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wileys-russo · 7 months

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childhood sweethearts (1) II a.russo x reader

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this is part one to a lil multi part fic i've been working on, sequels and prequels to come

childhood sweethearts II a.russo x reader

"and you promise you'll not burn yourself out again right darling?" you sighed at the obvious concern present in your mums voice on the other end of the phone line. "yes mother i've learnt and i've grown and i'm doing all the self care things!" you cheered sarcastically, switching to hands free as you moved to stir your dinner.

"ha ha ha. i think you forget that i still know where you live and i have no issues just popping in every now and then to check on-" the older woman began to threaten as your eyes widenened.

"okay okay there's no need for that mum! i'm doing well, i promise." you responded a lot more sincerely as the woman on the other end simply hummed. "this school and my workload is a lot less intense, really! my colleagues are very friendly, my boss is approachable and i love my class. better?" you sighed as you switched off your stove and began to dish yourself up a bowl.

"and it's brought you back closer to home, my favourite part!" your mum cheered as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"yes it has however i maintain that i have boundaries mum. you, lily and harry are only welcome to visit with an invitation." you warned, half serious and half joking as you grabbed your phone and moved to the living room, sinking down into the sofa.

"yes you made that very clear, feeling very loved darling." "you know i love you ever so dearly mum but i also love my own space."

"oh god i almost forgot. you'll never guess who i ran into the other day!" your mum suddenly gasped making you chuckle, if you'd even tried guessing you could have been stuck on the phone with her for hours, your mothers social circle seemingly never ending.

it used to be a point of contention for you in your youth, hating the way you were seemingly forever pulled away to dinners or parties or barbeques, having to beg your parents to leave once it grew late in the night and your social battery had long hit its max.

as your siblings grew older they were always excused from going to these elaborate social events and you'd beg to be given that same privilege but as the youngest that was one thing you coudn't talk your way out of.

though once your dad passed you watched that break her down to nothing, seemingly just a shell of the woman she once was when he was alive and all was well.

but with time you grew to watch your mother pick herself back up slowly and start to rebuild her own support net. recconecting with her inner circle after isolating herself from the outside world for so long, it warmed your heart and was something you would forever encourage for her.

knowing that the older woman would always thrive and be at her best as a social butterfly and the hostess with the mostess, it had helped her to heal.

"if i guessed we could be here for hours and i have an island full of gorgeous single airheads and a bowl of pasta calling my name, so who did you run into?" you chuckled, shoveling in a mouthful of food as you awaited her answer.

"carol russo!" you choked at her words, spitting out the pasta you'd half chewed and breaking out into a coughing fit, scrambling for the glass of water on the coffee table.

"oh honestly i wish you'd learn to chew before you swallow, the food isn't going to disappear!" your mum scolded you as you finally caught your breath again.

"oh i'm grand mum, thank you for your concern!"

"anyway. well i've not seen her for years as you'd know and then there i was just browsing the strawberries, i needed some for a new crumble recipe i'm trying, and there she was, just grabbing a bunch of carrots!" you had to withhhold the urge to laugh at the way your mother told stories and just how animated she'd become, so fixated on the small details as she basically told you their entire conversation and coincidentally revealed her entire shopping list as she went.

"so we're all going out for a meal on thursday to catch up properly." you hummed, only half listening at this point. "that sounds nice." you mumbled, flicking through the tv.

"so you'll be there then? i said half past six since i know you're normally home from work around five." now that had you tuning back in. "wait, you what?" you directed your full attention back to the conversation.

"dinner with the russo's. half past six at paradiso, your brother and sister already said yes." your mum repeated as your stomach dropped and you fell silent. "darling did you hear me?"

"yeah i did. but look mum i have lesson planning to do and that's a school night and-" "oh y/n please! carol made such a point to ask how you've been and how much she'd love to see you. i know you and lessi drifted apart but you're both adults now darling i'm sure you can find some common ground, and the two of you used to be inseparable."

and there it was.

you could have just maybe deluded yourself into thinking that there was a slight chance the youngest russo wouldn't be present, perhaps you'd get lucky and she would be too busy off being a european football superstar.

but now you knew she'd be there the pit of worry and dread forming in your stomach only widened, quickly going from a small hole to a gaping chasm as the nerves already settled in at the thought of speaking with her after so many years apart.

"actually no you know what darling i don't care if you're an adult now, you're going. no arguments!" your mum decided, hastily excusing herself and stating she couldn't wait to see you, ending the call before you could utter another word.

"oh god, get it together! they're just regular people and its just one dinner." you mumbled to yourself with a shake of your head as you fixed your hair in your rear view mirror for the fifth time, sinking into your seat with a long exhale.

you jumped and let out a yell of shock as someones knuckles rapped against your window, an all too familiar toothy grin shining down at you as you grabbed your bag and popped open your door.

"shortstack!" giorgio cheered, surprising you as he scooped you up into a bearhug. "well, maybe not so much anymore." he placed you back down as he looked you up and down with a beaming smile.

"hi gio." you laughed fondly, hugging him again as he squeezed you, having been just like another brother to you as you'd grown up, it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"still shorter than me though, and definitely shorter than lessi." the boy teased as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you as the realization once again sank in you'd be seeing her again after all these years.

"so its been years, how have you been?" the italian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you briefly caught him up on what you were doing now as he did the same, the two of you wandering into the familiar restaurant.

"hasn't changed eh?" he chuckled as the both of you looked around, fondly recalling memories of all the dinners your combined families would have here throughout your childhood, the same owners still preserving its legacy and charm years and years later.

"hey, i was really sorry to learn about your dad. he was a good man, one of the best." the boy gently grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side a little, genuine sorrow in his eyes at the words as your lips pressed together and you nodded.

pity, you hated pity.

"thanks gio." you squeezed his shoulder with a small smile as the two of you resumed your chatter and you spotted the rest of your families already gathered together at a large table up the back, the same table you'd always sat at.

it seemed the two of you were the last to arrive as cheers erupted and you both made your rounds saying hello, without even needing to look to your right you could feel a certain blondes eyes burning holes in the side of your head, but you weren't quite ready to accept that just yet.

"sweetheart look at you! absolutely beautiful." carol beamed, pulling you into a very tight hug after you'd finished once again being lifted into the air both by mario and luca, seemingly an italian tradition as thats how it had always been for you with the men of the russo household.

"its so lovely to see you again carol, mum was delighted to have bumped into you, i know she's missed you since it all happened." you admitted softly, the older woman nodding in understanding and rubbing your back comfortingly.

though the gesture was not anything new it did send your heart racing, as you knew another russo who was fond of that exact same thing and at the seemingly simply action a million memories came crashing down onto you and your knees buckled slightly.

doing your best to shake them off you greeted your own siblings and mum, and then without anyone else to use as a buffer you found yourself having to take a seat, and of course the only seat free would be next to her.

your stomach dropped as finally you had no choice but to look at her, the girl thankfully caught up in conversation with your sister sitting across from her you found her eyes no longer gazed back at you.

it presented you with a small fleeting moment to actually take her in.

long gone was the grubby ten year old brunette who would tackle you to the ground and sit on you to paint your face with mud after she'd spent the afternoon kicking footballs at your head, now sat before you was a woman.

you knew she'd forgone her natural hair colour for the bottle blonde, in fact you'd been the very first person she told the moment she even started to consider it. you'd gone with her to the salon for her appointment, showering her with praise at her new cut and colour which she'd clearly stuck with over the years.

gone was the baby fat which once rounded out her face, her features though still soft had become more defined over time, and you couldn't help but allow your eyes the luxury of roaming her incredibly toned arms which sat on full display, likely attributed to the hours she dedicated to training every day.

she had always been strong physically, easily able to overpower you during countless wrestling matches in your early youth, or pinning you down on her bed to steal the breath from your very lungs with a searing kiss in your teenage years, forever teasing you to no end at all the ways she bettered you in strength.

sat with one leg crossed over the other you marvelled at the tight fitting dress which adorned the curvature of her body, another thing that grubby ten year old alessia would have scoffed at, forever foregoing fancy dress ups and heels for football boots and a tattered hand me down manchester united jersey.

of course over the years you'd grown up together there was changes within you both, the biggest of everything being the fact you realized you loved one another in a way best friends shouldn't, thinking about one another the way the rest of your friends spoke about liking boys.

it was how the two of you had wound up being one anothers first everything, though that was a secret reserved only for the two of you to share, and one that would take much more time than a quick dinner for you to really unpack.

so swallowing down the hard lump in your throat at the cascading emotions washing over you, you screamed at your legs to move and cleared the distance between you and her, your sisters eyes flickering toward you alerting alessia the chair beside her would no longer be vacant.

sneaking a glance up toward you she had to stop herself from gasping. much like your own observations, to alessia gone was the shy smiley ten year old she'd chased around her backyard every afternoon and sat giggling for hours with tucked away in pillow forts on rainy days, replaced instead with a well spoken and quite frankly drop dead gorgeous woman looking to her expectantly.

alessia quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the obnoxious scrape of her chair against the hard wood floor, the two of you sizing one another up clearly unsure how to proceed.

"hi." you started softly, alessia swooning at the dimples which hadn't left you over the years, your nose still scrunching slightly as it always had when you smiled.

"hey." the striker managed to force out with her own nervous smile, the two of you hesitating for a moment, clearly both ticking over if a hug was the next most appropriate step.

though right as alessia began to move closer, arms ready to envelop your shorter form, it seemed the decision had been made for both of you as servers arrived.

handing out menus and starting to take drink orders meant the two of you dropped down into your seats, refusing to look one another in the eye as you spoke to everyone and anyone but each other.

alessia ordering a glass of white wine with a grateful smile her ears perked up and a slight frown appeared on her face as you murmured to the man you were content to stick with water.

"let me guess, no drinking on a school night?" your older sister lily had mocked with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes at her over the lip of your glass.

"oh yes your mum was telling me you're teaching now! and you've just gotten back from working abroad?" carol tuned in at that point, seated beside your sister as you nodded.

"yeah i was in australia for two years teaching, i actually only got back a few weeks ago and started a position here in a local school." you confirmed with a smile, alessia glancing toward you with a look of surprise at the new information.

“oh that’s just wonderful, I can see you’d be the most amazing teacher. what age?” carol complimented sincerely as you sent her a grateful smile, you’d definitely found the right work for you and you adored your job so you always appreciated when it was picked up on by others.

“I was teaching grade five in australia but my class here now are only second years which is a bit of a change.” you answered with a chuckle, it had definitely been an adjustment but you honestly preferred it to how things had been overseas.

"got over your fear of planes then if you made it in one piece to australia?" luca chimed in with a wink as you waved him off, having always had a paraylsing fear of aircraft it had taken a lot for you to board that final plane away from everything you knew.

but with a new adventure awaiting and having done about as much preparation as one girl could do, once you were in the air it relieved you to know it actually wasn't all that bad.

"lessi just got back from australia, well we all did actually what a place it is. and what a shame we didn't know you were living there at the time!" mario added with a regretful smile before returning to his conversation with your brother.

"yes i was sorry to see how that ended for you lessi, you played brilliantly though! lil and i watched most of the games, footy for breakfast." your mum beamed, alessia unable to not share a grin with the woman, her happiness always having been infectious just as yours was, it wasn't hard to see where you got it from.

"y/n was at the semi finals too, in person." your brother harry chimed in as your face paled, having hoped this wouldn't come up as you felt ocean blue eyes pierce into the side of your head. "you were?" alessia's voice was soft and laced with surprise, and you were sure you were the only one who had heard her as you nodded.

"our school was given a handful of tickets by one of the parents who sits on the FA board, so i went with a few other teachers. the only english woman among a huddle of australians i wasn't the most popular on the train ride home or at work that next day!" you joked, cheeks flushed slightly red at all the eyes on you, grateful once the conversation seemed to shift to another topic.

but alessia wasn't quite finished with it yet.

"i wish i'd known you were there." the blonde admitted quietly, sparing a glance toward you as you stiffened. "you scored the winner, i didn't miss that." you replied softly, messing about with your fingers and staring down at the table as alessia's wine arrived.

she downed it in one go, tapping the server and murmuring for another as he nodded and took her glass away, the blondes head buzzing with the much needed liquid confidence.

"did your friends need to explain the rules to you?" alessia smiled, her tone now much lighter as you shared a look, own lips curling upwards at what she was insinuating.

