened.”   “Maybe they broke up,” Yoongi offers absentmindedly.   “Well, that wouldn’t be surprising.” Taehyung pauses and looks over to you, lifting a brow as if trying to find an ally. “He seems like he can be pretty hard to get along with.” But the opinion isn’t unpopular and there are several snickers throughout the kitchen.   “Seokjin’s just serious about his work,” Hoseok says with a smile. “But they were pretty serious.”   “Really?” You turn to Namjoon directly. It’s not often that you’d be so straightforward, but you want answers. You want explanations. “Did he ever say anything to you? On what could’ve happened?”   He shakes his head and then there’s a loud boom of the backdoor. Your blood runs cold. Everyone’s eyes widen, but there’s no time to react or to take back what he could’ve heard. Seokjin walks in with his eyes narrowed in on you specifically. “If all of you have enough time to talk about my personal life, then you can work twice as hard and twice as fast tonight.”   Everyone holds in their sighs.    With your downcast head, your eyes search the floor. “I’m sorry, chef.”    But the apology falls onto deaf ears.   //   It’s a busy shift.   With your tail caught in between your legs, it’s either a cutting board in front of you with a knife in hand or plates and a rough sponge by the sink. Oil from the fryer nearby splashes onto you, the grease coating bowls staining your apron, the heat sticking your tied back hair to your scalp.    Yet you wish you could do more.    Not just chop bell peppers, finely mince garlic or prepare starches. Not just rinsing bowls to stack into the dishwasher and wash large pots and plates by hand. While you’ve become accustomed to knives, keeping a rapid and constant beat as you slice whatever is in front of you, you wish you could cook. Not just be an accessory to the kitchen. Or an extra member to assist the chefs.    But for now, you count your blessings. Humming to yourself late at night while you finish.   “What are you still doing here?”   The crystal clear voice has you flinching, startled to death and you turn around to see Kim Seokjin in the flesh. White shirt rolled to his elbows, black trousers, expensive Rolex on his wrist that could pay the rest of your student loans with. You gawk at him. Speechless. Scared.   He doesn’t wait for you to find your tongue, dismissing your silence. “Where are the others? They should be cleaning up too. Just because dinner service is over, doesn’t mean they can leave.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, no longer speaking to you but himself. “I won’t have anyone slacking in my kitchen.”   “I-It’s fine, chef.” Your voice is barely a squeak, but you muster the courage, not wanting them to get yelled at tomorrow. You turn around, quickening up your scrubbing until your nails start to hurt. “I’m supposed to be washing the dishes anyway.”   “It shouldn’t be taking you this long.”   You wonder if he’s scolding you.   It goes silent.   “Finish up and go change,” Seokjin says shortly and you nod. It takes another ten minutes for the task to be completed and then you’re wiping down the counters before heading to the lockers to change out of your apron and uniform.   Usually, you’d come out, turn off all the lights and begin the final trek home. But today, your blood runs cold. Your mouth fills with cotton when you step out. Against your own assumption, the head chef has not in fact left. Instead, Seokjin is leaning against the counter with his coat on, furiously tapping on his phone with his thick brows furrowed like they usually are.   You swallow hard and bow your head as you pass him. “Good night, chef.”   “Wait.”   Immediately, you halt. He pockets his device. “Are you walking?” The absence of an answer is enough of an indication for him. “I’ll drive you. It’s dangerous to walk home at this time of night.”   It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t an offer either. It’s a command.    And soon, you discover yourself in his expensive Mercedes. The vehicle is black, sleek and you’re afraid of touching the leather seats more than you have to in case you stain it with poverty and have him sue you for damages. Or fire you.    “Turn left,” his fancy navigation system deadpans and it startles you.    Yet Seokjin is undeterred and with one hand on the wheel, he turns at the light, allowing the car to roll smoothly over the pavement. The passing lamp posts’ glow also illuminate his features, his plump lips and the slope of his nose. If Hyoyeon was here she would be salivating at the sight, how his chin is lifted, head slightly cocked. You would be too, if you weren’t so afraid. Kim Seokjin exudes confidence and intimidation, rightfully so too. He’s worlds out of your league.   And as your eyes stray from his profile to focus on the cloud above his head, your smiling expression still emerges.   You don’t understand how someone like you can be with someone like him.   “Is there something on my face?”   His question leaking with annoyance shakes you out of your trance and you tear your eyes away from him frantically to look out the window. “N-No.”   The tense quietness that follows is enough that you want to bang your head against the dashboard and hope you get knocked out to spare you from this awkwardness. Then again, you might just end up with a bruise and his car repair bill which would be even wors—   “You won’t be seeing Jisoo anymore,” Seokjin suddenly says and your head swivels to him. “She decided to cheat on me and that was a deal breaker, so I broke it off.”   “Oh.”   “I didn’t know you were one for gossip, but go ahead and tell the others if you’d like.”   “I..I’m sorry.” Your downcast head faces your lap and you swallow hard. “It’s personal and I shouldn’t have intruded or asked. It was wrong and unprofessional of me for bringing it up.”   “No.” There’s a moment of silence as he looks straight ahead. “It was wrong of me to act the way I did.” You blink wide-eyed and Seokjin parks at the curb. “My reaction was a bit uncalled for — it’s something I’m still working on.”   You stare at him and finally, the man meets your gaze. “You can get out now.”   “O-Oh.” You scramble out the car. “T-Thank you.”   The moment the door shuts, he drives off.   Fate can be changed. It’s rare, but choices influence futures and who someone ends up with can change depending on the actions they take. You just never expected Seokjin’s reason for the change to be so heartbreaking. Even if he stated it factually and his expression never wavered, you could sense it in his voice. The sadness you didn’t know he could possess.   //   “What made you think I would like him?” Jihyo is exasperated as she wipes down the counter and Taehyung grins as he sweeps the floor. “The guy literally kept on going about rock climbing, bungee jumping and skydiving. Do I look like an adrenaline junkie to you, Kim Taehyung?”   “Hey, hey. Yeonjun is nice, okay? I just thought you would be into the rough look.”   “Not at all. This is the last time I’m letting you set me up.”   Yoongi smirks as he passes by. “I’ll take it that your blind date didn’t go well?”   Jihyo glares at him.    Hoseok turns around with an amused smile. “It was your fault with trusting Taehyung with this sort of thing. What kind of guy are you into? Maybe I could set you up with someone better.”   She sighs wistfully. “I don’t even know anymore. I just want someone reliable and half decent.”   In the meanwhile, your eyes flicker up to the cloud above her head. There’s a bright eyed young man there and you smile, unloading the dishwasher as you continue listening to their conversation.    “See? It wasn’t my fault!” Taehyung pipes up to defend himself. “How am I supposed to know what kind of person you’d be into if you don’t know yourself?”   “Oh, so you know?”   “Of course I do!” He scoffs and becomes dreamy as he muses, “I want someone with long hair and dresses fashionably, someone who’s sweet and gentle, like a puppy.”   But based on the person above him, they appear rougher around the edges with shorter hair and a frown. But you let Taehyung have it, not commenting a single word. You’ve learnt from experience that it doesn’t work well if you come out of nowhere and try to involve yourself.    They continue talking about ideals, even Namjoon that pinches in he’s been seeing someone lately — an old friend who he went to school with that he never thought of romantically until recently. You’re having fun just listening in until the question is directed at you.   “Me?” You laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know either. I haven’t really thought about it before.”   “Oh, don’t give me that.” Taehyung nudges you. “Everyone has some idea.”   But you’ve sincerely never considered it before. You always thought you would live in solitude without another companion and even came to terms with it. But things have changed. “I guess….someone kind and considerate. Thoughtful. I don’t care what they do, except that they have to be a good person.”   It might be a generic answer, but as you think about Seokjin, you know you don’t want someone domineering and frightening. Yet from last night, Seokjin didn’t seem so daunting in the car.   “Yeah, I can see that.” Jihyo nods.   “What about Chef Kim?” you ask, eyes glistening in the light, curious beyond belief. “What do you think his ideal is?”   The people around the kitchen hum, speculating over the boss’ preferences. They’re equally intrigued by the question.   “Anyone who won’t shit their pants when he’s around,” Taehyung laughs as he finishes sweeping and pours the grime from the dustpan into the trash.   As Yoongi wraps a bowl, he mindlessly offers, “He seems to like the serious type,”    “What was Jisoo like?” Jihyo asks, tapping her chin with a frown.   “Sophisticated,” Hoseok suggests and you look at him, breathing a sigh of relief. Out of all things, you were definitely not sophisticated. “Gentle.”   “Sweet,” Namjoon says with confidence, having known the man the most after years of working together, “He likes the hard-working and earnest ones who prove themselves to be more than he expects.”   As if summoning the devil himself, Kim Seokjin comes from the back area and walks straight through the kitchen. “Stop slacking,” he states in a monotone and everyone returns to their tasks with a simultaneous ‘yes, chef’.    But as he passes by you, he pauses for a moment. “Everyone needs to leave on time today. If there’s anything that isn’t clean, you need to work together so that it is.”   “Yes, chef,” sounds throughout the kitchen once more.   You know being passive won’t solve anything. You need to actively do something that will repulse him, make it so he’ll vow never to get involved with you. If he makes the decision, fate itself will change and you won’t have to end up together.    The only plausible strategy to repulse you have at the moment is to embody the reverse of what Seokjin’s ideals are. The opposite of what appeals to him — sophisticated, sweet and gentle.   //   It takes you a while to pinpoint what the exact opposite is. But you find it.    Loud. Obnoxious. Aggressive.    You need to be these things in a way that doesn’t get you fired, but just enough that it alters who his match is. Part of you isn't sure you have it in you to be this way, but it’s worth a shot. You’ll do anything to change fate.   “What the hell are you still doing in my kitchen?”   Seokjin is standing meters away, half shrouded in the darkness. Your eyes flicker up at him but you resume dicing the carrots into one inch lengths. Only half the blade is lifted off the wooden cutting board and it descends at a rapid rhythm, rather therapeutic to listen to.   There’s an urge to cower down, but you channel your aggression, pretending it’s Taehyung and not Kim Seokjin — head chef with two Michelin stars — enough money to assassinate you and cover up the crime.   “Everyone went out to have dinner together, but I came back to get a head start on prepping ingredients for tomorrow. I need the practice anyway. Why? Is it a problem?”   The man’s brow is lifted at your upfront behaviour. “Get out. I’ll drive you back.”   “I’m going to finish this first,” you retort without a breath to waste.   Seokjin scoffs and puts down the keys he just grabbed. He sighs exhaustingly and you feel his stare burning into you. It’s hard to ignore it. You even start sweating until he moves towards the fridge, and that’s when you finally steal the chance to peek at him. “Are you going to eat? I can make you something.”   “It’s fine.”   He grabs two eggs, some shredded cabbage, a handful of spinach and a stick of butter. You don’t question it, solely focusing on your task until there’s sizzling on the pan and he leaves the stove to look over you.   “Your technique is poor.”   “What?!” Your voice is loud unintentionally, but you’re wholly shocked. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your knife skills. You’ve spent countless time on refining it and getting it to meet standards.   “You could go faster,” he deadpans. “Your grip is too tense and you’re holding the knife too high up. You want to hold it at that balance point, so you have the most control over it and the weight is properly distributed.” Seokjin smoothly grabs a knife off the rack and holds it in front of you. You copy him. “It's easier to push the blade through when you're holding it there.”   “Like this?” You begin chopping again and he hums.    Against your will, a smile finds your features. It’s the first time he praised you— well...it’s less of a praise and more of a half-hearted noise of approval, but it still counts.   Seokjin takes the pan from the heat and switches it off. He grabs a fork from the drawer to start eating and you look over, finishing the job. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your blatant ogling. “Do you have an issue?”   You smile at him, stepping forward. “Can I have a bite?”   Seokjin scoffs. But you lean over and he steps aside, allowing you to nab a fork from the drawer to take some. It’s not like you’re particularly hungry, but you’re curious as to what he’s made. It’s been a long time since you’ve had food from the head chef himself and asking him for his dinner might just be off-putting enough that he’ll hate you forever. It wouldn’t be impossible considering he’s so picky. You swear, one mistake is all it takes for him to hold a grudge till the day he dies.   Yet, what you don’t expect is for the scrambled eggs to melt on your tongue. He’s sautéd the spinach, left the cabbage undercooked to add a crunch, and the eggs are fluffy in your mouth, a vivid gold that adds to the haphazard presentation. “This...this is delicious!”   He chews in his cheek. “It’s something I eat when there’s nothing in the fridge.”   You’re amazed. The fact that Kim Seokjin can’t recognize his own ingenuity is painful. “You should add this to the menu.”   He scoffs. “You think I would add scrambled eggs next to the caviar and truffle? I think you forgot this is a fine dining restaurant.”   “It’s fine,” you mumble. “I mean if it tastes good, it tastes good, right, chef?”   A tiny smile fixes at his visage, tugging his plump lip upwards. “You sure have a lot more opinions tonight.”   “Well, I’ve decided to speak my thoughts more,” you hum, scooping up another spoonful of his meal. Your eyes flicker up as you chew with your mouth wide open. “Why? Is it unattractive?”   “It’s interesting,” he says with a smile that’s more visible until he barks, “Hurry up eating so I can drive you home.”   You scoff at him as he walks away and you finish his dinner off.   //   Everyone’s on edge.   “It’s more akin to pretentious artwork without any real flavour than real food,” Hoseok reads from his phone to the entire kitchen. “Head chef, Kim Seokjin, is not far from what his cooking lacks too. A pretentious and egotistical nature, it’s no wonder his personal life is in shambles.”   Your fist tightens. Not only did the published article criticize his dishes, claiming it lost its touch and that he’s lost his roots, but they attacked his personality. His personal life. Going into detail of how his relationship was broken off unexpectedly.    “Oh shit,” Taehyung exhales.   “Was that really posted online for everyone to see?” Jihyo asks in a pitched voice, equally horrified and panicked.   Hoseok nods and before anyone can say anything, the backdoor is heard. Without prompting, everyone swiftly moves to their station, not uttering a single peep. Seokjin comes in, his expression unchanged and he deadpans the usual greeting as he moves past the kitchen.   Your face above his head hasn’t changed. But you know it’s not the time to dwell on it.   For the rest of the shift, Taehyung’s on his best behaviour and neither Jihyo nor Yoongi make snarky comments. It’s come at a cost — the morale is lower than usual. The atmosphere is tense and even Namjoon’s earnest encouragement can’t help.   Out of the corner of your eye, you can’t help but watch Seokjin. He doesn’t make mention to the article, yet by the deep furrow of his brow, you can tell he’s in a grumpy mood. It’s understandable. But you wonder why it seems like he’s less angry and more hurt.   If it were you, you’d be furious. The personal details of your life outed publicly and not only were your skills scrutinized, but your personality too.    Seokjin was cheated on and now chastised. Even if he’s resilient, it’s too much for anyone to take. It doesn’t look like he has friends to rely on either.   “Are you coming, Y/N?” Jihyo asks, turning around as you linger behind her. The restaurant’s lights are turned off, the kitchen long cleaned and your clothes changed into a fresh pair that doesn’t reek of dish soap and fish. But you feel unsettled. Like there’s still one more thing you haven’t finished doing.   “No, it’s alright. I forgot something. You can go right ahead.”   She nods, joining the others and you walk to the back, pushing the doors of the kitchen open.   There’s still a light on and you find Seokjin sitting on a stool by a counter. He looks up at you, visage in a neutral state. Neither a frown nor a smile. “What are you still doing here?”   Your hand tightens on your bag strap and you approach him. “Are you okay?”   Seokjin smiles at you. For the first time, it isn’t mocking — it’s gentle and tinged with sadness. The corner of his plump lips quirk ever so subtly and his arm extends, hand plopping on top of your head before it slides off. “I’m fine. It’s still early enough that I don’t need to drive you. You should go home before the sun completely sets.”   Wordlessly, you begin to walk away.   But then a sharp inhale is stolen through your parted lips. Before you can second guess yourself, you grab Kim Seokjin. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he glares at you.    “We should go out for a drink.” You don’t waver even with the incredulous look on his face. “What’s wrong? Never had a drink with an employee before? It looks like you need one and I’ll only offer once. I’m pretty busy myself, you know.”    It’s aggressive, obnoxious, a bit loud. It’s all the things you suppose he dislikes in a person, yet somehow the two of you have never been closer.   You end up in some hole in the wall, drinking shots of soju that burn its way down your throat. Seokjin sits across from you with an amused smile on his face that’s so irritating you want to slap it off, and you damn yourself for letting it slip your mind that you’re a lightweight.   “Aren’t you hurt, Kim?” The words slightly slur on your tongue. “‘s ridiculous! To criticize your food is one thing, but to criticize your personality and talk about your personal life ‘s just crossing the line!”    His lips pull, his eyes flicker down to the empty bottle beside you. “Yeah. It is.”   “Then why aren’t you mad?!” Your fist pounds the wooden table. “Getting cheated on is sad enough! Why do they gotta rub it in, huh?” His brow lifts, but you continue, “should sue them!”   Seokjin exhales on a sip. “It’s part of the business.”   “No, ’s not!”   “It was my ex who told them anyway. She’s upset that I kicked her out of the apartment.”   “Then that’s more reason to be mad!” You press your face into your hands, angry at how he’s not angry. “How can you be so nice? How can you be so nice and no one knows it?!”   Seokjin smiles to himself.   “This freaking sucks,” you moan.   He sighs at your drunken state and orders water for you. The old lady tottles by with a big smile and you get a chance to see the cloud of fog and the face above her head. “I brought the bean sprouts back,” her husband calls from the entrance at the same time with a grocery bag.   “I’ll be right there.” She places the glass down in front of you. “Here you go.”   Jealousy colours you pink inside. “You met your soulmate,” you exhale at her quietly.   The woman’s eyes twinkle. “That old man? He gives me more headaches than anything. I’d rather this handsome man be my soulmate,” she quips, casting a glance at an embarrassed Seokjin who thanks her for her compliment.   Her husband calls her again and she hurries back.    Seokjin leans forward with a skeptical look. “Are you okay?”   “I’m envious,” you sigh wistfully, looking on at the married couple at the back with your chin rested in your palm. After a moment, you shift towards the man across from you. Seokjin really is handsome. “I come from a long line of matchmakers, you know, and I have this ability.”   He plays along. “What ability?”   “I see the faces of who people are gonna end up with.” You drink the water, cooling your throat, but above the rim of the glass, you recognize his scoff and amusement. The glass slams down on the table in your protest. “It’s true! It’s been like that since I was a baby!”    “Okay, okay. I believe you.”   He clearly doesn’t believe you.   Irritated, you straighten your spine. “A long, long time ago back in High School, I really, really, really liked this guy.”    Seokjin’s brows raise, not sure where you’re going with this. “Alright…?” He nudges the glass of water back to you.    “I knew he wasn’t gonna end up with me, but he asked me out. And like a total idiot, I-I went out with him anyway. Then guess what happened?”   He has no idea.    A thick lump forms in your throat and makes it hard to speak. “He met the girl he‘s supposed to end up with, so I broke it off. They got married a year after high school. So I was right. I was...right.” Tears flood your vision, clouding the dark-haired man in front of you. You forgo the water for the shot Seokjin poured himself and you down it.    You were right. But it hurt.   Seokjin’s voice is soft, though it does little to console you. “So….because of your ‘ability’, you haven’t gone out with anyone else?”   You nod. “I’d be setting myself up for a failure anyway.” Your head lifts and your tired gaze connects with his. “My family wanted me to be a matchmaker like them. But I love, love, love cooking and I wanna be a chef. Like you.”   The corner of his mouth quirks. You’re honest — in a way he wouldn’t have expected from sober you. But he doesn’t mind it whatsoever.   “I know you don’t believe me. But look.” You reach over, tapping him relentlessly on the shoulder and your hand barely comes to cover your mouth as if you’re children exchanging secrets across the table. “See those two women over there? They’re gonna end up together.”   Your whispers are all too loud and Seokjin glares, not sure if you’re hysterical or delusional. Or both.   You turn to the window and he follows your line of sight. At the same time, a couple holding hands passes by and you shake your head. “They don’t end up together.”   “How do you know?”   “I already said! I see it. Above their heads.” Then you turn your head, looking at him. Seokjin’s startled, having not realized that you’ve leaned in so close, that your faces are mere inches away. But before he can shift back, your lip pulls and you murmur, “We’re supposed to end up together.”   His brow raises.   “It was gonna be someone else. Then one day, you came into work and poof! It was my face! Just like that. I almost got a heart attack, you know!” Giggles start to spill out of you. “It was a huge shock cause I always thought I was gonna be alone since I can’t see my own. Well, sometimes fate changes, so it might change again! Don’t worry!”   He exhales, squeezing out the air from his lungs. He stands, grabbing his coat and then tugging your arm up. “You’ve had too much to drink. C’mon. Let’s go.”   “Aye, aye, captain— I mean chef!”   His smile is small, but all too evident. He should smile more, even if it ruins the cold and aloof exterior he’s got going on. It’s cute and makes him look younger. So you express the idea and he chops your head lightly with his hand and gives you a rather gentle ‘shut up’ that has you grinning more.    //   The sunlight burns your vision and there’s a pounding headache at your temples.   There’s an overwhelming urge to pull the covers over your head, but as the slits of your eyes open and you realize there’s a strange floral scent to the sheets, you bolt upwards.   It hurts all the senses in your body, but your eyes register the neat recipe books lined on the shelf, trophies and certificates on the walls, a poster of the planets, a telescope and Kim Seokjin’s family picture by his nightstand. And then you scream.   “Christ. Relax!” He appears at the doorway, eyeing you with his arms crossed. “You were drunk, so I took you home.”   Absentmindedly, you tug the covers up to your chest in spite of still wearing the same clothes from last night. Your dry voice croaks out. “We...we didn’t do anything scandalous did—”   “No!” He shuts the thought down before it runs wild in your head and Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t do anything to you, jesus christ, woman! Just get up. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll make you some breakfast and a hangover drink.”   You follow his instructions, cleaning yourself up to the best of your abilities with the limited supplies, but it’s surreal to be in Seokjin’s penthouse. It’s clean and organized, like you expected, though a lot more cozy and warm. You didn’t know he traveled so frequently and that he had an interest in astronomy — if there’s anything the telescope and posters tells you.   “Stop snooping,” he calls out from the kitchen, looking up to where you’re investigating his movie collection. You come over with a half-hearted apology and he sets down a bowl of oatmeal and a mysterious concoction in a tall glass. Both taste heavenly, enough to work up your appetite ten folds.   But then he says, “Eat fast. It’s a special day today.”   You’re not sure what he means by it, but you simply nod and nurse your headache.   You remember what you told him last night, how you revealed all your secrets in one long tangent and you cringe at yourself. Seokjin probably thinks you’re a complete nut.   But strangely enough, when you look at the cloud above his head, your face hasn’t changed.   “Why are you staring?”   “I’m not,” you mutter and tear your eyes away, unsuspecting to his smile.   But in spite of how close and upfront you might’ve gotten with Seokjin, he still tells you to walk to work yourself — that it’s close enough and too much of a hassle if he drives you. So you cuss him out as you’re striding down the block as he zooms past you in his expensive vehicle.   You hope he notices your glare from across the kitchen, but if he does, he doesn’t comment.   “Today, we have some special guests for dinner service. A few of my friends will be coming and one of them will be proposing, so let’s make sure we give them a good dinner and memory.”   “Yes, chef.”   The news is exciting and even puts a buzz in the kitchen. “Finally, we’re doing something cool,” Taehyung says to you with a swollen smile. “I love a good proposal story.”   “Always the one watching the proposal, never the one getting proposed to,” Yoongi quips as he brushes past and Hoseok snickers.   “Hey, I’m working on it!”   “I’m surprised Seokjin actually has friends though,” Jihyo comments and right when Yoongi turns to add something, they both pale as Seokjin strides past. He glares at them and is even more frightening in his silence. They immediately apologize and he hums, moving out the kitchen.   You, Hoseok, and Namjoon laugh.   Evening eventually comes and Seokjin temporarily calls a halt to the kitchen in favour of his old friends meeting his staff. It’s unusual to see him in such a good mood, smiling and being sociable. It’s strange in general to see this side of him, but it’s not unwelcome whatsoever.   There’s seven of them, a mix of females and males, and you follow Hoseok’s lead in greeting and shaking their hands. Quickly, you recognize who's going to be proposing to who tonight. It’s not hard to miss considering the man is visibly nervous and the close female by his side keeps glancing at him in worry.   “Are you alright, Jimin?”   “Huh? Yeah.” The blonde with full cheeks and soft features smiles timidly, scratching the back of his neck. He’s dressed too nicely for this to merely be a dinner. “I’m fine. Just not feeling well.”   “Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the clinic?” The short-haired female asks, concern evident in the faint knot between her brows. “There’s one down the street. I can go with you.”   “I’ll keep an eye on him, Yuri,” the man who introduced himself as Jungkook reassures her, “If anything I’ll take him.”   “Jimin’s just excited to try out the food.” Seokjin grins, drawing attention away from his friend. “Rest assured, everyone will feel better after eating and if you get sick tonight, it’s not food poisoning, alright?”   There’s laughter in the group and another says, “You’ve been bragging about your restaurant for so long, I thought you were never going to invite us to eat here.”   “Well, we’re usually booked full house, but it’s a slower season so I thought why not.”   Yet the conversations drown away from your ears as your eyes unintentionally flicker upwards. You don’t mean to — it’s still a habit you’re trying to break. But you feel blood drain from your face as you discern the image that emerges from the fog above Jimin’s head and above Yuri’s.   “Y/N?” Taehyung waves his hand in front of your eyes and you snap out of your trance. “Why are you staring into space? We’re going back.”   “O-Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about something.”   You return to the kitchen, forcing yourself to focus and getting back to your task.    It’s none of your business. You know better than to involve yourself and it’s not like anyone would believe you in the first place. People’s lives have nothing to do with you. You have to turn a blind eye. It’s none of your business, it’s none of your business—   But as you leave to the back area to grab ingredients, you catch the man leaving the bathroom. “Oh, you’re one of Seokjin’s chefs right?” Jimin stops and smiles at you, inhibiting your escape.   You shake your head. “I-I’m only a kitchen assistant.”   “But you’re still part of his staff.” His eyes are rounded and bright. “Is he mean at all? We’ve been trying to squeeze it out of him, but he won’t give us any details. I heard a bit of shouting, so I was curious.”   “Oh, he’s always shouting.” The corner of your mouth quirks and Jimin grins. “He’s a bit mean, but Chef Kim’s just serious about his work and we respect him for it.”   “It seems like you understand him better than I do. Anyway, the soup was amazing. I already told Jin, but I thought I should let you know since you’re the one who brought it out to us.”   “Thank you.” Your eyes travel above his head and then you notice the way he’s fiddling with a box inside his pants pocket. You swallow hard. “Are you proposing tonight?”   Jimin’s head whips up. “How’d you know?”   “Chef Kim let all of us know, so we can make sure it’s a memorable dinner service.”   His expression softens and he bobs his head. Jimin takes out the ring box and studies it carefully. “I am. I hope it wasn’t too obvious. I know she’ll say yes, but I’m still nervous. She’s the love of my life and these things only happen once,.”   “Well….” You give an awkward chuckle. “Sometimes it happens more than once for people.”   “Not for us,” Jimin declares in such self-assurance that it’s uncomfortable. His smile filled with affection doesn’t help either. “She’s the one. I don’t think I’ll love anyone more than her.”   Your pupils flicker up to the cloud above his head that says otherwise. It gnaws at you, mocking you, and you’re uncertain if you can sleep tonight if you don’t say at least something. So you take the leap. “Are….you...sure?”   “What?”   “Never mind.” You turn around, having regretted it the moment it spilled. “Please enjoy dinner!”   “Wait!” The man unexpectedly grabs you out of sheer instinct, halting you in your spot. He searches your face while his own crumples into a frown. “Did Yuri say something to you?”   “No!” you frantically spit before taking a deep breath to calm down. “I’m just….I just….” The philosophy you’ve forced yourself to take collapses at his earnest visage. You were never good at being unattached. “D-Do you think this is a good idea? Are you absolutely sure about this?”   “What’s going on here?” There’s a lower voice, a husky timbre. Seokjin stands at the end of the dark corridor and all traces of his outgoing personality are gone. It’s replaced with the serious demeanour you’re used to. He beckons you. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Y/N?”   Jimin returns back to the table, even more unnerved than before while you’re pulled outside.   You feel small with your back against the brick and Seokjin looming over you. “What the hell are you doing?”   You flinch from his tone.    You’ve never seen him so angry. He isn’t shouting, screaming or imposing. But the irritation seethes out of him, simmering underneath his skin. You swallow hard, downcast eyes searching the gravel. You think about how dark it’s getting with the sun setting over the horizon. “I…”   “Are you seriously trying to talk him out of it?! What gives you the right—”   You snap. There’s no reason he should be upset, no reason you should be treated this way. So with your teeth gritted, you give him the truth that’s hard to hear. The truth that you alone must bear. “They’re not going to end up together!”    “What?”   Seokjin wears the same incredulous look from last night. It’s futile.   Still, your mouth runs off into mumbles, “I can see it above their faces. That woman, Yuri, she’s…..paired with that other man. Jungkook.”   You give up. Waving the white flag. In the silence that follows, you expect Seokjin to fire you, or call the nearest hospital. Either you’re a nut or unsuitable to work in his kitchen. Maybe both.   What you don’t anticipate is his startled expression, horrified as if you just told him there’s a ghost behind him. “How….how’d you know that?” The syllables unusually stutter out of him. It’s not like Seokjin to be inarticulate. “Jungkook hasn’t told anyone he loves her except for me.”   It’s your turn to be surprised. The quietness lingers. Then, he sighs.   “Don’t get involved,” he scolds, gentler than before. At the same moment, there are cheers from inside that leak out — clapping and hollering — you know Jimin’s proposed.   Seokjin turns away, returning to the restaurant floor and you resume your position in the kitchen. Jihyo asks if there’s anything wrong, but you brush her off. For the rest of the night, you concentrate on your job and Seokjin’s friends bid farewell after their stomachs are full from dessert and there’s a diamond on Yuri’s finger.   “Job well done everyone.” Seokjin has a satisfied look when he returns and Namjoon shares a smile with everyone. Clean up finishes soon after, but before you can leave, he calls you specifically. “Y/N, come here.”   Taehyung looks at you with widened eyes, but you don’t utter a word, staying behind. The kitchen filters out and even Yoongi sends a sympathetic look your way before departing. It’s never a good thing to be called back.   You brace yourself. If Seokjin didn’t make a scene firing you earlier than certainly will now. There’s no reason not to — you tried to stop an engagement between his close friends and he probably thinks you’re psychotic.   You stand there in silence for a good minute as he fills out some paperwork. It feels like you’re in the principal’s office. Then, the corner of his mouth moves as he casts a glance at you. “Sometimes you borrow the kitchen to practice, right? You can practice tonight.”   Confusion renders you immobile, filling your mouth with cotton, but you manage a slight nod.   You start to chop vegetables into bowls, dicing and mincing ingredients that will be needed for tomorrow. All the while, Seokjin sits meters away from you with a bunch of papers. Either doing his taxes or filing a report to admit you into the hospital. You’re not sure which one it is.   But halfway through, he pipes up again. “You should make something for the two of us to eat.”   “Yes, chef.” On any other night, you would be bursting with excitement, knowing it was a chance to impress him. But now you wonder if this will be your last chance to cook.    Within minutes, you have a pot on the stove, boiling for ten minutes.   “Sit down,” he commands, motioning to the other stool and you oblige.   Seokjin makes drinks in the meanwhile, asking what you want. When you mumble anything’s fine, he pulls out a few bottles from the back cabinet and starts mixing. You didn’t know he can bartend, but it’s almost expected that Kim Seokjin can do anything at this point.   The atmosphere is terribly awkward, so you exhale from your nose and speak up, “I’m sorry. I...I know I stepped out of line. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. I’m really so—”   “I believe you,” Seokjin interjects, gaze meeting yours across the counter. Your breath hitches. “I didn’t believe you at first. About the whole ability thing. But when you told me that Jimin and Yuri won’t make it, I knew there was no other possible way.” He pours the drink into two glasses. “Jungkook and Yuri grew up together. He told me a long time ago he was in love with her and I was sworn to secrecy. No one else knows. Not his brother, his mom, or Jimin.”   He passes it to you and sighs, taking a sip. “But there’s nothing I can do to stop Jimin or to help Jungkook. It’s something they have to figure out on their own.”   You nod, gripping the stem of the glass. “I know.”   There’s a pregnant pause.    You lift your eyes and it connects with Seokjin’s. Instantly, you feel yourself breaking into a sweat at how intense he looks at you. “Is it true then?” he asks in the quaintness of the kitchen, his voice thick and low. “Are we going to end up together?”   “It might change!” The words come out all too frantically in fear he’ll freak out like you did. You know it’s a lot to take in. “Things change all the time. You were supposed to end up with Jisoo, but then, but then things happened so….nothing’s ever certain. It all depends on our actions and choices. I know you don’t like people like me. I don’t have anything to offer you anyway—”   “You need to have more confidence in yourself.”   Your voice dies on your tongue. Seokjin’s staring at you again in a way that makes your palms clammy, so intense that you wonder if he’s scrutinizing your pores. You swallow hard, tearing your own gawking away until you hear sizzling. The two of you turn to where the pot is almost over boiling and you run over, grabbing it off the stove. “I-It’s done.”   He grabs bowls as you set it down and uncover the lid.    “What do we have here?”   You’re embarrassed. It’s nothing like his fine dining dishes, or even his comfort food that somehow tastes like heaven. “It’s just carrot and potato curry stew. It’s actually something my family cooks…..so it’s nothing fancy.”   Seokjin’s spoon dips into the liquid and it’s your turn to watch intently.   He smells it, sips and his expression is kept blank.   You stand. “I can throw it out if you want—!”   “Why are you so jumpy today?” The corner of his plump lips curls. “And why would I want to throw out something so delicious?”   Your heart stutters in your chest and tears fill your vision. He might not fire you after all and on top of that, both your inborn ability and cooking skills have been validated. You feel overwhelmed. Especially when he finishes his first bowl and goes for seconds.    “This is what I’ve been missing in my cooking,” Seokjin murmurs with a tiny smile. “When they said I was missing my roots, I think I know what they mean now. Thank you, Y/N.”   You’re not sure who’s filled with more gratitude.   He smiles and you nod at him earnestly, speechless on what to say.   At the end of the night, Seokjin drives you home in his black Mercedes. A kind of lull fills that car and it isn’t frightening like it usually would be. Rather, it’s comfortable. A little too short lasting. He parks the car at the curb in front of your apartment and you get out.   “Thank you.”   Yet after you shut the door, he rolls down the window and stops you. “Y/N.”   You look at him and he smiles again. A phenomenon that used to be so rare that seems to happen frequently now. “I hope it doesn’t change.”   Kim Seokjin gazes at you, eyes connected across the distance that feels like it’s closing. He never wavers and a lump forms into your throat. “Are we going to end up together?” — Your own words echo in the recesses of your mind— “It might change! Things change all the time.”   But here he is. Going against all your efforts of trying to change fate itself. “I hope it doesn’t change. And I hope you don’t want it to change either.”   Seokjin drives off, leaving you absolutely stunned.   You wonder if he knows what he’s saying. But as you watch his car fade into the distance, somehow you’re not appalled or scared at the idea of being with him anymore.

