#I even didn’t eat for a few days or had like half an instant noodle a day bc I was short on money and didn’t want to take it from my family

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #arranged marriage #i'm in my jjk phase bye

[harmlesspotato20]

BLLK | Ego Jinpachi - the man you made.

❝┋ ego jinpachi x levi! reader

Anri was so surprised , shocked , aghast , amazed , astonished stunned, horrified , you say it when she found out the vector looks slender man has a wife. After first she thought he Ego was fooling her for April fools but surprise , surprise! it's not even April.

Anri was like : Him? This guy? This fucking emo had a wife? that too soo beautiful. Jinpachi Ego was watching the soccer clips when Ari came in to see him room all dark and few cups of noodles lying around.

She sighed knowing how this guy was and was concerned for his health. That's when she saw Ego eating food , a homemade food - not junk with rainbow and stars around him , happily. Well not that his expression read but his aura tells otherwise. 

So naturally she assumed Ego bought it from a good restaurant due to it's good smell that even made her hungry. "When did you go out and buy it?" she asked , hands on her hip. She wasn't angry. She was at least relaxed that he ate other than cup noodles.

"My wifey gave it." Ego let him tongue slip. Well not that he cared. He was busy enjoying his dear food. That's when the red haired girl heard the door swing open as she looked back to see a short yet beautiful woman.

"Oh.. good morning darling." Ego calmly greeted despite the mess in his room. 

Almost at the height of 5'2 or '3 , with your resting bitch face , you made your way towards your husband and gave him your tea. You made him tea everyday. and Ego never denied it. He loved it. When you ask him how's it he would reply like, "acceptable." making you mad.

"Don't 'good morning' me Jin, I swear to god , four eyes , if you don't help me clean after this , I'm throwing football on your face." your cold voice said as you placed two tea on his desk and swiped out under the table with your finger.

"Tsk , look at the dust!" you showed him your finger. "Oh.." He looked you straight in the eyes under his glasses and turned around like nothing happened. "Agh.." you started tying your hair to clean the room when Ego interrupted you.

"Don't stress yourself darling , Anri-chan will clean it." Ego nonchalantly said it in a calm and relaxed manner making Anri turn angry as irk mark appeared on her forehead. Did he fucking think that she is his maid?! how dare this man!?

"I'll be leaving now , excuse me..." Anri said a sadistic smile at Ego and left the room giving the couple privacy. "Tch , she isn't your babysitter to clean your shit up. be a man and get off!!"! you pulled Ego's hands after he finished eating.

He groaned and just pulled you into his lap , making you sit on him. "Jin.." you muttered death glaring at him. You looked at his face and saw how he changed over time. You you both met at sports college , this man had no idea of romance. Same goes to you.

When he classmates asked him if he had a crush on someone , he would be like what's crush? new instant noodle brand? But everything changed when you had to clean up the sports room. 2 members of any team would be assigned randomly to do the fair task.

And that fine day it was Jinpachi Ego and Y/N Ackerman. You both didn't even know each other but you would scold him for lazing around and not cleaning it properly. In a weird way , it caught his attention. He learnt that you were from combat sport team.

Just like a fucking weirdo , he would never talk to you directly or approach you but just stare at you. Just sit and stareeeee. Jinpachi was not that dumb head , he knew half of the male population in his college like you for your physical appearance.

And he knew how you would reject them like a cruel princess what everyone termed it to be. One lucky day , he saw you watching his football team practice. It was like girls verses boys. Your eyes were fixed on a female who played so good.

She was Mikasa Ackerman. It wouldn't take a genius to find out that she was related to you looking at both your last names. Junpachi paused for a moment. Why was he thinking about you do deeply?

His teammates said that he liked you. Like? what's that? Look Jinpachi hardly had any friends due to his personality clashing against those teen souls. But he had few good people around him though.

At the same evening , he saw you teaching your cousin — Mikasa to play football. The new good tricks you taught to you , as you demonstrated first and sending the spherical black and white ball to goal.

And oh boy , man fell in love , —deep , fell for you hook, line and sinker. This was not one-sided attraction no. When watching the match your eyes would glance at the black haired male named Ego. That day accidently you heard him give a big ass speech about strikers to his coach.

And that day you discovered , his love for football. This aroused your curiosity. Ego being fucking weirdo did nothing but stared at you in lunch when he heart thumped against his chest. You were fed up and walked near his table where he sat alone.

"Oi brat." you called him making him look at you and pause. You showed him 2 packet of cup noodles in your hand. "Want to eat together?" you asked. And that day my friends ,  Ego fell again. He had zero facial expression but his ears were red.

You both start spending your lunches and cleaning together. He slowly started helping you in cleaning too. You looked at his eyes , dark black and void. You complimented his eyes looking like a mysterious cosmic. And he fell again , thrice.

The first time he saw you smile was when you saw convenient cleaning goods. He notices how you always seems like you don't care with Hanji but you do. You were far from cold and uncaring person.

You would glare at a fanboy or girl or tsk you way away if something was unsanitary. Would be so shut off and cold with everyone except your one friend Hanji. People call you selfish and rude. A bit tsundere but a total softie inside.

And This skinny yet tall, pale man names ego , was an ambitious and overly confident man. Beneath that ambition however, is something even more sinister as he puts the emphasis in "ego" as he is shown to be an extremely egotistical, cruel, and self-serving man.

He never wastes an opportunity to tell his mates the cold truth about themselves and their reality, either seeping them into further despair or inspiring them with his cold hearted truth. A mean boy. This is the man you met.

Just imagine your college mates lowkey scared of you both and now you are dating. This place about to blow. Two prideful people dating in a room? Nah the tension is making them tremble. Too much to handle.

It was you who confessed first , and was like "Oi you brat , let's go on a date." and yeah you didn't ask but said. Ego agreed and you both would spend your time in ramen shop or library where he just looked at you reading history books.

Neither you or Ego were good with PDA so it was much better in private. You made the first move obviously. And started off with you making him tea and asking him if he ate anything and holding hands when you just real books.

You would give a quick peck on his cheek and run away. You both dated for almost 9 years and Ego grew more fine with your relationship. He was definitely not that good with his words and actions to show how he loved you but it improved overtime.

He started off with calling you darling. He never said "I love you" in front of you but did when you fall asleep , he would kiss your forehead and be with you. He knows how light sleeper you are and helps you with it with just caressing his thumb over your knuckles to calm you down.

Ego somehow managed to get his shit together and propose to you. You were so polite and quite. And just said "only if you help me clean and drink tea with me everyday" Ego took it as a yes. Ego works almost all the time and barely gets a chance to spend with you.

"Did you get sleep darling?" Ego asked looking into game clips as your head rested on his shoulder. "Yes." you answered , you did sleep for two hours. Better than nothing. Ego looked at your face as saw you almost tired from all the work you do.

"I see." he nodded placing his one hand on top of your head and other holding your waist. With or without conversation, you're still the only one Ego wants. He kissed the crown of your head , holding your head softly like a fragile glass.

He looked down again to see you almost asleep. You eye lids edging to close and when it did he heard your soft little snored and your body going unconscious in his hold. He knew how you insist him to take rest.

He switched off his systems and placed his head on top of yours. Ego rubbed your shoulder in comfort and whispered watching you sleep. "Sleep well my darling..."  And this is the man you made. 

the end.  please don’t mind the grammar mistakes. original post : my Wattpad account. 

#ego jinpachi #bluelock #blue lock anri #ego #levi #blue lock oneshots #bllk oneshot #isagi #bachira #nagi

[fusionlads]

I asked my friend what they wanted to ask, and for some reason they asked about takeout?? idk lol, what are all the fusions favorite restaurants? Can the fusions even eat in the first place?

Kiwo: Oh, definitely! They have pretty much all the same bodily functions as us regular humans, along with their extra abilities. Fusions, especially the larger ones, and their components actually have really high metabolisms because fusing and using their powers consumes a lot of energy. It can be hard to keep up with, which is why Seán hired Max on.

Max: My office is the kitchen. Not really, I do have a desk in the actual office, but I spend a lot more time in the kitchen. Cooking, keeping the cupboards stocked, hiding my nice pans from Daian… It’s not half bad, really. As long as I keep everybody’s nutritional needs in mind, I can pick the menu myself, and it’s nice to have room to experiment and try new things when I feel like it. Not that I mind taking requests, I do want everyone to enjoy the food I make. If only some people appreciated my efforts a little more and didn’t make instant noodles at three in the morning instead of heating up the leftovers I put my heart and soul into—

Kiwo: Anyway, we’ve gotten off track of the actual question. We’ll let the fusions answer for themselves about their favorite places to eat.

Keviel: Sushi! I heard Dan used to live in Japan and really loved the food there, so I’ve tried lots of Japanese food to see what it’s like. I’m actually better than Kiwo at using chopsticks now, haha. Oh, and me and Breán sometimes get margherita pizza together, apparently that’s Kevin’s favorite kind.

Breán: I’d eat pizza every day if these bastards would let me. Why? ‘Cause pizza’s good, what the fuck else do you want?

Danthi: I don’t eat out much, my job keeps me busy in the evenings. Starbucks is probably the only place I go regularly.

Seániel: I’m quite fond of seafood myself. Though sometimes the others make annoying jokes about crab cannibalism because of my limbs, ugh. Sit-down restaurants can be nice, but we don’t do that a lot. Our outings tend to be, uh, disruptive, to say the least, and we’ve been banned from a few places. Besides, it seems a waste when we have our own chef at the compound. Max works hard for us, and I don’t want to take him for granted.

Seáthi: Okay, picture this. McDonald’s, but the whole menu. Brivin: Hell yeah. Seáthi: Nuggie heaven. Brivin: Definitely one of your best ideas. And there’s nothing like the look on the cashier’s face when you roll up and ask for one of everything.

Kevthi: I like those all-you-can-eat places. Sometimes they lie and make you leave before you’re done, though.

Braniel: Waffle House, because they don’t get fucking NOSY and kick you out for stupid things like fistfights in the parking lot. It’s the only good advice Seáthi’s ever had. …I guess I kinda like that cat cafe downtown, too, but it’s not like people go there for the food.

Seávin: Oh, I could absolutely live off Taco Bell alone. Just bury me in cheesy roll-ups. It’s just a shame they don’t have milkshakes to dip them in.

Daian: Any place that gives real metal silverware and doesn’t ask where it went afterward. Stainless steel is the most common, but I prefer the flavor of sterling silver. Especially plated over an alloy like copper.

