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sweetsubharry · 4 years

Note

hi! can you give me your hottest, dirtiest, filthiest bottom harry fics?

Hiya!! Yes I can! ^-^

Now there are 41 different fics under this list, so it’s quite long! Obviously what people find dirty/filthy can be a large range, so if you ever want to narrow it down just send another message like ‘no plot’ for example :) and then I can make it more suited to your taste if this one isn’t! I hope you enjoy this though love ❤

In case no one gets to the bottom of the page I’ll say it again here too! Please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

you're my favorite ride by louislovesharry

no summary

At Least As Deep As the Pacific Ocean (I wanna be yours) by babylouis

Louis can’t help but stop and watch him for a moment, how beautiful he looks, sprawled out on the bed, his cock red and hard against his tummy, collar snug against his neck and the bow still placed neatly in his curls to keep them back from Harry’s face.

His boy may be the most beautiful creature on the planet.

Especially tied up like this, body begging to be fucked. Begging to be destoryed.

Louis likes to push boundaries, and Harry takes what he gets. Lots of subspace Harry and fonding Louis ensues.

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo

It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.

Pretty please, take care of me ? by kurtcobain

Louis is stressed. Harry wants to help.

Step into the Light by Smolbeanandhisqween

Harry is on the set of his new music video "Lights Up". His husband, Louis, is watching him film the video. He gets jealous of all of the people touching Harry and teaches him a lesson.

Destroy Me, King by stylinsexualxo

After SNL, jealous Louis has a little surprise for Harry when he arrives home.

Can We Pretend (honestly reality bores me) by SadaVeniren

He felt Louis chuckle. “Dreaming of being my supportive, no-name boyfriend again?”

“Always,” Harry whispered. It was true. After all this time together there was no point in hiding any of his fantasies from Louis, no matter how innocent they were. So Louis was well aware of Harry’s desire to be anonymous sometimes - the “no-name” as Louis called him - loyal, a constant presence at Louis’ side.

aka Harry comes and supports Louis at his Scala concert

Let Me Be Good For You by onlyhuman for haroldtbh

His distress over the bun is nothing compared to the thrill Louis feels shoot up his spine at the outfit Harry’s donned. He’s changed into leather jeans that cling to his legs, hugging his thighs snugly. On top of it, a floaty, black sheer shirt is contouring his frame, doing absolutely nothing to hide his puffy nipples or the endless array of tattoos scattered across his torso. It’s Louis’ favourite outfit in the entire world.

Or, Niall's only birthday wish is to go clubbing with his boys in Vegas. Harry ruins it all by wearing that god forsaken black sheer shirt.

You Like Playing Games by orphan_account

Louis knows Harry likes to flirt and tease. Louis knows that he doesn’t particularly like when Harry flirts and teases. Louis knows that Harry knows that Louis doesn’t particularly like it.

But what Louis doesn’t quite know is why, despite that, Harry’s decided to grind against 5 Seconds of Summer’s Luke Hemmings during “Teenage Dirtbag” in the last show in Melbourne.

Basically pure smut.

Do Not Disturb (kiss me beneath the milky twilight) by SadaVeniren

“I was talking with Nick a couple months back and he was saying how our sex life seemed boring and we’d need to keep doing new and interesting things to keep it exciting or else we’d become boring and heterosexual and I defended us of course but then work picked up and we started living off of studio handjobs and missionary position sex in the dark and so I panicked. I googled BDSM and after looking into it I really want to try some of it because I think we’d enjoy it but we just don’t have the time.”

aka Harry doesn't want to become a boring old married couple a year into their relationship and tries to spice up their sex life.

Forgetting Frisco by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry probably knew when he decided to wear that goddamn sheer shirt onstage in Toronto that it was going to drive Louis absolutely insane with want. He probably didn't know that Louis was going to proceed to fuck him so good he had flashbacks for years to come just like Frisco, but then again, you won't hear him complaining.

(Basically 6k of Louis worshipping Harry's body and doing it all in front of a mirror so Harry can worship, too.)

Mon Petit by coffinofachimera

Harry wears the 'Mon Petit' sweater while Louis records them on their private

falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger plane

Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.

Always In My Heart by sweaterpawstyles

The tweet itself was not startling at all. Harry saw people retweet it nearly every day for years now. It always made him smile to see how many people had retweeting Louis showing his love for Harry on that day.

What was startling was underneath where the fan had retweeted it, Harry saw the small number 1M written on it.

Harry froze, completely unable to move anything in his body. He knew Louis had the second most retweeted tweet of all time, but it reached a million retweets. One million people believed in Louis' love for Harry. Or AIMH hits 1 million & facetime sex ensues

You and Me by louisgrindsonharry

Harry and Louis have dabbled in the idea of BDSM but Harry finally wants to take it farther and Louis has to figure out how to take care of his boy.

they shake, you conquer (and I'm left to their devices) by butidontreallycare

smut. a little love for Harry's thighs, but mostly just smut. I am not ashamed

Daddy Came Home by RuinedBy5Guys

“You got yourself off.” He says quietly, his eyes locked on Harry’s. Harry’s face flushes and he tries to cover it, shoving himself towards Louis. He drops to his knees, leaning close between his husbands spread thighs. He puts his hands on his dress pants, carefully feeling the material at his knees.

“How did you know?” He asks quietly. Louis drops his face, grabbing over Harry’s hands with his own. Harry lowers his gaze, staring at the carpet underneath him.

“You were asleep. You always get tired after an orgasm. Not to mention how flushed you are.” He says quietly, raking his eyes over Harry’s body. Harry glances up at him, his actions becoming more clear to him now that Louis was home.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, dropping his eyes again.

“What was that?” Louis snaps, reaching to bring Harry’s face up again. Harry gulps, shuffling closer on his knees, the joints aching already.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Harry says, his green eyes locked on Louis’ blue ones. Louis smiles slightly, stroking his fingers over his husbands cheeks softly.

“Just gonna have to spank you now, aren’t I?”

OR... Harry teases and Daddy punishes him in the best ways possible

take me into your loving arms by blankiehxrry

twas the night of the brit awards

I Wanna Do What Bunnies Do With You by MoreThanTonight

“Lou.. Not here?” Harry pulled off with a gasp. “There are people in the next room. What if they hear us?“

“Then I guess you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you, love?” Louis winked.

It's Harry's birthday and Louis wants to make it a birthday he won't forget. Louis is an art student, Harry is his boyfriend and muse.

if they find out, will it all go wrong? by blankiehxrry

madison square garden shenanigans

Happy Birthday by sleepingalone

“You wanna use that right now?” he asked incredulously, wondering how horny Louis must be. They had just fucked a few hours ago, before falling asleep. Surely he didn’t want to use it already.

“You said we had to wait till my birthday, and it’s my birthday,” Louis said cheekily, throwing Harry a small grin. Harry groaned into the pillow, burying his head in it.

“But I’m tired, Lou. I need my beauty rest.”

“I already undid the packaging,” Louis whined. “Please, can we just do it real quick? It would really make my day. My birthday,” he added. “You can go to sleep afterwards, Sleeping Beauty.”

Louis just really wants to use his new vibrating butt plug on Harry and turn him into a broken mess.

I Knew Right From the Beginning That You Would End Up Winning by aalexandravictoriaa

"I remember the first day I met you," Louis says, using his thumbs to make Harry open up to him even more. "I remember wanting to take you right there on the fucking street. I wanted to bend you over and bury myself in you over and over again. I couldn't then, but I'm going to now, baby. First with my tongue, then with my cock."

Harry is Louis' favorite camboy and Louis becomes his Daddy.

In Motion by FictitiousFanatisch (orphan_account)

They'd only talked about it once a few weeks ago. Harry always liked it when Louis was in control and he said there was something about being denied constantly that made him even more turned on.

It's a lazy day and Harry wants Louis to edge him. (That's literally it.)

I'm Gonna Love You (Until You Hate me) by sweaterpawstyles

As if reading his mind, Louis glanced over his glasses at Harry, presumably because Harry didn't reply to his statement earlier.

"I decided to get my glasses out again," he chuckled, winking at Harry. "Do you like them?"

Harry felt his face heat up. No, he didn't just like them. He fucking loved them and wanted to ride Louis and call him daddy while he wore them. But he didn't want to just tell Louis this.

Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn't like to be teased

I have often prayed for an angel by orphan_account

“Daddy,” he whines, voice already growing high in pitch. “Can I? Please?” “Of course angel,” Louis whispers fondly, hand tangling in Harry’s hair as he brushes it back. He loves Harry’s long strands, maybe even more than Harry does himself. “You look so beautiful on your knees like that, so eager to suck my cock.” “Mhm,” Harry hums, already licking at Louis’ slit. He begins to suckle softly at the head, peering up at Louis with wide eyes. The angel wings stretch on either side of him, and it’s so obscene, how filthy the act they’re doing is in contrast to the white feathers adorning Harry’s back. “Love your cock Daddy.” Or, the one in which Louis fucks Harry in the VS wings after he wears them onstage.

down and dirty, you're loving me so loud by orphan_account

Harry's finally twenty and there's a few things he wants.

feels so good getting what i want. by stylescantstop

Harry is a slutty yoga teacher with his sights set on Louis and Louis wants to pull that long hair of his while he fucks him really hard from behind.

Empyrean, You Fool by becauseitrhymes

Louis only realized it was actually happening once the reality of getting to carry boxes to his new flat settled in. He’d moved out of his parent’s just two days prior, with a stomach full of butterflies and no knowledge of how to do anything remotely adult, like, at all.

He’s only twenty-three years old, too, and he thinks he’s done pretty well for such a young age, considering he’s bought a flat with his money and had driven his car to get there and hadn’t cried (much) when leaving his parents. All in all, Louis thinks it’s pretty cool.

And then he’s sitting on his couch watching football in his lounge in his flat and hell yeah, it’s pretty cool.

AU where Louis moves next door to Harry, Louis falls in love with Harry, sex ensues.

Love Me Like You Do by sweaterpawstyles

Of all of the things Louis had imagined, never did he expect to become a chief editor for a magazine and to date the world-famous model Harry Styles. But he certainly never imagined one day that he would be anxiously awaiting a phone call from the top floor of an office building to tell the Harry Styles to get himself dolled up and ready to wait for his Daddy to come home before he got fucked into the mattress.

Harry is a famous model and Louis is a quiet writer who may or may not be his Dom

A Hard Day's Work by louisruinedlife (orphan_account)

A bad day at work for Harry usually means turning in early. A bad day at work for Louis leads to something else entirely.

*Can be read as a stand alone.

the big idea by orphan_account

University students Harry and Zayn are filming a prank for YouTube that requires Harry to walk around campus asking random men if he could suck their dick. One of the guys, Louis, who agrees to such offer is too attractive for Harry to pass down.