The kitchen is an organized pandemonium.   A place where everyone knows exactly what they’re supposed to do and moves in fluid motions by one another, like a busy crosswalk in the downtown area. It’s a kind of silent teamwork and while you’re merely helping Taehyung chop vegetables or washing the accumulated dishes, you know your role is still an important one. You just wish you could a little more.   The moment the back door creaking can be heard, everything comes to a halt. Seokjin rounds the corner as everyone simultaneously greets him. “Good afternoon, chef.”   “Afternoon.” There’s a smile on his features, one that surprises a few and makes the others unsettled. “There’s going to be a special menu item today, so I want that prepared as soon as possible.”   He hands the new recipe to Namjoon who frowns upon the sprawled notes. “Carrot...and potato soup with chickpea crumble?”   “If you need details, ask Y/N,” Seokjin says with a tiny smile. “It’s her recipe.”   At once, everyone turns to you with shocked expressions. It’s one thing for Seokjin to suddenly introduce something new, but to introduce yours, it’s both unprecedented and a privilege.   You stare at him and his smile widens slightly. “I hope you don’t mind.”   “N-Not at all.”   The daily tasks commence, but not without a pat on the back from Yoongi, a congratulations from Jihyo and a smile sent your way by Taehyung. Namjoon and Hoseok ask for your help and it’s the first time you’re not just mincing garlic in the corner or washing a stack of dishes. Pride bursts through you and you look across the kitchen to Kim Seokjin. He scoffs at how big your smile is, feigns a glare and tells you to get back to work.   The rest of the dinner service goes smoothly. Your appetizer gets compliments from several and you couldn’t be any happier, even when everyone’s left and you’re still scrubbing dishes.   There’s a click of a tongue beside you. Seokjin stands with his arms crossed. “You always find ways to make me pay you overtime. Move over.” He rolls up his sleeves and helps you wash the last pots and pans.   “Thank you for today. It was a good surprise.”   He hums and the pair of you finish up before he tells you to unload the dishwasher tomorrow. “Go change and grab your coat. It’s getting late.”   “Are you going to drive me home?”   “No. We’re going to scope out some competition.”   “Competition?”   “We’re going to eat at a restaurant called Dog World,” Seokjin brushes off quickly, but when you continue to blink at him, he sighs and waves you off. “Don’t ask too many questions, alright? This is my excuse for asking you out on a date.”   If you weren’t caught off guard before, you’re wholly stunned speechless now. A deer in headlights. And it makes the older bastard grin widely.   “Don’t worry.” His voice knocks down into a gentler tone. “You can reject me if you want. I don’t want you to be pressured because I’m your boss, even though I don’t think that matters to you. But you should also know I’m not doing this because of what you see.” He gestures above his head, unknowingly batting the cloud of fog you can perceive. “I’m doing this because I want to.”   It sinks into you and your head tilts to your shoulder. “You….want to go out on a date with me?”   The corner of Seokjin’s lip pulls and he diverts his vision elsewhere. You notice how his ears are turning red. “Ever since you sat down with me and told me that getting cheated on was sad enough and that they shouldn’t rub it in.”   There’s silence. The first stretch of it is because you genuinely don’t know what to say to him. But the second stretch that follows is when you realize just how nervous he is and there’s a ruthless urge to keep him on the edge. You make him simmer in fear, a similar kind to the countless ones he’s given you during stressful shifts in the kitchen.   There’s something powerful yet endearing about how Kim Seokjin anticipates your answer.   You never thought he could be this way. He just keeps surprising you.   When you can’t contain it anymore, you burst out laughing.   “I’ll accept on the condition that if you take my recipe permanently, you’ll need to pay me royalties appropriately. Don’t think I won’t take you out to court, Kim.”   Seokjin grins and for the first time, certainty sews into you. You have a feeling fate isn’t going to change and you hope it doesn’t either.