#tw food #irish lads #irish lads au #fusion au #kiwo #maxispio #call me kevin #rtgame #terroriser #jacksepticeye #daithi de nogla #ask #lore #max #keviel #brean #danthi #seaniel #seathi #brivin #kevthi #braniel #seavin #daian #for context remember that kevthi is fourteen feet tall #seathi and brivin in their natural dumbass state #also bringing back daian the metal eating menace

[siodium]

i’m back from my 5-day bangkok trip!! double firsts for me bc i’ve never gone on a non-escorted vacation nor have i gone overseas with frens before so this was all very new and exciting

one of the highlights of the trip was the shopping so i’m gonna start with a haul post~

here’s a list of stuffs i got:

this isn’t something i got from bangkok but!! a halloween pumpkaboo from the pokecen at changi when i came back bc hOW COULD I RESIST... i love his derpy face and lil pumpkin wand aaaa

miniature pastries, pineapple fried rice (rip one part broke off but i glued it back already) and mango sticky rice from this stall at the indoor floating market at ICONSIAM!! they had so many miniature stuff and i regret not having enough to buy the whole stall ㅜㅜ i was actually gonna get some dessert platters but then i happened to find some thai specialties?? ofc i had to get those!! there were other food like chili shrimp rice and durian sticky rice?? but i didn’t get those cuz i don’t think chi would eat them hmm

snackos from 7-11s i haven’t tried any of them but they’re all seafood stuff?? except the miso butter instant noodles?? i hope they’re not spicy

seashells from pattaya beach :x i have no idea if this is allowed but ummMm no thoughts, just pretty conches

a little wooden fork!! got it from a store called PEYLAA that kinda looks like a miniso O: it was super cheap (like only a few cents??) and i wanted one to go with the wooden plate that i got from shopee~ the colour doesn’t match completely but i think it works

food print boxers from a stall at chatuchak!! they’re from a popular brand called toogton?? i’m so happy to own a pair of cheese shorts lmaoo

the most expensive purchase: nature of love shirt from gentlewoman (1790THB wew)~ i rly wasn’t expecting to buy anything from a luxury brand but this shirt caught my eye and it’s so cute slasjdklaj the candy-like colour scheme is rly my aesthetic and!! two functional pockets?? amazing

crochet beachwear from a stall near pattaya beach uwu the pastel tassels are so cute and the shorts remind me of a sheep

floral skirts from jodd fairs and chatuchak!! i’ve been wanting to get some floral skirts so i’m glad to find ones with nice prints during my trip

meep meep that we won from a shooting game at the pattaya sheep farm heheh i kinda wanna put it at my work desk bc i have no decor atm

forbidden candy beaded mask strap and necklace bc they look tasty oqo yes i know what you are thinking... this clown bought a mask strap when the government is lifting the mask mandate... well it’ll come in handy some day right??

i got a pair of black work pants and a pair of casual baggy khaki(??) pants at chatuchak i think they’re neat and pretty comfy but my only regret is not snapping a photo of how the model wore the brown pants with the tie string (not pictured) oof i have no idea how to tie it

blue checkered two-piece swimsuit!! i don’t even swim as often anymore cuz of covid rip but i wanted to get a new swimsuit bc my old one feels a bit tight :// i like the style of high waisted bottoms

last but not least a pair of fluffy shibe socks from rinrin~ very toastyy

i exchanged 350SGD for 9000THB but i feel like i didn’t rly spend that much on shopping?? maybe like half the amount?? idk i was so sleep deprived throughout the entire trip my brain did not want to do any mental arithmetics

i’m also gonna put up a list of Stuff I Regret Not Buying

yooO i always do the thing where i hesitate when i see something Nice bc i think that i’ll be able to find something better in the future?? and then i don’t find anything cheaper or better wehhh i need to stop doing that when i’m travelling bc there’s no guarantee we’ll go back for stuffs i’m “thinking about”

a colourful lobster fanny pack from kloset supermarket... i wanted to find a replacement for my current one that’s looking kinda gross but i hesitated when i saw this one on the first day bc it was on the pricier side and i didn’t wanna spend a huge chunk of my money on the first day :-((

ikea fanny pack that i saw at chatuchak?? was hoping to find it at another market for a cheaper price but i never did

a mint green lounge set from frank garcon :// this one is more of a price regret bc the set costed around 40SGD and the quality was rly nice but if u try to find something similar in sg it’d probably cost at least 60SGD??

the miniatures from the stall at ICONSIAM’s indoor floating market......

do i regret not getting a matching wooden spoon to go with my wooden plate and fork?? maybe

the many crop tops that i gave a miss bc i thought they were too expensive wehhh but the quality was pretty good?? the fabric was actually quite thicc sighh there was a sheep one and a croissant one )):

the Extra Salty Peanut pass case that i saw at daddy and the muscle academy?? it was like 16SGD tho

salasjldsaj i don’t wanna think about it anymore!! i had a gr8 time shopping and i don’t wanna think about my regrets!! i’m already salty enough!!! anyway i just wanted a list of things i missed out on so that if i get to go back in the near future i’d like to grab them then (hopefully with less hesitation)

.

.

.

that’s all for now~

i can’t wait for this month’s paycheck bc i’m brOKE ;-)) still gotta get p5r at least when it releases at the end of this month oof

gonna take my time with editing and posting the rest of the pics bc i need to pay off my expensive sleep debt zzz i barely slept at all since the beginning of the trip ㅜㅜ never been so happy to see my bed again

also guess whose youtrip card still hasn’t arrived?? the app still has the audacity to send me useless notifications >:-((

edit (09/10/2022):

i tried the seaweed fish roll and it tasted like the dried cuttlefish snack that came in either a sheet or strips!! couldn’t rly taste the seaweed flavour but i like it!! should’ve gotten more lol

#log #i did so much shopping in bangkok but i still wanna shop after i'm back home lmao #retail therapy let's gO!!!

[levi-ish]

Breakfast and Runaways | Eren

Your company was your priority. Dating wasn't in your plan. Nothing could change that, not even one night of partying. Right?

Pairing: Eren x reader

Genre: [+18] CEO!reader, employee!Eren

Warnings: rough sex, mentions of abuse, use of alcohol and drugs.

A/N: this will be a short story, I have just read a lot of modern!setting erens but never seen him as an employee to the reader. so I wrote it. also, dont mind me recycling my old fics titles, they were just too good to go to waste. hope you enjoy <3

AO3

Masterlist

Fuck old people.

What do they actually do for society? They drive slowly, stop walking in the middle of your way, and worst of all, they think you actually owe them something.

And now, watching that wrinkly, bald, chapped-lip grandpa with his disgusting frown as he spoke so lowly of you, you kept on repeating a calming mantra, praying to whatever god was up there that you could keep your patience. And you did. Maybe you should go back to church, maybe cook a turkey as offering or something.

“Yes, Mr. Zackly” you spoke softly, maintaining the serious and understanding expression you always held during these meetings. A quick sign of your hands was enough to make your secretary open the folder in her hands and place a few sheets on top of the table, hanging there for each chairman.­ “I understand where you’re coming from, I just don’t see how the appeal from the public eye would change anything in this business. Our numbers are great, we’ve managed to keep it under the budget every year, everyone’s got their bonuses, we are known and wanted.”

The man threw both the men sitting by his sides a sarcastic look and crossed his arms in front of his face, resting his chin on top of his fat fingers.

“You are a very bright woman, Ms. Reader, you’ve managed—”

“Earned” you corrected him.

“Managed to grow this company and make your little girls dream come true” he kept on talking, you could see the spit falling on top of his beard as you tried your best not to let your disgust show, “but I’m just being realistic. For this company to go global, you’d need more approval than just us… the buyers, the sellers, the sponsors, they are used to seeing… other kinds of CEOs.”

“And what would you mean by that?” you clicked your tongue, not feeling like entertaining the calmness in your expression anymore.

“Well, Ms. Reader, I see our conversation isn’t reaching any points. We’ve talked about this part before, maybe it’s time for you to give it another thought. Enjoy your celebrations!”

Yeah, you knew exactly what he was referring to.

He wanted you to give your company away. The same company you built from the ground, saving every penny ever since you were just fifteen and working three part-time jobs, sweating yourself and almost passing out from exhaustion every now and then. The same company you battled with your teeth and nails to keep it on the ground, making sure everyone were getting paid and satisfaction from their jobs, even if it meant you would be back home with only half a packet of instant noodles to eat the day. The same company that you put heart and soul in, and you just couldn’t.

Fuck money, you didn’t want that. You just had a thirst for working hard and earning something of your own; something you could call your own, your publishing company. And now some old fuck was telling you that you should get married to someone to take over your place as CEO. Disgusting.

Dude, he even offered his nephew, as if you weren’t going to notice how bad he wanted to run your company for you.

And that’s how you ended up in that place now, drunk to the bone as you danced your legs off with a bottle of whiskey on your hand, swinging just as smoothly as your hips to the beat of the throwback songs playing so loud you could barely hear your thoughts — as if you had anything else going through your mind.

“Oh holy fuck” Sasha screamed, her hands falling to her exposed thighs that were almost glistening from the sweat from all the dancing. “Gotta take a break! Let’s go to the bar!”

“Yes, please!” Mikasa brushed her bangs from her face and you all retreated to the crowded bar, pushing your way through a bunch of drunken bodies as if they weren’t anything.

You leaned onto the countertop on your elbows, not caring to brush the hair away from your face, not minding one bit how you looked. Sasha started waving her hand around, trying to get the bartenders attention and failing miserably as he was rushing between orders.

“Hey!” She kept on screaming but her voice just fell into the void. “Fucking hell, I just want booze”

“Calm down Sash” Mikasa placed one of her hands on top of the other girl’s shoulder, clearly too buzzed herself. “He’ll get here soon— HEY!”

The man passed through you and started taking the orders from people from the other side of the counter.

You took a swig of your whiskey and passed the bottle to Sasha and she took the last sip, putting it in front of her as other bartender passed by to grab it and put it away, not stopping to take her order. She stood there in disbelief. “I give up.”

A drunken laugh fell from your lips as you turned around, leaning on your back and eyes wandering around. Your goal tonight was to get fucked up and get fucked. It was new years eve after all, so it shouldn’t be that hard to achieve that, in fact—

“Those gentleman over there offered you girls this bottle” the bartender came by and put it in front of you and three shot glasses.