He doesn't think its much of a prank anymore after that.

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown by orphan_account

“That's why you were late, eh?” he teases as Harry frantically tries to hide the dildos and the collar in the drawer. “Having too much fun to think about good ole Louis?”

“You were having fun too,” Harry replies weakly. Louis honestly has never seen a person be in such a shade of red.

“Yeah, but my fun didn't involve colourful dildos and nipple clamps.”

or the one where louis really needs to pass his a-levels and harry is his tutor who doesn’t really own a dog.

Give It To Me (I'm Worth It) by sweaterpawstyles

"Who the hell puts lube packets in their sock?"

"A boy who wanted to get fucked in the locker room by his daddy," Harry said innocently. "I have my good intentions, Lou."

Louis can't resist Harry in the red shorts that he wore during the James Corden skit. Featuring locker room sex.

don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

written for this prompt:

"louis knows Harry gets handsy when he's drunk, but that doesn't stop him from showing harry who he belongs to."

or the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

causing trouble up in hotel rooms (baby, I'm perfect) by felixandtae

A fan threw a Green Bay Packers crop top on stage and Harry kept it. We all know what happened after that.

sweet like cinnamon by brainwaves for SuburbanWarrior

It all started with bumping into Louis at Gemma’s mate’s wedding. Well, maybe it really started with Harry making heart eyes at the boy in jersey number 17 all those years ago. Now all he can think about is getting into Louis’ pants and maybe staying there for a really, really long time.

Or the one where Harry calls Louis daddy and it all spirals out of control from there.

Fulfilling Your Needs by unmeshed

“You want to be messy, baby? Filled with Daddy’s come? So much that you can barely hold it all in?"

Harry nods softly and Louis leans in to kiss him on the lips with a smile. “Want Daddy to plug you up after? Keep it inside of you all day?"

“Lou,” Harry whines, softly rubbing himself against his boyfriend, biting down on Louis’ bottom lip before he deepens the kiss, sneaking his tongue inside.

Louis’ll be damned if he can’t make Harry’s dreams come true.

Louis buys Harry an ejaculating dildo because Harry wants to feel full.

Like a Kitten by peaceloveandlarry

"Erm, I, uh, well, I think... I think you're really pretty, and I, um, I want to fuck you- I mean! Oh god. I- I want to go out? Yea! I want to go out."

Or Harry likes to wear kitten ears, and Louis happens to think Harry looks nice with them.

into another serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry's the yearbook photographer who's been assigned to take pictures of Louis, the new captain of the football team. Harry's got a massive, obvious crush on Louis and somehow, Louis feels the same way.

Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

Cheeky Princess by Noelle1224

Harry and panties. What more is there to explain?

I'm Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by Phillipa19

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry's sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

Got A Lot You Wanna Show Off Baby by Phillipa19

Louis had been in meetings all day, he should have known that Harry wouldn't be ignored for much longer.

-OR-

Louis is Harry's sugardaddy and his younger boyfriend is definitely not happy being ignored whilst Louis holds meetings in his home office. There may also be Harry in lacy knickers involved.

As always please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

#Larry Stylinson #fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfic rec #larry stylinson fic rec #bottom harry #top louis #sub harry #dom louis #smut #I'm probably going to hell for some of these #ask lots #Lottie fic rec

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honey-andtea1889 · 4 years

Text

The Cold Autumn Evenings (H.S.) Part Two

AN: Hello again lovies! So this part is kind of a filler but it’s not awful! I had to go and reread some bits to fix them up a bit but I think it’s decent! I’m sorry it took so long for this to go up as well. I was down in Arizona for a week and let me tell you I miss it a lot. Anywho, enjoy part two! Requests are open!

Summary: Y/N got caught up in reading Harry’s story, unfortunately this is the reason for her being late

Warnings: none

Song: A Slow Death In Pacific Standard Time by HUNNY

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The next morning seemed like a blur. Y/N woke up super early and continued where she left off in Harry’s story. In the chapter she was on, the man was about to profess his love for the girl, but she had been seen with someone else, leaving the man heartbroken and confused. Y/N could feel the tears slowly falling down her face as she continued the sad chapter. Her phone began ringing as she set the packet down to get breakfast.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite- are you okay?” Harry questioned over the phone.

“Oh I’m fine! I was just reading something that got me a bit emotional is all. Is everything okay?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, everything is fine. I usually hear from you by now about meetings or issues with clients but my phone was silent the entire morning and I just got worried. Are you at the office yet?” Harry said as he walked out of the fancy building in the middle of London.

Y/N checked the time and nearly tripped on her way from the coffee machine.

She was almost 45 minutes late.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize what time it was! I’m so sorry Mr. Styles, I’m leaving for the office right now!” Y/N squealed as she bolted to her bedroom to get dressed.

“Y/N! Y/N, relax! It’s fine. I’m actually on my way to the office right now, I can pick you up if you’d like?” Harry suggested.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked.

“Definitely! Send me the address and I’ll be there in 20.” He said as he hung up the phone.

Y/N smiled as she texted him her address and entered her bathroom to brush her teeth. When her teeth were all brushed, Y/N did her hair and makeup. She wasn’t sure why, but she was nervous for Harry to see her flat. He was her boss and probably lived a lot better than she did, it made her a bit self conscious about it.

The flat wasn’t awful. It was small, definitely built for one person or a couple who had just moved in together. The walls were a deep forest green with a brick accent wall that held a fireplace, a lighter shade of pine wood covering the floor. It had an open concept that led from the living room into the kitchen/dining area. Off of the living room to the left, there was a hallway that held the bathroom on the left side and Y/N’s room on the right.

Her furniture was all given to her from her mother. A simple beige couch that was comfier than most couches sweetly decorated with green throw pillows and a dark brown recliner chair surrounded a small coffee table in the middle of the living room facing the fireplace. She had a small white blanket folded on the lower shelf of the table just in case it ever became too cold. She had shelves that were covered with books on both sides of the fireplace and pictures of family members and adorable plaques which gave an aesthetically pleasing look to her small flat.

It was her cute little home that she loved dearly, but Harry doesn’t really come around so you could understand the nerves that ran through her as she scampered to get ready. As she fixed up her throw pillows and straightened up some books on her shelves, a loud knock echoed through her flat. Sam barked and ran over to the big mahogany door.

“Sam, sh! Go into your bed please!” Y/N begged.

The little frenchie snorted and ran over to his dog bed set along one of the walls. Y/N opened the door to see Harry dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a peacoat that ended right above his hips. His hair was slightly tousled due to the cold Autumn wind but he didn’t look anything less than perfect. Y/N swallowed hard at how ravishing this man looked. She had to make sure she wasn’t drooling in front of him.

“Hello, Y/N! Are you ready?” Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

Y/N shook herself out of her trance and blushed, hoping he didn’t notice her staring.

“Almost, I just need to grab a few things. Please come in! Make yourself at home whilst I finish up.” Y/N smiled as she stepped to the side.

Harry entered into her home and took in his surroundings as Y/N went back into her room to grab her bag and her phone. He thought her flat was adorable and it suited her perfectly. As he admired her cozy little home, Harry soon felt small paws scratching at his legs. He looked down to see Sam shaking his little stubby tail with excitement.

“Okay, I think I’m all- oh my god I’m so sorry! Sam, don’t jump!” Y/N rushed over to pick up her sweet pup.

“It’s alright, love! I didn’t know you had a dog. You said his name was Sam?” Harry questioned.

“Yeah. He doesn’t usually jump on people like that. Guess you’re an exception!” Y/N giggled.

Harry chuckled and rubbed behind Sam’s ear. The happy, little pooch licked his fingers and snorted with joy. Harry and Y/N laughed as she set Sam down. Harry looked at the small coffee table and saw his novel laying with the cover in clear sight. Smirking, he looked over at Y/N.

“Is that why you’re late? Too busy reading m’novel, eh?” Harry smirked.

Y/N could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Y-yes. I-I just couldn’t put it down. It’s really good, actually. I’m not done with it yet but I’m getting close.” Y/N mumbled as she grabbed the packet.

Harry chuckled and opened the door. Y/N kept her eyes on the ground as she exited her flat and made her way to the elevator.

Harry thought it was cute whenever she was embarrassed about stuff. He specifically recalled the day he first started calling her “Love”. She turned three shades of pink and toyed with the strings on her blouse that hung around her breasts. He wasn’t sure as to why he enjoyed making her blush, maybe it was just the thought of being able to make her flustered is what made his ego skyrocket. Harry has always thought Y/N was attractive. She was his type for sure, with her Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes, not to mention the curves she had, Harry was absolutely smitten to have a girl like her work for him.

As Harry entered the elevator, Y/N was digging in her purse.

“Leave something in you flat, love?” Harry asked.

“I can’t seem to find my glasses. I don’t understand, I had them this morning.” Y/N sighed, still digging into the small brown bag.

Harry had seen a slight glare on the top of Y/N’s head. He slowly reached and pulled the glasses she was looking for. Y/N shot her head up as soon as she felt his hands in her hair.

“Don’t move.” Harry said.

Y/N’s knees nearly buckled as she kept still until the glasses were off of her head.

“Are these the ones you seek?” Harry chuckled.

The eye contact between the two was intense. They were looking at each other as though the other person was the only thing in the world. It was almost like a movie scene when the love interests had realized their feelings for one another. Harry and Y/N could feel the tension between them as she grabbed the spectacles from his large hands. As Y/N took ahold of part of the frames, her fingers brushed against Harry’s. It felt like sparks when the skin of their fingers grazed one another. The sudden jolt took both of them by surprise.

Y/N blushed again and thanked him. Harry smirked and slipped his hands in his pockets. The two travelled down the building in silence until Harry spoke up as they entered the lobby.

“You really think m’novel is good?” He smiled, holding the door opened for her.

“Mr. Styles please excuse the next statement but are you serious? It’s amazing so far! I mean there were a few spelling mistakes and you accidentally used the wrong ‘there’ for ownership once but other than that, it’s stunning so far!” Y/N gushed.

It was Harry’s turn to blush now. He had been working on that stupid thing for months now. He couldn’t count how many days he suffered writer’s block for the novel, so to hear Y/N praise it as much as she was just filled his heart like no other.

“Thank you, love. It really means a lot to me that you’re reading over it. It’s been a challenge writing it.” Harry said as they made their way to his car.

Harry was driving a newly redone 1970 black Ford Capri. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she slowly walked to the passenger side. Harry chuckled, opening the door for her again. She carefully slipped into the vehicle and looked around the interior. The seats were made of leather and the steering wheel was black with silver lining around the logo. Y/N felt like if she were to move something would happen to the car, she couldn’t start to think how much Harry paid for this.

“Do you want to stop and grab some coffee before we head in? There’s a shop close to the office.” Harry asked.