[Epilogue]   The kitchen is your home.   You’re sure Jin would adamantly argue that the house was perfectly fine to be considered your home, but there’s still a charm to the busy kitchen that has drawn you in since childhood. Even if the heat swelters in the still air and is stifling, even when grease and oil splatter and stains your clothes, the effort in cooking makes the food that comes from it even more delicious.   “What is this?”    All heads turn at your voice and you motion to the plate about to be brought out. “The rice is on the wrong side of the plate! Re-do this, and watch the plating people! I know it’s easy to forget but it’s important to be consistent with the presentation!”   “Yes, chef!”   It’s strenuous and difficult to be here. It took years to get to where you are, but you wouldn’t trade it in for anything. The reward is worth it. You love your job — maybe even more than Jin, and while you’re sure he wouldn’t be surprised, he’d still playfully whine about being casted aside.   The rest of the night goes off without a hitch and once the kitchen is all clean, you switch off the lights and lock the doors. And like magic, the person you’ve been thinking about all day is leaning against the car parked on the curb, arms crossed as he stares out into the starry sky.   “About time. I’ve been waiting for the past twenty minutes.”   You scoff with a smile and discern the cold cloud emitting from his lips each time he exhales.   This is the exact opposite of what you intended to happen. Sometimes you wonder if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy — by knowing he was going to be with you and trying to avoid it, you inadvertently made him closer to you. But whatever the case may be, you’re glad for the outcome.   You close the distance and slap your hands against his frozen cheeks, trying to warm them up. A smile tugs on your features. “Sorry. You’re cold, aren’t you? You should’ve just waited in the car.”   “But I wanted to see you right away,” he mutters, putting his hands on top of yours to keep you there, then he adds, “and it gives me reason to do this.” Seokjin grins and leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips, one that you smile into.   If any of his old kitchen staff or even the current group saw him now, they’d faint with how grossly affectionate he was being. Then again, they might just be used to it considering Jin hasn’t ever paid mind to other people. He’s never been one to opt out of public displays of affection either.   “You know I’ve been thinking lately.”   “About?”   “How hard I tried to get rid of you and how I couldn’t. You’re kind of like a pest.”   Your husband of two years straightens his spine, wholly offended. “Pest?”   Laughter bubbles out of your chest and you press another chaste kiss to his lips before you’re pushing him aside to get into the car. Seokjin chuckles, rounding the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat.   “Are you hungry?”   “Not really.”   “Namjoon and Taehyung want us to go to the opening of their restaurant.”   “Their opening event lasts for three days right? We can always go tomorrow.” You turn to him as he pulls off, driving down the street. “I’m kind of craving your comfort food tonight.”   Jin grins, easily obliging while your eyes flicker up to the cloud of fog above his head. You see yourself smiling as widely as you are now, and you’re thankful you have your ability.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin scenario #jin reader insert #seokjin fluff #seokjin scenario #Jin as a scary chef :( who's just hardcore about his passion #yo this got Jungle Park Hoseok vibes lol ngl #actually it was inspired by the k-drama Oh My Ghost #I never finished watching it really but I based off the way their kitchen worked with this fic #so if it doesn't seem like a traditional kitchen that's why #I hope you guys enjoy this oneshot! #It's a more classic Jimlingss fluff #with a decent storyline

[otonymous]

Careless Whisper (MLQC Shaw)

There’s actually a story behind this, dear @redheadkittys​ 👀.  Gather around and find out the truth behind Shaw’s attire...

(Nb. Many thanks to the lovely @acrispyapple for providing me with the image above! 💖)

Author’s Notes: If you haven’t heard George Michael’s iconic Careless Whisper before, please do yourselves a favour and check it out.  It is, in my mind, the quintessential sex sax track 🤣

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…..wooooahhhh oohhhhhh….” 🎶

Oh no they didn’t.

Tearing the black apron from around a trim waist, Shaw tosses it onto the stainless steel counter, drawing stares from coworkers in the kitchen as they halt in the middle of frenzied work.  The young man pushes through the double doors, running a hand through strands of lavender hair as he coolly ignores the cacophony of shouts calling for the sous-chef to return.

He had tried to remain calm.  Fronted like it didn’t bother him when he saw her in that body-hugging dress, strolling into the hall that had been lavishly decorated with the LFG CEO’s funds — the very guy who was now onstage doing his best impression of Yo-Yo Ma.  Didn’t even blink when that blonde superstar proved he was Itzhak Perlman’s equal on the violin.  Managed still to keep his cool when the professor and his own brother arrived with instruments that hinted at their phallic prowess.

He had guessed they’d try to keep him out of sight for something as big as the third anniversary of the game, going so far as to confine him to the kitchens for the dinner gala.  Even that, Shaw had made his peace with.

But this?  This, he couldn’t afford to ignore.

“Careless Whisper” was their song.  

Softly strummed on his guitar to lull her back to sleep on those nights where she padded out of his bedroom, hair mussed and looking like a goddess descended to Earth in nothing but his old t-shirt.  “The rain is keeping me up,” she’d murmur with a seductive smile, extending her hand in invitation.

Yes, their song was currently being butchered by the quartet on stage and even Kiro’s magnetic voice did little to save this classical rendition that called for a very different instrument altogether…

…a very different kind of man.

“Hey, that’s mine—!”

Brass cool and sleek, the heft of the sax feels just right in Shaw’s hands as he rips it from the grasp of a musician in the makeshift pit of the accompanying orchestra.  A murmur washes through the crowd, growing in volume as the man with lavender hair strides up to the stage, standing front row centre.

He waits until the echoes of halted music cease in that grand hall, feels the sharp edges of the daggers being stared into his back.  Four men, all strong and powerful and yet so helpless in the face of his desire for the girl.

He’d show them just how the song was supposed to be performed.

Lips on the reed, hands on the keys.

Eyes on the girl.

The sweet sounds of the sax swell, the signature refrains of “Careless Whisper” filling the room to wet the panties of every woman there.

Shaw: 1.  Paper Games: 0.

Hope you all enjoyed this little joke of a drabble!  Thank you so much for reading 💖 Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc shaw drabble #mlqc shaw fic #my writing #redheadkittys #acrispyapple #fanfiction

[theiceandbones]

Nova Scotia Bones: a brief listing of famous haunts in Canada’s ocean playground

Nova Scotia is a lobster-shaped granite peninsula that juts out into the North Atlantic on Canada’s east coast. It’s ancient, it’s damp, it’s rocky, and it’s home. It’s also wildly haunted. The impenetrable granite bedrock that we live upon seems to act as its own tomb for the energies of those who departed their earthly vessels on the volatile shores and in the coniferous boreal interior. Or, perhaps, it is our own maritime culture, one that is freckled with memento mori, that adds fuel to these legends that have been passed on through the ages. A culture that lives and dies by the sea is no stranger to tragedy and haunts, eventually one learns to live alongside them. For better or for worse. 

I’ve collected a few ghost stories that have stood out to me over the years. When one grows up in Nova Scotia these are a select few that everyone speaks of, some may be lesser known but still thoroughly chilling. These will be arranged in order of popularity. 

1. The Young Teazer The Young Teazer was an American privateering schooner who, in June of 1813, would find herself in the waters of Mahone Bay being pursued by the British fleet. Her commander, a Lieutenant Johnston, knew that if he were to be captured he would most certainly hang, and knowing this, he ordered his crew to abandon ship in a major way- the Teazer was exploded, all onboard except for eight perished in the blast. It is now a well-known local legend that on a warm summer’s night, one may still see the reflection of a ship on fire in Mahone Bay’s quiet waters. 

2. The forerunner It’s just now occurred to me that I cannot possibly continue without speaking of the forerunner. This phenomenon features extensively within Nova Scotian folklore and is a key aspect of maritime superstition. A forerunner is an omen of death. It may take the shape of the doomed themselves, their scent, a light, an overwhelming sensation of dread directly linked to the individual, a falling photograph of or other object related to the individual, or one’s name being called by the individual. When expecting company, a traditional maritime host will set the large Pyrex kettle on the stove, always containing at least half a dozen teabags, to boil, but sometimes the recently-expected guest may not arrive- ever again. Here are a few selected tales of forerunners from Nova Scotia’s past. 

Anyone who is familiar with the series Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark will remember the story of “The Thing.” What they may not know, however, is that this story is based on a real event which happened in Victoria Beach, NS. A Mr. Thorne and his friend, Joe, were out walking at night when they spied behind a neighbour’s house a long, spindly, pale creature dressed in a white shirt, black trousers and black braces peering back at them. Well they had no idea what this creature could be and so they ran back to Joe’s house after it had given them a right spook. Eventually the pair returned only to discover that now the creature was standing atop the fence in the neighbour’s yard, a fence so old it crumbled under a person’s touch, and that’s when it was decided they were done chasing this thing for one evening. 

Years later, Joe took ill with consumption and died. Mr. Thorne, his ever-faithful friend, had stayed up with him right up until the very end. Joe’s condition had wasted him away so powerfully he was nary more than skin and bone by the time he’d passed. Mr. Thorne through the years had been hesitant to tell this story at all, for a good reason. Because, he says, toward the end of Joe’s life, lying in bed in his graveclothes, he looked just like The Thing.

In Liverpool, NS, a Mrs. Viola Oickle was seated at the kitchen table playing cards with her friends when she looked up and in the window, plain as day, was her Uncle Ernie. “There’s Uncle Ernie” she said, they’d heard the latch on the door open, but Ernie never showed. After cards she decided she’d go round to Ernie’s house to check on him, and there he was, peeling apples on his front step fit as a fiddle. However, mere hours later, Ernie had died of a heart attack at his home. 

Marion Bridge in Cape Breton is home to a wealth of ghost stories, of course the forerunner is one of these. In addition to one’s apparition, three knocks may also be an omen. A Mrs. MacGillivray tells the story of her mother waiting up one night for her father to come home when she heard the sound of a wagon being pulled by horses up the road. They stopped, then came three knocks at the door- which was strange, but her mother figured he may need a hand with something outside. Looking out, she realised no one was there at all. Of course she knew what three knocks meant and feared the worst for her husband. Eventually he returned home in his usual health, but her mother was still confused. A while later the body of a man was found up a nearby road and the men who’d discovered it stopped at the house to change horses at night. They knocked three times on the door, exactly the same sequence of events which transpired when her mother had heard the knocks before. 

3. Treasure The province has a storied history of pirates and privateering, so it comes as no surprise that stories of buried treasure are quite popular. As superstition has it, when digging for treasure, one must not speak until the task is done. If a word is spoken, the treasure will never be found. The spirits of pirates go to great lengths to ensure this, one tale tells of a man digging for a hidden treasure with his wife and young daughter. His wife pipes up, “oh would you look at those monkeys!” This is eastern Canada, as such there are no monkeys native to the area. Unsurprisingly, there were no monkeys to be found, and the treasure itself was never uncovered. Speaking of pirates

4. Black Rock Beach/Maugers Beach In Halifax’s early days as the port city it remains today, it was no stranger to pirates. Pirates, however, were not so welcome in Halifax as one may assume. When a pirate was caught in Halifax, they would be hanged and displayed in an iron cage at Black Rock Beach at the harbour’s mouth, or at Maugers (pronounced locally as Major’s) Beach on McNab’s Island a little further out. This is how the latter gained its name as Dead Man’s Beach. 

5. Other phantom ships Nova Scotia’s ties to the sea are a major part of its cultural superstition. From “red sky at night” to “never sail if you see a forerunner,” seafaring superstitions are etched into the fabric of life around here. It comes as no surprise, then, that there are so many stories of ghost ships in the mix. One such story comes from 1874, an experience of a Captain Hatfield from Fox River, NS as he was sailing from Cuba to New York. Asleep in his cabin one night, he felt three taps on his shoulder and a voice urging him, “keep her off half a point.” He figured this was the mate or another of his officers, but they each assured him it was not them. He felt the tapping and heard the voice again. As he was growing annoyed, he got up to look around and saw a man climbing up the ladder but was not dressed like the others onboard. Nevertheless, he got up and gave the order to keep the ship off half a point. When morning came, a wreck was spotted half a point off course of his ship, and onboard came Captain Amesbury of the schooner D. Talbot, his wife, child, and his crew. Captain Hatfield recounted the story of the night before to the captain and his wife, to which the wife informed him the man he saw was her father who had passed ten years prior. 

A story from Seabright of a fishing vessel that was lost in a sou-easter tells of a captain who’d not turn back as the other boats did, but instead dared the lord to stop him from staying behind. The ship was lost, of course, and for ages onwards sailors would recount seeing a bright light at night that disappeared during the day. It would tack when the respective vessel tacked, but no one ever saw the shape of the boat itself- just its light. But, as sailors do say, one can feel a ship just as one can feel a person nearby. 

6. St. Paul’s face in the window This one dates to the time of the Halifax Explosion which occurred on the 6th of December 1917. St. Paul’s Church is the oldest building in Halifax, its foundation having been laid in the year of the city’s founding in 1749.  As legend has it, the deacon of the church was standing in the window parallel to the Narrows of the harbour when the French munitions ship, Mont Blanc, exploded. His profile remains in the window to this day and can be seen via Argyle Street. 

7. The Black Window House Another Halifax legend, the Black Window House on Robie Street has a long history of superstition. It was built in 1840 for the first elected mayor of Halifax, William Caldwell. It is said to be haunted because of its infamous black window. Local legend states that once a man peered in the window and saw witches dancing their dance of death on the verandah. When the witches caught him spying, they turned the window black. 

8. The Town Clock One of Halifax’s most iconic landmarks is the Town Clock on Citadel Hill. This is one of the few surviving round structures designed by the Duke of Kent during his visit to Halifax in the late 18th century. It is said that before the clock was constructed, there existed a well near the site where it stands today. A young girl was reportedly playing near this well when she fell in and died. Her spirit is said to remain in the clock tower to this day. 

9. Citadel Hill No discussion of Nova Scotian haunts is complete without discussing Citadel Hill. The Halifax Citadel is today a national historic site, however in the past it was used as a fully-operational military fortification and is one of the best-remaining examples of a star fortress worldwide. Ghost stories from the Hill are many and varied, and some workers have reported seeing strange phenomena themselves such as footprints behind locked metal grates. In the month of October, ghost tours are given by costumed interpreters at the site where famous stories are recounted. Some guests report their hand being held by a smaller, invisible hand, others talk of seeing a ghostly man in the uniform of the 78th Highlanders Regiment walking the grounds only to disappear. It is worth noting that the Citadel never once fired a shot in anger. 

10. The Five Fishermen This popular (and pricey) Halifax restaurant serves up fine dining and spirits...not always of the alcoholic variety. Restaurant staff over the years have reported cutlery flying off of tables, seeing apparitions in the washrooms turning the taps on and off, doors closing on their own, and hearing their name called when no one is around. The form of a grey figure is also said to wander down the staircase. 

11. The gallows For a time after Halifax’s founding, a gallows was set up on the corner of what is now Lower Water and George Streets. Public executions were a spectacle that could be viewed by all townspeople of all ages. According to local legend, on a clear night the ghost of a hanged man is said to be seen swinging by his neck in the spot where the old gallows used to stand. 

12. Dagger Woods I cannot stress enough how creepy and unsettling this area is. In northern Antigonish County there is a forest known as Dagger Woods. In this forest, there is said to live a demon known as the Hidey Hinder who steals unsuspecting visitors to the underworld, the person is never seen or heard from again, supposedly vanishing into thin air. People travelling through the woods report hearing strange and frightening cries that they cannot place, and, understandably, avoid the area afterwards. The woods are the subject of a song by the same name by Nova Scotian folk metal band, The Stanfields. 

13. Peggy’s Cove Peggy’s Cove is by far one of Nova Scotia’s most popular tourist destinations. As a lifelong resident of Nova Scotia, I encourage you to visit this beautiful point but please, PLEASE, stay off the black rocks for god’s sake. Anyway, the ghost who is lucky enough to live here is, of course, named Margaret. The story goes that Margaret and her husband settled here after a shipwreck claimed the lives of their children. Margaret was heartbroken, and so her husband decided to cheer her up. He made his way onto the rocks where Margaret would often sit and lament her lost children and performed a dance for her, but it would turn out even worse- he slipped and fell to his death. In a fit of agony, Margaret threw herself off the rocks and into the sea, and her ghost is said to haunt the rocks of Peggy’s Point to this day.

14. Caledonia Mills, or Mary Ellen’s Spook Farm Back in 1922, the MacDonald family lived on a farm in Caledonia Mills situated in Antigonish County. Their adopted daughter, named Mary Ellen, was not held in high regard. A series of fires that had taken place during the winter devastated the family, and Mary Ellen was said to be at the root of them; it was believed she was born of an evil spirit. When she denied these accusations, she was sent to live in an asylum. Her spirit still resides in her farm, and to any unlucky visitor who’d like to bring back a souvenir, they might find that mysterious fires start to ignite in their own home. Best to leave the farm in one piece.

15. Horton’s Cove This is not one that’s widely known to many, however it is a story very personal to myself. On a spot of land in Guysborough County, the remains of a young boy who died in the early 20th century are buried. The grave is unmarked and the boy’s cause of death is unknown. That being said, his presence can be felt in both the field and the hills around where his resting place is said to be, and trust me when I say there is no feeling quite as unnerving. 

16. Cole Harbour Poor Farm/Bissett Road Asylum In the 1920s there existed a mental asylum in a quiet part of Cole Harbour, outbound toward the harbour itself. The building is no longer there, said to have burnt to the ground in a fire, however the spirits of its residents can be felt in the vacant lot on the hill where it used to stand. Across the street on the edge of a sprawling field is a small fenced cemetery containing ten unmarked white crosses. It is rumoured that these graves house the remains of children who used to live in the asylum, though it is more likely that these graves were intended for adult residents. It is not yet known whose remains these are. 

Dealings with the paranormal and superstition is a way of life for many in Nova Scotia. It is our maritime history and culture which largely feed these beliefs, whether one believes in them is entirely up to the individual themselves. One thing that isn’t so easy to shake, though, is the sensation that there’s something in the trees or that field over there. Say, what’s on the water? 

#nova scotia #halifax #home #ghost stories to make you feel spooky aaaa #ghosts #bleh bleh blehhhh ooo

[ha-hatdog]

double the trouble, triple actually / miya atsumu / smau / chapter one

masterlist / miya atsumu's squad / chapter two

--

   Upon the exiting the compact spaces the cab provided, the first thing that greeted your figures was the cool wind from the north, and not long after, as your feet padded across solid ground, the soft sunrays from the sun hung above the skies caressed your delicate skin. The sun and wind in Japan did not differ from Australia, both countries shared the same sources, but somehow, in some strange and indecipherable way, you felt more at home than the country who served as your paradise from your heartbreak.