"mostly just how offside works and what the hell VAR was." you joked, seemingly relaxing a little more in your chair as alessia did the same. "i see your ever growing passion for football hasn't changed then." the older girl teased sarcastically, ring clad fingers drumming against the table.

despite it being her one true love you couldn't have cared less about the sport, the only reason you feigned any interest was not to upset her or have her feel unsupported, and so you allowed her to teach you the rules of the sport so you would appreciate every game you sat at to watch her play, and you hardly ever missed a single one.

though that also never ever stopped her from forcing you to stand between the posts as she and her brothers fired shot after shot at you.

you’d often run off after a few minutes of being hammered and your best friend would chase you down, dragging you back to the goal and demanding you try to stop at least one of her shots and she would switch with you and let you kick at her instead.

it was safe to say you never did manage to get a turn at playing striker.

"could say the same for you, champion of europe now isn't it? bit of a step up from winner of the backyard round robins one on one with your brothers." your shoulder nudged into hers slightly, setting alessias entire body on fire just from the marginal contact, something she'd not felt in years.

"seems we have a lot to catch up on then." alessia smiled, your stomach erupting into butterflies at the slight rasp of her voice, scolding yourself for such feelings as you settled again.

"well six years is quite a long time."

though alessia was hyper aware of all of the physical changes within you, it warmed her to see there were still some things which stuck around all the same over the time you'd spent apart.

"some things don't change do they." the blonde murmured with an amused smile seeing you pick out every single tomato from your side salad, subtly moving them to an awaiting napkin as you blushed having been caught out.

growing up you’d always do the same, normally not much of a picky eater but what you didn’t like you didn’t like. thankfully for you though the blonde beside you ate like a hoover growing up with how much physical energy she exerted daily, especially in her early teen years. and would always take whatever you didn’t want, making sure her mum never noticed as you were determined not to have her think you didn’t like anything she prepared for you.

"here." alessia chuckled, reaching out to grab the small handful of tomato’s you'd collected and depositing them on her own plate, in turn dropping a few of her roast potatos onto your own in a silent exchange, shutting down your protests with a firm look.

"thanks." you smiled gratefully, conversation turning toward alessia now as everyone picked at their food. "so arsenal then less? big shift from you as a die hard united fan." your brother joked though knowing the girl as you did you didn't miss the way a small frown of discomfort flickered across her face.

but as soon as it was there it had disappeared again and she was chattering away about how happy she was with her new club, and admittedly you tuned out a little bit as your mind wandered to your lesson planning for tomorrow.

"hm?" you hummed as you heard your name, shooting back down to earth and rejoining the conversation. "head in the clouds still sweetheart!" carol teased as you laughed nervously, apologizing for your lack of focus and asking your mum to repeat herself.

"we were just saying that lessi's new place is quite close to yours." the older woman smiled with a look in her eye you didn’t like, sipping at her wine as you forced a smile. "oh is it? thats nice." you nodded, looking anywhere than at alessia who you knew was waiting for you to say something more.

though when you didn't the conversation turned once again and you exhaled slightly, however of course the conversation had shifted to what you and alessia were like as children, your mums swapping story after story which frankly sent your head into a spin.

you abruptly stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you started to feel a little overwhelmed, alessia's eyes following yours with a concerned frown. "go make sure she's okay lessi." her mum ordered, shooting down her protests with a stern look and shooing her away as the blonde sighed and got to her feet, following after you.

she hesitated on the handle for the bathroom, she was almost certain she'd had a hand in why you left the table in the first place so would her coming to check in on you even really help anything?

she mulled it over for a moment, hand still on the handle before she shook her head, deciding against it and taking a step away. though no sooner had she made up her mind was it changed for her as the door opened and you'd come striding out, smacking into the blonde whose hands grabbed at you.

though with her notoriously clumsy nature she found her footing slipped and she was sent tumbling to the floor, accidentally taking you down with her as your bum smacked against the concrete with a wince.

"fuck, i'm so sorry." alessia blurted out as her face burnt red in embarrassment, hurrying to her feet and offering you a hand up. "it's fine." you smiled politely, the blonde frowning at just how quickly you dropped her hand once you were back on your feet, attempting to step around her to return to the table.

"wait." her strong hands landed on your hips, spinning you around as your eyes widened and alessia realized her mistake, hastily snatching away her hands and stepping back, mumbling an apology.

"you said to wait?" you reminded, eyebrow raised clearly giving her the opportunity to say whatever she had intended. "oh. can we get a coffee sometime? to catch up." alessia forced out, grateful for the few glasses of wine in her system that allowed her to swallow the nerves which threatened to drown her.

"alessia-" you started and the striker could tell right away from your tone and furrowed eyebrows that you were angling for a no. she had to swallow her wounded pride at the realisation you were also the only one at the entire table who'd not called her a single nickname all night, and if she was honest you were really the only one who she wanted to.

"please." the blonde almost begged, her hand reaching out for yours again but pausing midway as you ever so slightly retreated, fingers falling dejectedly back to her side as you sighed.

"alessia i really don't know if-"

"we were best friends for a lot longer than anything else went on. i want to hear about what you've been up to, properly. not just a few awkward sentences at a dinner you clearly don't even want to be at."

you hated her for how well she knew you and could clearly still read you like a book, despite the length of time it had been since she'd even seen picked up and glanced at the cover.

"i've missed you."

and there it was, the three word confession seemingly innocent however it was enough to drive a metal spike right through your insides, and had you wishing you could curl into a ball and be swallowed up by the floor right about now.

"please? it would just be two old friends getting a coffee, catching each other up about the last six years of their lives. completely normal!" alessia tried again this time with a joking smile, desperately trying to ease the fast mounting tension arising between the two of you.

you had to respect her efforts, the taller girl rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously, hands rubbing at the material of her dress desperate to try and wipe them dry, her skin soft and clammy at the sight of you in front of her again after so long.

"okay."

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part two

#alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso imagine #engwnt #woso #woso fanfics

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flowermiist · 3 months

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A warm heart - I

Click here to read the prologue if you haven’t ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn't something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you'd stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: I would like to start off by saying thank you for all the kind comments, likes and reblogs the prologue has gotten. I was going to make this chaper longer but wanted to leave some intrigue. I’m currently working on the second chapter as I post this. Again, thank you so so much. Don’t forget to like, reblog and comment please. ♡

“Didn’t know you were that much into cooking, cap.” Garrick says, hiding a smirk and almost teasing as he sits across the captain who simply gives him a small cranky huff and his tired eyes stick back to the screen of his phone with the video playing.

Only one of the wired earbuds is connected to his ear as he watches every single detail almost carefully –

“Improving my cooking skills, somethin’ the lot of you should start doing.”

It was by far clear that John wasn’t in the best of moods after a stressing mission, his voice much hoarser and raspier than usual – the scent of the cheap cigar he had gotten from a gas station fills the tent as Mactavish sleeps with arms crossed, his head hanging low and Simon keeps guard – his eyes moving towards the conversation from time to time.

“Been trying to get the hang of it…” He speaks again with a sigh and an attempt not to be too grumpy, trying to remain as composed as he can while wiping off the sweat from his forehead, the lines on his rough skin becoming accentuated as he slightly frowns.

“And how’s it going?” Gaz asks with more curiosity now, looking at his captain and placing his elbows on the wooden table.

“Good, ’s far as I can tell.” Is all John responds, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he tries to sink deeper into the folding wooden chair tapping his cigar against the makeshift ashtray (which was simply an empty can of tuna) as the already weak string of smoke dies away.

You quickly scramble out of the bathroom, uniform already displayed on your bed. Stopping in right front of your vanity and placing a hand against the wall as you lean closer to the mirror to get a better look, trying to be as careful as possible not to mess up your lipstick – the moment you can’t find your shoes, you just get more irritated and the irritation mixing with yesterday’s hangover is not a pretty feeling, especially at this time of day.

You know you no longer have time to find your comfortable shoes the moment you look at the watch on your left wrist so you move towards your closet and take out a pair of nude stiletto heels, not the most convenient or comfortable ones but better than going barefoot to work or using one of your “I’m only here at the club to dance and get laid tonight.” pumps.

The moment you step into your car and try to start the engine, it makes that funny noise you hate but know too well to ignore.

“C’mon… let’s not embarrass ourselves, will you stop acting up before a neighbor notices and calls me broke?” You mumble to your own car like a crazy woman as the engine struggles to start.

Three days, three whole damned days since the engine of your car has been struggling to start and has started getting on your nerves – you tried to contact Harrison, your mechanic and the asshole has been completely ignoring your calls, he not only overpriced every little thing he did to your car but also thought you were some sort of stupid woman who didn’t know anything about your own car.

Sure, you could just drive to his garage and tell him the problem right away, but you were loaded with work these days and this man’s policy was to book in through a phone call to get your call fixed – otherwise, he refused to fix anything. And knowing him, there was no way he’d pick up any of your calls anytime soon.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips the moment your car decides to cooperate and the engine starts. “Good girl...” You whisper through your teeth with a smile, moving your finger towards the screen of the radio to start it.

“Well damn! Doesn’t someone look sexy as hell this morning?” Zaila says as she looks at you up and down from her desk – obviously noticing the shoes you chose this morning, you smile at her as you walk towards the reception.

“Well, to your information, I was actually thinking about bringing the leopard print ones you love so much…” You speak with a playful tone while you put your purse on top of her counter.

You give her a sly smirk, checking in with the fingerprint scan she places in front of you.

“I know I’m late… I’m hungover and my car is acting up again and that asshole won’t-” before you can even finish, Zaila moves her hand up to stop you, her various bracelets jingle on her wrist when she does this, stopping you from opening your mouth to explain any further.

You sigh as you already know what she’s about to say.

“Don’t think about it, alright? I was late too – stayed up fighting with that annoying witch living next door. Barely got any rest.”

Zaila says and you smile.

“Somethin’ to laugh about?” She asks, raising an eyebrow and giving you her best warning look.

“No ma’am.” You say with a thankful smile, getting a hold of your purse again before lightly squeezing Zaila’s soft hand and walking away towards your consulting room.

You check your phone while the computer on the desk turns on, you check your channel and smile to yourself while reading some of the comments from your lasagna recipe.

You definitely worked hard for that video and your subscribers seemed to really like it – you were aware that the ages of your views were something quite varied. From teenagers learning how to cook for themselves to middle aged adults improving in the kitchen.

Looking back at the computer in front of you, you put your phone down and begin organizing and checking some files from your patients.

Coming here with Zaila for lunch break was a good idea as always. Both of you laugh, gossip and enjoy lunch break while you sit at the small fancy restaurant that’s right across the street from the clinic.

Zaila went to the bathroom as the two of you waited for the food you ordered to arrive, leaving you alone at the table. You looked through your purse to grab your small mirror when your phone started buzzing from the call you were now receiving.

You grab it and look at the screen, reading the name of the contact, “Harrison - Mechanic.” – you huff and roll your eyes as you answer the call from the asshole that had been ignoring you for the past three days.

“Am I speaking to my favorite client?” The mechanic says, his tone sounding almost cheerful, you’ve known this man for some time now and you know him well enough to know he’s probably drunk.

“So you ignore your favorite client’s calls for three days straight now?” You reply to him. It sounds too rude, you know that but this man is an asshole too and him ignoring you was three times worse than your words.

“Oh c’mon… I’ve just been… uh…” – you wait in silence and look at your nails, already wondering what excuse he’s going to give you.

“–that doesn’t matter now since I’m talking to you, aye? What seems to be the problem with your lady?”

“What makes you think I’ll go back to your garage?” You speak, almost irritated, then catch a glimpse of Zaila from the corner of your eye while she talks to one of the waiters on her way back to the table.

“I’ll give you a discount, how ’bout that, doc? No need to make this call any longer, just, eh, come over and I’ll check on her.” Harrison speaks and you swear you can almost see that annoying smile of his as he speaks.

“You sure you won’t “forget” about your promise when I get there?” You speak, your tone almost sarcastic.

“Would I ever lie to my favorite client?” – Yeah he definitely would, but your car needs a mechanic now and as big of an asshole Harrison can be, you have to admit he’s good at his work when he wants to be.

“Alright, I’ll try to be there after work.” You finally say, ending the call to look at Zaila who is now sitting back on her chair.

John walks through the cereal aisle, gripping the steel handle as the wheels roll. He wasn’t in such a bad mood now that he left base, with the leave he got, he actually felt more relaxed.

The man would not deny he was more used to walking through the halls of a military base than walking through the long aisles of a supermarket – maybe he’d go for a few drinks after this, not wanting to spend his time isolated at home for too long. John clears his throat and rubs forehead and eyes with his fingertips, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He has the essentials in his cart, some milk, vegetables, juice, meat, rice and the three-in-one shampoo he has grown used to.