You frowned and leaned back, trying to find the guys he was talking about, only to set your eyes on a deep and alluring set of emerald ones. You offered him a smirk as you turned to cheer with your girls, opening the new bottle of Don Julio and pouring it for you to take a shot. You, Sasha and Mikasa didn’t even mind who it came from, it was free booze, a free bottle of booze. And the good kind. Expensive

“Fuck old men” you cheered as you raised your cup.

“Yesss, get a sugar daddy!” Sasha screamed.

“That’s not what she meant” Mikasa corrected her, downing her own shot.

“Holy shit, came down burning like a fucking forest fire” Sasha put her tongue out and waved at it, as if to soften the acidic taste.

The booze from the adrenaline and the newly taken shot started to rush trough your body as you let a sigh fall from your mouth, holding the bottle so no smarty-pants would try and take it from you. You were so deep in trance of the alcohol that took it a whole minute for you to notice that Mikasa and Sasha were hugging some people in front of you, and the fact that you knew some of them.

“Oh my god, guys, when did you get here?” Sasha screamed as she put her arm around some guy’s shoulders, he had a buzz cut and clear hazel eyes and a deep flush stamped on his face as if he was already way pass his drinking limit.

“Jean suggested it earlier, so we came down to celebrate” Armin, your head of the HR tried to talk louder than the noise, and you had to lean closer so you could hear him.

“Don’t file a complaint” you winked as you downed another shot straight from the bottle, going to lean back as your back felt a warm body right behind you.

You looked up to find the same pair of emerald eyes, now burning a hole into you as you offered him a smile.

“And who are you?” You raised the bottle to your mouth as he took it from your hands and took a shot himself.

“Eren” he simply said, as if the information didn’t matter at all. He had his chestnut hair in a low bun, effortlessly put up as if he didn’t mind the way it looked, and he was right. He was attractive enough for people to care how his hair stood. He also smelled citric, almost like tangerines and lime.

Bingo.

“Where’s Jean?” Mikasa looked around, not minding the other two’s presence.

“Probably fixing his hair for the fifth time” Connie said and Sasha fell into laughter.

“You all know each other?” You asked, trying to move your attention from the Greek god that stood so close to you that you could almost smell his scent.

“Mikasa grew up with them” Sasha pointed at Armin and the man by your side. “The rest of us met at college.”

“Funny, I haven’t seen any of you before” you found it quite odd. Even though you transferred to Shiganshina Uni on your junior year, you’d never seen Connie or Eren around.

“Thank god, you didn’t have to deal with those airheads” Sasha let the remark fall and Connie gave her a push. “Ouch, fucker.”

You turned around, already feeling the green eyes burning in his presence, and a warm feeling was starting to pool deep in your stomach.

“Wanna dance, Eren?” He just nodded and you two went to the dance floor, sneaking in the crowd.

Seconds, minutes, hours passed and you didn’t even know what time it was until people from the bar started counting down. You were too busy grinding on this fine piece of man, swaying your hips with his as his hands roamed your body, feeling like turning into a puddle as he pushed your hair back to fit his face in your neck, giving hot kisses that made you melt under his touch.

5. You turned around, hands falling from his neck to his chest.

4. He stared deep into your eyes as you raised your bottle and took a swig of it.

3. You offered him a shot and he took it, eyes never breaking contact.

2. You licked your lips as one of your hands found its place behind his neck.

1. His hands were burning hot on the naked back of your dress.

As the ball dropped and the crowd fell crazy, you pulled him by the collar of his black shirt, lips finding each other in a feverish kiss, holding him by the long strands that fell of his low bun, not caring if you were making a mess of his hair, just wanting to satisfy all your needs and forget the frustrations that crept in the back of your mind.

And fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing, playing with your hair as his tongue found yours, exploring limits and feeling too hot for the crowded atmosphere around. Everyone was already long forgotten, and there were only you two standing in that oasis you built yourself. You kissed him as if he was the last cup of water in the world and he returned with the energy of marking you as his, almost animalistic, eager to get out of there.

That’s how you found yourself now in the bathroom, locking it so no one else could enter and dress riding up to your waist as you leaned on the mirror, his hands holding your hips still on the marbled counter, you were soaked up, not caring if you were going to make a mess out of your dress. His fingers worked on unbuttoning the black shirt and revealing a fit chest that made you gasp.

It’s not fair how some people seemed to be sculped by the gods. He was a fucking Michelangelo’s piece, but standing right in front of you.

You lowered your hand to run down the bumps of his abs until you found the happy trail, going lower and lower, enjoying how his chest was rising with his quick breaths, too excited with the control you held over him.

That was, until, in a quick move, he took your wrists and pinned them over your head, mouth falling to your neck and leaving hot, messy kisses all over your skin and the way his breath fanned over each of the marks he left made you tremble. Even more when his fingers were dangerously dancing on top of your inner thighs.

His mouth left your neck and you sighed, frustrated of not being touched for even a second, and he rose to your face to give you a quick peck, teeth holding your lower lip in between them as he gave you another one of his deep stares, going straight down to his knees.

“Hey, I— oh shit” you were going to complain until he left a slow, lingering hot kiss on top of your panties, and you felt like you were going to die right then and there.

He took his time after pushing it to the side, giving you slow licks as his thumb fell on your clit, massaging it and making you jump from the feeling every now and then. Every time he did something right, the fucker knew it, so he kept on the smug smile as his eyes fell on yours and you pulled on his chocolatey locks to make him shut the attitude, pushing him further into your cunt.

You threw your head back, banging on the mirror but not minding the pain because Eren’s fingers were already diving inside you, making your grip on his hard so hard that you could almost sweat he moaned.

“Aww, how cute, you enjoyed that?” You teased, having trouble to make sense in your words.

He lightly bit your clit, making you wince and kick him in the back with the heel that hadn’t fell yet.

He giggled as he curved the fingers inside you to reach your g-spot quicker, putting a lot of stimulation there. You almost had to bite your hand to contain your screams, and the man seemed to notice the muffled moaning happening, so he stood slowly, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from your mouth and came so close to your face that his nose bumped into yours.

“Lemme hear ‘ya” it was all he said while his fingers kept on working wonders inside you, and now you let yourself free, moans coming out loud, knowing that it would be hard for anyone to hear from the outside, as the partying was way louder than any sounds you could make.

He stayed there, breath fanning over your mouth as you stared with dazed eyes, fucked dumb just from his digits and the smug smile came back, almost making you want to slap him just as much as you wanted him to slap you.

A whimper fell from your mouth as he retreated his hand, and you gave him a confused look. “Wha— I was almost there!”

“Want you to cum on my cock” he simply said, as if it was nothing.

No fucking way. Little shit.

Your grip on his hair tightened and you pulled his head back, leaning over to his ear, whispering: “you don’t make the rules here, pretty boy.”

“Yea?” He leaned back, taking hold of your other wrist, putting it away from his hair. “And who does? You?”

An intense expression washed over your face as you tilted your head to the side, grabbing the same tequila bottle that was almost empty by your side, almost forgotten on top of beige marble.

“Wouldn’t you like to know that?” You said softly, taking a swig of the alcohol and giving it to him.

Your fingertip bumped his nose as your other hand freed itself from his grip, running lower and lower on his chest, until you found the bulge that formed under the layers of clothing that you wished he had gotten rid of already. You caught the way he tensed under your touch and took liberty to tighten your grip on him, licking your lips as he took a shot.

You quickly undid his buttons and the zipper, hand fishing under his boxers as you kept the eye contact, knowing that it taking a brick from the tension wall you were building would make it all crumble down, and you liked that power of having him on your fingertips. Figurative and literally.

Just from the touch, you could take notes on how thick and big he was, his cock falling hot and heavy on your palm as you gave a few teasing tugs, rubbing the pad of your thumb over his slit, knowing that you were doing a good job from the small gasps and whimpers that fell from his mouth. More like they escaped, because he seemed flustered when he noticed that you were eating him up — in one bite.

As if in a battle for control, he took the backs of your thighs and pushed them back, the movement so sudden that you withdrew your hand and he took that as an opportunity to free his cock and go for your lips again. It was a quick kiss this time, but by the end of it, you could swear that he spat in your mouth, and by the way he held a hand in front of your face, you were sure that that’s what he really wanted. So you spat on it too and watched how he covered his length in both of your saliva.

It was a hot sight to see, you weren’t gonna lie.

He held his cock lined up to your pussy and you were just praying that he would fucking move already, and the other hand was raised to your neck, holding part of your jaw and slowly moving to the center of your throat, giving it a light squeeze.

“Fucking move!” You whined and he rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on your neck as he bottomed out so quick that you let a scream escape.

Both of your hands found place on the back of his neck, playing with the hairs on his nape and pulling some so hard that his hair tie fell somewhere on the floor. Neither of you cared, as you were busy enjoying the way his tip met your cervix with each hard thrust.

His dick felt too good inside you, even if there was a small burning by your walls from the size of it, but you enveloped him so good that stopping wasn’t an option. Your mind was empty, no thoughts on sight, not even a kilometer away, and you were fine with that. That moment you didn’t think of stress, you didn’t care to be perfect, you didn’t care about the old fuckers that wanted you to give all your hard work away. You didn’t care. That was priceless for you.

“Holy shiiiit—you’re fucking me so good” you whined as your face found a spot in his neck, biting the skin without noticing, wanting any type of adrenaline rush that you could get.

“You like that, huh?” He said in almost a whisper, breathless and so were you. “Let’s see how much you can take.”

His hand fell to where your bodies met, running down your navel to your clit once more, rubbing it slow, taking his time to savor the way you were moaning so pretty in his ear, taking every word you babbled out every now and then.

“That-that’s all you c-can do?” You tried to tease, almost failing as you stuttered between words. He took it as a challenge though, going slightly faster each thrust.

You watched the way he went all back until there was just his tip inside you just to thrust his whole length inside you, slamming the back of your thighs with his thick ones. Small whimpers fell from your mouth and you leaned back, malice sparkling in your eyes as you pretended to yawn.

“Why are you going easy on me?” You said, leaning on top of the sink as you let your spine rest on the mirror, but your eyes stayed on his.

Oh boy, how you would regret it later.

His grip tightened on your throat once more, now choking you for a few seconds before letting go.

“Fucking slut” he leaned closer to your face, pinching your cheeks so your mouth would open, and he let his spit fall on top of your tongue as you swallowed it with a wicked smile on your lips. “You can’t take it.”