“Won’t we be late?” Y/N asked, looking at Harry as he buckled up.

“Love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re already an hour and fifteen minutes late.” Harry chuckled, starting the car.

Y/N giggled as she fixed her hair. Harry smiled and drove to the small coffee shop close to the office. The two bought small coffees (her’s with extra sugar and pumpkin spice creamer, his just black) and made the last few miles to the office.

The pair had entered the office and parted ways when they reached Y/N’s desk. Claire had bolted over to Y/N once Harry had closed the door.

“So..a meeting, huh?” Claire smirked as she sat on her friend’s desk.

“Oh please Claire. He was at the meeting, I was simply running late this morning. I was reading something and just lost track of time I guess.” Y/N sighed, trying to get her things organized.

Claire chuckled and leaned back slightly, trying to get a glance of Y/N’s neck.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked.

“Just checking for hickeys.” Claire said, still trying to peak.

Y/N laughed and nudged her friend softly.

“I’m serious, nothing happened! I mean..there was the elevator when he picked me up from my flat.” She sighed.

Claire’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. She nearly jumped over the desk asking for details.

“Okay! Okay! I couldn’t find my glasses this morning when we left my flat, but of course they were on my head. Mr. Styles had seen them and grabbed them for me, however when I took them from him, I had accidentally touched his hand and Claire, I’m telling you I felt sparks. I’m sure he felt them too! It just seemed like something out of a romance novel or something.”

Like Harry’s Novel Y/N thought. The slight pink color in her cheeks obviously gave away how she felt for Harry. Claire smiled as she watched Y/N beam. She’s not seen her this happy about someone in a while and that absolutely filled Claire’s heart. The last guy Y/N had dated was a total tool. He was gross and never treated her the way she deserved to be treated. Claire knew Harry respected women more than anything. That’s what made him the most attractive! She wouldn’t have to worry about beating his ass.

“Maybe see if he wants to hang out after work! I don’t see why he wouldn’t say yes to you.” Claire said as she made her way to her desk.

Y/N chuckled as she grabbed the packet she had gotten lost in this morning. She turned to the page in which she had left off and began reading again, annotating little notes for ideas and questions she had. She had glanced over to the door that led into Harry’s office and smiled.

Maybe she should see if he would like to hang out later.

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whatkikiwrote · 3 years

Photo

Jen is a character out of an unwritten book. Fairy Michael said it best, "That girl is from another planet." The girl with the spider legs. I say is because a person like Jen doesn't just leave this planet when they die, it'll take awhile before a sparkle like hers dissipates. She was fire, fun and one of the most hilarious people I'd ever met. She was smart as a whip and great company. Jen and I were the girls dating the Hungarians. Thomas and Sam were attached at the hip, which meant for better or worse, so were Jen and I.

The four of us lived a few months together in a rusty shipping container until the rainy season hit and we were practically flooded out. That was November 2015. The rain in Big Sur fell especially hard that year, breaking California out of it's drought. We were always together in the beginning. Jen would wake at dawn to work her morning shift at Ripplewood and Sam was always ready to walk her to work. If you were unfortunate enough to be in the Ripplewood parking lot around 6am, you'd encounter them with their tongues down each other's throat. Sam and Jen were always making out. I remember once my parents came to visit from Boston, so we took them to the aquarium and my dad joked that Sam and Jen missed the whole thing because they were too busy engulfed in each other.

Living in the shipping container in late October provided minimal heat and sometimes the night temperatures dropped below freezing, so we spent a lot of our time at the pub. To stay warm Sam, Jen and I spent hundreds of hours in the soft glow of the pub's fireplace, while Thomas worked in the kitchen. The pub was located in the same parking lot as our little container, so we would joke it was the living room. I'm sure I'm not the first to say that about the Maiden, and if you were lucky to have spent an evening there, you understand how special it was. A little cozy corner community of people off the beaten Highway one path.

To bide our time I wrote. And drank.

Harassed the bartenders.

Sam read countless books. But Jen could never sit still. She would pick up a book she was interested in, read a few pages and then start another one. She'd get bored, order a beer from Spencer or, if it was Friday night, from Heavy Metal Chris. She'd roll a cigarette on the bar, go outside by the barrel to smoke and every time I’d glance out the window at her, she would be hugging someone new. Lots of times she'd spot a friend in the parking lot, jump in their car, leave her stuff inside and come back hours later to her beer and purse, right where she'd left them. You don't deserve that kind of community love unless you work for it and Jen certainly did. She was always around and if I needed her in a pinch, I only had to use the “Big Sur telephone”, "Hey everyone!” I’d call into the open doors of the pub, If you see Jen, tell her I'm looking for her." "Which Jen?" Someone would ask. "The one with the long legs." I’d reply. "Crossed eye Jen?" That was another thing about us. We both had occasionally lazy eyes.

In November Thomas and I moved into our Kia Forte and Sam and Jen moved into her Jetta. We didn't see them as much. Sam and Jen stayed in the valley, sleeping at The Grange while Thomas and I drove down to the south coast and spend our time off surfing at Sand dollar. I remember once we took Sam and Jen out to surf. I let her borrow my board and watched in horror like a worried mother as she flipped and flopped and smashed her and my board over and over again until she realized she could use just use it as a boogie board. I can still remember the endless joy on her face, even today, years later, holed up in a giant downtown apartment, far far away from the Pacific. That cute squinty smile. She wouldn't give me my board back for the rest of the day, no matter how much I pleaded.

In late December Thomas and I decided to move to Monterey. The day we signed our lease I drove to LA to get the rest of my stuff I had left behind when I abruptly decided to follow my heart and move to Big Sur. When I came home to Monterey, the apartment had been completely decorated. It looked like a homeless hippie had vomited all over our walls and, I guess she kinda did. Jen welcomed me with her big goofy googly eyed smile and offered me a plate of burnt cookies. That wasn't the only time Jen decorated my apartment or cooked for us .Once she made a stew of eggs, beans, greens and any condiment and spice she could find in the fridge and cabinet, including the fish sauce. We all took bites to be nice and then fed our portions to the dogs when she wasn't looking. Poor dogs.

Jen and Sam lost their jobs that winter and survived off of Chips Ahoy. They'd sleep over regularly to do laundry, take showers, smoke giant bong rips. We’d get massively stoned and lounge around listening to music while braiding each other's hair. We always had some new abalone or jade or money or doobie or gossip to share. Our collective favorite drink was a latte with a double shot of Bailey's so when they would sleep over, as a thank you, Jen would always make us Bailey's coffee in the morning. One thing Jen was exceptional at, other than being a phenomenal friend and muse, was making lattes.

Once Jen hosted a dinner party at Coast Gallery, where Henry Miller’s famed water colors hang on the walls. It was just the four of us and Geologist Steve, who was living there at the time. Jen welcomed us at Steve’s door as if it were her own home. The small apartment had access to the latte machine in the commercial kitchen and together we drank at least 10 if not more coffees. She had made little foam hearts in every cup.

High on caffeine we walked out to the balcony where the cafe serve sandwiches and drinks and looked out at the moon shinning off the ocean. There were few clouds in the sky as the marine layer had dispersed and clearly we could see shooting stars falling around us. Thomas took me by my hand and we started to waltz, as we circled around, I caught a glimpse of Sam and Jen, tongues down each other’s throats. It’s silly how when you are young you believe a moment can last forever.

Jen and I were like sisters. We didn't always get along in the beginning and we'd go long spans of time not seeing each other, but we always had the other's back. If I needed a job, she'd find one for me. If she needed to talk, we'd find each other. Once I took her to that dive bar in Seaside every Big Sur local has been to. I forgot the name. It was noon on a Tuesday and the place was packed. We spent too much money on booze and too much time complaining to each other about the difficulties of being us. After a very short lived game of pool, we decided it was time to leave, but as I reached to open the door, a man blocked my exit and said, "Where do you think you're going?" I stood motionless, freaked out, but Jen just swatted him away and walked out of the dark into the daylight without a blink.

Eventually she and Sam made a deal with some deeply loved locals and ended up building their own little shack on a mountainside. Jen found a book on gardening and designed her own, at one point she dug out her own stairway down to the garden. Sam and Jen’s only other source of entertainment was a keyboard piano. When Thomas and I would come to visit, Jen and I would play duets. We were shit at it, but that didn't matter. Jen and Sam were living in a dream world. They forged for seaweed at the beach and dried it. They found a colony of bees and tried to harvest the honey. Two of their four walls were made of glass. They watched and documented the Sobranes Fire from their bed. One day as the fire raged, we climbed on their roof and drank Bailey's coffee from their makeshift kitchen: a tarp, a cooler and a small propane stove

.It's been 3 years since I've seen Jen. Thomas and I ran out of money and options after the Pub closed, so we decided with heavy hearts to move to the other side, my side, of the country. She and Sam broke up about a year after we moved. A poor choice, a painful ending, a breakup I wonder if I could have stopped, had I been there.

Despite the distance, I still shared photos with her, of the dogs, of our wedding, our first born little girl. And Jen has never left us, it wasn't even a week ago Thomas and I were sharing memories about her. I still have the pieces of jade we traded, but I'm realizing now that she's gone, how little of her I still keep. My apartment used to be where she kept her books, her clothes, some memories. Typically when a person you love dies, there's a funeral to attend, a gathering of friends to mourn with, but all I have is Thomas and somehow we'll have to tell Sam. How do you tell someone the greatest love of your life is dead? I'm sure it'll be a few more hours until I find out the details of her passing, a few more hours until the shock wears off and I find myself mourning my friend while playing with my children, doing the dishes or driving in the car.

Everyone has their own idea about what happens after we die. Thomas thinks we live on only in memories and DNA, I think a bit more spiritually than that. Anyway, what we think doesn’t matter. Wherever Jen is, besides in all our hearts, I know she's having a hell of an adventure and I hope someday we can ride those waves again at Asilimar.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Malibu (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 4.- Picnic

Title: Malibu Category: F/F Summary: You’ll be fine, when you learn to move slow. Notes: If you are anything like me, you have had Malibu on repeat ever since Trixie released the single, and, since I can’t get it out of my head, well, this story came to life lol Written: Feb 2nd-3rd, 2020.

Malibu

Trixie hated Tinder, or any dating app for that matter.

Being a gay woman turned her into a target in those platforms. She’d lost count of how many men had offered to ‘change’ her, or the amount of couples that wanted to ‘spice things up’ in the bedroom. Those were the kind of comments that made her leave the app, and forget about it for months, until loneliness hit her again. It usually happened during a Friday or Saturday night, when most of her friends were out having fun, and she found herself eating cheese curds alone in her living room, with nothing good to watch on TV. That was when she would go through the cluster of apps she had labeled as ‘useless’, and click on the infamous flaming icon.