 Behind you, the chatter between your best friends reached your eardrums as they busied themselves of gathering your luggage from, but their words seemed muffled and beyond the boundary of discernment as you took a proper gander at the luxurious, two story construction erected before you. Slathered in monochrome paint, enveloped in a pristine and doted garden, with the smell of lavender and roses which has blossomed from the rich greenery of the shrubs springing in the air – “Wow,” You breathed out, the disbelief ever present in your inaudible murmur. “Sousuke,” Without executing any kind of motion to execute a decorous confrontation to your raven-haired companions, you carried on with your statement, stammering in the process. “I-Is this really where you live?”

       Yamazaki Sousuke heaved one of your baggage from out of the trunk of the vehicle with complete ease as years of his athleticism aided him in his action and fixated his bemused gaze unto you. “I took you here, didn’t I?” His answer came in blank sardonicism but from your years of friendship, you can depict the banter and smile on his baritone voice. “I wouldn’t have offered you my place to stay in if I didn’t live in a nice place.”

           Your eyeballs bulged from their sockets, your jaw slackened to reveal a clear display of astonishment on your visage, as your mind attempted, and failed miserably so, to wrap itself around the verity that soon you’ll be taking residency in this abode under the care and generosity of one of your best friends.

   “What? Is the apartment not up to your standards, [ Your Name ]?” This particular jest came from another close associate of yours. Donned with a blue cap with his maroon locks peeking from smaller unoccupied spaces, a white shirt, a flannel, loose trousers, and a merry simper saliently illustrating his tapered set of teeth, Rin Matsuoka slung his own bag over his shoulder as he positioned his vacant hand over his hip, his scarlet hues assessing you with the same playful manner Sousuke supplied you with in his interaction. “Did my apartment in Australia broaden your taste?”

  Your lips parted to retaliate to his comment, your words just by the tip of your tongue when you felt a tug on your clothing just by your bust. “Mama,” A pair of sweet voices called for your attention in perfect unison, the sleepiness and enthusiasm segregating which voice belonged to who. Lowering your line of sight to your arms, you were met by your bundles of joy whose brownish eyes grew wide, one pair glossy with permanent timidity and the other just brimming with curiosity. Their hands bunched the fabric of your clothing in their small and chubby hands, as though begging you to keep your focus solely on them – and how can you not when they looked so adorable?

"Mama," Whimpered the more reserved twin, lips quivering as he registered the unfamoliar enviroment circling his tiny frame. Regardless of already being as close to you as possible, he nestled himself even further to your chest, cheek pressing on your bust. "Where are we?"

     A more enthusiastic voice interrupted you, a squeal of excitement laced on it. “Mama, Mama, Mama," Chanted the other in demand of your attention, to which you offered to him. "Are we back in Japan, Mama? Is this Japan, Mama?” [ Last Name ] Hiro, the older twin and son with a knack for making you exhausted as you tried your best to satisfy his needs ranging from running around in wherever location you found you and your sns were at, to jumping on the bed he shared with his younger brother demanding for more play time or a bed time story, questioned as he tugged at you twice. Two honey pairs of eyes regarded you with their own set of curiosity, and you nodded kindly at them, beaming.

  "That's right, Hiro. You and Mama are finally back in Japan." Your voice rose to match their excitement. "Aren't my babies happy?"

( Last Name ) Taichi casted his eyes down, cheeks puffing. "But I wanted to see airplane one last time . . . " Taichi was the younger twin and son, and practically the opposite of Hiro. Reserved, easily scared, has trouble communicating with strangers, and in all honesty, the easier twin to handle but that doesn't mean he didn't give you a hard time (you cannot count the times he interrupted your personal business and your time for yourself because he thought there was a scary monster following him. It was Hiro with a blanket over his heas thinking they were playing). Though he may be an opposite of his brother, that didn't stop them from being tightly knit with one another. Somehow, they balance each other out.

Kind of like . . . You caught your thoughts before you could finish it.

Hiro, upon sensing the turmoil coming from his little brother, smiled widely at him and extended his small arm to pat Taichi on the head. Taichi stopped his sniffling and looked up at his brother. "That's okay, Taichi. We'll go back to Aus-tri-lay again and then you'll get to see the airplane again. Right, Mama?"

You stopped yourself from frowning. You have never told them the real reason why you left Japan in the first place. In their mind, it was a vacation, a vacation that lasted for eight months. I can't tell them we went to Australia because I wanted to move on from their father.

"You two want to go back to Australia?" You pretended to whine. "Sou-kun will be really sad to hear that. He was looking forward to seeing his favorite boys."

     Immediately, the lethargy from your flight dissipated from their eyes, the name of the mentioned latter bubbled uncontainable excitement in them. “Sou-kun is here? Sou-kun is in Japan!” Hiro asked once more, voice pitched with the same sentiment controlling him. “I want to see Sou-kun, Mama! I want to see Sou-kun! Where is Uncle Sou?”

  Taichi chimed in. “I-I want to see Sou-kun too.” He uttered, face scrunching and his small hands turned to smaller balls of fist. “I missed Sou-kun . . . ”

            You stopped yourself from laughing at their obliviousness. You lifted your arms further up and nuzzled theit cheeks, both if them cooing at your affection. “He’s over there, silly. He picked us up from the airport but you two were being sleepyheads so you didn't know.” You rotated your body to face the opposite direction, giving your twins a clear sight of Sousuke and Rin bidding their polite farewell with the cab driver as he pulled away from the apartment complex. They let out a thrilled “ahh” as they spotted Sousuke, and disregarding your precarious hold on them, Hiro and Taichi began squirming in your arms, persistent to get closer to Sousuke. “H-Hey, Hiro, Taichi, please, don’t move too much!” You scolded them as you single handedly adjusted your position to keep them from slipping out of your arms. "Stop - moving - please - "

   But as they always did, they did not heed your command and it only seemed to encourage them to continue their actions. “Sou-kun! Sou-kun!” They did their best effort to reach out for Sousuke, stumpy arms reaching to his direction, as they cried out his name.

          Finally, at long last, at least in the opinions of your sons, Sousuke turned to face you and sent your sons a gentle smile. “Ah, almost didn't see you adorable rascals over there! How are my favorite nephews doing?” He walked over to you and just as easily as he brought your belongings out of the cab, he swooped the twins from your arms and into his. They did not waste time latching on to him, mimicking koalas, albeit a tad more affectionate and clingier. The burst into fits of laughter as Sousuke pretended to chomp on their cheeks, making sure not to hurt them in his process of returning their fondness. He pulled away, grinning as Hiro and Taichi looked up at him with admiration, honey colored eyee glittering. “I missed you two so much! So, so much! Did you miss Uncle Sou too?”

   Hiro was the first to answer. “Yes, very much!" He threw one of his arm up in the air. "Me, Taichi, and Mama missed you very much!”

      Taichi nodded in agreement to his brother. You feigned an action of vomit, however.

  Sousuke rolled his eyes at you and then chuckled at Hiro's answer. “That’s good. That’s good. Were you two good boys to your Mama?”

   “Hiro and I are always good boys!” Protested Taichi, cheeks puffing. "Always!"

        Hiro bellowed, “We always help Mama with chores! We make lunch for Rin-kun and take it to him in his swimming training!”

               You cannot help permitting your smile to broaden as you watched Sousuke interact with your sons. Your heart swelled at the sight, but it was soon dampened as a dark thought, which had always been lurking in the back of your mind, manifested and was quick to envelop your thought –

You cannot help but feel your heart swell at the sight of Sousuke interacting with your sons. Your smile was broadening, and the happiness surging as the laughter and idle chatters exchange from the three of them reached your ears.

Sousuke have always been their favorite uncle - and may Iwaizumi and Oikawa never learn that or your head is for them to throw out im the empty sea - and even though you told them early on that he was not their father, you knew that didn't stop them from seeing him as one. You couldn't blame them either. Sousuke has proven himself as a great father figure. He was the first person you told about your pregnancy with Hiro and Taichi. You called him in the middle of his own swimming practice, crying, and before you knew it, he ditched his training and travelled many hours to become you comfort and support. He was with you throughout your whole pregnancy - through the morning sickness, through the late night cravings, through the obnoxious and abrupt change of mood, through the days you cried from hardships, through the disagreements and fights with your family, through the times you missed your ex lover, through the times when money was strapped - and even after you gave birth to Hiro and Taichi, Yamazaki Sousuke was an ever present friend, and now an ever present father figure to your sons. He fulfilled the duties that your previous partner should be doing - welcoming them to the world with tears of joy, keeping them safe from harm, teaching them to grow up as good boys, scolding them when they do something wrong, treating them, being there for them, helping them play a prank on you, treating them sweets, holding them when they cried, holding them just because he loved them - Sousuke did everything that Miya Atsumu should be doing -

Miya Atsumu, oh, even his name alone vexed you.

Tension knotted your shoulders and your eyebrows met in the middle, creasing your forehead in the process. Your mood has soured completely at the thought of the man who left you - left you not because he did not love you anymore, but because of his dream. That was more selfish than falling out of love for you.

   You felt a palm softly hit your back, completely withdrawing you from the unwanted immersion of your hushed past and mistakes. You looked sideways and found Rin frowning at you; head cocked to one side. “I know that look all to well. We spent more than enough time to know what’s going inside that head of yours.” He chastised, and you lowered your head in shame. He stared at you for a while before sighing and then knocking his knuckles against your forehead. You looked up at him, bemused. “Look here, ( Your Name ), we didn’t spend eight months in Australia just for you to fall back to square one. You need to be careful with what and who you think. You don't know what could trigger you back to the person you used to be when you were still very hung up on that guy.”

     You did not answer him, not trusting your voice to speak for you. You knew Rin was right, and that you did not leave your home country in hopes of moving on from Miya Atsumu. And you thought you had, that you have successfully severed any connections and memories from him (deleted your social medias, dropped any people you two were mutual with, did not disclose your location and current living conditions to your parents and relatives, and making new social medias with care that he wouldn’t find them in case he decided to search for you), his existence merely a dot in an unfrequented portion of your mind. But after returning to Japan, with your chest puffed out and an adventurous grin decorating your brims asking the world to give you its best shot, you realized something – it wasn’t easy forgetting someone just because you left the very place that lingered with his name, because no matter how much you try to run from him, he gave you two precious gifts to remember him by.

"Hiro . . . Taichi . . . " You murmured to yourself as you gazee at your twins. God, even they look so much alike him. Their eyes, their smiles, their laughter, the way they pleaded with you when they wanted a kiss or hug, the way they always look for you whenever they did something they were proud of. How in the world could you move on from Miya Atsumu when it felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever you see your sons?

 “Can you maybe stop thinking about him? I just told you to stop thinking about that volleyball - ” Rin gagged as the profession of your ex boyfriend left his lips, tongue poking out, and you rolled your eyes at his playful display. “ – player. Stop being so stubborn.”

      “I wasn’t thinking about him.” You defended but your protest was nothing to be given trust on, and Rin knew this. Although he wasn't as constant as Sousuke on your pregnancy due to his busy schedule as an Olympian (and not to mention he was in Australia most of the time), he was still your best friend and never missed a day to face time you and check up on you. When you were pregnant and he was in Australia, he insisted being there for your check ups via facetime. But you didn't allow it because it felt weird. Whenever he was back in Japan, he would go straight to you and tend to you like Sousuke did. He cried the hardest when Hiro and Taichi were born and also gave you ideas for their names. He was just as great as a friend as Sousuke, but was probably their last favorite uncle. Sousuke being first, Iwaizumi being second, Sugawara third and him fourth but perhaps the titles has changed after Hiro and Taichi hung out with him in Australia. He was basically their father figure in Australia and he sure acted like one.

     Rin raised his eyebrow at you, not convinced. “Sure, you weren’t.”

              You lifted your nose, scoffing. “Fine, fine, you got me, I was thinking about him." Rin opened his mouth to scold you but you cut him off. "But only because he looks so much like my sons.”

  “He’s their father, [ Your Name ]. That’s how it works.” Rin playfully pointed out, smirking. “Just stop thinking about him. It's because you're entertaining the thought of him that he keeps coming back to you mind.”

                                       You let out an astounded gasp, hands coming to cover your agape mouth. “Stop thinking avout him -oh wow, Rin, I didn’t think of that! God, it was that easy? It was that easy?” Your sarcasm dribbled from your statement, and this time it was Rin who rolled his eyes. “If only you told me that earlier, if only I thought of that earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted so much money going to Australia with you! So, thank you again, Matsuoka Rin, for your wisdom. May you grace me with it once again in the future.”

    “Oh, haha, that's very funny. But nice try, ( Your Name ). You're not distracting me from this talk.” Inputs Rin, successfully diverting the subject back to its original track. You scowled. “After everything I've done for you. After all the efforts I put to make you forget about the dude – ” He ignored you as you tried to defend yourself. “ – He's nothing but a selfish prick, ( Your Name ). He abandoned you for his dreams. How can you still be hung up on him? I told you volleyball players were good for nothing but you never listen to me.”

You look at him, incredelous. You only hate volleyball players after what happened to me because of Atsumu. You held back a chuckle. Rin, you little goofball.

              You crossed your arms just as Rin did, and you continued sneering teasingly at him. “Rin, if my memory serves me right . . .” You began, voice high with vague intention.

         Seemingly picking up the mischief in your tone, Rin glared at you, as if daring you to continue your remark. “[ Your Name ], don’t you dare – ”

                        “Weren’t you rooting for him to be my boyfriend before?” You continued, smirk growing even wider as Rin spluttered at your words.

  Rin mirrored the color of his hair at the recollection and he stomped his feet at you, causing you to burst out laughing. "O-Only because I didn't know about his true colors before. Sure, he was charming and cool when I met him b-but - " Rin cleared his throat, eyes closing. " - he abandoned you, so I don't like him anymore, and I'll never root for him again. Not even for his team! He can break an ankle in his game or something. I still haven't forgiven him for what he did to you." You can feel the spite for Atsumu coming off from Rin as he carried on. "He has to get through me and Sousuke first before he can even lay eyes on you!"

         "How sweet. My very own censorship from Miya." You shook your head in appreciation and patted his back. “I don’t doubt that, Rin. And I’m sorry if it’s taking more time to forget about that volleyball player bastard as you often call him. But do you really think I can easily forget the father of my children?”

     Rin looked down on the pavement beneath his feet, eyes opening. “No,” He pouted, and you nodded to affirm his reply. Then, he turned to you, pouting. “But promise me he’s no longer part of your life.”

                        “He never will be again.” You promised. “Now stop being a dramatic baby. I’m an adult you know, and a mother. I think I can handle another month or two of being slightly heartbroken.”

 “Yes, yes, strong and independent woman who cries when Hiro and Taichi don’t sleep in their bedtime.” He jabbed at you.

                “Of course, you have the right to say that. Strong and independent Olympian who cries at sappy love stories.” Came your scoffing rebuttal, and instead of growing embarrassed, Rin laughed. You softened as you watched Rin laugh. He’s trying really hard to help me move on. You gulped, finger twitching. I won't let them down. I'll forget about Miya soon.

      “Mama, Mama! Lookie, lookie!” You turned to look back at Sousuke and your sons as soon as you heard Hiro calling for you. Amusement graced you mien as you watched Sousuke spin around with his hands holding on tightly to Hiro and Taichi who were draped over his shoulders. Your sons bore a sunny smile and were laughing joyously at Sousuke's antics. “We’re in a Ferris Wheel, Mama! Wee!”

                “Wee!” Echoed Taichi, and regardless of his reserved demeanor, he looked just as happy as his brother.

    You fluttered your fingers at them. “I can see that!” You bellowed with a titter. “I'm glad you two are having fun but Sou-kun is not a Ferris Wheel, you know? He'll get very dizzy soon, and so will you.”

            Despite of the spinning figure Sousuke was, you can still catch Hiro shaking his head in disagreement to your declaration. “No, no! I’m a strong boy, I don’t get dizzy, Mama!”

  “Not dizzy, Mama!” Taichi echoed once more. “I’m strong too! Me and Hiro strong!”

     “I know you two are strong. You’re my strong little boys, after all." You cooed. "But if he doesn't stop then you won't be able to see Sou-kun's new place! He even prepared a really big bedroom for us with a really big and bouncy bed. You can play there all you want.”

           Sousuke slowly stopped his twirling, panting and sweating but still smiling. Hiro and Taichi, realizing that Sousuke has stopped, whined in protest, demanding for him to continue spinning them. He shook his head, chortling. “Sorry boys, but we need to listen to your mother.” He slipped them off his shoulders and back to his arms. “Besides, don't you want to see Mochi already? I reckon you miss him, and he misses you too.”

 Just like that, the disappointment in their eyes vanished and they stared at Sousuke, starstruck. They looked like they just heard the greatest news that was ever said in the world, and as kids who were ommensely obsessed with their furry friend, it might possibly be considered one. "Mochi!" Yelled Taichi, the familiar name resonating with him. "I miss Uncle Sou and Mochi!" He took hold of Sousuke's shirt, tugging at it. "Where is Mochi, Sou-kun? Is he with you?"

      "He's at my apartment, where you'll be staying for a while." Answered Sousuke. "Ready to go there now? I bet Mochi is waiting for you by the door right now."

  Sousuke did not receive a verbal answer, but he did take how Hiro and Taichi tore themselves away from him, miraculously landing on the ground safely, and taking off to the direction of the apartment complex with short and quick footsteps, hands interlinked, as an appropriate answer to what they want. Rin jogged over to them and opened his arms, beaming with his eyes closed. “Do you want Uncle Rin to carry you to Sou-kun's place? I know where it is!” Offered Rin merrily, awaiting their acceptance to his proposal. However, he was left hanging abd disappointed as Hiro and Taichi passed him in a hurry to get to the entrance of the complex, shaking their heads.

"No!" Hiro rejected, shaking his head. "Uncle Rin always smell like chlorine! I don't like!"

     “Stinky Rin-kun.” Taichi added as he stuck his tongue out. “Rin-kun always smell like swimming poo!”

                        You and Sousuke shared a laugh as you watched Rin freeze, his smile and arms still in their position. His luggage fell from his grasp and on to the ground as he carried on with his frozen stance. Sousuke took your luggage and gave you one to carry. You took it from him the two of you walked and passed Rin without batting an eye to his still frame.

   “At least we know who’s the favorite uncle.” Chuckled out Sousuke as he looked over his shoulder to appraise Rin, grinning.

            “We all know the favorite uncle is Iwaizumi.” You pointed out. “I bet he can spin faster than you do, Sou.”

          Sousuke nudged your side, a light sting of pain running down the portion of your body which has collided with his elbow. You let out a yelp and rubbed your sore rib, glowering at the tall and lean swimmer beside you. “You’d really choose a volleyball player over a swimmer to be Hiro and Taichi’s favorite uncle?”

                      “I’m not choosing anything or anyone. I’m only telling the truth.” You shrugged. “Could be Suga too.”

   Sousuke curled his lips in a playful manner, feigning discontentment. “Then it seems I have some tough competitions.”

       You, Rin, and Sousuke easily caught up with your sons as their smaller frames were no match for your larger strides. Sousuke and Rin walked beside one another and walked with confidence as they have the knowledge of the layout of the apartment complex and knew the exact room which Sousuke occupier, and you walked behind Hiro and Taichi who were still holding hands and happily skipping behind the swimmer.

You watched as the two pairs interact with their counterpart, energetically sharing stories and laughter with one another. Rin and Sousuke were talking about the nearing olympics in a few months time, how the training was going in Australia, and when can Sousuke safely venture back to competitive swimming with the same harsh regime as Rin without fracturing his fragile shoulder. Hiro and Taichi, on the other hand, were singing foreign childrens' songs they heard in Australia, and although most of their sung lyrics were incorrect and far from fluent, they made up for it by adding their own twists and words into the song and creating a perfectly new song for themselves. Their hands never once relented as they walked on.