“Oh, I know I can” your smile grew larger.

Guess what, you couldn’t.

His hand slammed your face to the side, your cheek colliding with the coldness of the mirror as he thrusted even harder, his fingers digging into your clit as he rolled the thumb in light speed.

You definitely couldn’t take it.

Now you were screaming, putty under his touch and whatever trace of the teasing act was now gone to never be seen again, hips moving on their own to meet his quicker, missing every millisecond his dick was gone until it met with your insides again. Your walls seemed to have molded around him, a perfect place for his cock and only his cock.

This stranger ruined sex for you.

You slipped under his touch and grabbed his face against yours, mouths barely touching as you made him swallow your moans, fucked dumb to the point that non coherent words were falling from your lips, things that rushed past your mind and you were vocalizing, not minding how loud or scandalous you were being. You only cared to find your release that built up from each slap of thighs.

“Let me—fuck—make me… Oh gooood, cum inside!” You repeated those words again and again, hoping that it would make him go even faster if it was even possible.

His hand rested on your cheek and you held his wrist with both hands, guiding his thumb into your mouth and sucking it viciously, sloppy and messy, and giving him a whole show to enjoy, content with the effect you had on him.

“Gonna fill you up” he said mid-moan, and you let his thumb go with a soft bite to the flesh.

You guided his head to rest on your neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go harder, the remaining heel fell from your foot as you moved with him, just as fast, wanting to reach your high.

He was now groaning louder and louder, you could almost swear you head a moan here and there, and you learned that he wasn’t shy to be vocal; it was pretty hot. As he came closer and closer to the climax, he craved his teeth in your shoulder, forcing a scream out of you. You took the chance to dig your fingernails even deeper into his skin, letting them dance around with scratches, making this man your territory for the night.

Soon enough, his movements fell sloppy on you and the hot feeling inside your walls grew hotter with the coloring of his seed, marking you his territory for the night.

[…]

Fucking stop screaming, you begged for the birds to stop with all the noise.

You woke up with the worst headache you ever had, face down on a plush pillow and feeling a light breeze on the back of your thighs. A soft smell of tangerines and lime invaded your nose. Your eyes opened slowly and quickly closed, noticing how bright it was in the room.

But I have blackout blinds…?

You sat instantly, looking around to notice that it wasn’t your bed, neither your room. Looking down, you found yourself in a Black Sabbath shirt that smelled like men’s perfume and definitely didn’t belong to you. On the floor, you could see your red high heels thrown around and your purse just by their side, so you jumped from the bed and quickly fell to the floor as your knees gave up.

The fuck?

You crawled to your purse and searched for your phone inside, only to find it with only 18% of battery and a lot of missed calls. Most of them from Mikasa.

“Shit, shit, shit” you muttered to yourself as you dialed her number, sitting down on the carpet and covering your eyes from the sunlight. “Hey, Meeks, what’s up?”

“Are you getting here?” She asked and you frowned.

“Getting where?” That’s when you remembered, you had work.

Who even had that dumb idea? Oh yea, the fucking old men from the board. The same ones that didn’t celebrate New Year’s Eve, they probably fell asleep watching the ball drop and disappointed their wives by not being able to get their dicks up.

It wasn’t even a real day of work, it was just a day where you would give a half-assed speech of orientation to the new employees and spend the rest of your day in your office approving deals and shit.

“Fuck, I totally forgot” you said to yourself, but Mikasa heard. You checked the time; 8:14AM. You’d slept only two hours.

“Just get here, Zackly is hanging around and I’ve already used the excuse of your car breaking too many time.”

She hang up and you sighed, trying to make a mental to-do list so you could organize yourself. What’s first, what’s first…

You grabbed your purse and heels, stripping from the black shirt and folding it on top of the bad, now looking around for your underwear and quickly redressing yourself. You put the dress back on and snuck out, looking back and forth the hallway to see if there was any chance of bumping into unwanted people. Shoes in hand to avoid any clicking noises, you rushed to what you guessed was the door of the apartment, only to find a shirtless man standing in the middle of the living area, a cereal bowl in his hands and a shocked look in his eyes.

“Who are you?” You asked and he frowned. He had light brown hair in a mullet hairstyle and a faint stubble growing down his jaw. His hazel eyes followed your movements.

“Excuse me?” He pointed at you. “I live here. Who are you?”

“Sorry, did we… hm…”

“If we slept together?” He sat down on the couch. “Nah, you’d remember if we did. You were with Eren.”

You were confused, the name was familiar but you couldn’t quite remember much.

“Also, maybe tune it down a little next time, it was hard to sleep through the screams.”

You felt a deep flush rush to your face and you shook your head.

“Sorry, also, I’m late, thanks for the stay or something” you babbled as you pointed at the door. “Gotta go.”

He nodded and you left, putting your heels back on as soon as you reached the elevator.

It wasn’t hard to find an uber, but the prices were way up from the events, and it almost felt like a deep stab to pay 40 bucks for a ride. You decided to go straight to work, knowing that there was a change of clothes in your office, and going back home to shower would take longer, and you didn’t want to give Zackly the satisfaction.

You quickly jumped from the car and rushed to the backdoor, knowing you wouldn’t meet anyone else in your way, so you quickly sneaked into your office and changed into a deep grey blazer with a matching skirt, keeping the same heels on. Walking on them were somewhat a challenge, since your feet hurt and your back was killing you from the night before.

You also didn’t remember much asides from fucking in the bathroom, fucking in the apartment, fucking in the shower, fucking in the bed again, fucking in the counter, and a whole bunch of fucking to add to the list.

Your memory was starting to clear and more images from the night before flooded your mind, how good you felt as skin slapped against skin, as he choked you until you begged for more, every little whimper and groan, all added to the whole package and making heat pool once more in—

For fucks sake, stop it!

“Oh god, you look like hell” said Mikasa standing behind your half-opened door, staring you up and down.

“Please, don’t remind me” you pointed as you went inside your private bathroom, washing your face with cold water, craving a cup of black coffee.

“I hate whoever had the idea of putting us to work today” she pinched her nose as she came in, sitting on your brown couch.

“I hate Sasha for not having to come in today” it was true, not a lot of you had to work that morning, Sasha was the head of marketing, so she didn’t actually need to come.

You and Mikasa on the other hand…

She must’ve been pretty mad that you made her CFO, now.

“Gosh, I feel worse than I look” you stared at your own image in the mirror, the messy makeup and hair all over the place, a frown painting your brows as you tried your best to conceal it.

“Ah, I’d almost forgot” she said from where she was and you gave her a look over the shoulder. “We hired the editor last week. He’ll show up today, but…”

“Great!” You interrupted her. “When’s he coming?”

“With all the new employees, by 10. Also…”

“Sorry, Meeks” you jumped out of the bathroom. “I really need some black coffee before speaking with Zackly. Talk later, alright?”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded, leaving probably to her own office as you found the spare charger and plugged your phone in it.

A quick trip to the kitchen and you found Armin there, standing like an angel from above as he brewed the coffee. Thank god for this guy.

“You’re my salvation” you said as you approached him, grabbing your mug from the cabinet and putting it in front of him to serve.

“Rough night?” He asked and you gave him an exhausted sigh, rushing the mug to your mouth without caring about burning your tongue or the bitterness. He stared dumbfounded, but quickly dismissed it.

“You know you didn’t have to come, right?” You looked over the rim of the mug and he nodded.

“Yea, but my friend is coming in today, and I wanted to give him support.”

“Your friend?” You questioned, not because of curiosity, but to make small talk. Anything was better than actually thinking. It almost hurt to use your brain.

“Mhm” he poured himself a cup, but grabbed the sugar, unlike you. “Oh, you met him—”

“Ms. Reader” a voice came from the entrance and you felt sick to the stomach, throwing away all the prayers of not having to meet that man that early in the morning. “A word?”

Armin gave you a sympathetic look and you walked away, pointing at your office as Zackly followed you. He took the liberty to already sit his fat ass on your expensive chairs and you threw your body on your own, the other side of your desk.

“How was New Year’s?” He asked and you gave him a fake smile.

“Just fine” you nodded. “How was yours?”

“Had some wine with steak with a few friends from the golf club” he said and you had to hold in the roll of your eyes at each pretentious word that fell from his dry lips.

“Must’ve been great then” you kept on the fake smile and turned on your computer.

“But that’s not why I came here to talk” he kept on going. Of course. “I know you’re pretty resistant on the idea of choosing someone to fall under the CEO title…”

“Because it’s my title. I worked hard for it” you stated, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Still, it’s not as if you wouldn’t be doing the same work as before, it’s just a title, now.” He shook his head. “But that’s not why I’m here, again. We’ve got a buyer.”

You frowned, confused. “A buyer… for what?”

“For the company.”

Disbelief was shown all over your face, you didn’t know where this man got that much courage to bring up so much non-sense to you, and still believe that he was doing a brilliant thing. The nerve of him.

“Are you kidding me?”

He frowned himself. “No, why would I joke about a serious matter?”

“So, what you’re saying is that I should sell the company I built, and that have no financial problems whatsoever, just because you didn’t get your way?”

“Actually, it would be an amazing thing. If we sell it, you’d still earn accordingly and maybe join the board of directors if you want it so bad.”

“You must be kidding me” you muttered to yourself, pinching your nose as the headache crept in once again.

“You should think of what’s good for the company, not for you. Think of it as your child, wouldn’t you want it to grow the best it could? If we sell, Paradis Publisher could go global!”

You shook your head; a small giggle fell from your laugh. Soon enough, it turned into a whole belly laughter and you couldn’t contain yourself. A lot of pent-up anger and frustration took over you and you must had been looking like the Joker by now.

“Fucking get out of my office” you said mid-laughter, not caring about what else he had to say about your phrasing.

He tried to snap back, but your laughter grew louder and louder, and soon enough, you were crying. Crying from being still half-drunk, crying from all the frustration you held against this fucking man, crying from all the stress you accumulated, crying for not having a life of your own. If you had to say what was your lowest point, you would definitely mark this one.

Couldn’t get any worse.

You stood from your chair, grabbed your purse and went straight out, following almost robotically a path to outside the building, just wanting to buy some cigarettes and maybe some vodka to cure the hangover with another one.

As you stepped outside, though, you bumped into someone, a hard chest and a familiar scent, something like… tangerines and lime.