When she promised to take care of her family’s beach house for the weekend, she thought it was going to be so much fun. LA people had proven to be wild, and everybody was supposed to be beyond beautiful in Malibu, but, either her standards were too high or she had been lied to her entire life. Profile after profile and she couldn’t find a single soul that called her attention.

Just when she was about to close the app and maybe take care of herself out of pure boredom, an image appeared.

The blonde girl smiled widely at her with insanely white teeth. Her blue eyes pierced Trixie’s, making her feel as if she were drowning in their depths. There was only one picture, and the obligatory name at the bottom said Katya next to the number thirty-four, stating the girl’s age. Trixie didn’t remember having changed the age range on the thing, she never dated anybody more than five years older than her. Everything seemed off, a bit too suspicious. Nonetheless, she clicked the space that would tell her more about the person. Laughing, she finally swiped right when she read the bio, which could be called anything but that.

Take me to the beach somewhere so I can meet my dead dad.

It was a match. Trixie’s first message had been a joke about absent parents and her being alone in the beach house. Katya replied right away. The string of laughing emojis had seemed a bit of an exaggeration but, after a short exchange, Trixie was already inviting her for lunch the next day.

That was the reason why she was preparing a picnic basket, for them to eat out on the sand. Her favorite pink gingham cloth was folded and placed on top of cucumber sandwiches and fresh fruit. Right after she put a bottle of chilled wine in the basket, the doorbell rang.

With a deep sigh, Trixie rubbed her sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress, and checked her hair on the distorted reflection of the fridge. The heels of her sandals resounded loud in the open space of the living room, she liked that, it made her feel extra feminine. As if the pink flowy dress, the many layers of makeup, and the styled curls were not sufficient statement of that.

Even when she had seen the one picture of the girl, she had not been expecting the person that showed up at her front door. Katya was an unconventional kind of absolute gorgeous. She was shorter than Trixie, and her black chucks didn’t help to increase her height. She wore matching black jeans and an oversized gray t-shirt, the round neck of it was slightly darkened with sweat.

“I just drove forty-five minutes on the Pacific Coast Highway, so this better be a good lay,” were the first words Katya pronounced.

Trixie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, wow! I–”

Before she could continue, the girl burst out laughing. Her hand reached to get a hold of Trixie’s forearm as she shook her head. “I’m joking!” Her face suddenly turned serious as her grip turned tighter. “It can be medium good, I’m not picky.” Without giving Trixie a second the reply she was laughing again. “No, I’m just kidding.”

“You are, like… a lot, aren’t you?” Trixie struggled to find words to describe the ball of energy slightly bouncing in front of her. For a moment, she was afraid her unfiltered mouth had insulted the girl she had just met, but luckily it wasn’t the case.

“Oh, Momma! You haven’t seen anything yet,” the girl promised as she let go of Trixie and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Katya.” The smile that she shot Trixie was brighter than the sun burning above them, and warmer too.

Chills ran down Trixie’s spine as she took Katya’s hand, feeling electricity running through her veins as she shook it. “I’m Trixie. Hello.”

“Oof,” Katya winced, shaking her head and physically taking a step back, away from Trixie. “You need to work on your greeting. That was way too aggressive.”

A scream left Trixie unannounced. She threw her head back in joy as a small ‘you bitch’ left her mouth. She wasn’t complaining, though. Their interaction had been entertaining, to say the least. Trixie could already feel herself liking Katya right from the intro. She invited her in with a smile nailed to her mouth, and a giddy feeling invading her body. It was unlike anything she had felt before, never in her twenty-seven years on Earth had another human made her feel so nervous, yet incredibly comfortable. She was really good at reading people, she could quickly put them in categories and know if they were gonna click or not. Katya was in a category of her own. Trixie, as much as she wanted, couldn’t find a mental compartment where she could place Katya.

The blonde wavy hair bounced with Katya’s steps as she moved around the house. “So, you are rich. I mean, like, Richie Rich rich, huh?” She looked at the expensive furniture, extending and retrieving her hand, almost as if she were scared to touch and ruin anything.

“Not even,” Trixie answered with a roll of her eyes. “My family is, but they always made it very clear that it was their money, not mine.”

Katya nodded, her lips pursing slightly. “Alright. I respect that.” She stopped her examination of the room to look at Trixie. “You’ve got any plans for today?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, fully indicating she had no idea what to do next.

“I thought we could have a picnic, outside by the water,” Trixie replied proudly, she had thought things through carefully. She started walking, making her way towards the kitchen, wordlessly asking the girl to follow her. “Hopefully, you will like what I made.“ She picked up the basket and looked over her shoulder, just to confirm that Katya was indeed walking right behind her.

“Do-do you have any water?” Katya seemed almost anxious as she asked. “I-I don’t drink,” she said pushing her chin towards the basket, where the neck of a bottle stuck out from.

Trixie quickly apologized for not asking, taking the wine out and putting it on the table. She opened the refrigerator and leaned forward. Her short dress was sure to ride up at the position. She could only hope Katya liked what she saw as Trixie pretended to find something else to drink.

“Would you like some kombucha?” She asked as innocently as possible, noticing how Katya’s eyes bolted back to her face.

“Absolutely not,” Katya spoke punctuating her words. It sounded like she was approving of the beverage until the last word was spoken. “I would rather drink the salt water straight from the ocean than that hipster excuse of a drink.”

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie put the glass bottle back to its place. “It’s really good for you, FYI. It has all these–” she turned around, and stopped midsentence when she noticed Katya was no longer in the room. Stretching her neck, Trixie saw that Katya had walked out through the sliding doors and was impatiently waiting for her.

“Come on!” She encouraged as she started walking, the basket dangling in her hand as she easily carried it with her.

Despite the small shake of her head, Trixie found herself smiling. She followed Katya’s path and reached her just when Katya was done setting the sheet down. Trixie dropped next to her on the pink and white piece of fabric, removed her sandals and extended her legs, hoping to get them at least a little bit tanned. Her hand dug into the basket and took out a small container with grapes, offered them to Katya, who gratefully took a handful, before relaxing on her spot.

“What is it that you do, then?” Katya asked around a mouthful of fruit. “How do you make your own money?”

“I’m a hair and makeup artist,” Trixie said with a smile. She loved her job and could talk about it for hours. Katya, however, didn’t seem like the type of person that could hear about hair and makeup for hours. “What about you? You have like zero information on your profile.” Trixie rested her chin on her own shoulder, squinting to get a better view of Katya, who sat on her heels next to her.

There was a sigh and a groan as Katya physically deflated, before she uttered an actual reply. “I just hate those things, you know? I never know what to say. Like, I can’t say I’m a good person. Good people don’t say they are good people! Honestly, I just wanted to put actual facts like: I’m this old, this tall, I weigh this much, and I’m in this area.”

Trixie tilted her head in wonder. “Are you a kitten up for adoption?”

The sounds that came out of Katya were frightening and charming, all at the same time. It was a genuine laughter that sounded more like an old squeaky toy. She spotted a napkin and tried to throw it at Trixie, but the wind pushed it to land on Katya’s lap instead. They both laughed openly, freely, happily. The conversation flowed easily from that point on. They touched on the most basic topics, from immediate family to likes and dislikes. They ate with the sound of the crashing waves as background noise.

It didn’t take an expert to notice they were complete opposites, but it didn’t bother Trixie. She liked the simplicity with which Katya talked about complex subjects. She would quickly jump from one thing to another, seemingly unrelated, but Trixie was sure there was some connection between topics that only Katya understood. If she could have one wish granted, Trixie would like to see inside of Katya’s head, witness how the information bounced off of the walls of her skull, tangled with the wiring of her brain, before coming out of her mouth at a rapid speed.

Something warm filled Trixie’s chest. She had no idea what it was, but it was a nice feeling. She liked the sense of comfort and instant connection she had with the girl bending in laughter next to her. Trixie wanted to run her hand through Katya’s hair, let her fingers caress those sharp cheekbones, touch every single one of her soft curves and create a mental map of her body. Katya was so beautiful, so smart, so out of her league.

“Why did you agree to meet me?” Trixie suddenly asked without even thinking about it. She sat up straight, realizing she really wanted to know the answer. “Like, I’m clearly not your type, why did you even swipe right?”

The question took Katya by surprise. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Trixie intensely. Although, Trixie had to wonder if there was anything about Katya that wasn’t intense.

“Okay, first of all, you don’t even know what my type is.” Katya pointed an accusative finger at Trixie before continuing. “I don’t have a type. Never had. I like people, and I like sex even more, preferebly with people.” She extended her hands in front of her, as if highlighting the relation between the two. “Now, about you. I don’t know. I liked your tits, and then you got my Contact reference… I knew I had to meet you after that.” She punctuated the end of her speech with an approving nod.

Trixie’s nose scrunched up. “What reference?”

“The dead dad on the beach one?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Katya’s mouth opened in surprise. “Contact? Jodie Foster?” She asked, getting a head shake in return to each of her questions. “Didn’t you message me about wanting to meet your dad, who was dead, at the beach somewhere?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I never met my dad, so he’s probably dead, and I’m currently staying in Malibu.”

“Oh, my God!” Katya brought her hands to her hair as she yelled. “I can’t believe this. It’s all a lie. I’ve been tricked. When were you planning to tell me? When–” The rest of the question died on her lips as Trixie’s mouth crashed with her.

It was clumsy at first, Katya wasn’t done ranting, and Trixie was only trying to shut her up. Their faces bumped into each other a couple of times before they both relaxed and finally kissed. Trixie sucked Katya’s bottom lip, biting slightly. The sound that came out of Katya was so sexy that Trixie had to press her thighs together, putting pressure where she needed it the most. The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Katya. Her hands landed on Trixie’s hips, pulling her to a kneeling position. Their torsos pressed together, breasts rubbing to the erratic movements of their heavy breathing.

Trixie felt turned on beyond knowledge, all she knew how to identify were Katya’s lips wrapped around hers. Katya tasted sweet and salty, like the fruit they had shared mixed with the breeze of the ocean. There was an almost unidentifiable flavor, a strong aftertaste that lingered in Trixie’s tongue after it ran against Katya’s.

“Do you smoke?” Trixie asked against Katya’s lips, not breaking the kiss, but pulling away enough to speak.

Katya’s hand ran up Trixie’s thigh, squeezing slightly. “Would you mind if I said yes?”

Gasping to the touch of Katya’s cold hand, Trixie threw her head back. “As long as you don’t…” She lost her train of thought as Katya’s hand went higher. “If you do– oh!” She yelped as a finger ran against her underwear. “God, just fuck me, okay?” Her knees spread, giving Katya better access.

“Not here, though,” Katya spoke as she kissed Trixie’s chin. “This is not exactly a private beach.”