You cannot help but smile as you gazed at their interlocked hands. It was nice seeing your favorite boys getting along well. But that thought drew in a darker thought, one that you have constantly dismissed, but this time, you couldn't anymore.

You glanced beside you, and alas, you had no one. No one to hold hands with like your sons, and no one to freely chat with like your best friends. You looked down, saddened. The loneliness crept back to you, the loneliness you always fought hard not to fall into whenever you found yourself alone and with no person to accompany you. It reminded you that everyone had someone -Hiro had Taichi, Taichi had Hiro, Rin had Sousuke, and Sousuke had Rin. Who do you have?

I thought I had Atsumu.

"Mama?" Your stupor has come to a stop, and the loneliness has disappeared as familiar voices rang in your ears. Your sight cleared and you spotted Hiro and Taichi by your feet and were staring up at you, worry written all over their cute faces.

 Composing yourself, you cocked your head to one side, perplexed. "Yes? What is it?"You asked and bent down to their level. They continued staring at you, their lips pursed as they leaned forward to your frame. "Does my babies need anything, hm?"

          Hiro and Taichi, then, exchanged looks before nodding with one another. You stared at them, confusiom increasing. Despite being their mother, you never understood how Hiro and Taichi can communicate with one another without speaking. It was quite impressive.

Hiro and Taichi released their hands from one another and hurried over to your side. They reached down to take your hands in their soft snd gentle grip, Hiro holding one hand and Taichi holding the other. You stood up rose from your previous position, switching your curious gazes from Hiro to Taichi. In front of you, Sousuke and Rin has stopped and shifted their bodies to oversee the scene unfolding behind them.

"Mama, don't be sad. We don't like it when you're sad." Whimpered Taichi, and Hiro nodded in agreement. "We'll hold your hand too, so you can be happy like us!"

"Smile too, Mama! We love Mama's happy smile!" Yelled Hiro, leaping once. "See? Smile like this Mama. It's so easy!" Hiro showed you his biggest smile.

     You stared at your twins, heart melting as their innocent smiles displayed on their chubby faces. You closed your eyes, shooting your bundles of joy a comforting smile.

                               Right. You thought. I'm not quite alone, if I think about it. Not with Hiro and Taichi.

You smiled back at them. "Yeah, sorry about that. Mama was just thinking about something." And then you all carried on with your journey to Sousuke’s place, slowing down your pace to keep up with the skips of your sons as they held on to your hands tightly.

It didn’t take long until you arrived in Sousuke’s front door, his place located at the second floor. You were barely settling your stance by the door when you heard tiny footsteps padding from inside, followed by incessant pawing on the other side of the door and series of whines. You felt excitement bubble inside your chest as you heard the familiar noises of your dog. The last time you have seen your cute little Shiba Inu was when you left him in Sousuke’s care, and in hindsight, it was a pretty terrible decision to make as you knew Sosusuke and Mochi were not in good terms, and for absolutely no reason. When you handed Mochi to Sousuke hours before you left to get to the airport, you can see the disdain on both their faces and Mochi was growling at him as you left his house.

Mochi disliked Sousuke the moment they first met each other and Mochi had been keen on making Sousuke’s life a living hell ; whether it be destroying his bed, peeing on his pants, pooping on his shoes, stealing his food from the table, putting his medals in trashcans, just about everything a bad dog could do and perhaps worse and you wondered how Sousuke survived a whole eight months with the devil dog as he often called Mochi.

It was strange how Mochi hated Sousuke when he got along well with Rin.

         Hiro gasped and pointed at the door, turning his head to face Taichi. “Taichi, it’s Mochi!” Shouted Hiro. Immediately, Hiro tore away from you and Taichi went after him. Sousuke and Rin got out of their way, allowing them to be the first to enter the apartment. Sousuke twisted the doorknob after unlocking it and pushed open the door, and before a larger space could be provided to accommodate the small body of your pet, a faint color of brown and white dashed out from the apartment and tackled your sons to the ground.

  “Taichi, Hiro!” You shouted, rushing over to them to console them at their ungraceful plummet but you stopped dead on your tracks when you heard Hiro and Taichi laughing as Mochi stood over them with his little paws pressing on their tummies, tongue hanging out and a visible happy smile stretching his panting mouth. “Mochi!” They both called and Mochi let out a small bark of recognition before proceeding to run his tongue over their chubby cheeks, showing his excitement over their return and love for them.

                    Rin grinned as he watched Mochi lick Hiro and Taichi, and he bent his knees and smacked his hands against his thighs a couple of times. "Come here, Mochi. Come here." Mochi turned his head to look at Rin, and slowly and carefully trotting away from Taichi and Hiro to approach Rin. Mochi's tongue was poking out on one side and he was panting as he looked up at Rin. “Hey there, good boy.” Cooed Rin as he stroked Mochi’s head, and the dog let out a whine bark at his actions. “Have you been a good boy to Sousuke? Hmm? I bet you were, I bet you were such a good boy.”

      Sousuke scoffed and turned his nose in disgust as Mochi wagged his tiny ball of tail at Rin. “This dog could get lost and I won't bat an eye.”

  Hiro and Taichi sat up, tilting their head at what Sousuke has said. They turned to you, “Mama,” Called Hiro. “What does Sou-kun mean?”

                  You shook your head and approached them. “Nothing, baby. He’s just being mean to Mochi again.” You answered as you heloed them up to their feet. "There we go."

           Sousuke rolled his eyes – “Yeah, as if the dog didn't force me to buy new furniture every week because he won't stop chewing on them!”

Mochi didn't look at Sousuke even when his voice rose. He just let Rin pet and stroke his head.

 Hiro stomped his foot on the ground and Taichi clutched your shirt. “Sou-kun, don’t be mean to Mochi!” Scolded Hiro as he pointed a finger at him. "You can't be mean to dogs, okay?"

"But Mochi has been very mean to Uncle Sou." Sousuke put on a mask of face sadness. "He even but me here on my ankle. See?" Sousuke showed Hiro the tiny marks of teeth Mochi left when he tried to bite him.

Mochi barked at Sousuke, surprising all three adults. Why did it sound like Mochi understood what Sousuke said?

Hiro narrowed his eyes at Mochi and crossed his arms. "Mochi," He chirped and Mochi turned to him, ears flopping at his tone. "Bad Mochi. Mochi shouldn't be mean to Uncle Sou too!"

         Mochi whimpered with mild shame, and Sousuke smirked. “Yeah, that's right, Mochi,” Began Sousuke, pride encapturing him. “You should be nice to Uncle So - ” His arm extended to pet Mochi but before his palm can touch his fur, the Shiba Inu turned around, head snapping opposite of the direction of Sousuke as though he was a snobbish and spoiled dog repulsed by hid filthy hand and then ran up to you, standing up and putting his paws on your legs.

  You giggled and scooped up Mochi. He leaned forward to press his nose on your own, and began licking your face. "You missed me, Mochi? I missed you too." You cooed, snuggling Mochi. "I wish we could have brought you to Australia but it'll be a hassle."

       “Mama,” You heard Taichi whimper and you look down to see him staring up at you with teary eyes. He tugged at your shirt. “Mama, I want to play with Mochi.”

  You put Mochi back down on the ground and the dog ran back to your sons, circling them before rushing back to the apartment. Hiro and Taichi chased after Mochi, laughing.

                             Sousuke let out a sigh, and Rin smirked as he entered the apartment. “At least we know who the favorite dog uncle is.” Bantered Rin.

Sousuke tried to give Rin a soft kick on his lower back, but the supposed victim of his managed to flee from his assault, causing Sousuke to click his tongue. You and Sousuke went inside the apartment and stowed your belongings away in the room he reserved for you. It was spacious and can accomodate you and your two sons. One king sized bed with two windows overlooking the beautiful outdoors. After stowing your baggage away, you exited the room to find Hiro and Taichi playing with Mochi by the couch, and Rin seated on one of the chairs in the dining room, cap off and body easing.

     “Thanks again for letting me stay here, Sousuke.” You stated as you and the said male joined Rin in the dining room. You pulled out a chair and sat in front of Rin, and Sousukr occupied the chair beside you. "Really, thanks. I just . . . " You paused to gather your thoughts. " . . . I don't think I'm ready to face my parents just yet."

 “You can stay here as long as you want, just don’t leave that devil dog with me ever again.” Sousuke glanced at Mochi and your sons. "I don't think I would survive another day alone with that thing."

"I'm surprised you survived." Commented Rin. "When we landed on Australia, I was expecting a call from you maybe complaining about Mochi or reporting that he ran away from you or something. Surprisingly, none."

"Trust me. I was this close to calling. But I knew how important the trip to Australia was for ( Your Name ) so I didn't." Sousuke answered. "I can tell you everything that happened to me and Mochi, but that would take too long so I won't bother. It'll bore you anyway."

               “Thanks for that too, Sou.” You giggled nervously. “I guess Mochi is a little handful for you. I’m sorry.”

 Sousuke heaved a sigh. "Don't say sorry. It's over now." He spoke. "Anyway, enough about me and Mochi. How was Australia? And how is, uh . . . " He cleared his throat. " . . . moving on going?"

                        “It was fun in Australia, yeah.” You answered joyously, ignoring Sousuke's last comment. “Sure, it was scary to be out of the country for the first time, but Rin helped me adjust and brought me, Hiro and Taichi to tourist destinations. He even bought me a bunch of souvenirs!”

         Sousuke nodded, a soft smile plastering to his brims. "I'm glad you liked it there." Remarked he. "I heard from Rin you and the twins always visit him in his practice."

“Yeah, yeah. [ Your Name ] would always drop by to give me lunch. And sometimes she'll even help with training.” Rin inserted. “To be honest, I prefer her training regime than Mikhail’s. Just-Just don't tell that to Mikhail.”

                  “I kinda understand why you'd think that. Although Mikhail was a great swimmer back then, [ Your Name ] has practically been our coach when we were still in Sano. It's only natural she knows what training is more effective on you.” Sousuke leaned against his chair. "And what's Mikhail take on her helping you?"

            Rin let out a nervous chuckle and you produced a genuine laugh. “Actually,” You started, still laughing. “Mikhail wasn’t very fond of the idea, but . . . ”

  Rin shook his head, red hair moving with his actions. “They bonded over my muscles and that gained her approval from Mikhail.”

"Now, don't sound so disappointed, Rin." You badgered. "I think it's great someone else appreciates how well proportioned you are. Plus, it got me Mikhail's permission to continue helping with your training."

                                  Sousuke threw his head back, laughing. “Of course, it would be something as stupid as that. I still don't understand what's up with Rin's body that got you so worked up buy at least it all worked out for you.” He voiced. “How about Hiro and Taichi? Did they have fun too?”

"Oh, they had fun. More than they should have. They were all over the place - my God - even in the airplane." You informed. "They keep trying to run from me because everything was so interesting to them. I love my sons, really, I do. But when I was in Australia, I contemplated buying both of them leashes just so I won't lose sight of them."

            “All over the place? That’s an understatement.” Huffed Rin. "Those two nearly gave me a heart attack when they jumped in the pool."

Sousuke blinked, as though trying to register what Rin had just said. "Wait - What?" His back straightened and his brows furrowed. "Jumped in the pool - Hiro and Taichi - what?"

"Exactly as you heard." Confirmed Rin. "They always catch me out of the pool when they stop by to give me my lunch. But there was one time when Mikhail made me try a new drill so it was taking me a little longer to finish my practice. Hiro thought he'd be a good little boy and try to call for me, so he went ahead and jumped in the pool. My only guess is that he thought the pool was shallow."

Sousuke looked over at you, and you ducked your head in shame. Rin noticed the accusatory glare sent your way by Sousuke and he shook his head.

    “Don't blame ( Your Name ). Hiro actually tore himself away from her when she was tying Taichi's shoes and came looking for me.” Said Rin. “Taichi followed afterwards because everything Hiro does - ”

Sousuke sighed. " - Taichi does."

"Thank God one of my teammates saw them and saved them." Rin breathed. "And you can't get mad at Hiro and Taichi because even though they nearly got themselves killed, they had pure intentions."

Sousuke looked over at you. “Perhaps it is time to buy them a leash.”

            Rin snorted. “Especially Hiro.”

                        “Huh?” Hiro and Taichi poked their heads out from behind the sofa, Mochi joining in after a few seconds. “Did you call me, Rin-kun?”

  “I heard leash!” Yelled Taichi. “Are we going to buy a new leash for Mochi?” Mochi let out a woof as he heard his name being mentioned.

      You shook your head, smiling. “No, no, we're talking about something else. Just go back to playing with Mochi.”

Hiro and Taichi both nodded and was about to return to playing with your favorite Shiba Inu when Hiro noticed the click. He let out an excited gasp and poked his head behind the couch again, grinning. "Mama, Mama! Sou-kun, Rin-kun!" Hiro yelled as he flailed his arms to get your attention. "TV, I want TV!"

    “TV?” Asked Sousuke, head craning to look pass you and to your older son. "Oh, do you want to watch something?"

  Hiro nodded enthusiastically and pointed at the large flat screen television in front of the couch. "It's three PM! There will be replay of Tsumu's team!" Shouted Hiro, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying hard to control yourself. "Can you open the TV for me and Taichi, Uncle Sou? Pleaseeee?"

     Rin casted a worried glance your way as Sousuke stood up to turn on the television. Hiro and Taichi practically buzzer with excitement as they patiently waited for the television to come to life and they cheered once it did.

After changing the channel to the correct channel, you saw from where you sat in the apartment a longshot of the volleyball court displaying in the screen. It was filled to the brim with volleyball enthusiasts and fans of either teams. You can hear the cheers coming from opposite sides and the commentators were discussing their speculations on the upcoming game. Hiro and Taichi hopped off the sofa, wobbled over to the front of the television, sat down and gazed up at it, eyes shining and excited. Mochi left the couch as well and settled himself beside Taichi.

                 “[ Your Name ],” Said Rin after Sousuke has returned. You can hear the hesitance amd softness in his voice. “Are you okay?”

"At least I don't have to bring up the whole moving on trip all over again." Murmured Sousuke.

The truth to be told, even you didn't know. Anyone bringing up Miya Atsumu was fine with you, but hearing your sons mention him in the kind of way that was filled with adoration - you can't help wonder about the what ifs.

You let out a deep sigh and nodded. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Your answer came out dismissive, causing Rin and Sousuke to exchange looks. "I can't really stop my sons from admiring him, that would be childish and stupid. I mean . . . " Your forefinger dragged along the surface of the desk, and you watched the skid mark you left behind slowly vanish. " . . . Atsumu is a great athlete, and so are his teammates. I can't deny that."

You can hear the cheers grow louder in the television as the players of both teams are being introduced to the spectators.

"Playing against them is the Black Jackals Volleyball team! Introducing, their setter - Miya Atsumu - "

      Hiro and Taichi threw their hands up in the air, reaching out for the screen. "Tsumu!" They both shouted, and despite yourself, you turned to look at the screen. You froze as you watched a familiar face emerge in the camera, a carefree smile plastered on his face as he waved at everyone present in the court before proceeding to give high fives to his team.

"High five!" Yelled Hiro as he stood up from the ground to press his tiny hand on the screen. On cue, the camera followed Atsumu as he ran pass the camera, waving at it before making his way to the court, giving his other teammates the opportunity to be introduced.

Hiro looked at his hand which he had pressed against the screen and turned to you. "Mama, Tsumu gave me a high five, Mama!"

You smiled at Hiro as a reply while Taichi sniffled, tears brimming his eyes. "I want a high five from Tsumu too."

Hiro looker at his hand again, thenat Taichi, then at his hand before pressing his palm against Taichi's. Hiro grinned. "There, now you have a high five from Tsumu too!"

                         You looked at Sousuke and Rin, pausing for a brief moment to gather your thoughts. “See that? I’m not going to keep my sons from admiring him just because I have history . . . bad history with him. Besides . . . ” You swallowed as you looked at Hiro and Taichi eagerly waiting for the introduction of the teams to finish. “This is the closest they can get to Atsumu.”

                           Sousuke and Rin did not speak and looked at Hiro and Taichi as well. After a moment or so, Sousuke broke the silene. “If it makes you feel better, it’s Rin’s fault for introducing the twins to volleyball.” Said Sousuke, pointing at Rin with his thumb.

   Rin leaned back, appalled by the bold accusation. “How is that my fault?”

                      “You left the TV in the sports channel after you watched your interview and they saw Miya Atsumu –”

Rin shot Sousuke a glare. "Oh, so we're talking about past mistakes now." The maroon haired man adjuster his sitting position. "How about you, Sousuke. Let's talk about the time you bought Hiro and Taichi hair dyes - "

      Sousuke turned away, flushing red. "I said I was sorry."

"Now, ( Your Name ) has to think about that stupid blond volleyball player every time she looks at her now blond sons." Fought Rin.

   “Not every time, just sometimes.” You protested.

"I get it, I get it, I messed up." Relented Sousuke. "But you'd do the same thing if Hiro and Taichi begged you. Still, I'm sorry."

You smothered your laughter to your throat. You can just imagine how difficult it was for Sousuke to try and deny Hiro and Taichi from getting hair dye. They know how much power they have over Sou. You thought, amused. Probably used their puppy eyes or something.

              “You should be sorry.” Affirmed you, wiggling your finger at Sousuke. “Rin had to talk me out of punching you.”

    Rin curved a smug smile to his mien. “I was tempted to let [ Your Name ] do so just for fun.”

                                 “Uwaa,” You heard Hiro and Taichi coo in sync as you heard the cheers from the television diminish. You shot a glimpse at the television to see the entire stadium has gone quiet as Atsumu prepared to serve. His eyes shone with determinstion, and the twins eyes glimmered as they awaited his serve. A service ace, they hoped.

              “You don’t have to worry about me guys.” You told Rin and Sousuke, features soft as you turned back to them just as Atsumu began moving. The cheer erupted again, and your twins joined their noisen “Australia has been a nice change of pace, and Rin has helped me a lot. I haven't moved on, to be honest. Not completely, but I'm there, somewhere. I just need . . . " You inhaled. " . . . to learn how to live before Atsumu entered my life.”

                                    Sousuke folded his arms, nodding. Rin reached from across the table to ruffle your hair, his pointy teeth flaahing at you. "We know you'll get there. Just take your time, ( Your Name )." Encouraged Rin.

     You smiled back at him, thankful for his words and action. “I’m fine, really.” You pressed on. “Plus, I’m going to be even better tomorrow."

"Why? What's with tomorrow?" Questioned Sousuke.

"After a good night's rest, I'll be meetint up with Suga and Iwa." You responded cheerfully.

           “I didn’t know about this.” Sousuke narrowed his eyes. “You just returned to Japan and you’re already making plans.”

"I don't know how you can move on from Miya when you're literally friends with two ex volleyball players." Complained Rin.

"Oikawa will be there too." You added.

Rin raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that better?"

"They're my friends, Rin. I won't dump them just because they used to play volleyball." You defended, exasperated. "And speaking of," You twisted your body to face Sousuke and before he can speak, you reached out and took his calloused hand in yours. "Sou, I have a favor to ask you."