As John moves his cart towards the register, he glances at two adults and a child – the boy no older than five years and throwing quite the show as he cries and squirms on the floor while he grips a box with children’s toys. He looks at the adults that seem to be his parents, a man and a woman with worried and irritated look on their faces as they try to calm him down.

Was this the reason he never looked forward to starting a family, ugly temper tantrums? No, that would only be another excuse – Maybe the demands of his job? It would be too selfish to leave a woman whom he’d call his wife by herself taking care of a kid while he was in the middle of god-knows-where.

Had he given up the idea of starting a family of his own? Because it surely seemed late for him to try.

Did he want that life? Was he getting tired of going home to an empty house? He didn’t really know if he could call his house a home, it didn’t exactly feel like the concept of a warm family waiting for him, some kids, a wife and a dog – but at least, no children or a wife would be missing him and suffering while waiting for him to get home. To get back home from a job that has his life on the line between life and death, between doing terrible things to accomplish a greater purpose and getting his hands dirtier than ever.

His bubble of thoughts are popped with a sharp pin as the cashier looks at him and speaks, clearing her throat and almost giving him a dirty look for staying so still while glancing at the family – “Sir, you’re next.” The woman speaks as he looks at her.

“Right, sorry.” The rugged man says as he starts moving the things of his cart to the register.

You didn’t drive to Harrison’s right away after work, you stopped at home and took a shower, changing your clothes and then stopping at the grocery store – It was supposed to be a quick trip but you almost throw your bags on the floor of the store’s parking lot as you notice your rear left tire almost entirely flat.

“Fuck…” you mumble as you approach it, your breath hitches and you try to remain as calm as possible, lowering the grocerie bags on the floor, not caring about them getting dirty anymore.

You approach the tire and give it two small kicks to check how soft it was, it would be impossible to drive to your mechanic with a tire like this.

You knew how to change a tire, sure – your father had shown you a long time ago after a nail punctured one of the rear wheels of his truck. But that was too long ago for you to remember step by step and you knew the mechanic would not pick up if you called him to come here and help you. Even if he did, the man would overcharge you as always and you were not about to tolerate that, not after he promised you a discount to fix what was wrong with the engine.

Opening the trunk of your car, you search for a way to lift the liner carpet knowing the tire tools might be underneath it – You grunt as you lift the heavy box and see the spare tire underneath it. Right as you struggle to lift it a voice interrupts you.

“Need any help with that?” You turn around towards the husky unknown voice you just heard just to see a man standing there with his own grocery bags.

The silence is almost palpable as you look at him.

“Changing a tyre by yourself can be hard.” He says again, you huff after hearing his words –

“Are you suggesting I can’t do it by myself?”

you blurt out, immediately biting your tongue as you realize how rude and bitchy that must have sounded, but before you can even correct yourself the man speaks.

“Wasn’t making any suggestions, miss, just trying to lend a helping hand.” The man doesn’t seem phased in the slightest by the tone you used. He speaks with such eloquence and calmness that you are surprised he didn’t get offended and leave right after you spoke.

“Sorry, I- That was really rude of me.” You say, almost blushing from the embarrassment you just put yourself through with your own words, you didn’t mean to take your frustration out on a man offering his help.

“All is forgiven, miss.” He takes one step closer and looks at the trunk of the car where the spare tire is. What you didn’t know is that he recognized you the moment he heard your voice and saw your face, it had to be you – the girl from the cooking videos he has been watching for the last whole month; yet he was not about to comment on it because if for some reason it actually wasn’t you then it would make things too awkward, he thought.

“May I?” You immediately nod and stop staring.

“Yes- But… I wouldn’t want to bother you though.” He shakes his head and lowers his grocerie bags onto the floor.

“Not a bother at all, miss. I was just heading home. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes to change it.” You clear your throat and nod as the man speaks, the embarrassment going away.

“You sure?”

“Quite sure.”

You step aside as he lifts the spare tire with such ease only using one of his arms and using his other hand as he grabs he handle of your car’s toolbox with the other hand.

The man moves to kneel down right in front of the tire and you take a moment to inspect him. By the accent, he is clearly from here. Icy blue eyes and a masculine rugged look, not to the point he’s too intimidating but nearly there. The navy blue t-shirt he wears looks a bit tight on him, he seems older than you by a few years not too many though – you can clearly tell that by the few lines on his forehead and the few grey hairs on his dark brown beard. Last time you saw someone wearing such interesting mutton chops beard with that moustache was during a disney movie.

You try not to stare when the muscles on his arms flex the moment he grips the wheel brace as he loosens the wheel bolts by twisting them.

“You’ve got experience, I reckon.” You say as he carefully aligns the scissor jack under the jacking point of your car, he looks at you and nods with a very small smile.

“Not to brag, miss. Done this many times.” His voice rumbling on his chest, the two of you make some eye contact for a single second and he breaks it by moving the wheel brace to the jack. – “Had any trouble with your car ’fore?” He asks as the tool begins to lift up the car slowly when he twists it.

“I was about to drive to my mechanic’s after he spent three days ignoring my calls, some engine problems.” The man listens to you carefully.

“I believe three day’s enough to know your mechanic might be too irresponsable – Not to intrude with my comments though.” He moves to take out the old tire.

You sigh and nod “He’s an asshole, I know.” Your chuckle makes him sigh and give you a small chuckle of his own as he places the wheel down, shaking his head slowly.

He still can’t believe he’s seeing you in person – Well, that might sound weird but the man has seen too many of your cooking videos to deny it’s you.

“Mind giving me a small class?” You ask, taking a step closer – how ironic, he’s been the one watching your cooking recipes and learning from them and now he’s the one teaching you?

He nods.

“Wanna try?” He suggests and you oblige by grabbing the tool. “This is the lug wrench, right?” You ask and he nods again.

“We call them wheel braces ’ere but yes – It is.” He moves to grab the replacement tire and aligns the holes of the bolt with the lugs and begins to tighten them.

“These are the wheel bolts, you twist ’em with your hands as much as you can ’fore you lower the car with your jack and tighten them again usin’ the brace.” The way he explains it to you almost makes you blush as you are leaning forward and looking at the tire like a child at the aquarium.

You glance at his arms as he lowers the car using the jack again, making that twisting movement that makes the muscles on his arms even bigger, and the veins on his rough hands more noticeable.

The english man tightens the bolts before fully removing the jack from under your car, he lets out a quiet, deep grunt when he gets up again. You help him by grabbing some of the tools as he grabs the old wheel that was apparently pricked by a rusty nail.

“Good as new now, eh?” He says and you realize your mistake after be places the old tire in the trunk of your car. –“I’m so sorry- uh, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N.” That clicks in John’s head, it really was you and he was almost amused to say the least.

“No need to be sorry. ’m John, John Price.”

You shake his hand, not caring in the slightest about the dust on his hand from manipulating all those tools and both tires – his hand feels rough, calloused as if he’s too used to doing these type of things often, the heavy work.

“Forgive me if this sounds strange but ’m pretty sure I’ve watched your videos a few times. Cooking, right?” John says after your hands separate.

You are immediately surprised, almost in awe and he can tell by the look on your face. You try to keep your jaw as tight as you humanly can – almost as if it would comically fall to the floor is you dared to open it.

“Yeah, that’s… me, yes.” You smile at him widely. “You’ve really watched my videos?” You ask, amused, all your worries go away as his words make your whole week, it’s the first time something like this has happened to you.

“Could say ’m a bit of a fan, actually.” He gives you a smile of his own before he continues talking and looking into your eyes, deeply.

“Wanted to start improving my skills and happened to watch one of your videos, the food I prepared turned out surprisingly well – subscribed ’bout a month ago and… been watching ’em ever since.” That raspy and collected tone of his almost soothes your nerves.

“I’m shocked- I’ve never met any of my subscribers…” You admit with a smile full of excitement.

“Well, ’sppose there’s always a first time, innit?” – there is a comfortable silence after you nod but is broken by John looking back at your car.

“You mentioned there was a problem with the engine, that right?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm, it stops sometimes and it can be tricky to start it.” You speak with a sheepish smile and the man crosses his arms as he stands in front of you.

“Want me to take a look?” Honestly? You’d like to talk to him more but you have to get to Harrison’s befoee he closes and you don’t want to keep John here forever, as happy as you are right now. His grocerie bags are on the floor with yours, completely forgotten and you wouldn’t want him to waste his time.

“Don’t worry, I was on my way to the mechanic anyway. Wouldn’t want to keel you here forever.”

“You sure?” John looks at your car then back at you – you give him a nod and he sighs.

“Well… If the engine’s been playin’ games with ya and stops on your way there. Let me know, I mean-” He scrounches up his face in annoyance when the excuse of giving you his number gets too obvious but the sound of the giggle that escapes your lips makes it go away.

“Could use your number for that.” You say quicker than you expected and he immediately smiles, clicking his tongue and taking out his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

“Right.” John says with that deep husky tone rumbling on his chest and a small smile on his face, almost a shy one.

After getting his number, you glance at his brown boots as he lifts up his bags and gives you a small goodbye nod, you wave your hand at him and smile almost stupidly.

“It was nice meetin’ you, Y/N.” John says and you nod too.

“It was nice meeting you too, John.”

As he makes his way to his own truck, you lift up your long forgotten bags and put them in the backseat of your car before you start the engine and sigh in relief since it didn’t give you any trouble this time.

“Well that was hot…” You mumble with a smile as you reverse the car.

Taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @thesevi0lentdelights @zekes-beard (Let me know in the comments if you’d like to be added! ♡)

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #fanfic

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hollyhomburg · 5 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

369 notes · View notes

cerisereids · 1 month

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞- 𝐞.𝐦. (𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞’𝐬 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

i don’t rly go here at this current moment in time but i def want to start writing for eddie more so im partaking in @carolmunson’s writing challenge!! details found here!

pairing- eddie munson x fem!reader

summary- you’re teaching eddie some baking skills ahead of your family’s holiday party. eddie accidentally lets some insecurities slip. you reassure him how much you love him.

warnings- this lowkey got kind of angsty but only for a little, insecure!eddie but we love him

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

thump.

the collision of soft cushion against the back of your head mats your hair and stops you in your tracks. you pause for a moment, hands settling on the edge of the small trailer’s kitchen. you bite your lip, almost annoyed at yourself that you find his immature behavior so endearing.

“really, eds? are you five?” you chastise lovingly, promptly returning the throw pillow exactly the same way it came.

“oof!” eddie exhales as the pillow comes into contact with his soft tummy, “i'm sooorrryyyyy," he fake whines, sauntering over to your spot in the kitchen, "god forbid i want attention from my girlfriend! didn't realize that was asking so much!"

you roll your eyes at his dramatics but sink into his chest as he encircles his arms around your waist.

"what are we making, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your temple before placing a kiss there.

"my grandmother's famous sugar cookie recipe. you can be in charge of the frosting?" you lean your head back onto his shoulder as you ask the question, your sparkling eyes boring into his uncertain ones.

he sucks in air through his teeth, "i dunno babe, i'm no good at this. in case you forgot, i burn water."

you stiffen in his arms, "don't be like that," you quip, "that's not even true! and you know i hate when you talk about yourself like that. so in case you forgot, you can do anything you set that pretty little mind to." you punctuate your little speech with a kiss to his forehead, hoping it seeps through his brain and he finally understands how amazing he truly is.

"thanks, babe," he mutters sheepishly, his humorous reserve gone, "how do i make frosting? i didn't even know it doesn't always come in cans until just now."

you huff out a laugh, "i brought my recipe book for everything," you explain, pulling out a small notebook full of your grandmother's scribbles, "so as long as you have measuring cups and mixing bowls we should be all set."

he takes a second to rummage through his cupboards, pulling out white plastic cups with faded labels on them- 1 cup, 1/2 cup, 1/4 cup, and so on.

"we don't have any like, nice measuring cups, is this okay?" he asks, voice still meek, cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink.

“as long as we have the right measurements, i don’t care what they look like,” you flash him your sweetest smile before planting a big kiss on his cheek. you beam when his cheeks flush even deeper.

“soooo…” eddie starts, handing you two mixing bowls and taking one for himself, “who’s all going to be there this weekend?”

you could tell by the unusual nonchalance in his tone that he was nervous, but trying to play it cool. after a lifetime of harassment for being who he was, you knew that the pressure of meeting your family was resting heavy on his shoulders.