Trixie opened one eye, among the fog of desire she could see the figures of a family playing ball. “Fine. Let’s go inside.”

Taking Katya by the hand, Trixie stood up and started walking towards the house. She didn’t care about the stuff they were leaving behind. Nothing really occupied her mind other than having Katya on top of her, inside of her, all around her. She could feel her legs shaking with expectation. It had been a long time since she last had sex, but she wasn’t nervious. She, somehow, knew she could trust Katya. They seemed to have some sort of astral connection, and Trixie wondered how they could apply that nonverbal communication in the bedroom.

Unfortunately, the bedroom proved to be too far away. As soon as they entered the kitchen through the glass doors, the kissing restarted. Trixie pushed her own back against the nearest wall and allowed Katya to press her entire body on top of hers. It was all too much. The heat emanating Katya tickled her skin, making Trixie shiver. Their mouths attacked each other as hands landed on every spot of uncovered skin.

Katya snaked her hands under Trixie’s dress and squeezed her ass, forcing Trixie to release her mouth as she gasped in pleasure. Katya caressed the soft skin of her butt lovingly, taking her time to enjoy the feeling of the fleshy cheeks under her fingers.

“I’m gonna eat you out now, is that okay?”

Trixie could do nothing but nod at such formal request. Still in disbelief, she saw how Katya dropped to her knees. Her big smile was the last thing Trixie saw before her eyes shut by themselves. Katya’s hands found the hem of Trixie’s dress and lifted the skirt, before disappearing inside and pulling the small thong down slowly. Trixie felt a finger running up and down her entrance, circling around where she so desperately needed to be touched.

“Katya, please,” Trixie shamelessly begged, and it worked.

She felt the wet tongue pushing flat against her most sensitive spot. Her knees bent slightly, she extended her arms and tried to find support between the glass door and the cabinets next to her. Katya licked her skillfully. Her lips sucked and released her just right, her tongue flicked at the perfect pace. And as if fucking her with her mouth wasn’t enough, Katya pushed a finger inside without warning. Trixie screamed loudly, thankful that the houses were fairly far apart so the neighbours couldn’t hear them. Her sounds only grew higher in pitch as another finger was introduced, and then a third.

Time fully stopped as Trixie sunk down on Katya’s fingers, pleasuring herself at the rhythm she wanted. Her senses felt on the edge of an overload as Katya ate her out simultaneously.

“Pluh-please, stop,” Trixie asked, panting.

In a quick move, Katya removed the dress from around her head with her free hand. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Then why you asked me to stop, bitch?”

Trixie looked to the side, almost shying away from the question. “I don’t wanna… not like this, not without you.”

Sighing deeply, Katya removed her hand carefully, and stood up. “So you are one of those lesbians, huh? You don’t wanna fuck, you want to make love.” She drawled the last word, making fun of the concept.

“Excuse me?” Trixie didn’t try to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Katya took the short sleeve of her shirt and tried to dry her chin as she spoke. “C’mon. You know what I mean. I thought we were just gonna get laid, and you put together a-a stupid picnic date? For fuck’s sake. Who does that? Gross.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I wanted to do something nice for us.”

“For us?” Katya spun around with her hands in the air. “There is no us, Brenda! We literally just met. We talked once, on a hook up app. We were not even having the same conversation! I thought it was all about Contact and you were spilling your childhood trauma. What the fuck! How did you even get picnic from that?”

Crossing her arms on top of her chest, Trixie distanced herself from Katya. It took every cell of will power to step away from her underwear without picking it up, and Trixie still didn’t know if leaving it there was less shameful.

“You need to leave.”

“Oh, but we were just gonna make playlists that reminded us of our first date.” Katya pouted theatrically, stomping her feet hard on the ground.

Trixie didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “Now!” She shouted, pointing towards the door.

Without another word, Katya stormed out, slamming the door behind herself. Trixie stared at the piece of wood, expecting something from it without knowing what it was. She breathed deeply once, twice, the third time never came. A sob cut through her chest, coming out in a guttural scream. Katya was right. Trixie was smitten since the moment she laid eyes on Katya, and not even in person, just one look at the single picture and she was gone. She understood then that the first step of being let down was getting her hopes up. It had to stop.

One day. Trixie allowed herself one day to wallow. It wasn’t even about Katya, she reasoned. She needed a moment to analyze her motives, then she would pick the pieces back up and move on with her life. Her mind was blank for the entire day. She turned off her phone, put on some baking show on Netflix, and ate microwave popcorn straight from the bag. It had been a day of nothing but self pity and indulging in all the things she knew were bad for her.

Monday came and reality kicked back in. She went to her job at the studio and tried to entertain conversation with B-list celebrities as she got them ready for their low ratings shows. That was something she was good at, something she was confident about. Just like that, she fell back into a routine and the pity party was left behind. At least for the rest of the week. Once Friday reached her again, and she was in no mood to look after her drunk friends, she felt loneliness wanting to creep back in.

Her fingers found the useless folder and clicked on the app by themselves. Between the many unread messages sitting on her inbox, the red bubble next to Katya’s face called her attention. She opened the conversation, just to make the notification go away, but what she saw was something she hadn’t expected. There was a string of messages from Katya asking her to talk, the last one left her phone number, notifying Trixie that would be her last attempt and she should call her if she felt like it.

It took less than a minute of pondering before the call was already connecting.

Katya picked up on the third ring, just when Trixie was about to hang up.

“Who is this? I don’t have this number saved. Are you a scammer?”

Trixie had to laugh at Katya’s words, that were in no shape or form a greeting. Apparently, her laughter worked as an introduction because Katya’s voice immediately changed.

“Trixie, is that you? Fuck. I didn’t think you were gonna call.”

“Hello,” Trixie said as softly as possible, remembering what Katya had said about working on her greeting.

“Hey, that’s so much better! Hi. Listen, I want… please, don’t hang up. I will go straight to the point. I’m sorry. I was rude and mean, and you didn’t deserve all the fucked up things that I said to you.”

A small smirk was slowly forming on her lips. “Go on,” Trixie encouraged her.

Even when she couldn’t see her, Trixie could tell Katya was also smiling by now. “I like you, I like you a lot. This is just so new to me. I’m used to, you know, using the hook up app to hook up. I went there looking for a one time thing, not to, like, stay. Never expected to find… you. I’ve never been with a type like you before.”

For a moment, Trixie wished she was using a land line. She so desperately wanted to twist her finger around the phone cord. “And what is my type?”

“You know, pretty girls who are out of this world funny. All the hyper-femmes I’ve found are hot on the body but empty in the head; and boring. God, you have no idea how boring hot girls can be.” A frustrated groan escaped her, but she recovered right away, as if the actual reason for the call had suddenly hit her. “I just… could you, maybe, give me another chance? It’s stupid but all I can think about is being in Malibu with you again. I’ll prepare the dumb picnic this time. Although, I can’t promise we won’t be eating, like, old batteries and drinking Red Bulls. That’s probably all the things that can be found in my bag right now, but–”

“Oh, my God! Stop!” Trixie shouted between giggles. “If what you wanted was to annoy me into accepting, you can stop now.”

Katya’s whizzing laughter travelled through miles and miles until it digitally filled Trixie’s ears.

“So, is that a yes? Can we give it another go?”

“Yes, you idiot. I’ll go out with you again.”

“Marvellous, darling! Pick you up tomorrow, same place?”

On her end of the line, Trixie shook her head. “I actually live in Century City. You can pick me up here and we’ll go to Malibu. We can even work on those playlists on our way.”

Loud laughter was heard before Katya spoke again. “Deal. Bring the Red Bulls, I’ll bring the batteries.”

Trixie smiled, pressing her cheek against the cold glass of her cellphone. “Please, don’t feed me batteries. We can go to a restaurant or something.”

“No,” Katya stated solemnly. “We’ll have a picnic. That’s gonna be our thing, I’ve declared it. See you tomorrow, then?”

“See you tomorrow. Good night.” Just before she hung up, Trixie heard Katya calling her name. “Yeah?”

“We’ll be fine. Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie agreed. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, more to herself than the emptiness coming from the device, indicating that the call had ended. “I’ll be fine.”

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #smut #lesbian au #of lovers #dendenmonmon #submission

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fantastic-fantasy-fanfics · 5 years

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HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

link to the sing is HERE

A/N: a little pick-me-up before the weekend

Sam Wilson x reader

Word count: 1590

Summary: For some reason, a mission was scheduled over Christmas, leaving you and Sam separated for the holidays

Warnings: lots of swearing

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

When you pine for the sunshine of a friendly gaze

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

Why did Fury have to do this to him? Well, everyone on the mission was pissed, but especially Sam. Who the hell PLANS a mission that extends over Christmas? Instead of being cuddled up on the couch watching Christmas movies with his girl or thrift shopping for quirky white elephant gifts with his friends, Sam was stuck in the middle of northern Canada.

“Pass me another blanket?” Bucky shivered, trying to turn up the shifty motel’s crappy heater. That poor machine was running the best it could and still the heat it was cranking out was barely enough to make the room above freezing temperature.

“There are only three blankets and you already have two of them,” Sam sassed, struggling to open the pack of Oreos he’d purchased at the gas station. Damn things froze in the car! They were solid as a rock! “And there’s no way in hell I’m giving mine up,”.

Steve rolled his eyes, opening the multiple cans of soup they bought and dumping them into a large bowl. “Ladies, calm down! I don’t want to get kicked out of the only shelter we have right now because of your yelling,” he grumbled, covering the bowl with a paper towel and putting it in the grimy microwave.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee, and he was headin' for

Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie

From Pennsylvania folks are travellin'

Down to Dixie's sunny shore

From Atlantic to Pacific

Gee the traffic is terrific!

Steve handed everyone a mug of hot soup. Unfortunately, they didn’t have spoons so they had to drink their soup like unemployed college students. It was inconvenient, they weren’t about to complain about a hot meal. “Eat up,” Steve hummed, sitting by his friends on the floor, which was, by far, much cleaner than the beds.

Sam grinned up at him, thanking him briefly. “Here Cap, take this,” he said, giving Steve his blanket, “that suit isn’t enough to keep you warm,”.

“Aw, Sam, you don’t have to do that, you need it more than I do,” Steve said, pushing the quilt back into Sam’s clenched fist.

“Take it, I’ll be okay,” he insisted, “if winter boo bear over here won’t share, then I will,”. He chuckled a bit, glaring over at Buck, who had bundled himself up like a little homeless lady.

“Hey! Part of my body is fucking metal! I’M COLD,” Bucky defended, wrapping himself up tighter into the blanket nest.

“So Fury says we’ll be stuck here longer than he thought… we might not be back until the new year,” Steve sighed, knowing neither of his teammates would like it.

“What? C’mon, man, I promised (Y/N) I’d be back before then!” Sam groaned, “I’ve been gone since the beginning of the month! She’s had to spend this whole holiday season alone,”.