  Sousuke didn’t let you continue and tugged his hand away from your grip. “No,”

                   You pouted, hand withdrawing from him. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

  “Were you going to ask me to look over Hiro and Taichi while you’re out?” Affirmed Sousuke.

 You tittered nervously. You pressed the tips of your forefingere against each other, whispering, “Maybe?”

    “Then no.” Finalizer Sousuke.

                        You slouched against your chair, whining. “Oh come on,” You prolonged the verbalization of the last word with a voice of complain.

      “Why don’t you just bring them with you?” Offered Rin.

  “I want to but I feel like I just want to talk to Suga and Iwa without having to worry about them eavesdropping. They don’t have to hear my problems.” You explained. "Please, Sou,"

           “I can always babysit them.” Rin perked up at his own suggestion. 

You shook your head. “No way, Rin. I know you planned on meeting with Haru-kun and Makoto-kun tomorrow. You’ll either cancel on them or cancel on me.”

     “I can always invite them here, that way I won’t cancel on anyone.” Rin suggested.

 “In my apartment? No way. It's crowded as it right now,” Sousuke rejected and faced you. “Fine, I’ll look after them, but come back quick, okay? You know how Hiro and Taichi get when you're gone for too long.”

                 "Thank you so much, Sou. You're the best." You smiled. You rose from your chair, fishing your phone out of your pocket. "I'll go tell them it's still on tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Mumbled Sousuke, scoffing.

Rin narrowed his eyes at you as you left the room. "Oi, ( Your Name ), what about me? Am I not the best too - oi, oi!"

You pretended not to hear Rin and retreated back to your room, giggling.

             ***

Hiro and Taichi, through wide and awed lenses, watched intently as the Black Jackals replay displayed the highlights of the game. Not once hace their golden eyes left the screen, too immersed with the game showcased in the television. Hiro had a big and wide smile on his face, and Taichi had a small 'o' formed on his lips. Mochi yawned as he looked over the twins.

"Taichi, Taichi, look," Hiro pointed as the television showed Hinata Shoyo jumping nearly over the net, hand raising to spike the volleyball. "It's Tangerine-kun!"

"Frog-kun!" Yelled Taichi. "Ah, Hiro, it's Kou-kun!"

"And Omi-san!" Hiro and Taichi let out excited cheering as they watched Sakusa slammed the ball on ground on the other side of the court, Bokuto coming up behind him to pat his back for a job well done.

"Uwaaa, that was so - " Hiro cut himself off as a familiar face popped up in the screen. The television showed Atsumu serving once more, and even the twins themselves, fell silent once again as they watched Atsumu do a service ace.

                 Hiro couldn't understand the feeling in his chest as he watched Atsumu serve. His hand buzzed with excitement, and all he wanted was to do what Atsumu was doing. Taichi turned to his twin and noticee the oddity in his visagen. He tilted his head. "Hiro?" Taichi called.

Hiro turned to Taichi, eyes glimmering. “Taichi, I want to be like Tsumu.” He pointed at the screen. "Do you think I can be like Tsumu?"

Before Taichi can answer, a commercial was played in the middle of the replay, and it displayed the whole Black Jackals team, and another volleyball team Hiro and Taichi were not familiar with.

Overlapping on their images were the words - Black Jackals Versus Red Bulldogs, catch them live tomorrow in Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium.

        Hiro gasped in excitement at the news. "Black Jackals are going to be here in Tokyo tomorrow! Taichi, Taichi, they're here in Tokyo!"

Taichi puffed his cheeks. "We can meet Tsumu?"

 Hiro nodded enthusiastically. “We can meet Tsumu, Tangerine-kun, Omi-san, and Kou-kum!” Confirmed Hiro. "Should we ask Mama to take us there?"

            "There's my favorite twins, Rin, all of a sudden, plopped down behind Hiro and Taichi, startling both of them and Mochi. Rin wrapped his arms around their torsos and pulled them to his lap. “What are you guys talking about?” He asked.

  "Uncle Rin, we're going to meet Tsumu tomorrow!" Said Hiro.

Rin laughed awkardly. "Oh, are you now?"

Taichi nodded. "Tsumu and friends - " Rin snorted at how Taichi has referred them. " - will be here tomorrow, in Tokyo."

"We'll ask Mama to bring us there. I know she'll be happy to meet Tsumu too!" Added Hiro.

"Ooh," Rin sucked in. "I don't think so."

"Huh?" Hummed Taichi, puzzlee by Rin's actions and words.

Hiro, however, did not notice this. "Maybe Mama will marry Tsumu when she meets him! Then we'll have a daddy!"

  "Hopefully not," Murmured Rin. "That won't happen, you know."

Hiro fell silent at that, and tears immediately began forming in his eyes. Taichi looked worriedly at him, whispering his name. Rin, on the other hand, was panicking. For the first time, Hiro was the crybaby.

"I-I meant that won't happen because your Mama can't take you to the game tomorrow!" Rin frantically added. "She has to meet your Uncle Iwaizumi and Uncle Sugawara!"

Hiro stopped sniveling at what Rin had shared with him. He wiped his tears. "Mama has to meet Iwa-kun and Suga-kun?" He whimpered. "Can't you take us there, Uncle Rin? Please?"

Rin looked away from Hiro and Taichi, knowing all too well he would fall in the same mistake as Sousuke if he looked at them. "Sorry, but your Mama won't allow that."

Taichi tugged at his shirt and he bit his lower lip, still trying to resist them. "Please, Rin-kun,"

"I want to bring you there but your Mama wouldn't let me." Explained Rin, sighing. "I'm sorry guys."

Hiro pouted and crossed his arms. "Then-Then," He breathed in, and cried out. "Me and Taichi will go there alone! A-And we'll bring Mochi!"

At that time, Rin thought Hiro was joking, so he did not take this declaration seriously. He merely nodded as he ruffled both their hairs. "Yeah, sure you will."

Rin did not make the same mistake as Sousuke, but he certainly made a worse one.

--

sousuke is the favorite uncle of the four men. rin used to be last but after the twins have spent time with him in australia, he is now on par with sousuke

mochi hates sousuke because he smells something odd coming from him whenever you were present

hiro and taichi call sousuke, sugawara, rin, and iwaizumi either with a -kun or with an uncle

(taglist closed - @itzgabz22 @tnu-ree @adrasteiaxandromedaa @aquzairus @ephemeralsunny @jirachii-chan @lifeisnotdiajoubu @fandomtrashpandasposts @diyosku @agaashesmilktea @honey-pop-pop @toripersonalacc @kozukth @minty-mangos-world @kellesvt @obsessedwhxre @helloshoutohere @queenofallslay @sakusa-simp @tsukkx @kyomihann @yoitsseulgi @dinablossom @youpieceofwasabi  @riniii @jeonsthighs97 @shoutobabyboy @sillyroyalty @ushi-please  xstormiii @cowward @peachiikichu  @vantaekiim @nerdynstoned @hxked @melodiamore @renyfran @humanitysbiggestsimp @froyopet @stantalentstanunderratedgroups @mkazuyuh @booklover240 @miyayassy @marvelous-maxi @ptv-hades @koukatsuki@anihoesimp @hobobob38-blog @tintina365 @hai-q-haikyuu @cruelstring @les-i-m-miserable @somehowstillalive123 @bunny-on-crack​

current favorite uncle status - sousuke, rin, iwaizumi, sugawara

sousuke bought blond hair dye for hiro and taichi because they begged him to with their cute puppy eyes. don't worry he made sure it was safe for kids and he helped them even but never told yoi that part

the time you saw your kids blond nearly made you punch sousuke (as said in the story) but rin had to hold you back literally by your arms because he doesn't want sousuke to end up in the hospital

sousuke moved from his house to an apartment

vip - @1plus1kiyoomi )

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smau #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagines #atsumu

[boltwrites]

Bolin and you having a casual night in making dinner. You're more skilled in the kitchen bc you were always cooking as a kid and bolin tries to help but he's a little clumsy (SFW) or yall get a little dirty in the kitchen/melty chocolate in bed 👀 (NSFW) Either one would be great! 😭 you got me addicted to more bolin content

headcanon weekend | request rules | send a prompt!

A/N: haha, you expect to give me two options and for me NOT to write for both of them? i am a bigender bisexual, i can’t choose worth a shit, anon. you get ALL the headcanons

By clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

Sweet

while Bolin isn’t a stranger to the kitchen, he has his own recipes that he knows how to make, and he sticks to those. it takes him forever to learn a new recipe, and he always forgets a step

he’s also a tornado in the kitchen. what would take you maybe a pot, a cutting board, a knife, and a spoon, would take him two pots (both now with baked on stains), three spoons, a spatula (why did he need that???), two plates, and a knife. oh, and he left the spices out on the counter again instead of putting them away. Bolin!!

Bolin likes to help with dinner, or at least wash the dishes afterwards. but you know he kind of hates doing the dishes (at least, when he’s doing them alone) so you vow to cook together more often

it’s difficult - you butt heads sometimes, because Bolin is used to cooking over an open flame and slapping stuff together, not really caring much for measuring. meanwhile you grew up in a family where baking was common, so you stick to the recipe more often

eventually you settle into a groove, once you realize that you need to act as head chef, and Bolin as sous chef. if you let him know exactly what step he’s on and what he needs to do, he can do it, very well, even

you let him do all the chopping because he seems to like it and he’s pretty good with the knife. 

you forbid him from frying things once hot oil spits out of the pan and burns his finger. he asks you to kiss it better and you do, then you kiss his lips, calling him a big baby

Bolin is also in charge of spices. it’s the one part of the recipe you’ll let him change - growing up in a partially fire nation family, Bolin knows a lot of good spice combinations, and you’re happy to listen to him.

baking is a different story - you both always end up covered in flour, Bolin eats a portion of the cookie dough before it’s in the over, and Pabu steals the wooden spoon. it’s a mess and you love it

Spicy

however, sometimes you decide to cook for Bolin when you know he’ll be home late. one night you’re almost finished dinner, the dish in the over to keep warm as you make a glaze for the arctic hen you prepared

you hear Bolin come home - you know he’s there because you can hear the door and also you can hear him greet Pabu with some sweet words and behind the ear scratches.

Eventually he makes his way into the kitchen, and while he would usually sit down at the table and wait for you to finish, instead he walks up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

you giggle, and it only gets worse when Bolin wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest as you try to stir. He kisses over your cheek, down your jaw, and along your neck.

“what’s this all about?” you ask, because while Bolin is very affectionate, this is a lot - and very steamy, you might add. he kisses right behind your ear and pulls back to look you in the eye, and you know that look. oh, he - oh.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” he mumbles, slipping a hand under your shirt to smooth over your stomach. you shiver, because his touch is so light and gentle and you can’t get enough of it.

“what’s the occasion?” yout gasp out, and he just pulls back, spinning you around to face him. he kisses you properly - deep and longing, you part your lips for him and he deepens the kiss, licking against you until you go weak in his arms

“no reason, just love you,” is his only answer. he directs you away from the stove, the dish forgotten. he picks you up - easily, the strong boy - and sets you down on the counter, working on your pants already.

as you both undress, he kisses you senseless, his lips locked to yours until you’re both nude from the waist down and you’re so ready for him

he sets you on the counter, pressing in with purpose, and you both moan. he fucks you like that, his thrusts shallow but still so fulfilling as you grip at his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his hair.

eventually the angle isn’t enough for either of you and Bolin picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. he presses you against the wall, and you gasp when he thrusts in. the thrusts themselves are more like shallow grinds, but he holds your weight and doesn’t even break a sweat, his face buried in your neck as he moans so sweet for you. you can’t hold back your own noises either, trying to grind back down against him.

you come first, crying out, clutching at his back. he holds you tighter, fucking into you just a fraction faster until he follows you over the edge, spilling inside you with a soft moan of your name

the glaze burns, and you have to scrape out the pan later, but it was worth it

#asks #anon #bolin x reader #mine #Anonymous

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game (Part 2)

Word Count: 20K+ total Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Ashton grabbed his bag and shut off the lights in the bar. Hima was waiting impatiently by the door, keys in hand. Following the disaster of an afternoon, they'd been packed until closing. He'd been too busy cooking to think about it, something he loved about his job. The rush and the heat combined with the complete focus on his work. You had to keep your eyes on your fingers or you got hurt. The satisfaction of plating an order and sending it out until the next order came in, starting the process over again. 

"Will you come on?" Hima tapped her foot, making her keys jangle. "My brother is waiting for us."  Her twin brother had passed the bar exam a month ago, but everything had been so crazy with the opening they hadn't properly celebrated yet. 

The bouncer recognized Hima and let them in immediately. Tirana was a sleek, neon-lit bar favoring overpriced cocktails, elaborately garnished and meant to be as much of a showpiece as a beverage. Ashton eyed the crowd full of men sporting off the rack Italian suits with egos as inflated as their dates' chests. Kabir was waiting in VIP with his friends and waved them up. Ashton congratulated him and ordered a spiked seltzer, passing on the bottle service Kabir offered. Hima was taking shots with the guys and he joined them in a toast. As he was taking a drink he spotted Calum Hood leaning against the wall, looking bored and maybe a little drunk. Hima must've seen his expression because she whipped around just as Calum looked up and noticed them. Ashton tried to look away and act as if he hadn't noticed the other man. Hima had other ideas and made a beeline for the reporter. 

"Hey Calum, fancy meeting you here," she said relieved when he seemed happy to see her. "Come have a drink with us, or am I interrupting something?"

"If you're buying," Calum replied. "A friend brought me here and then fucked off on a phone call." He laughed, but it died out when he saw Ashton.

"Listen," Hima cut him off before he could speak. "I know this afternoon didn't go well, but what you don't know is just before you came in, my boss had to sit through an interview with Kevin Mackie. It did not go well " 

"Oh God, that insufferable bastard," Calum snorted.

"Exactly, and you know Mackie brought up all that old shit from Lune Rouge," Hima told him "That's in addition to insulting every woman who works there, of course." 

Calum cringed, and his eyes flickered back towards Ashton talking to Kabir and his lawyer friends. He couldn't help but notice the contrast between the intense scowling man he'd encountered this afternoon and the smiling bubbly ray of sunshine he was looking at now. Was that an actual giggle? Calum blamed the tequila for agreeing to join Hima for a quick drink since his date still hadn't come back. He'd allowed his editor, Shamara, to set him up twice now, but there wouldn't be a third time. 

Ashton wiped his sweaty palms on his black jeans as he watched Calum following Hima over towards them. He'd found the reporter attractive this afternoon, but he'd been wearing a long sleeve button up for the interview. Tonight Calum was in all black, and the tank top he wore under the leather jacket showed the ink etched into his skin above his collarbones. Ashton gripped the drink in his hands a bit tighter, trying to keep his nerves steady. He slowly edged his way over to where they were talking just as Calum launched into a story about his magazine sending him on a tour of small mom and pop restaurants up the California coast. 

"The owner's husband was sick that day, so she was doing most of the work herself," Calum was saying as Ashton listened in on the conversation. "Beulah was amazing, but they were getting slammed. I asked if she needed any help, and I spent the next three hours manning a fryer. I cooked the chicken, and she'd toss it in the hot oil and spices before slapping it on a bun with the sauce. You'd get the sandwich, pickle, and fries in a little brown sack. We sold hundreds of them, but I knew why when it slowed down enough that I finally got to eat. It's the best chicken sandwich you'll ever have! Tossing it in that spicy oil gives it a flavor that punches you in the mouth. She taught me most of her secrets over the two days I ended up staying until her husband got over the flu.." 

I could listen to this man talk all day, Ashton thought watching Calum's expressions and hands as he told the story. The way his chest rumbled when he laughed, which was often throughout the tale. He seemed like a genuinely warm person, and Hima seemed to like him. Maybe I was wrong, five years is a long time

"That's so sweet," Hima smiled up at Calum as he finished..  She was smitten despite hearing rumors he played for the other team. 

"Ended up extending my trip for an extra five days which caused all sorts of headaches when I got back. My boss was pissed I'd gone over my expense account," Calum said, shaking his head at the memory, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol now loosening his tongue. He was relieved his date was still MIA. Ashton was standing close enough for Calum to smell his cologne, and it was proving distracting. 

"Is that the same magazine you work for now?" Hima asked.

"Yeah, but I was damn near fired. I paid back the money by throwing cash onto my boss's desk when I turned in my story, and he was not amused. The editor-in-chief, who also owns the publisher,  loved my story, and after that, I was sent on more in-depth character profiles. I wanna get to know the people behind the food." Calum looked directly at Ashton, meeting his eyes as he spoke. His breath caught in his throat at the intensity in Ashton's hazel eyes as he listened. How is he this handsome? Calum thought. This man has no right to be this good looking. That chest hair peeking out from under that pink shirt is teasing me. Wonder what's underneath? Wait, no I don’t. Stop thinking about that or you're gonna get hard.

"So what exactly were you sent to find?" Ashton asked, his tone still guarded but more friendly than before. 

Calum took a deep breath and thought quickly. After the interview bombed this afternoon, he came up with a backup plan if Ashton didn't come through. He made a decision to float both his ideas.

"Look, I know a lot of people are bugging you for gossip about your personal life, but that's not what I'm here for. You opened your first restaurant at 25, and the food at Lune Rouge was fantastic. I know I didn't give you a good review then, but I was trying to be edgy and cool," Calum admitted.

Ashton exhaled and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. Mackie brought up Luke, and when you mentioned Finn I snapped. I'd like to try again, but I know Hima is more interesting. So what did you have in mind?" Ashton smiled and Calum had butterflies in his stomach. 

"I'd like to watch you cook, and see how you are in the kitchen. Tell me how your philosophy on cooking has evolved and what stayed the same," Calum replied. I hope that didn't sound as cringe to him as it did to me. Turning to Hima, he continued talking, "I'd like to do an extra little feature on you if that's ok. It'll give the article a nice balance I think, what do you say?" 

Ashton saw Hima's face light up and knew he'd have to say yes. He had to admit, the pitch sounded great, even if the idea of Calum watching him work made him nervous. They turned towards him to see what he thought, and Ashton's gaze landed on Calum's mouth just as he licked his lips. Please don't do that, he thought to himself. Don't make me think about how you taste, and how those lips would feel against mine.

"I definitely think Hima deserves her own feature. I'll go along with whatever you want," Ashton told them. 

"You know Calum," Hima turned on the charm. "I'm off tomorrow. I could take you to the best Indian restaurant you've never heard of for lunch." Her eyes got huge and she grabbed Calum's arm. "I'm a genius you guys, listen, the restaurant is hella busy, and the boss man," she nodded towards Ashton, "won't be much fun to interview if there are customers waiting. He just redid the kitchen in his condo, so why don't you do the interview there? That way he's not around us idiots at the restaurant." 

Both men stared at her, and Hima panicked thinking she'd overstepped somehow until Ashton nodded. "Sounds like it could work, what do you think?" He asked looking at Calum who nodded, his smile getting broader. 

“Sure, um, that sounds great. Really just um, great," he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. "Go ahead and put your number in, and I'll text you tomorrow." 

"Is that your little sister?" Hima asked, spotting the picture on his lock screen. 

"That's my daughter, Vanessa Joy. Absolute light of my life," Calum beamed, pulling up another pic.

"Daughter?" Hima and Ashton exchanged shocked looks before quickly regaining their composure.

"We were kids. I hadn't figured things out yet," Calum gave his standard explanation. 

He started to say more, but he spotted his now-forgotten date headed back towards them.  Hima saw his grimace and followed his gaze to the approaching man. She guessed he must be a lawyer who wanted everyone to know it, wearing a double-breasted British tailored suit and gold Submariner watch.