“pretty much the whole crew,” you say as lightly as possible, but you still see him tense. “eds. they’re gonna love you. i promise,” you tell him with utmost sincerity.

“really?” he scoffs, putting more elbow grease than necessary into mixing the vanilla cookie frosting, “you positive your picture perfect family is gonna be okay with you bringing some freak to their annual party?” his words have bite to them, and they make you pause. “the fact that your family even has an annual christmas party is beyond me.” he mutters under his breath.

you know what he’s doing, you’ve been here before. eddie sometimes feels insecure about the disparities of his upbringing, and you know by now that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. his bitter words are his armor, protecting him from the vulnerability he shied away from for years. that doesn’t mean they don’t sting, though.

“eddie, if you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” you rest your spoon on the lip of the mixing bowl and turn to him, “i love you. everything about you, and my family loves me. which means that they’re going to love you no matter what, because you’re important to me.”

he’s still not entirely convinced, so you opt to pull out the big guns, “eddie. do you love me?”

his eyes snap to yours, wild and incredulous, “of course i do. what kind of question is that?”

“as cheesy as it sounds, that’s all that matters sweetheart. they’re going to see how sweet you love me, and that’s all they’ll need to know you’re amazing,” you thwart his attempts to make himself smaller, “unfortunately for you, babe, you can’t hide from me at this point. i see all of you, i know all of you, and i love all of you,” you move to wrap your arms around his middle, eyes boring into his so he can feel your sincerity.

“you-you really like that?” he chews his bottom lip, “all of me?” the last part comes out quiet, and your heart cracks in your chest.

“i love it, eddie. i love you. i swear i want to go back in time and beat up all those little assholes who made you feel otherwise,” you seal your words with a kiss on his lips, a hint of vanilla frosting dances on your tongue.

“thank you, my love,” he says when you break, squeezing you to his chest in an infamous eddie bear hug, “i love you too.”

the two of you stood there for a minute, your nails scraping at the nape of his neck as he held you close.

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writercole · 2 months

Text

Cat's Out of the Bag

Summary: Jake has secrets Words: 1500ish Warnings: angsty-ish, twist, found family, Jake Seresin. A/N: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM THAT I HAVE MUSES FOR SOMEONE OTHER THAN CHARLES LECLERC RIGHT NOW. A/N 2: Enjoy this word vomit that took all of 30 minutes to write.

Jake Seresin sat quietly at the bar, his fingers twirling the short glass of whiskey in front of him. The behavior struck the entire bar as out of character, the blond pilot’s general demeanor being loud, boastful, and needing to be the center of attention.

“What’s wrong with him?” Rooster whispered to Coyote.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Coyote, you’re his best friend. You know more than any of the rest of us will ever hope to know. What is wrong with Hangman?”

Coyote sighed as he looked over at the man seated at the bar. He knew there were things the team didn’t know, things Jake didn’t want them to know. But the pleading stares of their co-workers wore him down. “His wife left.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Rooster stammered.

The only one in the group unfazed by the news of the cocky pilot’s spouse was Bob, something that didn’t shock Coyote at all.

“So you’re telling me,” Phoenix started, setting her beer down, “that not only has Bagman been married this whole time, but now he’s pouting at the bar because she’s gone?”

“He’s never mentioned a wife, though,” Fanboy commented.

“I can’t believe he’d do that to his wife,” Payback scoffed. “No wonder she left.”

“Do what to her?” Coyote questioned, his tone defensive as he squared his shoulders.

“The women, the drinking, you know, his basic weekend,” Payback clarified.

“The women he never left with? The ones he bought a drink for and sent to someone else? The max of two beers he nursed through the night while buying us multiple rounds?” Coyote rebutted, his temper flaring as he stared down the other pilot.

“We never actually saw anything besides talking,” Bob added with a shrug.

“Not only are you telling us that Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin is not the ladies man he pretended to be, but that he’s married.” Fanboy shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of beer as he processed the information.

“I’m honestly surprised no one else picked up on it,” Coyote shrugged, relaxing a little after Bob took his side.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Phoenix asked.

“Not my place to tell. Besides, Jake asked me for discretion.”

“And you, Bob?”

“No one asked me. Besides, I don’t like betraying my friends’ confidence.”

“They knew you know?!” Fanboy stared, slack-jawed at the quiet backseater, mentally running through all of their conversations for any mention of the crucial detail.

“She’s got a killer brownie recipe,” Bob squeaked as his cheeks reddened with the attention focused on him.

“What are we going to do?” Rooster sighed as he watched his rival toss a bill on the counter and leave his unfinished drink.

“I have an idea,” Phoenix smirked.

Jake sighed as he put away the last plate. Seven o’clock on a Saturday morning and he had worked out for two hours, cooked and ate breakfast, showered, and cleaned the entire house.

He always had trouble sleeping alone.

His brows furrowed when he heard a knock on the front door. His muscles tensed and he crept forward quietly, shaking his head and relaxing when he saw who was there.

“Hey Jake!” a chorus greeted as he opened the door to his squad.

“Guys, what are you doing here?” Jake questioned, his eyes boring into Coyote’s forehead as his best friend actively avoided his gaze.

“Coyote mentioned what happened a few days ago and Phoenix – oof – we decided to come hang out for the day,” Rooster explained with the help of Phoenix’s elbow.

“Guys, really, it’s fine -”

“We aren’t leaving until after lunch at the earliest,” Phoenix interrupted.

Jake regarded the brunette carefully before stepping aside and allowing his friends into his home. “Shoes,” he barked to the four who weren’t already removing their footwear.

“Nice place you have here Ba- Jake,” Fanboy complimented as he took in the bright spaces.

“Thanks. It’s small but it’s home,” Jake replied. “Living room’s through here.” He led them to a spacious room with vaulted ceilings, built in bookcases framing a large television set.

“Call of Duty?” He asked as he picked up a controller and powered on a gaming console.

Payback was quick to pick up the second controller and settle into an armchair. “Man, we live Call of Duty. You got Madden?”

“Do I have Madden? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Phoenix and Rooster shared a look of relief at the almost immediate improvement in their friend’s mood.

Several hours and a coffee table covered in snacks later, Jake was yelling instructions at Bob on which buttons to press to run a play that would win the match against Phoenix.

The overlapping voices in the room were so loud that they didn’t hear the door open and shut.

“Jakey, what is all of this?” An amused voice called out over the ruckus.

“Baby, you’re back!” Jake shouted as he vaulted across the room, leaping over bodies like a golden retriever to scoop the woman up in his arms and twirl her around. His lips met hers as her feet dangled off the ground, the pair of them oblivious to the way all noise had stopped.

“Jake, please put me down. I’m getting sick!”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized as he set her feet back on the floor.

“Will someone please explain what’s going on?” Fanboy said.

“Hi, I’m Jake’s wife,” she giggled as Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You must be the rest of his squad. Fanboy, Phoenix, Payback and...Chicken? Right?”

Jake stifled his laughter with her shoulder as Rooster gawked at her. “Rooster, not chicken.”

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I just hadn’t been able to put faces to the names Jake always mentioned.”

“Coyote said you left,” Rooster stated.

“Yeah, I had to go home for a few days for a dress fitting. Jake’s sister is getting married next month.”

“Is everything else okay?” Jake questioned, taking her attention back to him.

“Yeah, your mom sends her love. Gran can’t wait. You know, everyone so excited for everything.”

“Did Leah agree to our idea?”

“Oh my god she’s thrilled, Jake! I wish you could have seen her face! As maid of honor and best man, we’ll do a joint speech at the rehearsal.”

“And the other thing?”

“Of course she and Derek agreed!”

“Hey, uh, there’s five –“ Rooster stopped and looked at Bob who seemed like he would melt into the couch with relief – “okay, four very confused squad mates here need to know what the fuck is going on.”

“Can I? PLEASE JAKE!?” she pleaded as she turned to face her husband. He nodded slightly and she squealed, planting a kiss to his cheek before rushing out of the room.

“Coyote, what did you tell them?” Jake asked as he took in the faces of his friends around the room.

“I said your wife left,” Coyote shrugged.

“That’s ALL he said!” Payback shouted.

“Bob, you didn’t tell them either?”

“BOB KNEW?!”

“Bob is technically family at this point. My sister, Leah, is marrying his brother, Derek,” Jake explained as his wife came back with a small bundle.

She handed Jake a box and unfurled a piece of cloth, grinning as gasps rang out around the room.

“Coming soon...baby Seresin,” Rooster read aloud.

“You’re pregnant!” Phoenix exclaimed, crossing the room to give her congratulations up close.

“So...you’re married, your wife didn’t leave you for good, and she’s having your kid?” Fanboy scrunched his face as he attempted to process the information he’d been given in such a small amount of time.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jake confirmed with a grin, his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist as Phoenix begged for details.

“Jake, baby, why don’t we throw something on the grill for everyone?” she asked as she looked up at him.

“If that’s what you want, absolutely,” he responded with a kiss to her head.

“It would be nice to get to know everyone. Now that all of the cats are out of their respective bags.”

“You’re going to make me socialize outside of work with them, aren’t you?” Jake pouted.

“Well, we already see Bob and Javy all the time. We might as well throw in the rest as well.”

Jake groaned dramatically, smiling when he saw how happy the idea made her. “Fine. Coyote, you’re coming to the store with me. Bob, you keep her off of her feet.”

“I’m not telling her what to do,” Bob balked.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she cooed as she turned his face to her and kissed his lips again. “I will sit down in that chair and not move until it’s time for dinner.”

“Good.”

“Sorry for letting the cat out of the bag, man,” Coyote apologized, clapping his shoulder.

“Maybe I should have done it sooner,” Jake mused. “It seems to make her happy to have another girl around.”

Jake slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, turning back before stepping out of the door. These people may not be blood, but they were his family.

#writercole #jake seresin #top gun maverick #tgm #glen powell #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman seresin

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lavendermunson · 5 months

Text

gingerbread - eddie munson

day 1 of leia's christmas tree farm

cw no one just fluff. gilmore!reader working with sookie!

It was the way his curls framed his beautiful face, his big brown eyes shining under the soft yellow lights of the bakery, the way his fingers poked into his vest’s pockets to find the quarters for the tip jar.

You’ve always looked at him with a sense of hope. Even if it’s while packing orders, fixing the last-minute details on a cake, or replacing stuff on the shelves. But now that you are taking care of everything at the front – because Sookie told you and the kitchen is a mess anyway – he’s going to come in any minute now, along with his uncle, of course. He is going to order the ‘muffin of the day’ and you’ll look for the one who has more chocolate chips since that’s the flavor you picked for the special today.

You see his van pull up in front of the store, he has a red beanie on that matches his signature Dio vest. But even with all of the winter accessories in the world, the top of his nose is still red and cold just like his cheeks. He tries to warm his hands, rubbing them together even with his rings on.

“What are you- oh! the cute guy” Sookie’s voice makes you jump, shaking your head to get out of your thoughts and try to act like a normal person. Your crush on Eddie is not a secret between you and your employer, who happens to be your mom's best friend too.

“Shh, I'm not ready for this. Can you take his order for me?” you ask her, she notices the anxiety on your face.

“Nope, you got this sweetie!” Sookie goes back to the kitchen leaving you alone, damn it.

The bell of the store rings and as you look up, he stands in front of you. Just looking at you with a shine in his eyes and a little small on his face.

“Hey,” Eddie says, not noticing the way your body shakes at his words.

“Hey, welcome to Sookie’s, what can I get for you?”

You follow the script, it’s easy. He’ll order his usual, you’ll serve him, he’ll pay and eventually leave. Leaving you with your empty heart and your longing for him.

“I’m not sure, I want something new… something sweeter. Can you help me with that?”

A grin shows up on his face, his words getting in your head and your cheeks getting that pink tone. Yeah, you can help, you’d do anything.

“I think we have some-“

Sookie comes back from the kitchen, with a new batch of gingerbread cookies. The recipe you created for weeks.

“Hey! Eddie? Where's your uncle?” she asks, stealing Eddie’s attention from you.

“He is at home, took a very much-needed day off and he’s cleaning his mug collection. I didn't want to get in the way”

His pretty curls bounce as he shakes his head and an adorable giggle falls off from his lips. He has you right in the palm of his hand and doesn’t even notice.

“Wonderful, hope he gets some rest. Would you like to try our new gingerbread recipe? my favorite sous chef made this recipe”

Sookie nudges your arm, pushing the tray of cookies toward Eddie, who hesitates before leaning back.

“Sorry. I hate gingerbread, but I’m sure they are amazing!”