“I know, Sam, I know…” Steve nodded, trying to keep him calm, “it’s less than ideal, we all have people at home we’d rather be with than out in… the arctic,”.

Sam just scowled at Steve, sick of him and Fury’s bullshit. “Nah man, I ain’t taking this! (Y/N) and I had this whole Christmas planned!” he ranted, nearly spilling his already cold soup, “instead of sneaking slices of rum cake when she’s not looking or hiding mistletoe around the apartment, I’m stuck here, with two other dudes, one of whom I’m pretty sure has fleas!”.

Bucky punched Sam’s arm with his metal one. Damn, that vibranium really was cold!

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

If you want to be happy in a million ways

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket, waking him up from his uncomfortable sleep. He was still freezing his tail feathers off (that joke was not as funny as Bucky thought it was when he said it) but the heater seemed to be working better. He groaned, cracking his stiff back before answering the facetime call. “Hello?” he groaned, yawning.

“Hi baby,” you greeted, smiling at him.

Sam immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. He got up and jogged to the bathroom so he could turn on lights and talk to you in private. “Hey sugar, how’s my girl doin’?” he smiled, eyes shining at you.

“Lonely without you,” you replied, “how’s Canada?”.

“Fucking freezing,” he scoffed, “and Barnes keeps hogging blankets,”.

“Oh, I know how you feel. That’s what Wanda did on our last mission to Russia,” you hummed, getting more comfortable on the couch, “I heard Fury is pushing back the return date,”.

“Yeah….” he sighed, “it sucks, but I guess that’s what being an Avenger means; long work hours,”.

You grinned, laughing half-heartedly. “I’m trying my best on my end to get you guys home,” you said, hoping that’d make him feel better.

“Eh, good luck with that, Fury's as stubborn as they come,” he sighed, “so what have you been up to? I hope you’re still having fun, despite all this,”.

“I am,” you nodded, getting up to show him the pumpkin spice cake you made, flipping the camera. “I made a lot of goodies! Chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter bars,” you listed, padding to the kitchen, “and a spice c- HEY!”. You caught Wanda and Nat stealing treats. You shooed them away as they slunk off like raccoons with their plates and mouths full.

Sam laughed at the scene the camera was capturing. “I see the ladies have taken over for me while I’m away,” he chuckled, “there better be sweets for me when I get back!”

“Oh there will be,” you grinned, putting a lid over the cake to keep it safe, “and a few presents, and a clean bed, and a hot shower, and a big blanket that you don’t have to share,”.

“That sounds so good right now,” he sighed, closing his eyes, fantasizing about coming home, “damn I can’t wa-”

“SAM! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Bucky groaned from his blanket cocoon by the heater, his voice muffled by the various noises in the hotel room, “THE BATHROOM ECHOES!”.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later baby, okay?” Sam whispered, catching the kiss you blew to him through the phone, “love you,”.

“Love you more,” you grinned, hanging up.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee and he was headin' for

Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie

From Pennsylvania folks are travellin'

Down to Dixie's sunny shore

From Atlantic to Pacific

Gee the traffic is terrific!

Sam plopped down into the car, very ready to fall asleep. “Do we have to go back to the motel? I’m pretty sure sleeping in here would be more hygenic,” he sighed, taking off his goggles, the eyewear having left uncomfortable imprints on his skin.

Not that the car was too much better. It was an old, rented van from a sketchy rental place. Steve advocated for a smaller, but newer minivan, but Fury insisted that this would be less inconspicuous.

“Actually, yes, We do have to go back,” Steve hummed proudly, “Fury said there were extra supplies dropped off for us,”.

Bucky and Sam let out a tired ‘woo’. “Does that include a space heater?” Buck asked, taking his boots off, “or better mattresses?”.

Steve smirked, feeling truly proud of himself. “Well, my ‘nagging’ worked, and we’re now staying in Holiday Inn,” he answered, “clean beds, free breakfast, and functioning showers,”.

The other men let out a more enthusiastic ‘woo’ this time, somewhat surprised that Fury caved. Normally he’d tell Steve to, “shut up and quit your bitching,”.

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

If you want to be happy in a million ways

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

The boys walked into the hotel, smiling as the heated air warmed up their cold bodies, the snow clinging to their uniforms melting away. “Much better,” Bucky grinned, flopping face down onto the clean couch in the little sitting area.

“Who wants dinner? There’s plenty here!” Steve cheered, opening the fully stocked fridge, “ooh, even spice cake!”.

Sam paused for a minute. “Spice cake?” he thought to himself, “Steve I don’t think it was you who convinced Fury to send us here,”.

Steve raised a quizzical brow. “Well it certainly wasn’t Buck,” he said, throwing an apple at the sleeping assassin’s head.

Peeking your head out of the closet, you surprised the boys by shouting, “MERRY FUCKIN’ CHRISTMAS!”. Buck was so surprised he fell off the couch with a hardy, "oof,".

“(Y/N)?” Sam greeted, giving you a big hug and kiss, “you did all this?". You nodded. "How… how did you pull it off? How did you convince Fury?”.

“I didn’t. Natasha just took over the mission and I convinced her,” you grinned, snuggling into Sam’s side, “figured I’d pay a visit as well…”.

“But-” Sam stammered, confused, “why not stay home? Or shorten the mission?”.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Fury is right, there is a lot of work to be done here,” you sighed, squeezing his hand, “and I am home. I’m with you,”.

__________________

TAGLIST

#sam wilson #falcon #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #aryschristmaswritingspree #arys christmas writing spree #fantastic-fantasy-fanfics

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voidselfshipp · 4 years

Note

ALL the asks for my brother, Vega >:D

YOU ABSOLUTE MADMAN W H A T

STILL GONNA DO IT BUT HOLY SHIT---

🎨 How would you describe your ship aesthetic? (Include a moodboard if you like!)

I gotta do a moodboard abt him but uh,spanish matador stuff,artsy things,paint all over shirts and roses(and sunflowers)

🎁 Have you and your FO(s) given each other any meaningful gifts, material or otherwise? What are they and why are they special?

Oh Man,Vega gave me a rodochrosite pendant for my necklace,its special bc its my country's National gemstone plus it is said it helps with creativity ,and I tried to get my hands on one of these for a while and I couldnt get it!and there comes Vega with it.

I gifted Him this portrait of himself bc OFC it took me ages to get it done realisticly since thats not my style,and he has it hanged on his shadaloo headquarters,behind the painting theres a note " Sos más precioso que el amanecer y el atardecer juntos" (youre more beautiful than the sunset and sunrise combined), its just a little reminder of even when he fails he is still perfect to me.

📖 Is there a quote/lyric that fits you and your FO(s)?

well I might as well put the whole song "You give love a bad name" or "Mama tells me I shouldnt bother,that I ought yo stick to another Man,a Man who surely deserves me,but I think you do" from lovefool

(Though I preffer the covers by Postmodern Jukebox)

🐚 What do you do to feel close to each other when you have to be apart?

Well I sometimes message him,or Grab his shirt,or talk as if he was there.

Well for him is either message or stare at the painting I gave him.

🤗 How do you and your FO(s) express affection for each other? Do you tend to engage in PDA?

Vega is not full on on PDA bcs all shadaloo members Will tease the ever living hell out of him,but in home hes so clingy.

Arm around my waist,or a peck on the lips, he lays down on my chest and puts my hands on his hair,not caring if I have my hands busy.

🧗‍♂️ Are you and/or your FO(s) the adventurous types? What kind of adventures do you undergo together?

Im more of stay at home,but every now and then I go out with him and cause some trouble ;)

💋 What are the kisses you share typically like? What kind of kisses do you prefer? (eg. ‘good morning’ kiss, ‘i missed you’ kiss, kisses in the rain, etc.)

All kisses are good,but I love unexpected ones, im cooking?kiss, he is cleaning his claw? KISS.

😚 What was your first kiss with your FO(s) like? How did you and your FO(s) react?

Oof,my first kiss with Vega was uh,kind of unexpected (of you read Bewitching Eyes youll know).

But since thats more of a fic than what really happened idk. (Though my first kiss with him was when he got all sad bc his narcissistic ass failed on something and he felt bad).

🧸 Do you have any items irl that remind you of your FO(s)?

Well that gemstone pendant,but I wanna get something proper!.

🍯 Do you and your FO (s) use pet names for each other?

Ooof yes! All in spanish...and theres Plenty of them!

📚 How do you spend your free time together? Do you usually go out or do you prefer to stay in?

Well I tend to stay at home,cuddles,movie or him hanging out while I paint.

💕 Would a stranger meeting you and your FO(s) for the first time be able to tell that you’re together? If so, how would they be able to tell?

HOOOO BOY when hes not in shadaloo he get so so clingy, he Will wrap himself around me and walk like that.

🥰 What was the first thing that attracted you to your FO(s)? What was the first thing that attracted them to you? Who fell first?

Oh Man....

So uh,what first attracted me to Vega was the fact that he was a spaniard ( I HAVE A TYPE)

And him...idk,people tend to tell me either my eyes or my personality so idk ?

OH AND I FELL FIRST TRUST ME.

🌱 How have you and your FO(s) changed each others’ lives?

Well, Vega does Keep stuff interesting around my other f/os so y'know, a bit of spice every now and then, but hes a fresh batch of air bc I dont usually go for fighting game f/os so its all New!.

And how I changed his life? Hmmm well i do see him acting just a tiny bit more humble,just a tiny bit bcs hes Vega,and he is starting to let himself be less harsh on himself .

🦒 Is there a height difference between you and your FO(s)? Do you have to make any accommodations because of this? (eg. pulling the other down to kiss them, the taller one lifting up the shorter one to reach high shelves, etc.)

Hes a tall boyo,and im 5'5 SO IMAGINE,but for everything he lifts me up.

😘 Which of you is the tease? Is the seduction a success?

Vega is a tease,and ofc its a succes,im too in love and he knows it.

👀 Any spicy headcanons about your FO(s)/your relationship?

He has a hair pulling kink, I gotta disclose this, ELIZABETH THIS IS TEASING MATERIAL IM HANDING THIS TO YOU ON A SILVER PLATE.

Also loves plenty of hickeys (were no-one can see them).

🕯 How would you and your FO(s) pass the time if the power went out?

I sleep until it comed back up, so sleeping togheter!.

💘 How did you and your FO(s) meet? What was your first interaction like? Was it love at first sight or did you take some time to warm up to each other?

I fell for him at first sight,he took some time but y'know ;) .

🤩 What do you most admire about your FO(s)? What do they admire most about you?

I admire his fighting skills, I CANNOT fight im too pacific for that( except when I get mad)

And idk what he admires about me...I should ask him (more like interrogate him) bc he wont admit shit.