Your stomach twisted in its place as you stepped back, only to find a set of emerald eyes staring back at you, quite in shock, and so were you, too focused on staying composed as life hit you with its worst karma. Was it because you didn’t pay your park tickets last week? Was it because you dropped your niece once? Was it because you broke Sasha’s vase and blamed it on her dog?

You’d to have been a fucking criminal in your past life, and paying for all your doings in this one.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he held your shoulders, balancing you and you tried your best to get out of your shock state.

No. Fucking. Way.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you decided that things could actually get worse as your stomach twisted and turned and all the remnants of the coffee you’d just drank were now painting his shoes.

#eren jeager #eren x reader #eren smut #aot #attack on titan #ceo!reader #employee!eren #smut #romance #headcanon #mikasa ackerman #jean kirstein #shingeki no kyojin #sasha braus #armin arlert

[luvnami]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou​ @amjustagirl​ (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist. 

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet. 

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip.  He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week. 

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?” 

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders. 

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?” 

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward. 

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?” 

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know. 

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow. 

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds. 

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second. 

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to- 

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry. 

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp. 

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants. 

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though. 

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat. 

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat. 

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up. 

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!” 

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch. 

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled. 

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag? 

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold. 

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest. 

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality. 

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.  

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry? 

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked. 

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?” 

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled. 

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it. 

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided. 

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know! 

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable. 

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy. 

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over. 

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff. 

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his. 

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them. 

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully. 

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!” 

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time. 

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together. 

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say. 

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again. 

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies. 

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron. 

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree. 

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved. 

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed. 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes. 

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?” 

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger. 

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order. 

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway. 

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself. 

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!” 

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!” 

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years. 

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight. 

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it. 

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.

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[skellebonez]

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2…1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #gen fic #actor au #ensemble cast #shadowpeach #(hinted) #scheduled

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian:

#19 days #19 days headcannons #19 days hc #tianshan #mo guan shan #he tian #zhanyi #jian yi #zhan zheng xi #am i procrastinating updating my fics and 19 days socmed au by posting random 19 days stuff? #yes yes i am #old xian

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

~

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

~

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

~

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #roommate!jungkook #roommate au!jungkook #bts fic #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #my writing #fic: may 31 #may 31

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

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#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

[angstyaches]

Space

From 🍄 anon after I basically begged for angsty requests:

hello flick, if you want to write hunger with little to no comfort,,,,, consider this,,,, shayne,,,, not letting himself eat back when he still lived with madeline and watson,,, and not telling charlie,,, because he doesn’t want to worry him,,,,

This is closer to a whump fic than a hurt/comfort fic, so be warned. Also, just a reminder, these OCs are 19-20ish at the time. Shayne gets a little comfort, just not the right kind.

CW: emotional whump, disordered eating, low self-esteem, hunger with pain and affecting cognitive function, little/no comfort, psychological abuse.

___

He woke for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, groaning as he took in the appearance of his room. He sluggishly rolled over, frowning in the direction of the little clock that sat on top of his set of drawers.

5:35am. An acceptable time to give up on sleep.

He sat up slowly, trying to gauge how much he could move without making himself dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, the stray ends of sleep disappearing and leaving a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a hand over the pain, frowning when he felt his stomach rumble under his palm.

Maybe that’s what had been keeping him from sleeping.

Are you hungry, Shayne?

A shiver ripped up his spine. He stood up, shaking his head to chase out the phantom voice; he couldn’t deal with the Madelyn in his head, especially not while she was also in the house with him.

He tried to remember what he’d eaten recently. He’d been shaky after school yesterday, and he’d tried to eat a cup of instant noodles, but he’d only managed a few mouthfuls before starting to feel nauseous, and the cup had ended up in the bin along with most of its contents. Before that, he’d had a granola bar for breakfast, and before that –

No, wait, the granola bar hadn’t been yesterday. It’d been the day before that. It was definitely that week, for sure…

He swallowed, wondering if he should have breakfast today. It was always a gamble; he never knew when Watson or Madelyn would expect him to work, and it was always much messier and more painful when he had food in his system.

Not to mention that food always came with a side helping of judgment in this house.

He took his time getting ready, though there was little to relish about the morning. He crossed the dark hallway to the bathroom, took his usual lukewarm shower and brushed his teeth, towel-dried his hair, put on the grey-and-navy uniform that would keep him relatively invisible for most of the day.

In this house, though, it was impossible to stay invisible.

Madelyn was in the hallway as he made his way downstairs with his backpack. His stomach dropped, her gaze making the hairs on his forearms prickle. He quickly tugged his sleeves down from his elbows to hide the goosebumps that sprung up.

“Morning, Mads.”

“Good morning,” she snapped, eyeing him up and down as he stood, silent, on the last step, gripping the handrail. She had piercing amber eyes and dark, silky hair that fell to her waist when loose. That morning, she’d twisted it into an elaborate structure at the nape of her neck.

Shayne shrugged his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. “Do… Do you need me for anything?”

She scoffed at that, eyes turning away from him. “If it were possible to prove yourself useful this morning, don’t you think I would have already informed you?”

He nodded. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Could you tell me what time you’ll be home after school today?”

Shayne swallowed, only hesitating for a second. “Five o’clock. As soon as the bus gets in…”

“You have no… plans?”

He shook his head. There was no way he’d let Charlie rope him into hanging out at the Mulberry house, not while he was feeling so weak and drained. Even worse, he’d probably be offered dinner if he showed up there.

At just the vague thought of food, his stomach shifted and let off a low growl. He quickly crossed his arms, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat at the same time. With her heightened senses, Madelyn surely heard it, but she didn’t react beyond narrowing her glare.

“Nothing?” she asked. “We’ve seen so little of you recently.”

Shayne shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Do you need me for something then?”

“Full of questions this morning, hmm?” Madelyn shook her head and took a step towards the kitchen. “Just be home when you say you’re going to be home. Otherwise, you know… I’ll have to send Watson out to find you again.”

A chill rolled down Shayne’s back as he watched her step out of his way. It was vague, but it was a threat, not just to him, but to Charlie and his parents. He bit into his cheek, hot streaks of anger flashing through his head and tightening the muscles in his chest.

Madelyn raised her eyebrows. She didn’t quite gesture towards the front door, but it felt like an instruction to leave. He stormed past her and out the front door, letting it slam behind himself in what instantly felt like the pettiest form of rebellion ever.

He spun around and lifted both his middle fingers towards the door; Madelyn had several supernatural abilities, but seeing through doors wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck you,” he mouthed silently, with enough force that he might as well have screamed it. He took several steps backwards before he turned to face the road, proceeding like a zombie beneath the rain-dampened trees.

His hands felt funny. He lifted them slightly and frowned when he found he couldn’t hold them steady. He crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, taking gulps of air into his lungs to try to calm himself.

But even when he managed to tame the fiery, hateful anger, he was still shaking. The centre of his stomach ached as waves of hunger weaved back and forth inside of him. As the rusted sign for the bus stop came into view, its edges seemed to blur, and the road tipped to the side.

Shayne freed one hand from under his own arm and pressed it to his mouth, wondering for a second if he was going to be sick. Instead, it was just a shallow burp that rolled up, churning his stomach and making it growl violently.

“Mm. Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He glanced down the empty road, checking that the bus wasn’t arriving just yet. He held a hand over his stomach, pushing against it and rubbing harshly, hoping to coax the growls out before he was surrounded by other students. He realised he’d forgotten to fill his water bottle before leaving the house, so he couldn’t even get some liquid into his stomach to shut it up. He’d need to remember to go to the water fountain before his first class.

As the bus crested the hill, he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. He always wondered what he looked like to the students looking out the bus windows. He’d never figured out how to hold himself in a way that seemed natural.

The bus driver didn’t even bother to look at him, which was normal. Shayne glared at a first-year student who was staring at him while whispering something to his friend. He was used to hearing himself being talked about, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He already hated that he took up physical space; he could barely stand the idea that he also took up residence in people’s minds.

He walked until he reached the seat where Charlie was sitting, staring down at some loose sheets covered in notes while wearing in-ear headphones. He looked up after a few seconds, breaking into an easy smile.

Fuck. That smile. It usually pissed him off so much that he would just look away whenever it popped up on Charlie’s face, but for some reason, Shayne found it hard not to stare this morning.

“You want to sit?” Charlie asked, pulling out his headphones.

Shayne swallowed, unable to bring himself to nod. Charlie’s backpack was in the seat next to him. It would need to be moved if he was going to sit down.

You take up so much fucking space –

Without even waiting for an answer, Charlie pulled the backpack towards himself, propping it on his lap.

The hollow space inside of Shayne throbbed, ached.

You're like a black hole.

"Go ahead," Charlie urged him, nodding to the free seat.

Shayne swayed a bit, though he could pass it off as though the motion of the bus had caused it. He held in a groan and sat down next to Charlie. He shoved his backpack down between his feet. He was tempted to just let his head rest against the back of the seat in front of him. The bus had only been in motion for a few minutes, but he was already light-headed again.

A flutter of panic hit his chest as he realised Charlie had said something else, and he’d missed it.

“What?” he asked, slumping back in his seat.

“I said, ‘how are you?’” Charlie shrugged, still wearing that smile. “You okay?”

Shayne nodded briskly, glad that Charlie provided him with an adjective that he could lie and agree to. It saved him having to fabricate a lie himself.

“You?” he asked, feeling secure in the knowledge that anyone – including Charlie – could easily be distracted if they were coaxed into talking about themselves.

“Yeah, I’m…” Charlie sighed, glancing at his notes. “I’m half-dead this morning. Just hoping my coffee kicks in before second class, for the history test.”

As a fun kick to the ribs when he was already down, Shayne had forgotten about the test. He’d also likely forgotten every word of their history textbook. His found it hard to concentrate these days, and everything that passed in front of his face seemed to dissolve somewhere between his eyeballs and his brain.

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fuck. Charlie had wasted no time in swinging the focus back towards Shayne.

Shayne felt his heart start to pound, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He hated this. He wished he’d found somewhere else to sit. He missed the days when nobody gave a shit, nobody asked him questions like how he was or if he was feeling okay. He’d blacked out in art class the previous term, and nobody had even noticed; they’d all just assumed he’d put his head down to go to sleep.

And yet, Charlie… Charlie saw him.

He wondered what would happen if he told him the truth. If he said that he was scared and ashamed to eat anything, that he was so hungry his stomach hurt, that this was still so much better than the alternatives...