Sookie returns to the kitchen after telling Eddie not to worry offering a smile and leaving the tray of cookies for you to display.

“I am so, so sorry”

“Don’t worry about it, what can I get for you today”

“Yeah, uh, three red velvet cupcakes and.…” he pauses while hunching down and looking at all the pastries. “Four chocolate chip cookies please" For a moment his gaze locks with your eyes, and his cheeks glow red as yours when he sees you smiling at him.

If he could, he would kiss you right now to show you just how lucky and grateful he is to see your face almost every day. Here. At school. At parties. At the public library.

“Anything else?” you ask, trying to help and trying for a speech to come out of your lips to make him buy more sweets for his uncle.

You carefully place his order in a box, taking extra care not to smush the cupcakes. He looks at you, admiring your pink glossy lips, rosy cheeks, and cute apron.

“You” his voice is soft, but firm. The unexpected and tiny confession makes your heart thump as loud as it can against your chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he returns to be in front of you, placing both of his hands on the counter. Goosebumps are taking all over your body if he wants to distract you, he sure has.

“Your total is 13 dollars with 35 cents” you blur out. He lets out a chuckle when you avoid his eyes, focusing on writing his receipt and accepting the money just to give him his change.

“Thank you. But I’m still missing one thing” Eddie notices the way you bite your lower lip hiding your smile as his words come in a surprise. He has wanted to make a move for so long. “Can you take a break?”

He holds the little box you gave him between his hands, his ringed fingers tapping at the cardboard impatiently. You smile as he waits for your answer, it was not a joke, you weren’t dreaming. Eddie has this mischievous grin on his face that just makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

“I’ll ask, wait for me by the back door”

You run up to the kitchen and ask Sookie for a break. She says you only have five minutes because you already had a long break and she needs you to take the customer’s orders.

You pause at the back door to check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair and adding a touch more lip gloss. As you turn to leave, you realize you've forgotten to remove your apron. It's too late to do anything about it, though, because as soon as you open the door, you come face to face with Eddie.

“I mean it, I want you. I’ve had this crush on you for a while now. Every time I come here it’s to see you and I’d love to-“

His words get cut off by the way you press his lips against his. His hands find your waist giving them a soft squeeze before tangling his arms around you to push you closer. You steady yourself on your tippy toes, and reach for him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

With one hand, you tangle your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck, keeping him close.

“I’d love to take you on a date” Eddie finishes his sentence when he breaks the kiss. “Would you give me the honor of taking you on a date?”

“Yes. Yes, I want to. I want you too, Eddie” You nod, smiling big as his eyes glow. He feels you shaking under him, of course. You forgot your coat.

He hugs you closer to his body, trying to shield you from the cold. You take comfort in his embrace, letting your arms fall to the side of his body, and get inside his jacket to hug him and warm your hands.

“By the way… you taste good. I mean, the kiss, you-“

“I ate a lot of gingerbread cookies”

You look up at him, trying to stay close for warmth but wanting to see his face.

“And you said you didn’t like it” you tease.

He smiles at you, giggling.

“Now I don’t mind, not when I get to do this again”

He leans in and kisses you again while holding you close. He doesn’t care about the cold, he doesn’t even care about the taste he swore he hated. He only cares about you, his future girl.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, remember you can still request a gift!

forgot who made the first divider, please claim or tag them. second divider by saradika

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fuck-customers · 3 months

Note

fuck two of my coworkers, ok. gonna be a long one.

so i’m kind of a floater between stations in the kitchen, originally hired on for pantry (cold apps, salads, and desserts) with occasional training on expo and line. since our old dishwasher got himself fired, i’ve mostly been doing that for the last couple months. for the last two weeks we’ve been having issues with the garbage disposal sink getting backed up and not draining, fucking up one of the pipes in the wall to make it overflow—this has made doing dishes in a timely fashion with one person on that station vastly more difficult.

as a result of the above, the chef (C) tells me last night to come in an hour earlier than my original schedule “so you don’t get fucked on the dishes during brunch rush.” unbeknownst to me, he also tells the main pantry worker (J1) that she needs to ask me for help to make sure she has all her prep done before brunch.

i don’t find out about that until i’ve already been working for upwards of half an hour on making sure all the stations have the dishes they’re supposed to and any leftover from last night have been put away. this includes multiple trips to and from pantry to cart stacks of plates, during any of which J1 could have asked me to help when i get my hands free. instead, it’s the SOUS CHEF (S) who stops me on my way to prep for a weekly cleaning task to tell me to ask J1 if she needs help.

i’m just like, yeah ok sure, and i go to ask her. she’s like “🫤 weren’t you supposed to be over here helping me anyway” and i’m like “…i don’t know, C told me to come in for dishes, i’m just going off of what he said.” and ask her what she needs help with. she puts me on a non-crucial task that ends up fucking us over because we’re completely out of one of our more popular menu items for pantry, and she and the other floater/currently mostly pantry guy (J2) haven’t been getting their prep done right/at all. meaning i have to drop everything while the brunch rush is starting to get everything prepped before i can even make the item for it to be served. (put a pin in this. 📌)

brunch ends, we each get our 15, i come back from break and ask C where he wants me, “so i’m back on the same page as the rest of the kitchen.” he tells me to continue helping at pantry, making filling for deviled eggs. i don’t know the new recipe and he hasn’t written it down yet, so he tells me to plate desserts instead. J1 comes back from break right then and starts plating desserts. J1 does know the new filling recipe. i just kind of sigh and go back to C and ask him to just show me how to make the new filling. C, instead, walks back to pantry with me, and tells J1 to swap roles with me, telling her to make the filling while i plate cakes. she doesn’t fucking hear him because she’s got headphones on and loud, to the point that i have to get her attention three times before she even looks up.

i say, “C wants us to switch.” she straight up rolls her eyes at me and starts moving her dessert setup. we have one working outlet that we can plug the food processor into in the pantry area, where the fuck does she think i’m going? i clarify “no, C wants you to get started on the filling, and let me finish the cakes” and she goes “oh” before moving to start the filling. the food processor turns out to not be working, so she asks me to relay that to C, and i do, and when i come back she’s fucking plating cakes again. i remind her that C told me to do that and she just goes “🙄 i got this, go do one of your other tasks” so i just get fed up with her and her shit and spend the next two hours getting some hardcore catharsis in by sweeping, deck scrubbing, and mopping the dry storage area. the rest of the night with her goes pretty smooth because i’m mostly able to ignore her while i prep for tomorrow. she’s been kind of a cunt since a friend of hers, A, got fired/walked out/i’m fuzzy on the details anyway, so like. oh well. seethe and mald but stop making your problems mine, yk? let me do my fucking job.

📌 circling back now to that pin. the popular food item in question requires sliced cured meat. there was some cut, but only enough for about 3 of them before being left with unservable scraps that C doesn’t want on the plate. so i take a fresh meat log to the slicer, only to find it in an absolute STATE. it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned all fucking month. there’s old yellowing grease all over it and bits of dried meat scraps/flakes caked everywhere on and around it that have gone past dried and starting to turn rancid—like, this shit was turning green.

i am, of course, disgusted and appalled, because making and prepping for this particular menu item was easily 85% of my job when i was focused on pantry, and the worst i ever let the slicer get was getting too busy to remember to clean it before the end of one shift and doing it first thing when i came in for the next. the worst you’d find then was some dried meat flakes that had turned a slightly darker pink. so of course i immediately set to cleaning the slicer before even thinking about putting anything intended for human consumption near it.

C comes back to see what’s taking so long bc i usually have a full log sliced by that point. i’m still in the process of cleaning the slicer, so i point out what mess is left (i had about a third of it done by now; it was Bad) and he goes “oh, that might have been J2” and tells me to hurry and slice just enough for a few more orders, and i can finish slicing after they’re arranged for service.

i come back to pantry, where J1 is now running window to expo and J2 is arranging the non-meat parts of the item. i say aloud for both of them, “hey, just so you know, we need to wipe down and sanitize the slicer after we’re done using it.” J2 straight up says “well, it wasn’t cleaned the last time i had to use it,” which just hits me with such an intense wave of anger that i go nonverbal for a minute while i focus on plating. like. so you agree, you admit it, you didn’t fucking clean it after you were done. J2 has been risking unleashing food poisoning on our entire clientele for god knows how long.

later, after dinner service, i’m helping the temp on dishes—i’m hand-washing mostly pans and other things that won’t fit in the machine in the three-tier manual sink, while the temp is running the machine, and J2 has been putting the trays of dishes away as they come out. as i’m filling the manual sinks i turn to J2 and say, “if you wanna just focus on putting things away, i can knock out the washing here,” and he agrees.

and then he proceeds to completely fucking ignore the rapidly filling sanitizer sink in favor of continuing to put away the machine dishes. even when i move things onto the counter between the sanitizer soak and the “out” side of the machine, taking up almost all of the available space to give myself room to keep cycling through the dishes, he continues ignoring it, simply lifting the dish machine trays over and past the growing pile of waiting manual dishes.

i step away for a bit to cool off, catch my breath, take something for the migraine that has been steadily building since ~11:30am (it is now almost 9pm) from having to deal with J1 and J2 all fucking day. i have been asked to help with trash as part of close. J2 has the gall to ask me “how much longer do you think you’ll be?” at a fucking guess i’m going to be a lot goddamn longer than i would be if you were actually HELPING ME, dickhead.

J2 ended up clocking out after the temps helped him with trash without putting a single manual dish away, leaving me with three full sinks and an overloaded counter. i didn’t get home until after midnight (partly because my ride was helping with after-dinner bar service) and i have to go back and do it all the fuck again at 11a again tomorrow.

i swear, if J2 gets fired and is never allowed to work in foodservice again after tonight’s bullshit, especially the state i found the deli slicer in, i’m converting back to christianity, because i’m taking it as proof that there is a merciful and loving god.

Posted by admin Rodney.

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loveephia · 1 year

Note

hey lovely! I saw ur fluff prompts + HQ boys post so I wanted to request a few:

"Don't be stubborn, try it!" + Osamu Miya

"I can't get over how many months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me in my sweater"+ Osamu Miya

"No it's just like I can't believe your actually wearing my clothes" + Iwaizumi Hajime or Kuroo Tetsurou

"Your bed head is really cute" + Oikawa Tooru

"My friends/teammates get so annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes" + Oikawa Tooru

"Shh stop fussing , I'm trying to braid your hair" + Sugawara Koshi

These are just some ideas if you wanted too write them ! Loving your writing btw <333

SWEET PIE | osamu miya

prompt: "don't be stubborn, try it!"

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, reader is a baker but she tries to actually cook for once, osamu is skeptical (of course), you're both married here timeskip.

⚠ warning/s: it's mentioned that reader hurts herself while cooking, but no in-depth detail of it actually happening. + manga spoilers.

note: ngl, it was hard to pick which prompt to do from the list you gave me, so i'll also do: "shhh.. stop fussing, i'm trying to braid your hair." with koushi sugawara in a separate post! ENJOY READING!!! :D

osamu miya came home to the aroma of food. not of your delightful pastries, but of curry. chicken katsu, to be exact. now, that doesn't happen very often (ever) because osamu was always the one who cooked dinner.

there's nothing wrong with you making dinner, of course, osamu just.. happened to remember that one time you brought him a seemingly innocent bento back in high school. one bite in, and he physically couldn't bring himself to take another!

osamu can still taste the clashing flavors of sweet, sour, spicy, bitter, and salty on the tip of his tongue. it came all at once, ever so brutally. he didn't even know that was possible..

ever since that incident, you focused on baking instead.

"oh! hi, 'samu. welcome home." you greeted him warmly from the kitchen. osamu's worries are immediately wiped away just from your little smile and apron that he simply can't get enough of.

"hey, hun." osamu replies, taking his shoes off and switches to the ones that are fit for his own home. he walked over to you and the.. mini mess you made on the kitchen counter. "what are ya cookin'?"

"don't be mad, but i made chicken katsu curry for dinner tonight! a- and i know you usually do the cooking, but i noticed how tired you've been from work lately, so i wanted to try and give you some rest.." you rambled. osamu found you so cute right now.

and.. you weren't wrong. far from it. the more people knew about osamu's restaurant, the busier he'd get. finding employees who could master the recipes right was difficult. finding employees who could treat the customers nicely was difficult. man, just keeping both eyes open at work was difficult!

"..you didn't haf'ta do all this." osamu mumbles.

"but i wanted to! it was the least i could do." you remarked, scooping some of the curry up in a tablespoon. "open up, 'samu."

osamu sweatdropped. "h- hold on—!"