"Sorry about that Cal, that was a client who's a real pain in the ass," the newcomer joined their little group, peering at Ashton with suspicion. "I'm Nick Callahan, a junior partner at Fish, Filbeck, and Greene " Hima almost laughed out loud at this skinny little dude in a fancy suit trying to puff out his chest and put some bass in his voice as he went to shake her boss's hand. Ashton looked amused but Calum not so much. 

"Calum, if you don't mind, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Nick waved at a group who'd just come in. He tried to pull Calum away, but he shook Nick's hand off his arm.

"Give me a second, and I'll be over," Calum said, nodding at someone he recognized in the group. "Tell Teddy to order a round of drinks, I'm buying." When Nick still didn't budge, Calum turned his body towards his date and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I'm interviewing this young lady tomorrow, and I want to get it set up before I get drunk, ok?" 

Nick swallowed at the warning in Calum's voice and scurried off to meet his friends. 

"Sorry about that," Calum turned back, smiling again. He had them each put their number in and saved the info with a smile.  "I'm so glad I ran into y'all. Hima, I will text you in the morning, and Ashton just let me know when and where." He gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek which made her blush furiously. He shook Ashton's hand and everything seemed to pause as they locked eyes, exchanging smiles. The handshake lingered a beat too long before they both pulled back completely flustered. 

"See you guys then," Calum made a hasty retreat towards Nick and his friends. 

"What did you do?" Ashton hissed, feeling dizzy, excited, terrified, and nauseous all at once. 

"We'll just have to see, won't we? You two are obviously into each other," Hima tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving Ashton a pointed look. 

"I'm not trying to start anything, you know that. Since the divorce it's been too hard and-" Ashton stopped when she put her finger to his lips.

"It's an interview. With a very attractive reporter. You'll be in your element, you can hide behind your food and your knives, but you can get through this. I want my feature." She glared at him and stood on her tiptoes trying to go eye to eye with him.

He had to laugh. Hima was impossible to stay cross with. As he glanced back over towards Calum, he couldn't deny he was intrigued. Don't get your hopes up, Irwin. 

Kabir came over to drag them back to his friends. Ashton spent the next hour dancing with Kabir's girlfriend and watching his friends try to hit on Hima without getting caught. Hima's family was overprotective, and her mother was constantly pressuring Kabir to find his sister a good match. As a result, she kept her private life closely guarded, even Ashton didn't know much, although he suspected she had a thing going with one of the servers at Anne-Marie's. 

As the song ended, he realized he had to pee. Ashton excused himself and followed the neon arrows to a dimly lit hallway decorated with glow in the dark graffiti. He made his way past the line for the women's room and around two people noisily making out next to the emergency exit. He reached the men's room door just as it swung open towards him. He stumbled back to avoid being hit and collided with the couple behind him. An arm shot out from the tangled bodies, shoving him forward chest first into the man who'd just come out of the bathroom. Ashton put his hands up to steady himself, inhaling the scent of leather and whiskey with a faint whiff of stale tobacco as he looked at Calum's face inches from his own.

"Sorry, uh, I was pushed," Ashton apologized, unable to stop staring at the other man's lips.

"It's ok," Calum's heart was pounding, and he was sure Ashton could feel it through his jacket. He was tempted to make a move and go in for a kiss. He paused long enough to remember the interview, and not wanting to have another misstep, he let the moment pass. "It's all yours," he said squeezing over so Ashton could pass.

Ashton paused, confused, but remembered he was headed to the bathroom. "Thanks, uh, see ya," he replied trying not to stammer. Yeah, that was smooth, he thought. Before he closed the door, he looked back and caught Calum looking back at him.hey both smiled before the crowd closed in and he lost eye contact. He had to stand and splash cold water on his face to get his pulse back to normal. When he looked in the mirror, he saw that his face was still very pink and he was grinning like a fool. I didn't just imagine that did I? What am I doing? What am I going to cook for him? 

*********

Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer even though he was expecting her. He quickly let her up, and within seconds Hima was at his door. 

"How did it go?" He hadn't even fully opened the door before the question was past his lips.

"Eager much? Why don't you get me a drink, and I'll decide what I want to tell you," she said, taking off her jacket and hanging it up. 

"You impertinent bitch," Ashton cracked up and headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

"You sound like my mother," Hima settled at the bar facing him.

Ashton had expanded his kitchen so he could install a six top gas range and a convection oven while giving himself extra counter space with a small sink directly across and a small island in between. Instead of a dining room, he had an L-shaped bar where he could serve guests directly from the kitchen. He pulled a pitcher of cold brew out of the fridge and poured himself a glass with a splash of cashew milk adding a splash to her cup of hot chai. 

"It's such a shame you're gay. We'd have such a great marriage," she joked blowing on her tea.

"I love you too much to marry you, darling," Ashton replied as always. 

"Good thing I like my new stepdaddy," she told him, and he choked on his coffee. 

"So what did you guys talk about?" He asked when he'd recovered. 

"Mostly me, but also you. What do you want first, the details about him or what he asked about you?" Hima smirked at him, almost laughing when he glared at her. 

"I'll let you decide, how about that?" Ashton rummaged through the refrigerator before pulling out a loaf of bread. 

"Ooh snack time. When did you go to the market? I thought you opened for Rafi today. What are you gonna make for him?" She fired off, trying to crane her neck to see what he bought.

"Nope, you're gonna talk or you're not getting fed. I went before I went in at ten and I stayed till eight. I've barely got home, and I don't need your attitude, young lady. Now spill it," he told her as he pulled out a couple of onions and some gruyere cheese. 

"I love it when you're pissy. It looks so good on you. So I took him to Parvati's and ordered chana masala on roasted sweet potatoes. It was so good, I wish you liked Indian food more. We talked about my family, and how they're mostly engineers and lawyers but food was my passion. Confessed that when we first met, I had the biggest crush on you because you were so handsome." She giggled and made a show of fluttering her eyelashes at him. Ashton blushed and threw a caper at her. Hima swatted it back at him and kept talking. "Calum agreed you were handsome by the way. So I told him how you'd mentored me, and when you left the Hilton to open Anne-Marie's, you brought me with you. It was very heartwarming, and I promise I made you look good. He asked a few questions about you, but it was mostly professional stuff. What was it like working for you? What kind of collaborative effort went into the menu? Stuff like that," she shrugged watching Ashton heat up some soup as the sandwiches cooked. 

"Well, that's a lot of nothing. I thought you were better than that," Ashton said, pouting his lips at her. 

"I know he asked if you were single, but he was hella smooth about it. He asked what kind of gift he should bring tomorrow, whether it should be a bottle of wine or something you could share if you had a roommate. Don't worry, I let him know you were single, but I was cool about it," Hima grinned at her boss's discomfort. He cut the sandwich in half and poured a cup of soup to go with it. He cut some fresh chives to top off the soup along with some crème Fraiche and fresh cracked pepper. 

She stopped talking to enjoy the food. Ashton introduced her to cream of celery soup and it quickly became a favorite. The sandwich was beyond good yet incredibly simple: sauteed onions on a grilled cheese sandwich made with Ashton's homemade compound shallot-butter. 

"I'm disappointed, I thought you were better than that," Ashton raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not done, I'm just enjoying the food. My compliments to the chef." Hima ripped a piece of crust off her sandwich and dipped it in her soup. "I found out some things about Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome," she told him before running her tongue along the edge of the bread and then taking a bite. 

Ashton laughed and flipped her off. He had pastry cream cooking in a double boiler, so he was continuously stirring between bites. 

Watching him work, she never knew if she was completely in awe of him or a little in love with him, but probably both if she was honest with herself. She'd told Calum as much, off the record of course. It always amazed her how his large hands could be so nimble and quick with a knife, yet so delicate and careful when he was garnishing and plating. She'd told Calum how grateful she was that Ashton had given her such a huge opportunity without being patronizing or expecting her to touch his cock. 

People might think cooking would be a natural fit for a woman but professional kitchens were very much a man's world. You had to be physically and mentally tough. She was lucky that she'd gotten out the hotels before she'd been subjected to sexual harassment, but she'd seen enough. Ashton didn't tolerate any kind of physical or verbal harassment, but every cook could curse a blue streak and work through an injury. Most cooks wore their scars like battle wounds. Hima had a jagged thin white line trailing down her left forearm from a staple on a lettuce box that ripped her flesh open while putting away a truck. Ashton had a couple of red welts from the panini grill decorating his arms and a gnarly pink, puckered scar on his left wrist from an accident with molten sugar years ago.

"Ok so, he's a year and a half younger than you, turns 28 in January actually. Aquarius, so that should be fun. Never married, but he's got the kid," Hima informed him.

"That really came out of nowhere the other night. I never would've guessed that," Ashton said over his shoulder, turning his back on her to keep stirring. 

"It happened when he was in high school. His first girlfriend, their senior year of high school. They'd already been broken up for two months when they got the news, just when he'd started to figure out his sexuality. They tried to get back together for the sake of their daughter but quickly realized it wouldn't work in a traditional way. Now they're best friends and co-parents to Vanessa Joy. In fact, when Nicole married her boyfriend, Michael, two years ago Calum walked her down the aisle," Hima told him.

Ashton's jaw dropped. "What the hell, Hima? You guys had lunch one time and you know his life story." 

"My mother's interrogation skills rubbed off I guess. His daughter also happened to call while he was with me. It was so cute; she made the honor roll and he was so proud. He apologized for taking the call during lunch but said he always has to answer if it's his daughter or his mom." 

Ashton turned towards Hima, smiling and blushing, "I can respect that." 

"I'm sure you can, Mama's boy," she replied. "Honestly the two of you are adorable. A pair of smitten kittens. He kept asking questions about what it's like to work with you. What are you like as a boss? And every question he got this funny little smile and couldn't look at me. I really hate that you get the best looking guys. It's bad enough you look like that," Hima gestured at him as she looked him up and down. "First Luke, and now Calum, I'm so jealous. That being said I really hope you hook up with him. You could stand to get laid." 

"Watch it," he cautioned, not wanting to kill the mood.

"Sorry, but the other night y'all had some serious chemistry. You should go for it. Speaking of, I gotta go. Kabir is having a date night so I actually don't have to go home," she checked her phone, and Ashton didn't recognize the gaudy pink glitter case. 

She caught his puzzled expression and laughed, "My mom checks my location, so my iPhone and my car stay at Maisie's. Everything gets forwarded here, and I don't have to answer a million questions." 

"You're 24, how are you still dealing with this? When is your mother going to treat you like an adult?" Ashton shook his head, he never understood how she dealt with her family.

She sighed, "It's impossible to explain unless you have Asian parents. My mom grew up here, but my grandparents were still very much rooted in India. If you think my mom is difficult, you should've met grandma." A text came in, and she wrinkled her nose in annoyance reading it. "Why am I the only person who's punctual?" She muttered to herself before looking back at Ashton. "So what are you making tomorrow for the big date, I mean, interview? Mind if I smoke?" 

He shook his head and followed her onto the balcony. "Stop saying that, I'm nervous enough as it is. I'm starting with a wilted chard salad with figs and goat cheese, and maybe a soup. I haven't decided, but for the main, I'm making mushroom Wellington with my specialty Mac and cheese and whatever vegetables I pick up at the market tomorrow morning. I'm making a sorbet for dessert. I was going to make a pavlova, but I don't have the patience for merengue right now." 

"Calum doesn't stand a chance, he'll be thoroughly seduced. Then I'll get my magazine story and be a star. People will start asking me for photos on the street, they'll learn how to pronounce my name, and I'm only going by Hima. I think I can get away with just one name, like Madonna, Beyonce, and Cher. Don't you? I promise the fame won't go to my head. I'll still be Hima from the block." 

Ashton cracked up. "Ok there, Roxy Hart," he teased. "You are so extra, it's too much for an old gay like myself." 

"You're not even thirty," she protested. Another text came in and her eyes lit up. She stubbed her cigarette out on the bottom of her shoe before wiping it clean with a napkin and stuffed both in her purse to throw away outside. "You've just gotta get back on the horse, and Calum seems like the type who'd be into chaps and spurs." 

"Don't you have places to go, people to do?" He asked, walking her to the door.

"Sure do, good luck tomorrow," she kissed his cheek and was gone.

*********

Calum finished the dishes and popped another antacid in his mouth. Spicy food didn't used to give him heartburn. Getting old I guess. His dog, Brutus, danced around his feet begging for a treat. 

"Not gonna happen, old man," he bent down to scratch the pooch behind his ears, but Brutus immediately flipped over for a belly rub. "Greedy bastard," Calum chuckled but obliged with a ton down and chin scratches. He found a chew stick on the couch and tossed it over by the dog's bed, and soon Brutus was curled up contentedly gnawing himself to sleep. 

Calum watched his little guy for a bit before heading to his desk to type out a rough draft. Hima was a firecracker, full of energy and ideas, and hard to keep up with. She talked a mile a minute, often switching topics mid-thought as she spoke. He'd had his voice recorder on, but he liked to write his first draft from memory. He admired her passion for her work, and her determination to follow her own path. She was fiercely loyal to Ashton and grateful for the opportunity he'd given her. Calum would've suspected she was a bit smitten with her boss, but she openly admitted her crush. She was quick to insist Ashton had never encouraged or entertained the idea, but she didn't need to tell him that. 

Calum knew all about Ashton's history, the cheating, the fights, the messy breakup that brought the restaurant down. He exhaled, nervous about having that conversation. He shut his laptop, now too distracted to write. It's just an interview, calm down. He tried to be rational, but his thoughts kept drifting back to bumping into Ashton at the bar. The pink shirt, the star tattoo begging to be traced with his tongue, those hazel eyes that made his heart jump into his stomach. He tried to focus on his laptop. This article wasn't going to write itself. 

****

Ashton laid on his back, concentrating on his breathing as he pressed his knees to the floor in reclining bound angle pose. He'd had too much coffee, and although his body was tired, his mind was racing. His phone was vibrating on the dresser, but Ashton ignored it, moving into a butterfly pose and touching his forehead to the floor. He exhaled, trying to clear his mind. But all he could think about was Calum Hood. He had a brand new restaurant to run. Now was not a good time to become infatuated with a handsome reporter. So why haven't you stopped smiling all day?  

He breathed deeply, in, out, in, out. But he couldn't concentrate, couldn't calm down. He pushed himself off the floor and grabbed his water off the table. He opened his phone and was surprised to see a notification from the restaurant security system. 

Alarm deactivated at 12:02 AM 

Alarm Panel 2

Code: 4452

Ashton realized Hima was at the restaurant. He knew she usually went there after her accounting class but that definitely wasn't the case tonight. Probably popped in for a bottle of wine, which doesn't sound like a bad idea. 

The kitchen tiles were chilly beneath his bare feet as he headed towards the small wine fridge on his counter. Craving something sweet, he found a Shiraz he'd been saving and poured a small glass. He scrolled through Spotify, picking a playlist at random, and Robyn's  "Dancing on my Own" came over the speakers following him through the apartment back into his bedroom. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. 

He pulled his shirt off and turned around examining the freshly-healed Phoenix tattoo decorating his left side from his hip to the top of his ribs,  covering up the tattoo of Luke's name, birth date, and their wedding date. He trusted his tattoo artist and let him have creative freedom on the brightly-colored feathers and flames. It turned out beautifully. He turned sideways, rubbing his stomach and flexing in the mirror. He was in the best shape he'd been in since he was a teenager. Yoga kept him toned and lean so he was muscled without being bulky.

I'm giving it my all

But I'm not the girl you're taking home

He let the Swedish synth-pop beat take over, his hips swaying as he listened to lyrics about loneliness and feeling left out.

I keep dancing on my own

The irony wasn't lost on him as he kept dancing, moving away from the mirror. The next song was too slow so he quickly scrolled looking for something better. He clicked on Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know," and began to sing along. He saw that Hima hadn't left the restaurant and opened up the security camera feed on his phone to make sure she was ok. 

****

The more Calum stared at the screen the more his concentration drifted. He wondered if Ashton had a type. Cal knew he was decent looking, but he wasn't Luke Hemmings. He snorted at the thought of that simpering pretty boy. Luke was a spoiled child, soft and weak, thinking only of himself. I bet he's selfish in bed, probably a bossy bottom  He was surprised at the surge of jealousy he felt. Don't bring Finn into this. He rubbed his temples at the memory of finding out his then-boyfriend was cheating with Luke.

Finn was always looking for an opportunity, whatever would take him to the next level. His relationship of almost a year with Calum failed to get him noticed in the food press. Finn felt Ashton didn't give him enough credit at Lune Rouge and whined constantly about it. Cal was having his own career struggles at the time and personally thought Finn was acting like a spoiled brat instead of being grateful for the opportunity. They began to spend less time together after Calum's snarky review caused a huge blow up. So when Ashton and Luke's relationship began to fray, Finn had time to lend a sympathetic ear. Calum suspected Finn was cheating, but he bought into the “golden couple” bullshit so Luke never crossed his mind. Calum was shocked and gutted when he walked in on the two of them one afternoon. Finn was supposed to be out of town, and Calum popped by to check on his dogs. The sound of sex greeted him when he opened the door and he should have left right then. His curiosity got the better of him, and he walked towards the bedroom. Their moans masked the sound of his boots as someone had a very loud orgasm. Calum opened the door as they were falling away from each other. He walked in to find them panting for breath, sweaty and beautiful with the afterglow. Luke panicked and tried to hide himself, but Finn didn't flinch. 

"Well, I guess you know now," he said, smirking as his green eyes met Calum's. "If you're down for it, we've been talking about trying a third. You can top us both if you want." He shrugged and Calum physically felt the spell break. Looking back, he knew Finn broke his ego more than his heart. He'd been humiliated when it all came out, but he knew the affair had been worse for Ashton. He could tell Ashton was still damaged but definitely not broken. Wouldn't mind letting him break me, Calum thought, his mind wandering back to that unbuttoned pink shirt, Ashton's chest and neck begging to be marked up. I bet he likes it rough. 

Calum caught himself daydreaming again and blinked the half-filled word document back into focus. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a crush on someone, and he felt ridiculous. How am I gonna get through this interview?  It didn't help that Hima kept teasing him about it being a date. Calum's last date, with Nick the lawyer, had been a disaster. He'd ended up leaving after Nick disappeared on another phone call.

The truth was, he was excited about this interview and wished it really was a date. He'd scheduled a quick haircut and shave in the morning and carefully picked out an outfit. He figured his short-sleeve, red button-up paired with a black tank underneath would show off his arms while helping to hide his tummy pudge. He rubbed his stomach, still poking out from the leftover Indian food he'd finished off an hour ago, before letting his hand wander down and brushing his fingers across his cock and feeling it twitch in his basketball shorts. He wondered what Ashton would be wearing tomorrow. He pictured Ashton at the club, the ripped black jeans and the pink shirt unbuttoned enough to tease him. His dick twitched in his hand, waking up and demanding attention. 

****

Ashton gasped and almost dropped his phone at the sight of Hima standing in the break room in nothing but her bra and panties. He hadn't recovered from that shock when a male figure crawled into the frame. It took Ashton several seconds to realize the man was nude and covered in tattoos. The tattoos rang a bell, and he realized he was looking at Dakota, model/actor, Maisie's nephew, and a server at Anne Marie's. Dakota was a dark, brooding pretty boy with a perfect pink pout and tousled dark curls that he was always brushing out of his eyes. He was great at his job, but other than that he'd made no impression on Ashton, until now. Ashton watched the younger man on his knees in front of Hima as he sucked on her bright pink cock. What the fuck is happening?