I THINK ITS ALL OF THEM????????????

MAN THAT WAS A MOUTHFUL HOLY FUCK

#f/o community #f/o #romantic f/o #f/o x s/i #my f/os #self shipping #self insert #self ship #f/os #f/o tag #f/o ask #ask #villain f/o #vega

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tarnishedhalo · 5 years

Note

2, 3, 7 and 11 x

What Were You Thinking || Accepting

2. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

So when I was fifteen, right, my dad decided that since he was getting divorced he no longer had to commit to being the head of the household, and took a year long rotation on one of the hospital ships {The Mercy, if you’re wondering}, and it became my job to make sure my baby sister...she’s five years younger than me...got fed. So I learned a lot about cooking. Which is a pain in the ass when she had very specific tastes even then.When I enlisted, it was all lean proteins and muscle-building carbs. Tasted like shit, looked about as good but it kept you up and kept you moving.

It wasn’t until after the Accident that I realised I couldn’t eat that way I had and still keep myself in the same shape I was used to being. So back to the old days, only with more refined.I’m a sucker for a porterhouse or any other good steak, medium rare. Red wine pan sauce. Garlic onion. I can’t do anything super mushy. Just can’t do it. As for spice? I learned in the Sand Box that pain is a flavour. I’ve cut down on my standard 3,500 calorie load to a more reasonable 1,800 to maybe 2k...2.5 k...and sometimes that’s more liquid than anything else.

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

“Jesus fuck...you know those people who chew their gum with their mouth open like a cow working through the biggest piece of cud on the planet? The kind of chewing that you can hear from three hundred clicks away? That. That drives me up a fucking wall. People who text and drive, especially when they got a kid in the car, I wanna fucking arrest on the spot. People who say Pacific when they mean “specific”....”And Riley will go on for hours about this if you let him.

7. Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at thier own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to? A Dog? A Houseplant? A rock with a smiley face painted on?

Riley has literally raised his sister. He was five when she was born and before her mother or their father got to hold Beth, she was tucked into Riley’s arms. When she began having night-terrors starting around the age of 6 months, she would only quiet down if she were in the same room with him. So the crib was moved into his room. When she outgrew the crib, they shared the same bed for the next eight years, and there’s still times when, as adults, she’ll curl up with him.Their parents divorced when she was ten, and Riley became her not-legal-guardian, getting them both to school on time. Keeping the bills paid and food cooked and on the table. He guided her through her teenage years and didn’t leave her until she went to college at the age of sixteen.He’s also a fully qualified retired Air Force Para Rescue man. He can keep anyone alive for a week.Except goldfish. This he doesn’t understand, and never will.11. What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

Riley is a surprisingly talented guitarist, and has a more than half-descent singing voice.

“But...one of the songs that just... so typically when we were on deck, waiting for take off, or waiting for the bay doors to open, we put the loudest, nastiest rock we could get our hands on to drown shit out and focus our minds... and one of my favourites was always Disturbed’s Indestructible. Or anything by Five-finger Death Punch.”

#Thanks hun!#The Modern Day Cowboy|Andrew No Shame Riley #The Man in the Black Hat|Answered Asks #cw: long post #a-kitten-with-claws

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kukuiolelo · 6 years

Text

Da Kine: A Hawaiian!Hunk Fic

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Pairings: Background Keith/Lance

Summary: "Uh, Hunk, buddy, did you just call Coran ‘Uncle’?” The Paladins are far from home, really really far. As the mission goes on, Hunk begins to fall back into habits he tried to leave a thousand light years away on a small island chain in the middle of the Pacific.

AO3

Uncle

The first time was a slip up.

The night had been going pretty smoothly, Hunk thought, all things considered. They, that is to say the team, was gathered in the communal living space in wing of the castle that was designated a “meeting area,” mostly due to its proximity to food and copious soft furniture.

The meetings original objective, to debrief on the latest Galra abomination of the week, was abandoned quickly in favor of Lance and Keith's latest tiff. The details were fuzzy, but what mattered was Lance had Keith in a headlock who was, in turn, kicking at him in the shins.

“It’s like some strange mating ritual,” Pidge observed from her position on the arm of the couch. Hunk hummed his agreement and went back to doodling schematics on the back of some scrap paper. “You know,” Pidge said, “It’s a wonder they haven't gotten over themselves and just… Is Keith turning blue to you?”

Keith was, in fact, turning slightly purple, due to Galra or lack of oxygen, it was not clear. He kicked at Lance with a renewed vigor, cursing him out, only partially in English. “I wonder what that is, the language, I mean,” Hunk said, looking up from the table.

Pidge hummed, “I think it’s Korean. Something like, 'fuck you', I think.”

"How'd you know?" Hunk asked.

"I used to listen to a lot of kpop"

“Huh,” Hunk said, “fucking weeabo.” Pidge flipped him off absentmindedly, still staring blankly at the fight.

Allura looked up at the boys, pursing her lips. She nudged Shiro in the side, and when he didn't respond, she elbowed him a bit harder, and harder, and harder until he curled away from her, holding his side, and whispered a betrayed ‘ow!’ She looked at him pointedly, before turning her eyes sharply to look at Lance, who was whispering something in what was probably some very creative Spanish.

Shiro responded to her glare with a blank look and a shrug of his shoulders. She rolled her eyes with a huff, and repeated the motion, this time punctuating each look with a punch to the shoulder. His head tilted to the side with yet another pondering look, before realization dawned and he nodded.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough,” Shiro said. He marched up to the pair, who fell apart reluctantly. “Besides Lance, your form is sloppy, you need to turn your elbow in more. Here, like this.” He then proceeded to demonstrate said technique on a very indignant Lance, much to the amusement of his former victim. Allura put her fingers to her temples, taking in a deep breath

Hunk slapped his knees with finality and stood. “Well, I’m out,” Hunk said, “I’m going to go make dinner.”

Coran popped out of his seat as well. “I’ll come help lad,” he said. “I imagine you could use and extra pair of hands.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk said as he gathered his papers. “Thanks Uncle.”

The chatter fell silent for a moment. Shiro glanced up from his captive, who wriggled free of his hold. Allura turned towards Coran with a quizzical expression, who only shrugged. Finally, Lance spoke, rubbing his neck, “Uh, Hunk, buddy, did you just call Coran ‘uncle’?”

Hunk started. “What? No, no,” Hunk shook his head, hands held up. “No, I called him, um… shmunkle?”

Keith cocked his head to the side, “Shmunkle?”

Hunk stuttered. “It’s a- well I- and- Oh, shut up.”

Pidge scooted forward on the couch and had taken to looking at him over interlaced fingers. She looked calculating, studying, the same way she was over a perplexing line of code, and seemed about to say something. Before she could, Lance chipped in.

“Is there something you’re not telling us bud?” Lance said, a playful gleam in his eyes, “Do we have two part aliens on the team, I mean if anyone was going to be Altean it would be you, besides me of course-” Hunk glanced over at Shiro with a pleading look. He saw Shiro nod imperceptibly before he stepped forward.

“Alright guys,” Shiro cut in, “Leave him alone.”

Hunk shot Shiro a grateful look. He cleared his throat and four pairs of eyes turned to him. “Right,” he said, “As I was saying, any votes on dinner?”

The team shouted out their input, ‘not goo’ being the dominant sentiment. Hunk flashed a thumbs up before running back to the kitchen, the door slamming behind him. He could still hear the others talking from the other side of the door.

“So Coran’s our uncle now?” There was a general murmur of confusion and assent. Hunk scoffed and rolled his eyes.

A pause, and then, “Lance is this another one of your mee-mees?”

Lance groaned. “It’s pronounced memes, Keith, we’ve been over this!”

“But it’s spelled mee-mee.”

“No- well yes technically, but it's pronounced- You know it feels like you’re just fucking with me at this point.”

“Then why is it spelled mee-mee?”

“Dude, I don’t know!”

Pidge piped in. “English is a garbage fire.” Shiro, Keith, Lance, and surprisingly Allura seemed to agree with this.

At that moment, Coran stepped into the kitchen. He grinned, twirling his moustache. “So, Uncle...”

Hunk buried his face in his hands. “Long story Coran.”

Coran chuckled. “If you say so lad”

Hunk shot him a look. “Seriously, long story.” He turned towards the refrigerating unit and considered its contents. Uncle, that was a slip. Hunk wasn’t embarrassed of his upbringing, not really. He didn’t have an accent like a lot of people did, his English at the Garrison was 100% mainlander. But, old habits die hard, he thought, and he had been on the mainland for quite a while, long enough that his team would barely comment on any slightly less than middle America peculiarities. That being said, they did tend to pry, and with how much everyone missed their families and their home, that stone was better left unturned.

He closed the fridge with an armful of ingredients and threw a purple thing at Coran. “Mince this for me, I’ll start on the starch.” He turned to the counter and started cooking, and by the time he put dinner on the table, the Uncle incident was all but forgotten.

Loco Moco

When time zones cease to exist, one’s circadian rhythms can become slightly out of whack. It was a few hours before the castle would wake up and the lights would brighten. Hunk padded into the kitchen and fumbled along the walls for the light dimmer. The lights turned on with a small whine.

The fridge was stocked well enough. A trip to a nearby planet, one with a downright toxic atmosphere but surprisingly edible animal products, had stocked them with a good supply of meat and what could pass as eggs. Hunk pondered the contents of the fridge. The others wouldn’t be up any time soon. Yesterday’s mission, yet another standoff with the Galra fleet, had been rough. Keith, after charging headfirst through a line of battle cruisers, was really dinged up, and Shiro, who’d been targeted again by the main destroyer class command ship, looked like shit. After that, no one would muster the effort or wakefulness to eat together any time before noon.

And that’s why Hunk was now standing, bleary eyed in front of the alien fridge at what must be around four AM, Earth time, pondering what to eat for breakfast. There was meat, lots of it, and a good few dozen of the egg-like things. It felt like an age since Hunk had made a good breakfast for himself, and only himself. In fact, the last time was back home. His mom had spent the night on the North Shore with a friend from school and Hunk was left the house to himself for the morning. He got up around seven and started on a good, heavy, traditional local meal, with meat and eggs and rice and...

Hunk started to grab ingredients out of the fridge, some minced fatty meat, three of the egg-like things, leftover grains from a few nights ago. He didn’t have exactly the right spices, and the milk always made things taste a bit like paperclips, but it would do. He began mixing the meat, eggs, and a few approximate spices. As long as it had been, it wasn’t a recipe you forget. Hell, it wasn’t a recipe you even had to remember. All you had to do was make a hamburger patty, make some gravy, and fry an egg. Hunk proceeded to do just this, frying up his components and stirring together a gravy over the still disconcertingly cyan cooktop. Just as he began to plate his food, the door slid open to reveal Lance, resplendent in his fuzzy bathrobe and facemask.