"don't be stubborn, try it!" you said.

osamu looks at your determined face, then.. your fingers that held up the tablespoon. there were small cuts, probably from you trying to carefully slice the ingredients. you worked really hard for this, osamu can tell.

osamu mentally prepares himself before eating from the spoon. his eyes lit up. the flavor wasn't like last time. it wasn't suffocating, and there wasn't a clash.

"this.. is actually really good." osamu stated.

"were you expecting a repeat of history?" you asked, suspiciously squinting your eyes at your husband who whistled innocently to the side, avoiding any eye contact with you.

"come on, have some more faith in me..!" you whined at his reaction. osamu chuckles, pulling you close by the waist, "will do, hun."

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cupidlovemail · 1 year

Text

( genshin impact ) xiao x reader

reader :: gender-neutral

genre :: fluff

word count :: 1.4k

warnings :: none!

characters :: xiao

details :: xiao takes you sightseeing around liyue (:

The entire expanse of Liyue stretches out beneath your feet, the ponds resembling puddles and the trees little more than dark dots in the night. The marsh stretched for what seemed like forever before it melted away into towering stone peaks and cliffs leading toward the neighbouring region of Mondstadt.

“Don’t fall.”

You tilt your head back in greeting to the voice behind you. Xiao, appearing out of thin air like he normally does, approaches the railing on the balcony of Wangshu Inn and leans his back against it. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You look up at the stars twinkling above your head, forming so many constellations that you couldn’t dream of memorizing them all. A small flock of birds fly beneath your feet to remind you just how high up you really are. You finally break the quiet, letting out a sign that causes Xiao to dip his head towards you slightly.

“Do you ever wish you could fly, Xiao?”

He’s quiet for a moment, subtly adjusting his posture. He wondered if he should lie to you. This wasn’t the first time he had found you on the railing of the Inn, your legs over the edge and your head tipped up towards the sky. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge you in your interests and feign interest towards something you’re passionate about. You, however, would see right through him. He had tried before to alter his words to suit what you wanted to hear and each time you told him not to restrain himself.

“If I ask you something I want to know what you honestly think, not what you think will make me happy!” You had told him one night after insisting to make him dinner. He knew you had spent all day gathering ingredients and studying the recipe only for it to end up burning on the stove. Xiao had insisted on eating it anyway, claiming that quality was not a concern for an Adeptus. He was right, there were very few foods he enjoyed and none of them were necessary for his survival. Regardless, he had accepted your offer simply to make you happy. You lingered behind him as he began to eat, checking for any change in his facial expression.

“How is it?”

“It’s… good.” Xiao answered, not wanting to hurt your feelings. In reality, the dish was quite hard to chew and had a strong, bitter taste to it. He grit his teeth and tried to bear it, however, not one to cause a fuss. That was until he heard you stifling a laugh and turned to face you, your hand covering your mouth.

“If it's really that bad you don’t have to eat it!” You exclaim, picking the plate up off the table and preparing to discard it.

“No!” Xiao stood up before he even realized what he was doing, reaching one arm out towards you. “I’ll finish it.”

“Xiao, there’s no need to lie to me. If you don’t like something you should tell me, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings. I want your honest thoughts, please don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”

He was stumped at this, from all of his time living amongst humans he had assumed he was doing the right thing. There were countless times he had seen mortals bite down their own feelings in order to compromise for their partners, something he tried to replicate when spending time with you. This outlook seemed much more reasonable, however, and he nodded his head.

Snapping back to the present, Xiao realized that you were now leaning back far enough to look at his face. He quickly turned away, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he had begun to reminisce about something so mundane. Very unfitting for an Adeptus, he thought.

“No. I’ve never considered it.” He answered honestly.

“I have. Isn’t it beautiful up here? Sometimes I wish I could stand on the highest peaks in Liyue and look down.” You sigh, shutting your eyes to daydream about the possibilities.

“I have an idea,” Xiao says after thinking for a second, a small smile on his face. “But you need to trust me.”

“Always.” You reach out to grab his hand and he helps you climb back over the railing. He leads you to the middle of the balcony, one arm wrapping around your waist while also never loosening his grip on your hand.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod. Your eyes flutter shut you feel the wind begin to pick up around you, blowing through your hair. It almost felt like you could be blown over at any time if it wasn’t for Xiao holding onto you. Your head began to pound, your ears were ringing, and you squeezed your eyes harder to try and stop them from watering. Just as your knees were about to buckle, all of your sensations disappeared as if they hadn’t been there at all.

You timidly open your eyes, revealing the thick clouds above the rocks at your feet. You let out a gasp and nearly stumble backwards, thankful again for Xiao holding onto you.

“Where are we?” You ask, your mouth falling open as you take in the sights. The world below you was so far away that you had to squint in order to make anything out. Birds flew below, their wings resembling shadows instead of feathers. You could almost make out rivers flowing into waterfalls, collecting into one large pond between the mountaintops.

“Qingyun Peak.” Xiao answers, “Is this high enough?”

“Xiao, this is incredible! You’re incredible!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around him as a thank you. Being so far from civilization made him comfortable enough to return the gesture, a small smile never leaving his lips. He watched as you spun around to take everything in. Your eyes were sparkling like the stars and your quiet murmurings filled the air.

“Don’t get too close to the edge.” He said, stretching out his arm to continue holding your hand.

“I just want to look, don’t worry.”

“I always will.” Xiao nearly whispered, not wanting to interrupt your joy. While he sometimes struggled with adapting to human customs, one thing he wholeheartedly understood was the desire to make you happy. You could ask anything of him and he would do it. And now, watching you giddy with delight over the view from the mountain, he felt his heart beat faster than it had in his entire lifetime.

Maybe this was okay. He always tried to distance himself from people, promising to keep them safe from his karma. You were different, however. You never hesitated to be around him even when he acted cold. You never stopped inviting him places even when he brushed you off. You never stopped caring even when he tried to convince you it wasn’t worth it. Looking at you now, Xiao couldn’t be happier that someone was willing to do so much when he never originally reciprocated. He wanted to do everything he could to make it up for you. Even though it went against everything in his being he strived to be vulnerable with you. He wanted you to trust him - both with your protection and with your feelings.

He could see the tiredness in your eyes by the time you approached him again. It was well after midnight when he had found you at the Inn, no doubt waiting up for him as you normally did. Xiao would always tell you to go to sleep without him, he still had a job to do and hated making you wait. You would shake your head and smile at him, making up some excuse about how you couldn’t sleep until he was safe. He almost had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes the first time you said it. He thought you were just being cheesy, something he saw so many other mortal couples doing to try and express their feelings. It wasn’t until recently that he began to understand your words. When Xiao found himself acting recklessly, your voice would flash in his mind. He would put more care into his actions, never wanting to see the look on your face if he came back wounded. While mortals viewed death vastly differently than Adepti, Xiao now had a reason to fear it.

“Thank you so much, Xiao.” You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder and sighing. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

“Anytime.”

Anyone else hearing this response would assume that he was being cold, however you knew him better than that. You knew that he would truly do anything he could for you. You knew that he would protect you no matter the circumstances.

You knew he would always be there for you.

taglist :: @iamblushingatyou @chiisananingen

please ask to be added/removed! thank you so much for the support (:

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin fluff #xiao fluff #fluff #sfw #my writing

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simpforchuchu · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could I request one with Tsuji and Shibaman boys are trying to plan a surprise date for Reader and asks Readers brothers (Binzo )for ideas?

Tsuji & Shibaman planning a suprise date for reader with her brother Binzo's help :)

a/n: Hi! This was a cute idea :)) Here is your request, i hope you like it 💕🌸

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: Maybe Binzo :D

• We know they're both totally boyfriend material but they're a little silly

• Even Shibaman is a little better at making surprises, the best person in this relationship is y/n

• She always offers creative date plans and the boys feel a little guilty about it

• Y/n is very happy with them but they want to plan something special for her

• They usually give gifts to each other what they want, but this time they can't think of anything.

• And that brilliant idea came from Shiba...

• "Do you think it's such a bad idea to ask her brother?"

• Even Shibaman was quite hesitant to ask and Tsuji thinks it's a bad idea

• Even though they're both no longer in big trouble with Binzo, they still realize that their relationship isn't that great.

• Shibaman offered the stupid idea to go to Suzuran and talk, but Tsuji denied it, thinking that y/n would be very upset if they die and her brother go to jail.

• Finally, they began to wait for Binzo in a small cafe.It was quite a nervous wait.

• Binzo was quite confused about why these two were calling him.He rushed to the cafe for fear of giving bad news to his sister

• A while of meaningless stares and silence.Finally, Tsuji sighed and talked about their plans.

• Although Binzo was glad he didn't get any bad news, he was surprised that they asked him for help about something like this.

• They brainstormed for a while, of course there were also small arguments :D

• "Camping ? She loves nature." "No, she is afraid of bugs."

• "Karaoke?" "Oh we did it many times"

• As both sides had done everything they could before, they still couldn't find anything.

• "How about making something handmade for her? I'm sure it'll suck, but I know she'll be happy"

• When Binzo asked, the two looked at each other and Shibaman spoke. "Neither of us is good at these things, but I think it's worth a try"

• The two of them tried to make a cake at Tsuji's house with a detailed recipe from Shibaman's older sister.

• I can't say it's great in shape, but they think it's delicious.

• They started early in the morning to make cake and snacks until noon and found a sweet romantic drama because y/n liked it even though neither of them liked it.

• When they asked Binzo to send her there with an excuse, they didn't expect him to tell the young girl that Tsuji was injured...

• When the young girl came to the door, panting, Shibaman looked at her in surprise, and y/n ran in and stared at Tsuji for a moment, who pouring drinks in the kitchen.

• "Why are you standing here?" "Huh?"

• When Y/n explained the situation, they both said they just wanted to surprise her and asked her brother to send her...

• When Y/n entered the living room, she smiled at the colorful cream cake on the table and the text "We love you babe" they tried to write on it.

• When the young girl looked the table silently for a while, the duo got a little scared.They thought she didn't like it.Y/n, on the other hand, was trying to hold back her tears because she was touched.

• When she turned to them and they saw her eyes filled with tears, they panicked but y/n said she was just so happy and they both smiled

• While Shibaman hugged her and mocked her, Tsuji laughed and joined them in their hug.

• Surprisingly she thought the cake was delicious but still made a few little jokes

• No one could be happier than her right now, sitting between her two big boys and watching a silly romantic drama excitedly under the blanket.

• Tsuji and Shiba, on the other hand, were quite pleased with the smile on her face.

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx @satraninalane

#high and low #high&low #high and low fic #hnl #high and low the worst #high and low the worst x #oya high #oyakoh #oya high school #high and low suzuran #suzuran binzo #high and low tsuji #tsuji x reader #tsuji & shibaman #tsuji and shibaman #high and low shibaman #shibaman x reader

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house-of-slayterr · 1 year

Note

I thought this would be so cute so it's y/ns birthday and david wanted to do something special for them but somehow his plan got ruined by the boys eating their cake and then they played a prank on y/n that went too far and made them cry so david take that opportunity to make them feel better

Birthday Disaster!

David’s POV:

The boys and I had long past given up on birthdays. It’s not like they mattered much when you were immortal anyways. And Paul and Marko never needed an excuse to party. They were pointless.

At least that’s what I thought before I met them. Our Human. My human. They somehow made life feel so simple, yet so complicated all at once. They were an enigma, one you couldn’t pry your eyes away from.

Birthdays where Important for two reasons. Human lives were fragile. Nearly everything could hurt them, kill them. I was in a constant battle of worry so every birthday we got to see was a blessing. A reminder that they really were meant to be ours and weren’t going anywhere.

But more importantly, each birthday brought them closer to their promise to us. Just three more and they would join us, stand by my side for the rest of our lives. Sure, it was selfish to preserve my excitement for my own reasons, but I couldn’t help it.

Today marked two more birthdays until they would turn. And I tried to make each human birthday more special than the last. It wasn’t hard when Marko and Paul were like excited puppy’s ready to please their every whim. They would go out of their way for our mate for the smallest things.

The boys had decorated the cave and Dwayne picked out some music. But I was in charge of the most important part. Getting the cake. It was an easy task really, I had an ongoing deal with the baker in town. He was a paranoid old man convinced the rival bakery was trying to steal his secret recipe. I said I’d “watch” the store if he gave me a free cake for my partners birthday every year.