Shayne glared at the back of the seat in front of him, hating himself for even considering burdening Charlie with all of that. Charlie was staring, still waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t exactly look worried yet. One advantage of being a miserable bastard was that Shayne didn’t have to put up an exhausting, cheerful façade.

“Kind of tired,” he said finally.

“Okay." Charlie frowned. "Well, I’m going to read over my notes a few more times, but if you’re really tired, I’ve been told my shoulder makes a good pillow.”

Shayne blinked with genuine incomprehension. The words didn’t stick in his brain long enough for him to dissect them; all he could really focus on was trying to breathe in time with the hunger pangs fluctuating in his stomach. He could usually keep it relatively quiet that way, but being this close to Charlie was making him even more anxious than usual.

“What?” he mumbled.

Charlie’s eyelashes fluttered as he broke into another smile, his gaze flicking away from Shayne’s. “Um, you can sleep on my shoulder, if you want.”

Shayne scoffed under his breath.

“Or don’t,” Charlie laughed, turning his attention towards his notes. “Whatever.”

Shayne’s gaze wandered towards the paper in Charlie’s hands, skimming over the headings that he’d jotted down in his annoyingly pretty handwriting. The topics sounded vaguely familiar, like he remembered them from a movie he hadn’t watched since he was a toddler. Like he’d last heard them from the other side of a thick veil.

His stomach pinched, and he realised he was hugging his waist again in an attempt to ease the pain and muffle any unwanted noise. He swallowed harshly, glancing from Charlie’s notes to Charlie’s shoulder and remembering his offer.

It was so silly. And yet Shayne wriggled a little closer.

The fabric of Charlie’s jacket was cool, unpleasantly so, against his cheek at first, but he quickly got over it. His head instantly felt better, supported by something solid instead of trying to follow the turns of the bus. Shayne inhaled deeply as his stomach squeezed and his shoulders tensed against the pain. A low grumble began to surface, soft enough that he covered it up with a sigh.

“I know I sound like a broken record,” Charlie said, startling Shayne a bit, since he’d thought he’d gone back to revising. “But… you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Shayne said. The words felt like shards in his throat. He didn’t know – wouldn’t realise for a while yet – why it was getting more and more difficult to bring himself to lie to Charlie.

Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Shayne closed his eyes and continued taking deep, delicate breaths.

#hunger #whump #angst #hunger fic #whump fic #hunger mention #starvation mention #StW Shayne #hurt no comfort #no comfort #hunger writing

[ujiyoongi-world]

warning(s): established relationship!au, gender neutral!reader, questionable eating habits (not ED related), mentions of food

word count: 937

“babe, what does one eat at a christmas party other than eggnog?”

seokjin only sighed heavily in response to your question.

he had planned to go grocery shopping a few days before christmas to avoid the crowds and once you caught wind of it, you pleaded with him to let you follow along. he hesitated but you pulled the adorable puppy eyes which you knew very well would work in your favour.

he wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea but rather, in the relationship, you weren’t the one to do the cooking, it was your boyfriend. of course you would help ever so often but simply said, you don’t even have half the patience needed to cook.

“why cook pasta when you could cook instant noodles?” you asked exasperatedly when seokjin scolded you once he found out you had eaten instant noodles for a week straight. after that, he made sure you at least had a proper meal and would cook you one whenever you hadn’t.

that was the dynamic of your relationship. him being the most patient man on earth and you on the other hand, would scream in anger when a website would take a little longer to load. right now though, you are on very thin ice with the way you’ve been asking questions all day.

he knew, he sure did know very well, that you would be bored out of your mind as you waited for him to choose the seasonings (cause god forbid you had any at home besides garlic powder, he bets you didn’t even have salt and pepper).

“babe, how about you give me the list and i’ll go find the other stuff while you, uh, take your time,” you trailed off, not knowing if seokjin was even paying attention as his eyes focused on the shelf in front of him. looking like a kicked puppy, you looked down feeling embarrassed that your question went unnoticed.

“babe, calm down, i heard you. i’m sorry i didn’t respond sooner. just give me a moment and we can together,”

like a dog given a treat, you perked up when he spoke but as his words finally registered in your head, you grumbled.

“but, babe, we can get so much more things done if we split up,”

“haven’t you seen the 100 other movies where that idea went down the drain?”

“that only happens in movies!”

“famous last word said, babe,”

annoyed, you finally let it go knowing you could never win an argument against your strong willed boyfriend. seokjin smirked triumphantly as he placed the seasonings in the cart and moved on. quick to realise he was on the go, you inwardly cheered and followed along with him.

with not much left to buy, the only stuff needed was some vegetables to make some side dishes he planned on making. going to the section that had potatoes, seokjin looked around for the russet potatoes. you stare dumbfoundedly beside him, in awe of the abundant types of potatoes that laid in front of you. a question was at the tip of your tongue but you held back thinking you’ve been a little too annoying thus far.

“i know that look. what is it, babe?”

you smiled as you faced seokjin. your heart filled with warmth at the thought of your boyfriend closely paying attention even to the point he can tell that when you’re holding back. he knows you like the back of his hand and the same for you. so in sync with one another, so attuned to each other's feelings.

“what's the difference between the potatoes? and why does it matter”

pausing in his movements, he took a minute to gather his words to explain it to you, “well russett's are usually better for making stuff like mash potatoes and the like ‘cause their texture is very very soft but if you put them in soup, they wouldn’t be nice cause the water absorbed would ruin the taste and texture of the potato, making them too soft,”

a drawn out ‘oh’ left your lips at his explanation, nodding along with his words. an old couple passing by smiled at the interaction between you and seokjin.

“my dear, look at those two, aren’t they just adorable?”

caught off guard you looked to your boyfriend for help but like the social butterfly he is, seokjin turned to face the elderly couple and thanked them for their words with a smile on his face.

“are you guys spending christmas together?” the pair asked him, while you hid behind, too shy to start a conversation with them. your lover nodded his head happily while wrapping his arm around you trying to bring you forward.

“oh, aren’t you guys just the sweetest? i really hope you both last long,” they said before departing off to another section. you both happily thanked them and went on your way as well.

seokjin noticed you’ve been quiet ever since they got back from the grocer, seeming to wander off too far into your head. after setting all the groceries away, he pulled you aside to ask you what was wrong. with a dopey smile all you said was, “thank you for putting up with me, babe,” with nothing more added on.

too shocked to reply, you took this chance to lean forward and kiss him on the lips. wrapping his arms around you, he leaned forward to give you more kisses. seokjin was glad that the both of you met, and even more glad that you were here in his home, where you’ll be spending christmas together with him.

i hope you enjoyed :D click here for the rest!

#🌤...secret santa! #bts scenarios #bts #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts blurbs #bts soft hours #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x you #seokjin imagine #seokjin drabble #seokjin blurb #seokjin scenarios #seokjin fluff #bts fluff

[supercorpkid]

Aftermath.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.

Word count: 2290.

It’s been an entire week since Lena’s been home. You want to pretend that you’re fine about it, but this is insane. It’s insane, right? You had a really crazy and terrible experience involving none other than Lex freaking Luthor (who’s currently still chilling in his prison cell, probably planning other insane things), and your moms are fighting over Rao knows what.

You’ve been sad all week. And guilty. There’s no amount of ‘this isn’t your fault’ that makes this feeling go away. You just wish you could remember what happened, or at least that you could do something about it. You feel like you’re stuck inside a storm. Waiting for things to just get better already, but everyday you wake up, the sky is grey and your family is broken apart.

You hate how Kara says ‘Lena’, with guilt and pain in her voice. You hate how her eyes are constantly filled with tears. You hate when she says stuff like ‘let’s do things we never got to do’, and eats ice-cream at midnight while watching sad movies, unable to pretend she is unaffected by the whole thing. She should at least fake it, shouldn’t she?

You hate how Lena simply refuses to ask about Kara, even though you can see it in her face that she’s dying to know. You hate that she’s throwing herself into work in a non-healthy way. You hate when she pretends she’s not at all hurt and she just tries to be nonchalant about the fact that she’s not home. She should at least show you that she cares, shouldn’t she?

But the thing that you hate the most is the fact the none of them tell you anything other than that it’s not your fault. You just don’t know what started it all, how bad is it, and how long this is going to last. One thing you know for sure is that this can’t last forever. You can’t handle it.

“Hey.” Maya shakes her hand in front of your face, trying to get you to focus on her. “You cool? You’ve been acting kinda weird all week…” She nuzzles her nose in the crook of your neck, breathing deep. “And I miss your pretty smile.”

“Sorry. Just, um, things are weird at home.” But you still bring her closer hooking one arm around her back.

“I knew this day was coming.” Jamie says, sitting in front of you, on your lunch table. “It was too many ‘almost’. I knew one day you would catch your moms having sex.”

“I wish.” You whisper and they both furrow their brows at you. “I mean, I don’t. Definitely don’t want to see that, but it’s better than where they are right now.”

“They’re fighting? Wanna make them a romantic dinner again?” Jamie asks with a smile and you roll your eyes thinking about the last time you got involved. Things did not end up well.

“They are not.” You sigh. “They had a fight I know nothing about.” You raise one eyebrow at Jamie, who quickly put things together. “Then, Lena never came back home, and she’s staying in a hotel, so-”

“Holy fuck, babe.” Maya straightens up right away to look at you. “That’s messed up. I’m so sorry.”

“They’ll be fine.” Jamie dismisses both of you with her hand. “Honestly, your moms are so in love with each other. And besides, haven’t they gone through, like, way worse stuff in their relationship and totally got over it?”

“I guess.” You shrug, still not convinced. She’s right, they have. But you were never in the middle. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it was my fault.”

“You can’t make two people fight and don’t remember.” Maya says trying to ease your mind, unaware that in your life that’s actually more common than she would think.

“It’ll be fine.” Jamie ends the subject, so none of you spill important information and you try to distract yourself.

You fail.

“Hey, do you want to work on your robotics project today?” Maya asks and you furrow your brows. Wow, you didn’t even remember you had that going on in your life. “It could help you take your mind off… You know.”

Moms fighting and maybe never getting back together? Yeah, you don’t think so.

“Um… Maybe next week.” You shrug. “There’s still time.”

“Well, then maybe we could go to my house and play video game.” Jamie suggests looking at Maya, who shakes her head agreeing. “You can show Maya that game you made.”