Ashton blinked at his screen, still processing everything when Dakota stood up and bent over the table. Hima lined up behind him and thrust her hips against his ass. Ashton gulped for air and felt beads of sweat break out on his upper lip. He watched for a minute, hypnotized by Dakota writhing in pleasure, his black curls bouncing with every stroke, shoulders hunching over as he gripped the table. Ashton's mind flashed to Calum and what it would look like to have him bent over like that. He realized his dick was getting hard and quickly closed the app, feeling embarrassed for invading her privacy. He fumbled getting his phone into his pocket and accidentally skipped to the next song. "Anytime, Any Place," by Janet Jackson filled the room.  He laughed to himself at the sexy song and took another sip of wine. 

****

Calum squeezed himself through his clothes. He vaguely remembered Finn telling him Ashton was rumored to have a massive cock. He groaned at the thought of Ashton's hazel eyes looking down at him while he was on his knees. He imagined Ashton's cock brushing against his lips, teasing both of them. Calum groaned and gave up any pretense of trying to work. He stood up too quickly and knocked his chair over causing Brutus to wake from a dead sleep and start barking his head off. 

"It's ok, boy," Calum assured him, making sure he laid back down before going into his bedroom and shutting the door. Moments later he was stripped down to his boxers and shirt digging through his top dresser drawer until he found the small bag hiding under his socks. He pulled a bottle of lube and a small silicone sleeve out of the bag and walked back to the bed. He peeled off his shirt, kicked off his underwear and laid on his back on the bed. His cock was flat against his stomach, and as Calum reached for it he wondered what Ashton was doing right now.

****

Ashton felt the plug slip into his ass and shivered at the chill of the stainless steel. He wiped his hands off on a towel and walked out of the bathroom into his bedroom. The music was still playing. Janet's silky smooth voice gave way to Beyonce’s sultry vocals

Baby put your arms around me

Tell me I'm a problem

He walked back into his bedroom, feeling delicious shivers from the pressure on his prostate as he moved. The city lights illuminated the room from the open blinds on the balcony. 

Stop acting so scared, just do what I tell

First go through my legs, go back on your head

And whatever you want, yeah baby I'll bet it comes true

He reached down and squeezed his dick, rubbing his thumb over the tip down to the sensitive underside of the ridge. Pulling the shaft down and away from his body, pushing almost to the point of pain before easing up and giving it a nice slow stroke. He repeated the motion, each time pulling a little harder, edging a little closer to making it hurt, each time when he pulled back the relief was more intense. His fantasies were new visions: dark eyes and black curls still coming into focus in his mind's eye. He squeezed his muscles around the plug as he tapped the remote on the table next to him. The plug began to vibrate on the lowest speed and Ashton hissed at the sensation. He wondered if he'd let Calum fuck him.  Ashton didn't bottom very often. Luke didn't like to do the work, rarely agreed to switch up and whined whenever he did.  Calum looked like he could give as well as he got. 

***

Calum grunted as he pushed his cock, slick and shiny with lube, into the sleeve. His hips jerked upwards into the air as the countless smooth nubby fingers lining the inside of the toy closed around his swollen shaft, gripping and massaging the taut skin with every stroke. He screwed his eyes shut picturing Ashton on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest as he begged for him. Calum bit his lip to stifle a moan, slowing down his speed, not wanting to cum too fast. Hima told him Ashton called himself a “bendy boy” and had a strict yoga routine which just sent Calum's mind spinning, picturing trying different positions until Ashton was screaming for him. Calum moved his hand away, leaving the toy. The scenario in his mind began to switch up. The only thing Calum could think of hotter than fucking Ashton was getting railed by his massive cock. 

****

The combed cotton, high-thread-count pillowcase felt velvety soft and air-conditioned chilled when he bunched the pillow in his fists as he thrust his hips, burying his shaft in the soft folds. It felt amazing but was cold comfort when he was craving Calum's body heat. He turned the remote up a notch and adjusted the settings; a pulse pattern began throbbing against his core. He squeezed down on his dick even harder. He could feel the delicate feathers snapping under his fingers, but he didn't care. Ashton ached for release, longing to have Calum in his bed tonight. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive as his orgasm began to build. His hips pumped faster trying to match the pulsing rhythm inside him. He wanted Calum, with a craving he’d never felt before. Something in those dark eyes challenged Ashton. There was something about this mysterious reporter that he needed to discover. He was getting closer with every stroke, the fantasy switching to pounding Calum into the mattress, seeing how well he could throw it back. The image was too much and he shuddered, cursing out loud as his climax hit. His hips stuttered and his legs wobbled, forcing him to his knees. The vibrator extended his orgasm, milking him drop by drop as he whimpered and fumbled for the remote. When he finally turned it off, he rolled onto his back and tried to catch his breath, thankful he'd bought a nice fluffy rug to put next to his bed. .  

****

Calum flipped over onto his stomach, grinding down with his hips, the sleeve moving with the friction. He wondered if Ashton was vanilla or if he could get into Calum's slight pain kink. He'd looked for Ashton on FetLife to no avail, but he was fairly sure he'd found Hima so that was a surprise. Calum reached up and tugged his nipple hard as his hips rocked slowly. There was a power to Ashton. He had a dominant side which Calum had clearly seen in his dynamic with Luke, despite Ashton being smaller in size. Calum wanted to see how he'd take charge because he wasn't soft like Luke, but he had no doubt Ashton could handle him. Calum raised himself up on his forearms, pumping his hips furiously. He thought about those arms wrapped around his neck, his teeth grazing Ashton's blood moon tattoos as he bent Cal over and took him hard and fast. He whimpered, biting the pillow, his rhythm starting to stutter as he thought about Ashton looking up at him, eyes wide with Calum's hand at his throat as they reached their high together. Calum was just at the edge when he quickly rolled over, removing the toy and ruining his orgasm. He gasped, his whole body shaking as his release spilled onto his belly. After a moment he reached down, using the sleeve to tease the tip through the aftershocks until it became too sensitive to touch. He was hungry again, so he grabbed a Kleenex and wiped himself off as best he could before walking, still naked, back through his house to turn on the oven. Pizza was always a good snack after sex, and he had an article to work on.

@sublimehood​​ @tea4sykes​​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​ @scribblesos​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​ @wildmichaelflower​​ @castaway-cashton​​ @damselindistressanu​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @cashtonasfuck​ @irwinkitten​ @mermaidcashton​​ @malumsmermaid​​

#calum hood #ashton irwin #cashton #cashton smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #cashton slash #5sos #5sos smut

[lostinmirkwood]

Gendrya Kinktober Day 24- First Time

Find it on AO3 here.

It takes six months after they run into each other as adults for them to go on their first date. Arya had moved to Storm’s End after she’d finished her Economics degree in the Riverlands and had run into Gendry completely by accident at the public library on a rare sunny Saturday. They’d grabbed coffee to catch up, having not seen each other since Gendry helped her move out of her dorm after her first year of school nearly four years previously. Arya left him with her number but it wasn’t until they’d run into each other a few more times before Gendry finally began to text her. When Arya suggested grabbing drinks at a pub near both their offices he agreed and drinks turned into dinner, turned into him walking her to the train, shoulders brushing, far too late to be out on a work night. Neither of them realized the time until their waitress had stopped by their table to close their tab so she could head home for the night.

Their second date is much more intentional, Gendry takes her to the arthouse theater when he sees they’re screening her favorite movie, The Legend of High Heart, as part of their Autumn Festival. Afterwards they get a late dinner at a Braavosi restaurant near the water that Arya had suggested. This time Gendry takes her hand as they walk to the nearest station and gives her a kiss on the cheek when they go their separate ways.

It’s a few weeks before they can go on their third date, both of their jobs getting in the way. Arya texts him early on a Sunday and they meet at the farmer’s market downtown. They end up spending the entire day together having a picnic lunch from their market spoils, playing games in the arcade on the pier at Shipbreaker Bay, holding hands and wandering the city sharing bits about themselves as the sun slowly sunk in the west. Arya offers to cook them both dinner at her apartment if they can make a quick stop at a grocery store and Gendry accepts, not wanting to end the perfect day they’ve had. Arya picks up everything she needs for a quick and delicious pasta dish and when they arrive at her place she puts Gendry to work as her sous chef, having him prepare a salad and slice a nice loaf of bread from the market. She pours wine and over dinner they continue to share stories.

When the topic turns to how he found architecture Gendry hesitates for a moment before telling her the story was tied up in his family, “Mum died when I was 14 and it had always just been the two of us. I was angry for a long while and bounced between several foster homes for a year before the Seaworths took me in. They had seven boys and it was a bit of an adjustment to go from being alone to always having people around, people who cared. I stayed with them until I aged out of the system, they were my first real family after I’d lost my mum. When I was seventeen I was contacted by a lawyer. Turns out my father always knew who I was but never lifted a finger to help while he was alive, even after I was placed in the system. He’d recently passed and to spite his ex-wife had left me and his four other bastards a chunk of inheritance, on the condition we took his last name. I wanted to refuse outright, because fuck him, but Davos convinced me to cool off and think about it for a few days before I made any final decision. I hated the thought of taking anything from that deadbeat prick but I had my heart set on architecture. The day after the lawyer contacted me I received early acceptance to one of the top design schools in Westeros and there was no way in the seven hells I could afford it. The inheritance dropped that opportunity in my lap. So I kept Waters as my middle name and took Baratheon as my last name. I’d paid for so much in my life that the dead bastard owed me that much. And now I have even more siblings than you, Arry.”

Arya can tell he feels a little uncomfortable having just spilled his life’s story to her, so she smiles at him, tops off his wine glass, and changes the subject to an upcoming footie match between Winterfell and Storm’s End. The mood lightens as they begin to passionately debate their opposing sides and Gendry tells her to come to his place the next weekend to watch the match. Their night ends earlier than either of them would like but they both have work in the morning and Gendry feels a bit emotionally wrung out after their dinner conversation.

--

They spend the week leading up to the match texting constantly, even managing to sneak away from their offices to meet for lunch on Wednesday. Arya offers to walk with him back to his office as they’d lingered over the last few chips on their plates for far too long and he eagerly accepts, grabbing her hand as they step out onto the busy sidewalk to walk the few blocks to his building. Standing near the door Gendry goes to kiss her cheek again, right as Arya turns to do the same. Their lips meet at a slightly awkward angle and they both pull back startled.

“Oh, uh,” Arya stutters out, blushing. Gendry’s not much better, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at his shoes.

Arya takes a deep breath, “Try again?”

Gendry’s head darts up, eyes meeting hers as she smiles. One of his hands comes up to cup her cheek as he leans down to press a true kiss to her lips. It feels electric, lasting both forever and just an instant. Their eyes flutter open (when had they closed?), and Gendry has to step back towards the door to his building or he will never leave, saying, “See you Saturday?”

Arya nods, still blushing. Her eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, looking thunderstruck before she gives him a brilliant smile and heads into the midday crowd to return to work. When he gets back to his desk his phone chimes

Arya (1:02pm): We should definitely do that again

Gendry grins to himself, and sends her a reply.

Gendry (1:02pm): Lunch or the other thing?

Arya (1:03pm): Both, but I really liked the other thing.

---

The rest of the work week seems to drag on. Their texts have taken on a flirty tone that makes anticipation lick at Gendry’s spine, though he’s not sure for what. Saturday finally dawns cool and rainy, unsurprising in the Stormlands no matter how nice the weather had been all week. He spends the morning cleaning his apartment, something he does every Saturday anyway but today’s has a bit more vigor behind it, wanting to impress. Arya arrives just before the match starts rain splattered and grinning, waving a six pack of Northern beer in support of her side.

She gives him a lingering kiss on his jaw, breathing in the smell of his soap and skin, butterflies churning in her stomach as he wraps his arms around her for a long moment before taking her coat and hanging it next to his on a hook rail near the door. Noticing his socked feet she slides her own shoes off next before setting her bag down and following Gendry into his kitchen. He waves her towards the living room, taking the beer from her to stick in the fridge, telling her to make herself comfortable. She eagerly accepts the opened beer from him as he moves to plop next to her on the couch, his arm thrown across the back of it just above her shoulders.

Neither of them could tell you much about the match, both keenly aware of the other’s proximity. Every small move is catalogued, each brush of their bodies analyzed. Sometime in the third quarter Arya’s hand had settled on Gendry’s thigh and his breath had stopped entirely for a moment. When Gendry’s arm had migrated from the back of the couch to gently playing with a loose strand of hair on her shoulder she froze before melting softly against him. Their eyes had caught as the game went into extra time and the next thing Gendry knows Arya’s muttering, “Fuck it,” and swinging her leg over his to settle onto his lap. She gives him a moment to process her new position before her lips descend to his in an earth shattering kiss.

He sits dumbstruck for a moment too long and she pulls back, worried she’s misread and pushed him into something he wasn’t interested in. He gives a low whine as her lips leave his, his brain finally coming back online. His hands reach up to tangle in her hair and tug her mouth back to his, giving her plump lower lip a nip with his teeth as he starts to kiss her again. Her tongue slips into his mouth when one of his hands drops from her hair to her waist, tugging her closer. Arya gasps at the feel of him hard through both their jeans, grinding down against him as her hands scrabble down his firm chest searching for the hem of his shirt. Finding it she runs her hands across his stomach and scratches her nails up, drawing a groan from him as he moves to help her take his shirt off. Arya pulls back for a moment to admire the sight of him below her. His hair is in disarray, blue eyes dark, breath heaving as her nails leave slight red trails through the smattering of hair of his bared chest. It’s a good look for him, she thinks.

Gendry’s hands find the hem of her sweater and he looks up at her in question. Arya nods rapidly, helping him pull it off her, revealing her lacy bralette. The sight of her nipples hard through the black lace makes his mouth water as he begins to kiss down her neck and across her chest, hands reaching up to palm her tits through the thin fabric. His lips close over one of her pearled nipples, gently nipping and sucking, his warm breath fanning across her chest. Arya moans quietly, her own hands moving to shrug her bra down off her shoulders to reveal her rosy pink peaks to him. His blue eyes meet hers as his fingers reach to begin to tug and roll the exposed buds, Arya’s eyes fluttering closed as his mouth returns to work and her hands bury themselves in his hair to hold him close. Her hips roll with more force, chasing the building fire between them. Suddenly Gendry’s hands leave her chest and grip her waist as he stands from the couch. Arya yelps and wraps her legs around him as he walks them through his apartment to his bedroom door. He nudges the door open with his foot and steps across the room to his bed, dropping her on the mattress.

Arya stares up at him from his rumpled sheets, enjoying the picture he made standing at the edge of the large bed shirtless and breathing hard. He plants one knee on the bed next to her and leans over her, catching her eye and softly asking, “Is this okay?”

Arya nods, “Yes, yes. So okay.”

Gendry gives her a brilliant smile and dips to kiss her as Arya moves to sit up and do the same. Their foreheads bump as they move, causing them to draw back with an “ow!” before they both laugh and Arya holds still for Gendry to kiss her again. Successful this time they continue to make out, hands wandering. Arya runs a hand down his impressive back, dipping into the back of his jeans to squeeze his arse. She cocks an eyebrow at him and grins when he pulls back, “I’ve wanted to do that since you turned and walked away from me the first time. You’ve got an amazing arse, Gendry.”

Gendry flushes for a moment before running his hands down to her waistband, flicking open the button of her jeans, “Can I?”

Arya nods and he begins to work the tight denim off her legs. Once bare he stands at the edge of the bed again and admires her. It’s Arya’s turn to blush, “Sorry.”

“What on earth are you sorry for?” He’s confused, she’s almost naked and absolutely beautiful sprawled out before him.

“I wasn’t expecting this, otherwise I’d have worn sexier underwear,” she stares down at her plain black cotton panties, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She’d put on the lacy bralette thinking they’d maybe neck on the couch a bit and he’d see that. She didn’t want to get her hopes up that they’d get this far and then have him think she’s slutty by wearing lacy underwear too. It’s a confusing feeling, both wishing she’d look sexy now that she’s almost naked in front of him but not wanting him to think she was expecting and wanting sex by wearing it.

Gendry shakes his head, freeing her lip with his thumb, “You look so fucking beautiful. You don’t ever have to apologize for what you’re wearing to me. Do you want to go further? Because we can stop right now if you don’t want to and it won’t change anything.”

Arya looks him over, his obvious erection straining his jeans. His bare chest is practically glowing in the evening light streaming through his bedroom window. And he’s looking down at her with nothing but affection and desire, no trace of judgement at her clothing choices. She nods and smiles, “Yes, I want you. Take your pants off? I’m feeling a little exposed.”

Gendry grins at her, his hands dropping to his fly. He’s a little distracted by her in the golden light and he’s hard as diamonds in his jeans. Quick as he can he shucks both his pants and boxers, which seems like a great plan until one of his ankles gets stuck and he nearly tumbles on the bed next to her naked as his nameday trying to free himself. His clothing blunder eases the slight awkwardness she’d felt at her insecurity and they both lay next to each other giggling. Gendry’s chuckle turns to a gasping moan when Arya’s hand finds its way around his raging cock, grasping and giving it a few firm strokes. She grins at him as she strokes again, his hips pressing towards her. It’s her turn to moan when he rolls over her, caging her in his arms as one of his hands delves into her underwear, seeking her out. He pets his fingers through her damp curls, dipping into her center before moving to her clit. Finding the hard bud he meets her eyes as he starts to circle. It feels good as Arya snakes one of her hands down covering his. She slips her fingers around his and begins to guide them, adjusting the pressure and motion until he catches on to how she likes to be touched. She pulls back as she begins to writhe, enjoying the smile on his face as he brings her pleasure. She comes with a gasp when he dips a finger into her as he continues to work her clit.

Gendry sits back with a pleased look, bringing his damp finger to his mouth to taste her. He moans as her salty sweet flavor bursts across his tongue. Arya’s eyes darken and she scrambles out of her underwear, wanting him inside her now. Finally naked she tugs his arm, asking, “Condom?” as she pulls him over her.

Gendry nods and leans over to dig through his nightstand, pulling a foil wrapper free from the drawer. Her eyes follow his movements as he opens the packet and rolls the rubber over his impressive erection. A small worry niggles in the back of her mind. He’s a very large man and she’s rather small. Gendry must catch a change in her expression when he finishes wrapping himself. “Still sure?” he asks, softly.

“Yeah, you’re just much bigger than… others.”

He smiles, but it’s not cocky despite how much it deserves to be, “Don’t worry, we’ll go slow.”

Arya smiles back. She doesn’t have a wealth of experience but she trusts him. He’s already taken instruction well and has continually checked in with her. She believes he’ll take care of her.

It takes a bit of fumbling for them to get him lined up correctly but when he begins to slide in Arya gasps. The stretch of him feels delicious. He pulls back a little and rocks in further. He keeps up the gentle rocking until he’s fully seated then stops. Arya’s face is scrunched and he’s worried he’s hurting her until her expression eases.

“So full,” she mumbles, “you can move, you feel so good.”

Gendry begins to thrust, keeping his pace slow and steady. She feels incredible around him, the hot clutch of her center dragging him to the edge much faster than he’d anticipated. Arya feels warm and loose as

#gendrya kinktober #day 24 first time #gendrya #arya stark #gendry waters #gendrya fanfic #my writing #first time with each other