This year I decided to theme the cake around their current favourite character. They were always talking about it, that even Paul started to remember details about it. I asked him, not so kindly, to not smoke tonight at the party unless Y/N gave the ok. He could get even more rowdy when he was high. And that could be a lot for any vampire, let alone a human.

Dwayne was tasked with keeping and eye on him and Marko. So I was beyond livid when I escorted our mate back to the cave for their surprise party, and their cake was nowhere in sight. And neither was Dwayne.

I could sense the other two still in the cave. Y/N may not be able to hear their faint laughter but I could.

“This looks amazing babe” y/n complimented.

I gave them a lazy smile, not trying to bring their attention to the missing cake. I guided them over to the couch when I saw a slight pout on their face, making up a quick lie.

“They must be out getting some last minuet gifts for you doll, you know how they are. Always procrastinating.”

I almost felt my heart flutter when I heard them chuckle. It quickly became one of my favourite sounds after meeting them. And right now I wanted to keep their spirits up. They’d had a long day celebrating with the humans, but I knew they much preferred our smaller parties.

I was furious by the time Dwayne came back to the cave with Laddie, they’d missed like half the party and I still had no cake for our Mate. I pulled him to the side, harshly whispering out of earshot of our human.

“Where the hell were you?” I grit out.

“Laddie got spooked by the thunder and ran off, Star and I were out looking for him. He wasn’t in any of the usual spots.”

I sighed. I couldn’t be mad at him for that. He loved that boy more than anything, we all did. And our kitten would be even more upset if something happened to laddie on their birthday.

“The two idiots did something to the cake while you were gone, but they’re being cowards and won’t come out. Our mate is starting to get sad nobodies here for their birthday, and I think they’ve noticed the missing cake I promised them. This is a disaster Dwyane. I swear I’m gonna kill them-“

He looked almost as furious as I did. Their pranks were typically harmless, but this one wasn’t in good taste. Pun fully NOT intended.

My heart nearly stopped again when I heard faint crying upon re-entering the cave. Followed by the rambling of Marko and Paul apologising profusely. Christ, what have they done now.

“Out!”

I shouted.

The three of them jumped, and I felt bad, but Dwayne could deal with those two right now. I simply pointed to the cave entrance and they hung their heads and left with a few more muttered apologies.

I quickly moved in to scoop up our baby, holding them closely to my chest while they cried. I was never good with words like Dwayne was in moments like this, so I just rocked them, petting their hair softly which seemed to work.

When the sniffling lightened I looked down at them, trying to give my best smile.

“Wanna go for a drive, doll?”

They could never resist a midnight ride under the moon. That would give the boys enough time to fix the party before I got back. Or they’d have hell to pay, those hunters will be the least of their worries…

An: I’m so sorry if this is bad, I haven’t written in so long I feel rusty. I gotta get back into it but seasonal depression is kicking my arse! 😭 Got that writers block hard core right now and I want it to stop!

PS: Doll and Kitten and neutral here, I never use those as gendered terms….

#the lost boys #david the lost boys #paul tlb #dwyane tlb #mark tlb #tlb x reader #the lost boys x reader #vampire mate #soulmates #polycule #poly lost boys x reader #fang writes

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skelavender · 3 months

Text

“What do you think, Scully?” He inquires. “You were right.” His smile spreads across his face slowly, and he drops his head to let out a relieved chuckle before looking back at her. “Well there’s something you don’t say to me often. It’s the house?” She nods, “Yeah, Mulder, it’s the house.”

read chapter four of shelter on ao3, or below the cut! plus, bonus content over here!

March 1996

When Scully gets to her apartment after a hair appointment, she’s greeted by the smell of baking bread. Mulder stands in her kitchen, spooning spaghetti into two bowls. He’s wearing a goddamn apron. Scully tries really, really hard not to stare, and even harder not to think about him at the stove wearing nothing but an apron. She fails on both counts.

“What’s all this?”

“Dinner.” He replies simply, “How was the salon?”

“It was fine. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Even I can make pasta, Scully. But the real pièces de résistance,” He opens the oven and lifts out a sheet pan of golden garlic bread, “Is right here.”

“Oh my God, that smells amazing.”

Queequeg yaps in the distance and comes running in from the bedroom to greet Scully. She crouches down to say hello.

“I’m going to walk him, I’ll be right back.” Scully reaches for the wardrobe where the leash hangs.

“I already did.”

“Really?”

“What, that’s so surprising?”

“Well you two aren’t exactly each other’s biggest fans.”

“We have a couple things in common. You, for example. A love of bacon. The occasional hankering for human flesh.”

Scully rolls her eyes and a small laugh, “Well, thank you Mulder. I appreciate it.”

“Have a seat.” Mulder pulls Scully’s usual chair out for her, and she slides into it. He places the bowls on the table, pasta now accompanied by fresh garlic bread.

“Seriously, Mulder, What’s the occasion?”

Mulder gives her his Christmas tree smile, the one that lights up his entire face, the room, the fucking world. He plucks a newspaper out of the pocket of his apron and slides it across the table to her. “I found the house.”

Her eyebrows lift. “The house?”

“The house, Scully. Our house. It’s technically only two beds, but it has a finished basement space that would work as an office.”

“Another basement office?”

He shrugs. “I thought it was poetic.”

She scans the circled listing. He’s right; the house would be perfect for them. Right in their price range, a good neighborhood, two bedrooms and an office space.

Not having taken a bite, Mulder rises from the table, “And the real estate agent emailed me more photos, if I can use your computer.”

“Of course.” She doesn’t even look up from the newspaper. When he indicates he has it pulled up with a “Here, Scully,” she follows him and leans over the screen, hand on the back of the chair.

“You’re gonna love it, Scully, it’s on a quiet road, stained glass on the front door, there’s this detailing on the crown molding I think you’ll like–”

Scully interrupts as she clicks through the photos. “It’s beautiful,” she says breathlessly. She moves her hand from the chair to his shoulder, and he turns to look up at her with that beautiful, bright smile.

“You like it?”

“I love it, Mulder. It’s a little small, but it’s exactly what we need.”

“The real estate agent has time for a tour first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Book it.”

Mulder plucks the phone out of its cradle and dials.

Once the appointment is set for the following day, they settle at the table and tuck into their meals. When Scully takes her first bit of garlic bread, she outright moans. Mulder’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“God, Mulder, where did you learn to bake?” He blushes and turns his head down to focus intently on his plate, but doesn’t respond. “What, is there a story there? An old flame?” She tries to act like her stomach doesn’t twist at the concept of him making her another girl’s garlic bread recipe.

He laughs lightly and twirls his pasta, “Oh yeah, Scully. Older woman, short, brunette.” He finally looks up at her. “Your mom taught me. When you were gone.”

“Oh.” Scully’s a little taken aback by this. “I didn’t know you two were… that close. Neither of you have mentioned it.”

“I mean, we don’t have weekly phone calls or anything. But I think having someone else around who loved you was really helpful for the both of us.”

Scully feels a little but like she’s been stabbed, as if Mulder’s words have taken a physical form and sliced through her flesh. His tone is affectionate, but the pain from their implication is ice cold.

It's easy, sometimes, to forget that he grieved for her. Her mother too. She would rather not have to think about her chair empty in their office, of whichever one of them let themselves in to water her plants, of a gravestone that was engraved but never laid. She doesn’t want to think of either of them in that kind of pain.

“So she taught you to bake?”

Mulder nods, “At first she started showing up with casseroles and stuff. I think someone from your church must have set up one of those dinner trains, but didn’t take into account that she’s one person so they sent too much. I felt like everything was out of my control, and she had me knead the bread when I came over for dinner once, and it was something that I could control.” He takes in a shaky breath, “I think she needed someone to take care of, since she couldn't take care of you. And I certainly needed it.”

“I’m sorry I put you two through that, Mulder. I’m glad you had each other.”

He huffs, “Don’t apologize for that, Scully. It’s not your fault. You were abducted.”

Scully gives him a very sincere look and nods, biting her lip, and returns her eyes to her plate. After a couple more moments of eating in silence, Scully speaks. “I don’t suppose she gave you her pot roast recipe too? Bill and I have been trying to get that out of her for years.”

Mulder laughs. “No, just the bread. Don’t go expecting Christmas cookies or birthday cakes, Scully, that’s beyond my capabilities.”

After they’ve both had their fill, Mulder convinces Scully to leave the dishes for later and relax on the couch. He flips the channel to Jeopardy, which is just starting.

“C’mon, Scully” Mulder says when she settles next to him, pulling her lightly until her head is in his lap and she’s laid out longways across the couch. She complies. “Remember when we came across that man in black who was Alex Trebeck’s doppelganger?”

“No I don’t, Mulder, because as far as I’m concerned, you snuck into my room without being invited,” she teases.

“Scully, I swear to god, they looked exactly alike.”

“Alright, honey.” She pats his leg affectionately.

Onscreen, Alex Trebek reads out the category names. When he gets to the last one, and announces it as “The ‘Ex’ Files,” Scully sits up in shock.

“Did he just–”

“Yes.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“Okay, Mulder, I concede. There is a slight possibility that Alex Trebeck is a man in black.”

***

The first thing that catches Scully’s eye, unsurprisingly, is the stained glass window on the front door. It’s floral, cast in pinks, purples, and greens, and contrasting the dark wood of the door and porch.

As soon as she steps inside, she can see it. She knows then that it was the right house. A domestic scene blooms before her. She can see her couch in the living space, Mulder’s round table near the kitchen, right under another stained glass window, this one of a bee. She can see books stacked on the counters, case files spread on the coffee table as she sits on the floor inspecting them, with Mulder behind her laying across the couch. She can see their future. The one she wants them to have together.

When she turns to look at Mulder, he’s already looking at her, like if he inspects her expression close enough he can tell exactly what domestic fantasies are playing out in her head. Maybe he can.

Something rises up in Scully’s chest. It’s safety, it’s rightness, it’s comfort. And it’s all Mulder.

“What do you think, Scully?” He inquires.

“You were right.”

His smile spreads across his face slowly, and he drops his head to let out a relieved chuckle before looking back at her. “Well there’s something you don’t say to me often. It’s the house?”

She nods, “Yeah, Mulder, it’s the house.”

They come together in an embrace, and Mulder drops a kiss to her head. She tightens her arms around his waist.

“I hate to interrupt,” The real estate agent interjects, “But it sounds like you two want to put in an offer?”

They don’t even separate to respond. Mulder’s voice is rough with emotion when he says “Yes.”

***

Mulder does the paperwork for once in his life, and miraculously, the house is theirs a month later. Mulder informs Scully of this fact by waltzing into the office and dropping a ring with two keys onto the file on the desk in front of her.

She looks up at him and raises a single eyebrow in confusion. “What’s this?”

“Your set of house keys.”

“Already? How?”

“I know a guy who knows a guy.” Mulder takes a seat on the desk. “Do you want to play hooky and go visit?”

“You’ve already missed hours of work, Mulder–”

“C’mon, Scully, live a little. It’s not every day you buy a house.”

She bites at her lip, trying to prevent the smile from forming, but he knows he has her. He grabs the keys and her hand and pulls her out of the office, a peel of laughter trailing after them.

By the time Mulder pulls into the driveway, their driveway, Scully’s smile is uncontrollable, beaming. He resists the urge to ask if he can carry her over the threshold.

Scully steps into the main room and turns slowly, taking in the space. It’s even more gorgeous than the first time they visited. When she faces Mulder again, a giggle bursts from her and she leans toward him.

“We have a house.” She reaches out to him, “Mulder, we own a house.” He gathers her in his arms and lifts her up, matching her joy.

With Scully in his arms, the moment shifts from bubbly to tender. “We have a house.” He mumbles into the seam of her neck and shoulder as he clings to her body. He sets her back on the ground, wary of her death-trap heels. When he stands back up straight, his gaze falls on her parted lips before drifting to her eyes. It's then that he notices her own eyes are squarely on his lips.

For a brief moment, he wonders if she’s going to kiss him. To take her hands where they now lay on the back of his neck and guide his face down to hers. He wonders how their height difference would change things, having only ever kissed her in the car where it was reduced. He would beg to find out, beg for her to kiss him.

She doesn’t. She shifts her hands to the sides of his face and rubs her thumbs across his stubble tenderly. This is enough for now. It has to be.

If Mulder looks at the facts on paper, he’s damn successful. He has what just about every man wants; a beautiful wife, with whom he has just bought a home. But with the complexities of real life, what he really has is a partner who hides her ring and a roommate at 34 years old.