“Sounds fun, but I’m really not in the mood.” You sigh and look at them staring at each other, trying to come up with something else. You give them a little smile. “Really guys, I’m fine. I just want to go home and chill with Kara a little. I feel like she needs me.”

“Ok, babe.” Maya kisses your cheek lightly and whispers. “I’m here. You can talk to me if you want, or not talk. I’m still here, ok?”

“Thanks babe.” You smile at her, and then at Jamie on the other side.

“Whatever it’s best for you, little Danvers.” Jamie adds.

Nothing is best for you right now. Except Kara and Lena’s happiness.

And they are definitely not happy. There’s no amount of ‘let’s fly around the house’, ‘let’s build something together in your lab’, from any of them that can fake that. And so if they’re not happy, you are in the same situation.

“You have to clean your bedroom.” Kara says when she opens the door, at night, and you look up from your books. “An alien could be hiding under that absurd amount of clothes in the corner, and you would never know.”

“Let it have a home.” You shrug.

“No, no ‘let it’. Baby.” Kara comes close and holds your hands. “I know you miss your mom, but there’s no reason why we will just stop doing stuff we normally do because of that.”

Tell that to all the showers you’ve been skipping since she was gone. Tell that to the meals you have been skipping all week. Tell that to your sad face.

“So, your bedroom is tidy and clean?” You raise an eyebrow and she lets out a chuckle.

“I love you. Did you know that?” She kisses your hand and smiles. “I’m so glad you exist.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately. Maybe you miss saying that to someone else?” You raise one eyebrow at her, and she gives you an extremely sad smile.

“Same eyebrows move.” She winks at you and you know she’s talking about Lena and how this is literally her move. “Come on, let’s eat something. And you can clean your room before bed.”

“How do you feel having to tell me to clean my room?” You ask, following her to the kitchen and she laughs.

“Like a mother.” She smiles harder at that, and you roll your eyes. She’s such a dork.

Kara goes through the cabinets and fridge to find out that if you two were in an apocalyptic situation, you wouldn’t survive a day with the food in your house. She promises she’ll go grocery shopping the next day (which you only half believe), and you both decide to go with instant noodles.

“So, um, mom texted and she asked me if I wanted to go spend the night at the hotel with her.” You tell Kara while she looks at the boiling water with puzzling eyes. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but I kind of feel sad that she’s all alone there too, and like-”

“You should go.” Kara cuts you off, still interested in the pot in front of her. “Do we put it on now?”

“Are you seriously asking me how to make instant noodles?” You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “Scootch.” You bump your hips on hers, and take control. “So, you’re going to be fine here alone?”

“Of course!” Kara smiles and you look at her to see how real she’s being. You look for any signs of her sadness being too much. You look for watery eyes, pouts, anything. “It’s one night. I’m not a toddler, I can go one night alone.”

“Well…” you think about making fun of her, but you bite your tongue. “I just want to make sure you won’t go ‘sad burrito’ on the couch.”

“I won’t go ‘sad burrito’.” She promises. “I might wrap myself and blankets to watch TV, but I promise not to be sad about it.”

“Maybe you should go to aunt Alex’s house.” You say, and Kara holds your face between her hands, squeezing it gently.

“I’ll be fine. Go see Lena. You know that if she asked for it, she really needs you.” Kara kisses your forehead. “Go give her some love.”

“You can come too…” You raise your eyebrows a few times, but stop when you see Kara’s sad expression. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, sunflower.”

“See you tomorrow, little one.” Kara smiles. You hesitate, looking behind you a few times, but Kara shoos you with her hands, so you fly off to Lena’s hotel.

Talk about weird! Lena living in a hotel room it’s the definition of ‘something is wrong with the world’.

“That’s, um, nice.” You say, when you go inside the room and Lena chuckles, wrapping her arms around you, and kissing the top of your head.

“It’s temporary. I didn’t have time to look for a real place.” She gives you a smile, and strokes your cheek gently while fully analyzing you. “Have you lost weight?”

“Unlikely.” It’s your answer, but it’s a lie. You probably did lose some weight, since Kara simply forgets to eat, and she’s surviving on ice-cream and whatever is left in the fridge for a week. And you just don’t want to bother her with the fact that you need to eat, because you’re a freaking alien and you eat like one.

It doesn’t matter what you say anyway, because Lena knows the truth, so she is definitely ignoring you and calling for room service. She orders so much food, you have to tell her to stop. You! Of all people!

“So-” She lets out, like a breath, while sitting on the couch next to you, and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “How are you?”

“Scared.” You fall further into her comfort, and breathe in her familiar smell. Home and flowers. “I don’t want our lives to be like this from now on. I-I know it’s my fault-”

“Not your fault.” She interrupts you. But it doesn’t matter, because you don’t believe her.

“Tell me how I can make things better. Tell me how I can fix this.” You ask, and Lena tights the hug kissing your head a couple of times.

“My baby.” She sounds like she’s about to cry, and you’re already too far gone. Tears streaming down your face non-stop. “Stop taking everything upon your hands. This problem is not yours to fix. And you have done nothing wrong to have to make things better.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I burned my training center to the ground?” You look back at her, and she cleans your tears. And then hers.

“That wasn’t you. You know that damn well.” Lena says with a serious expression. “Lex was responsible for all of that. And now you’re back, and you have nothing to worry about, ok?”

“But mom, if Lex knows he can use me, won’t he try that again? And maybe be more successful this time?”

“Remember when I believed your thoughts blocker was a mind wiper?” She asks, making you agree with your head. “Turns out, it could be a mind wiper with a few changes. So, I did them, and now he doesn’t even remember you.” She smiles softly. “You’re safe now. He won’t do that again. And if he ever tries anything, your momma and I will stop him, ok?”

“How did he know about me in the first place?”

“Lillian. But she won’t talk about you with him ever again.”

“Did you make her forget about me too?” You ask, almost sad about it. You don’t want Lillian to forget about you. You like seeing her eventually, and she’s being so nice lately.

“No, baby. She wouldn’t do anything that could harm you.” Lena says with a smile, putting your hair behind your ears, and you furrow your eyebrows at her. “Lillian has done a lot of terrible things, but none of them it’s destroying the family name. And you, babygirl, might be a kryptonian, but you’re also a Luthor.”

“So, you trust her?”

“Well, she has proven herself in the last few days, so… With you? Yes.” That makes you smile a little, and when you hear a knock on the door and you see food on the other side of it, that makes you smile even more.

Staying with Lena one night is not enough. You can see it on her face that she needs more than that. But when you fly back home in the morning to get ready for school, and you find Kara sleeping on the couch, all wrapped up in blankets definitely looking like a ‘sad burrito’, you know she can’t be alone either.

You wish you could divide yourself in two and be with them all the time. You wish they would just talk. And you wish you could turn back time and undo whatever mess you made while you were mind controlled. But you can’t do either. So, you just hope that what you can do for now is enough. And you pray to Rao this storm ends sooner than later.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #lena x reader #reader insert

[ofmermaidstories]

Not a prompt but just vibes to inspire?? I guess? inspired by the tropics of qld. the cities of sugar cane stretching as far as the eye can see, the warble of geckos in the warm night air, a snuffling and scratching in the heart of the roof while beady little eyes stare from the shadows (it’s just possums the locals tell you), a wetsuit shoved in your hands before you step in the refreshing salt water, your raw hands still remember the tough unyielding rope of the crab pots.

anon…………… who are you. how did you know. 👁👄👁 there’s a gecko in the room that’s chittering away to himself RIGHT NOW. sdjfhkjsdhfjk. they really do like to warble. 😭

Somewhere in the wet scrub beyond the shed, a bird caws.

You’d been standing by the counter, waiting as the kettle boiled, mug in hand; you glance up to the dark outside the window when it starts — but you can’t see anything save your own reflection.

“Everything’s so noisy here,” You say, offhandedly. The cicadas and other tiny, skittering life of the bush are rioting even as you speak, hidden among the undergrowth, safe from the bigger foragers. The rain earlier that day has brought them all out — set them loose and as you and Deku tried not to slip among the rocks, where you were trying to pull in the crab pots, the warm spray of the ocean soaking you both.

“It’s probably just a cassowary,” Deku says, hushed, not looking up from where he’s writing in his notebook. His towel is still around his shoulders — his curls dark from his shower. He’d been surprised by a tree frog, in there — you’d heard his surprised shout, the bang of him hitting the wall. When he emerged — still wet, a towel around his hips and a green frog in his hand — you’d twirled your fork in your instant noodles and tried not to laugh.

The bird caws again — it sounds closer, now, angrier. Deku pauses in his writing, his pen hovering over the page as he listens carefully, like he could pick apart the noise and write it down, note-for-note.

The kettle switches off, the water rumbling to a boil and you pick it up — pouring over the teabags you have in your cup, a trick your father taught you.

“It’s nothing,” Deku says, eventually, firmly. He’s done this the entire time you’ve been together, on this strange little road trip up the northern coast — the reassurer, the one that says it’s nothing, it’s okay. You’d believed him at first. He was gentle but strong, sweet — you’d found each other at a Backpacker’s in the city, teaming up since you wanted to see the same things; taking his little van, graffitied brightly. But this country was old — a burnt, yellow-green country with red earth and ancient trees and brown creeks and a people who were cheery enough, you guessed, but either didn’t seem to notice the strange things around them or just didn’t care.

You’d been on the fringes of a coastal city a few weeks before, having pulled over for a warm paper parcel of hot chips — thick cut fries with the grease seeping through, as you cradled it to yourself like a warm puppy. Deku had found a little lookout to park at, overlooking the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

“We might get to see some whales!” He’d said, excitedly, the wind making his loose shirt ripple around him — moving his hair. You’d sat under the shade of the gazebo, unrolling the chips free — more interested in eating. But his excitement was palpable — and like he’d manifested it, you’d seen the arching breakthrough of a pod of whales, down in the dark blue sea below — cresting to the surface.

His face had brightened — a broad, scarred hand gripping the wooden railing that separated him from the drop of the cliff below. “They’re magnificent,” He’d said, and you hummed an agreement — trying to shake the feeling that something was watching the two of you, though you were the only ones in this spot.

It wasn’t constant, but it happened enough. You’d parked alongside a field of sugarcane one night, the both of you too tired to keep driving — and when you woke up in the pastel twilight of morning Deku was awake, sitting up and staring out the window where the sugarcane rustled, like something had slipped away, moments before you came to.

He’d only smiled at you, in the gloom — his face open, trusting, still sleepy. You didn’t ask him what had been out there, if anything — he wouldn’t have told you anyway.