But he thinks, sometimes, that he can feel the outline of a them forming. They already are a them in many ways, but recently there have been more moments that spark a glimmer of hope in his chest. Hope that maybe his love is requited, that Scully might feel the same way. But he knows that if something were ever to happen between them, something real and undeniable, it would have to be Scully’s move. She needs to have control over when and how, and he’s absolutely fine with giving it to her. It’ll happen eventually. He can wait. She’s worth it.

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

#fall into place series #the x files #fics #LTW: shelter #LTWrites #.txt

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ode-to-spring · 2 years

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♡⋆.ೃ࿔* BAKING ON A LOVELY FALL'S DAY ~

birthdays are such lovely occasions, are they not? what better day to spend them than with those you love most . . .

ੈ♡ albedo x reader (romantic ahehehe) ੈ♡ category :: fluffffff all fluff & klee's here !! extra fluff ੈ♡ warnings :: none ? unless you dont like cake ig ੈ♡ a/n :: so this was meant to be a birthday gift to both albedo the king & @xiaophobic mylove my life my everything, but it ended up getting finished later than i'd hoped :( so sorry about that, hope you like this nonetheless atlas!!!!

"ah, do you think it would be better to add a bit more sugar? the amount the recipe describes seems too little for the quantity."

sticking his head out of the cookbook in his hands, albedo turned his gaze to you waiting for an answer. in front of him, a bowl filled halfway with ingredients for his new so-called-project sat on the kitchen coutertop, alongside a neatly placed wooden spoon conveniently set right beside it.

"of course we can! you can never have too much sweetness!" an excited voice chirped from his side, klee enthusiastically attempting to grab the pouch of sugar beside him. "please, pretty please? it's gonna taste better, i promise!"

you couldn't help but chuckle at the amusing sight infront of you-- siblings alike gently arguing over how much "sweetness" klee could take before getting a toothache-- but your attention was divided more than you'd wished it was. unsurprisingly to you, at the very least, the sight if your lover sunkissed under the morning sun was proving itself to be very distracting.

for starters, his hair was out of his normal braid-- instead fashioned in a neat bun to get his bangs out of his eyes while he worked. on his face, there had somehow managed to be bits of flour spread across, likely from how klee managed to make the largest mess with the dry ingredients earlier. he wore a simple black apron too, stained with various ingredients from recent messes, yes, but it was endearing to see how it fit his lean form perfectly ontop of pajamas he hadn't even changed out of yet.

what brought you back into the moment was a long, exasperated sigh from albedo, whose lips you might have been staring at a bit too intently, his head turning towards you in a silent plea to help him out with klee's antics.

"i think the batter should be done by now, the oven should be ready too." it wasn't surprising that he'd treat a simple cake making session as if it were one of his high end experiments, truly. you knew he was a man of precision with an eye for detail, so it wasn't at all surprising that he'd take this with equal seriousness as well. maybe if klee hadn't tagged along upon hearing that desserts would be involved, maybe the kitchen wouldn't be the horrible mess it is at the moment.

before you knew it, albedo was walking towards you, klee in his arms and face still flour-coated. he planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and whispered to you with the most lovestruck expression that no artist, not even him, would be able to portray on any canvas, "i want to make this cake perfect for you. you deserve nothing but the best, so let me do this for you, yes?"

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stellar-constellations · 8 months

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"Christmas isn't in July?!"

Writer! Fem! (Y/N) x Flower shop owner! Tanjirou

Prompt from a prompt generator: "A owns a flower shop and one day B comes in. B slaps 20 bucks onto the counter and then asks "How do I passive-agressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" and A bursts out laughing before making a bouquet for B"

The Kamado family was famous for their bakery’s fresh bread and flowers. The eldest son took over the bakery not too long ago and helped make a huge profit out of the family business with their diplomatic advertising and their delicious recipes.

I became a regular customer soon after their eldest son took over. Their mother and sister tends to the garden growing organically grown flowers of many different varieties.

I figured that I needed to go outside instead of being cooped up in my bedroom all day writing as I multitasked from looking out the window and at half-typed page that I haven’t touched in 20 minutes. I quickly grabbed my keys and locked the apartment, deciding to leave and go get coffee. I took my laptop too in case I randomly get hit with inspiration or a idea as I spend an hour curled up on the side of some poor owner’s wall typing away at my keyboard (don’t ask why that was so detailed).

It didn’t matter that I was in my pajamas and my hair was a little messy from just waking up 2 hours ago (it also didn’t help that I didn’t brush my hair when I woke up either). But that’s fine, lots of people go to places with coffee while looking like they got hit by semi-trucks. Besides, with a gamble of my luck, my hair might just fix itself.

I walked into the shop, noticing instantly that I was the only customer. The bell rang as I entered, walking up to the cash register and observing the menu. I’ve never been here before but I’ve heard of it from a friend or two. They said the place was really good but looking around this place looks absolutely deserted.

Maybe I should call up one of my friends to see if they want to stay here with me, this place is a little creepy alone. I thought. Actually, never mind, I wouldn’t get any work done that way.

The sacrifices of being an anti-social writer I must make. Sacrifice my work or my comfort? I decided on my comfort, especially after I made eye-contact with a boy who started walking to the cash register from out of the kitchen door. If I leave now, I’ll feel guilty.

“Hello! What can I get started for you today?” the boy asked cheerfully.

Chill, it’s only 3 p.m. right now… I thought, not quite enjoying his energetic persona.

“Um…the raspberry lemonade?” I smiled nervously.

I just realized that I don’t know how to explain what a Carmel Macchiato from Starbucks is so the boy could copy it nor did I realize how attractive the male was until he got closer.

I suddenly felt self-conscious of my morning appearance as I started fiddling with my fingers and shirt as he typed the order down.

“Anything else?” he questioned.

I quickly looked at the menu, noticing the flower menu. I looked at it confused. His gaze followed mine as he smiled.

“The flower menu? My mother and sister works on the garden in the greenhouse outside. The flowers are organically grown with no pesticides or chemicals so their all natural.” The boy explained. “They’re really pretty and great for gifts! I can explain the flower language for you if you want.”

“Um, okay… I’ll have a vase and a white-pink orchid.” I answered.

“Great choice! Did you know orchids have different meanings such as luxury, wealth, fertility, good fortune, and abundance?” he explained excitedly.

I felt a smile creep onto my face as his contagious energy got to me.

“I didn't know that. I’m getting the flower so I can get good luck to being productive today—fingers crossed.” I smiled and crossed my fingers to liven my words.

He smiled back. “Well, in that case, allow me to give you my own fortune.”

Before I could ask him what he meant he disappeared behind the doors and didn’t come back until a few minutes. I waited semi-patiently as I looked around the small yet homey shop.

I saw small heads peek out from behind the counter, easily being able to figure out that it was the other Kamado siblings. I looked at them nervously, unsure what to do as they stared at me curiously. Do they not think I can see them?

I settled on smiling shy and awkwardly as I waved at them. They smiled, giggling as they scattered outside in excited and speaking in childish voices I couldn't understand.

I smiled slightly, well at least I made them laugh. The boy said soon came back from the back of the store with a vase filled with white-pink orchids.

"Here you go!" he smiled, placing the flower pot gently on the counter.

"Uh...I said one..." I mumbled awkwardly as I thought about how much that would be in total if I got them all.

I'll admit, it looks prettier with all the flowers together but I don't plan on spending 30 bucks for flowers and lemonade for myself.

"I said I'll give you my fortune, didn't I?" he spoke gently, causing my heart strings to be pulled. "I was originally going to give you an extra but it seems my siblings wanted you to have more." He chuckled nervously as four heads popped out behind him in sync.

"W-what!? I didn't give her one!" one of the kids shouted, his face going red.

"Yeah, you did! Don't you lie, Takeo!" a young girl said.

"Besides, even the dullest flower can bloom the brightest with another's touch." The eldest smiled.

I smiled back nervously. "W-well... thank you for thinking of me?" I commented.

"The flowers are free." He smiled, reading my mind as he got straight to the point.

"Free? You don't gotta, I can pay." I spoke, flabbergasted.

"No, no! I insist! Though the lemonade you'll be paying for." The boy chuckled nervously.

"Way to be a gentleman..." The young sister spoke sarcastically, puffing out her cheeks and giving her brother a disapproving glare.

"Lady killer...and not in a good way." The tsundere brother teased as he placed his hands behind his head.

I giggled, seeing the playful sibling banter between them.

"You're all siblings, right? I heard this bakery was family owned." I asked, making small talk as I grabbed my wallet from my pocket.

"Yes. I'm Tanjirou Kamado, the new owner. These are my siblings, Hanako, Takeo, Shigeru, and Rokuta. My other sister is out back along with my mother." The boy, Tanjirou, explained.

"I'm Y/N. You're the new owner, huh? How has that been treating you?" I questioned, trying to last the conversation as I slid him 20 bucks.

"It's very exhausting..." he physically deflated, causing his youngest brother, Rokuta, to poke him and giggle. "Oh. The lemonade was two dollars." Tanjirou explained.

"Consider it a thank you for the flowers and your hospitality." I smiled as I picked up my flower pot. "You think I could hang here for some time? I have some work to do on my computer and I love your bakery's atmosphere; it's calm and it'll help me think." I spoke.

He smiled excitedly and nodded. "Stay for as long as you like; we don't mind!"

That was the first time I met Tanjirou. Who knew my work would lead me to becoming friends with a locally famous baker? His bakery has now expanded and is now located a bit further from my apartment, yet I make an effort to try and get there every day. Whenever I skip a day, I'm greeted with kids huddled around me as Tanjirou they sulk about how much they missed me.

Tanjirou being Tanjirou, he's turned the bakery into a fundraiser too. Orphaned children and the children's hospital patients come here and hang out to get away from bad news or to enjoy their time with friends. I volunteered to read kid books and family-friendly novels for the children since I'm aware my books aren't exactly kid-friendly.

Tanjirou was absolutely flabbergasted when he found out I was a writer, specifically the new trending writer Y/N (yes it was hilarious watching his face morph from excitement to confusion to embarrassment to guilt to straight up tears of how he didn't figure this out sooner).

For months, I'd come in and help out. On days I didn't help, I'd work on my book or buy flowers. Tanjirou's been studying a whole bunch of flower language to try and figure out flower facts I don't know so he can impress me explain the meanings in more depth, but I believe it's endearing. Throughout our journey of getting to know each other, I've found myself to be slowly falling for him.

"I need blue hydrangeas, some white lilies, and iris!" I explained in a rush as I ran up to the counter.

"For your father? It's Father's Day! Did you know hydrangeas represent gratitude, grace, family, and beauty? And white lilies mean purity, innocence, rebirth, and caring. And Iris represents love and trust." Tanjirou explained.

"Yes! I'm aware! Thank you!" I smiled, tapping my foot anxiously. "And I'm late to dinner!" I cried out.

"Oh! Oh no!" Tanjirou exclaimed. "I'll get your flowers right away!" he ran quickly, getting my flowers in just a few minutes.

I slammed money down on the counter, not bothering to check the amount as I ran out towards the door.

"Good luck! Tell your dad I said hi!" he screamed.

Yeah, my dad doesn't like you but I'll tell him.

Other encounters went like this.

�� I slammed 40 bucks on the counter and looked at him Tanjirou irritated. "Give me the most hateful and rudest bouquet you can make while the flowers look pretty!" I huffed out.

"U-um...what happened? If you don't mind me asking." Tanjirou questioned, nervously.

"I'm going to a party with my friends and we're doing Secret Santas. Unfortunately, my friend gave me my ex as the person I'm going to be gifting." I explained, glaring at the counter. "And I don't like them but I want it to be passive-aggressive." I smiled. "And, I'm petty."

"Um...okay." He laughed nervously, disappearing out back.

He came back and handed me a bouquet.

"Geraniums represent stupidity, foxglove represents insincerity, meadowsweet represents uselessness, yellow carnations represent 'you have disappointed me', and orange lilies represent hatred." Tanjirou explained.

"One more thing." I slammed another 40 bucks on the counter, this time more gently. "Give me a whole bunch of lavender, pink bluebells, peonies, roses, and red chrysanthemum." He gave me an extremely confused look yet agreed.

He came back with the flowers and looked at me confused. "I thought you said you hated your ex?" Tanjirou questioned.

"Yeah? Well, happy birthday and I love you." I blurted out, handing him back the love bouquet as I grabbed the hate bouquet and ran.

"Thanks? But wait! Christmas isn't in July?!" Tanjirou exclaimed.

"The flowers are for you!" I shouted, before shutting the bakery door and racing out of the apartment, ignoring the smile present on my face.

Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist

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