The farmer — an old, no-nonsense man that had you working with fruit packing; with his crab pots — had shown you to the refurbished shed when you finally arrived, sequestered amid the scrub of the property, giving you and Deku both a little privacy from the main house.

“Dinner’s at six every night,” He’d said, with a simple shrug. “If you wanna join us, that is. The Mrs puts on a decent feed, but you’ve got everything you’d need in here if ya don’t feel like dragging yourself up to the house. I recently got a bloke in to redo the hot water tanks, so everything should be in top condition — but it does get noisy as shit down here, at night. It shouldn’t bother ya much, though, and once you’re out cold you’re not gonna notice it.”

“Do you have a lot of animals out here?” You’d asked, curiously. It was a big space for just the two of you — with a open-plan living space and kitchen, a bathroom and toilet, and a couple of rooms where you and Deku could seperate and get some space.

The farmer - Robbie, he’d told you to call him - shrugged again. “Yeah, I guess as much. Some of the last kids we had working here chucked a wobbly about the racket — I don’t want you kids to feel unsafe, but I reckon it ain’t much. Probably just possums, the destructive little bastards.”

“Possums,” You echo, caught on his phrase chucked a wobbly.

Robbie shrugged again. “That or the Bindi-Bindi man.”

Deku, who’d been investigating the space curiously, looked at the farmer at that. “Bindi-Bindi man?” He asked, unsure.

The old man chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry too much. The local black fellas reckon he’s harmless, if he is out there — it’s just a story, mate. You know, to scare kids into behaving. Some leggy bastard who strides around the country at night, giving the dogs around here something to work themselves over. He’s meant to be shy as shit — you’ll spook him more than he spooks you, I promise.” He’d laughed to himself again like he was funny — and you’d ignored the chill that ran down your spine, though behind you Deku had started muttering furiously to himself, taking note of things he wanted to ask about.

Somewhere in the shed a gecko chitters loudly; complaining about your presence in his space. You snort and help yourself to a biscuit; a scotch finger, buttery and crumbly between your fingers as you snap it in half. Deku has gone back to writing in his book and you pour him a cup of tea, too — green tea, a stash he’s been carrying around with him, from home. It smells earthy; grassy and rich. You stir it, glancing up absentmindedly — to your reflection, in the dark glass.

Outside, in the limited light of the kitchen, you think you see something move, your skin prickling. Just the Bindi-Bindi man, you tell yourself. You focus on Deku’s cup instead, the frothy green of his tea — and don’t notice the reflection of the blond boy in the glass, or how Deku’s head jerks up, meeting his fierce gaze head on.

#ofmermaidstories-asks #this vibe……….. that i then turned into a ghost story apparently sdkjhfdslkjjhfdskjh #my town has a local aboriginal legend about a very tall man with big ears who’s self concious of them #and if you see him and laugh at his ears he’ll kidnap you #also fun fact kangaroos sound like grown men when they cough it can be very startling if you’re not used to it LOL #anon…. thank u for this prompt it was VERY good #gold star for u and a lil kiss ⭐️ #prompts and drabbles and other things #deku and the ghost

[leelysian]

Unwell

genre: slight angst with fluff ending, implied crush au, one shot

pairing: female reader x best friend!Minho

word count: 1.4k

context: you're terribly sick, you haven't told anyone but your best friend somehow knew something was wrong when you wouldn't reply to his numerous texts.

A/N: this may or may not have turned into a rant because I was sick for the past few days akskakdksks

Seasonal flus were the worst. Slightly chilly from hot or slightly warm from cold and suddenly your body decides, “You know what? I don’t vibe with this weather. I’ma just break down.” You had a mild fever and a cold. While the fever was mild, it was annoying because you weren’t sick enough to just pass out for hours and having a cold meant your nose either:

Dried up like the Sahara which ended up burning your sinuses and it felt like your skull was on fire.

Got blocked like the path between the North and South Korea; nothing got in or out which meant breathing through your mouth which also dried up.

Runny like the Amazon river, there’s crumples of tissue paper all over your floor. Your nose was red, rough and raw from blowing so much, the delicate skin was irritated.

Here you were, slumped on your bed with the covers on top of you but a leg and an arm sticking out because it got too hot to be fully under the covers and too cold to be fully without. Sleep eluded you the previous night, you just couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t gonna happen. Somehow you’d fall asleep only to wake up a little while later, and end up tossing and turning in your bed. Because you were unsuccessful in your attempts to get a good night’s rest, you woke up with a pounding headache from your eyelids to the back of your head. Your whole body ached.

Leftovers in your fridge were finished so you forced yourself to get up and heat some instant noodles to eat with your meds. Water tasted bitter. Your appetite vanished. Eating was agonising because afterwards you felt suffocated, an invisible pressure on your torso prevented you from breathing fully, your lungs not taking in air fully so your breaths were short. Hell, peeing was a chore. At least you weren’t on your period, maybe if that happened, you’d actually die. Imagine having to frequently change pads/tampons and underwear while feeling like you got ran over by a truck. Were you overreacting? Maybe. But it was allowed at this point.

So in short, you were suffering since the past two days. You were absolutely miserable. You wanted to cry but crying meant your nose getting runny then eventually blocked and then a headache so you sucked it up. You brought a hand to your head to massage your head because it hurt, grimacing by the tangles and the grease. You reached for your phone, unlocked to see various social media notifications which you cleared and messages from your friends which you also elected to ignore and reply to later. Playing a playlist with slow music with medium volume and dropped it back on the bed, you closed your eyes and let the soft melodies flow into your ears in hopes of helping you forget about your headache once again. This is how you held on to your last shred of sanity but you failed to hold on to your consciousness and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

You woke up to a cold compress on your forehead, your room clutter and mess free, the windows open and something nice smelling. You thought you were dreaming when a face you know all too well walked into your bedroom with a bowl. “Minho? what are you doing here? Get out. I’m sick, you’ll get sick too.” you rasped. “Well, about time you acknowledged my existence, even if it’s to tell me to get out. I should’ve been here earlier, maybe it would’ve been helpful if you told me you were dying in your pigsty of a room.” he snapped. He put the bowl on your nightstand, you realised it was water, he was probably going to replace the cold compress. 

“You look terrible.” he said. “Gee, thanks.” you retorted. “You need a shower.” he advised. “Nooooo.” you whined and snuggled further into the covers. “Come on, y/n, there’s no way you’ll get better if you feel disgusting. I’ll help.” He said and snatched the blankets. “Minho, stop. You’ll get my germs.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it now come on.” he said and helped you sit up then suddenly with strength you didn’t know he had he carried you princess style to the bathroom and you yelped. “Jeez y/n you’ve lost so much weight.” he tsked. “Do you think you can wash your hair on your own?” he asked as he sat you down on the counter. “I’ll be okay.” you replied tiredly. “If you need help, just ask.” he said and adjusted the water temperature in the shower then left.

You took your time showering, the first five minutes just standing under the warm water which opened up your sinuses, having the steady stream of water beat down over your back and easing your sore muscles. You washed your hair slowly, so as not to tire your arms out. Stepping out of the shower, you felt immensely better, finally able to breathe a bit easier. Drying off, you wore your fluffy bathrobe and walked out to see a big shirt (one you ‘borrowed’ from Minho) and pajama shorts laid out on the bed. Thankfully, he didn’t lay out underwear for you. You dressed up and got settled back in bed, already tired again.

You unlocked your phone and saw the concerned texts from Minho because you weren’t answering them or his calls and felt guilty. A knock resounded from your door, “come in.” you said and Minho walked in with a tray. “Well well, finally I see y/n and not a corpse.” he teased. Whatever was on that tray smelled heavenly and your stomach rumbled. He put the tray down on your lap and he brought the back of his hand to your neck to check your temperature. “Hm, your fever has probably gone down but I think it’ll be back.” he notes. The whole time you stared at him. “Hey. I’m sorry I ignored your texts.” you said and twiddled with your thumbs, the guilt unbearable. He took your hands in his own, “It’s fine. I’m sorry for snapping. I was just worried and scared. I thought you actually died at first glance and I panicked.” 

He turned to the tray and lifted the lid from the bowl, “It’s chicken rice porridge. Eat up and take your meds.” Your eyes were still downcast, “I can’t I feel horrible afterwards.” and you explained in detail. “It’s probably acidity, clearly you’ve been eating junk and it’s not sitting well in your stomach. This won’t cause you discomfort. At least eat a little bit. Please? For me? I made this for you.” he said and used the signature kitty eyes. You looked up and he’s already holding a spoonful of the warm concoction. You hated when he pulled the look on you, you could never say no to those eyes but then again you didn’t want to because that porridge looked pretty darn appetising. You opened your mouth and Minho fed you the gloopy goodness. 

You could’ve just eaten yourself but you quite liked being pampered so you said nothing. Minho carefully spoon fed you the whole bowl, blowing delicately on the first couple of spoonfuls until the rest became tepid. Halfway through the bowl you felt full so you told him you didn’t want to eat anymore but he pulled the kitty eyes again, and now you’re stuffed. He handed you the glass of water and meds which you gulped down and went to clean up. He came back and stood awkwardly in your doorway. “You’re leaving already?” you asked sadly. “Do you want me to?” he asked back. “No grab my laptop and come watch Spirited Away with me.” you pouted. He smiled, got the laptop from your desk, grabbed one of the sweatpants he left from previous times he’s been to your place to change into, and then settled in bed next to you under the covers. 

You took one of your many pillows and settled your laptop on it and settled back. “Hey, Minho?” you called. “Hm?” he enquired. “Thanks for taking care of me.” you smiled softly. He was going to say something snarky but decided against it and said, “It's alright.” About half an hour into the movie he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and he looked bewildered to see you’ve fallen asleep on him, breathing softly. He turned off the laptop and placed it on the ground before wrapping his arms around you, placing your head over his chest and reclining back. He looked at your sleeping face with soft, adoring eyes and a gentle smile. He gently rubbed your back with one hand when suddenly you stirred and threw your arm over his stomach. Slowly, he too, drifted off to sleep with dreams of you and him together.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz #skz fluff #skz imagines #lee know #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know fluff #lee minho #lee minho imagines #lee minho scenarios #lee minho fluff #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids minho fluff #skz minho fluff #stray kids lee know fluff #skz lee know fluff #stray kids minho scenarios #stray kids lee know scenarios #stays #you make stray kids stay