“Morning Lance,” Hunk said, returning to the task at hand. “How are you?”

Lance shuffled towards the machine that made a liquid almost like coffee. “Better than Keith, that’s for sure,” he said, “Yesterday was a fucker.” He took a sip of his coffee and moaned. “God, how are you even awake?”

Hunk shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” He placed the fried eggs in the bowl and went to load the dishwasher. He came back to see Lance leaning over the table to stare into his bowl with a mix of curiosity and horror.

“What even is this dude?” he said, poking at the bowl with a fork. “Is that a hamburger and gravy? I can feel my pores clogging just looking at this. Hey, Pidge!”

Pidge stuck her head through the door looking like for all the world like a bespectacled owl who’s gone through a wind turbine. She stumbled through the room and dropped herself in the seat across from Lance and dropped her head on the table with a thunk. After a few seconds of tired mumbling, she reached across the table to snag Lance’s coffee and downed it in a few gulps, staunchly ignoring his affronted stuttering. Finally, she looked back up at the pair and blinked. “What?”

“Um, Pidge,” Hunk said, “have you slept?”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

“Yeah, also the dead,” Lance said.

“Same difference.” She looked into her, formally Lance’s, cup and groaned. “Get me coffee?”

Lance sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” He took Pidge’s cup.

Hunk looked at her with worry. “Pidge you really should sleep.”

Pidge waved him off. “Sleep later, coffee now.” The coffee machine hissed and bubbled and Lance came back with two cups, one for himself and one for Pidge. “Fuck, yes.” She grabbed the cup from the table and took another sip. “So yeah, you wanted something. What?”

Hunk took a minute to remember what she was referring to. Lance, however, beat him to the punch, and pointed at the bowl on the counter. “Look at that, tell me it doesn’t look like heart disease.”

Pidge leaned over the bowl. “Is that gravy and eggs?” she said. “Hunk what is this?”

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a loco moco,” he said, “just some food from back home.”

Lance stalled, staring at the bowl, and blinked. “Crazy boogers? Loco moco. Crazy boogers. Seriously?”

Pidge, still staring into the bowl, smacked her lips tiredly and looked up at Hunk. “It looks like hangover food, dude.”

Hunk pulled the bowl away from the pair with an affronted huff. “How would you know, you’re like, what, twelve?”

Lance put his hands together in a ‘let’s talk about this’ way. “Seriously, it’s called crazy boogers. Why is a food from your home called crazy boogers?”

Hunk sighed. “I don’t know, it just is.” He sat down and took a bite. “Damn, needs shoyu.” Lance and Pidge looked at him, befuddled. Hunk corrected. “Soy sauce.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, “Just use butter and salt.” Both Hunk and Lance looked at her in horror.

Hunk pulled his dish away from her further. “Don’t you dare.”

Lance seemed to shake himself. “Seriously, crazy boogers-”

Hunk dropped his head and groaned. “Oh my god, guys,” he said, “Let me eat in peace.” He took another bite out of the hamburger. “Or I will be making these for breakfast for a week.”

Lance raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right.” He nudged Pidge in the arm. “Hey, let’s take bets. Who will wake up first, Keith or Shiro? Dibs on Shiro.”

Hunk tapped the table. “My bet’s on Keith.”

Pidge raised her hand. “Stumbling in at the same time.”

“You are on.” Lance clapped her on the back. “So what the hell was up with those green things yesterday.”

The conversation devolved slowly as Hunk finished his loco moco. A few hours later, once all the lights had brightened and both Coran and Allura had floated through, cheery and murderous respectively, Shiro and Keith staggered into the kitchen. “Huh, looks like Pidge won.” Hunk said. Pidge had fallen dead asleep an hour before, in the middle of a sentence no less.

Lance poked at her arm, with no response. “Shame she can’t be awake to see it.”

Keith looked around the kitchen in bleary confusion. He squinted and said, “Why does it smell like a Sonic drive-in in here?”

Lance raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his long cold coffee. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask Hunk?”

Hunk dropped his head into his arms. “Shut up.”

Ku’u Honua

Before the team had even landed on the planet of the week, it was pretty damn obvious there was going to be trouble.

As the lions touched down on one of the millions of islands that made up the land mass of the planet, a group of aliens scuttled out from the trees. They were diverse in appearance, like they were a mix of species rather than just one, and all with some kind of firearm strapped to their sides. The one at the front, a tall, broad alien with a line of triangles running down her leg, walked towards the lions shouting. “‘Ey! ‘Ey, wha’ chu doin hea? Chu wit dem fakas?”

Shiro’s voice crackled over the comms. “I’ll handle this.” He stepped out of his lion and the rest of the paladins following suit. He stepped forward, a hand raised in greeting. “Hello, we are the Paladins of Voltron. Have you seen any Galra on this island? Our intel indicates their force should be stationed here.”

The alien looked around at the paladins, brow furrowed. “Eh? Wha’ chu say?”

Shiro repeated. “We are the Paladins of Voltron, maybe you’ve heard of us?” The leader looked back at the others and shrugged. The other aliens looked around at each other awkwardly and began to shuffle their feet. The leader turned back to Shiro and shook her head.

Shiro frowned before he walked back towards the paladins, who’d gathered at the edge of the sand. Hunk spoke first. “Hey, what’s up?”

Shiro gestured back at the aliens. “I’m having some trouble understanding them,” Shiro said.

Lance snorted, “Yeah, we can tell.” He looked back at the aliens, who started to regroup on the edge of the treeline. “Maybe our translators are malfunctioning?”

“That could be it.” Shiro lifted his hand to his helmet and fiddled with some controls. “Princess, do you copy? We’re having problems communicating with the locals.”

Allura’s voice crackled through the comms, “I read you Shiro, what seems to be the problem?”

Hunk cleared his throat, “Um, guys I can try-”

Before Hunk could finish, Pidge cut in, “It’s not our translators, if it was we wouldn’t be able to understand Allura.” Pidge fiddled with her helmet’s onboard computer, scanning through lines of code, and frowned. “Nothing’s wrong with our systems either.”

Shiro nodded. “Princess, can you tell us anything about this planet?”

After a brief pause and the sound of typing, Allura said, “The Honuans, an amphibious sentient species from the planet Honua. Or at least, those were the natives. Many other species have settled here from other planets, for work, refuge, etc. They call themselves the Kanaka.” There was a pause over the line as Allura scrolled through the page. “However their languages have mixed. For some reason it never goes well through translators. We might be able to communicate with them another way, though.” She continued to type, muttering to herself under her breath

“Rodger that.” He switched off his helmet and turned back to the team. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

Hunk raised a hand, “Hey, guys?”

“Why do we even need to communicate with them?” Keith said, growing visibly impatient. “Why can’t we just look for the Galra ourselves?”

Allura’s voice broke in. “There are thousands of islands on this planet.” She said, the typing of a keyboard coming through the comms “To search all of them would take years.”

“Well what if we just fly above them,” Lance said, “Scan for anything Galra-”

Pidge broke in, shaking her head. “Are you seeing that jungle?” she said, “We won't be able to find jack if they don't want to be seen.” As the team argued, Hunk turned to look at the Kanaka. They were chattering amongst themselves in much the same way, glancing over at the paladins apprehensively. Hunk raised a hand in greeting and a few waved back, before turning back to the group. He turned back to hear Shiro speaking in that finalizing team plan voice and made a decision.

“OK,” Shiro said, “here’s the plan. Pidge, go high and use your scanners over the oceans. Lance and Keith, you check the big islands for anything suspicious, they might make a mistake. Hunk- Hunk? Hey Hunk, what-” Shiro turned to see Hunk walking over towards the Honuans, who were crouched on the ground by the treeline. They pushed themselves up, hands hovering by their weapons. He raised his hands and took a step closer.

Hunk cleared his throat, it had been a while for him. “Ey, chu ova dea!” His voice changed, harder on the consonants and more open on the vowels. The Kanaka perked up, listening, and a few hands fell away from their weapons.

The leader took a step forward. “Wha’ chu wan’? Chu guys one a dem fakas? Chu wit dem?” The Kanaka stopped her foot, rolling her shoulders with arms held away from her sides in a pretty universal ‘come at me, bro’ posture. “Chu wit dem, yea? Like scrap? Yea, les’ go, brah, les’ go.”

Shiro shifted. “Hunk?” Hunk looked back at the team, in various stages of curiosity and wariness, a few hands floating towards bayards. Hunk shot them a look before turning back to the Kanaka.

Hunk lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Nah, nah nah nah, nah.” Hunk laughed and shook his head again. “Nah, we got big kine beef wit dem fakas.”

The Kanaka lowered her shoulders, hands falling to her sides. “Fo’ real?” The Kanaka in the background started to relax, falling out of defensive postures and speaking to each other in quiet tones.

Hunk turned back towards their leader and smiled. “Yea, yea, brah, we coo’.”

“Ah.” She relaxed and stepped a bit closer. “Oh, yea, wha’ chu wan’?”

“Chu see da kine purple guys?” Hunk gestured, indicating the average height of a Galra. “Look like one popoki?”

The Kanaka nodded.“Yea, brah, choke.” She made an expansive gesture with her hands and continued. “Dey wen’ go ova dea, dat islan’.” She pointed towards an island maybe a mile off with a large crater at the peak. “Mean kine luna tho, he go ova mauka. Big, da faka, hoowie!”

Hunk nodded, “Tanks auntie, dea an’ dea?” he pointed, first at the island, then up into the mountains.

She nodded. She looked back at the group with a questioning look before she seemed to make a decision. “Yea brah, we try sho’?” The other Kanaka nodded

“Shoots auntie!” Hunk smiled. “Guys,” He turned back towards the group, all in various stages of surprise, confusion, and curiosity, “The main Galra force is on that island over there, but their leader went up into the mountains for some reason.” He gestured towards the Kanaka, who were pulling each other up and talking amongst themselves, checking their weapons and packs. “They can takes us to where they last saw him.” He paused and looked around nervously. “Is that cool?”

Shiro considered for a moment and nodded. “That sounds good, Hunk.” He turned to the rest of the team. “All right team, here’s the plan.”

The walk up the mountain, while it was slightly awkward and technically a march to a possibly unspeakable evil, was some of the most fun Hunk had had in awhile. The leader, named Ohelo, was friendly, despite her initial hostility. They talked story, seemingly incomprehensible to the rest of the team, who trailed behind in relative silence. Ohelo stopped at the edge of the forest and pointed up at the barren craggy mountain. “Da luna small kine up mauka,” she said.

Hunk nodded. “Raga’,” he said, “Sua you no can go?” They had discussed the Kanaka leaving the islands for the time being, just until the Galra had been cleared out.

Ohelo shook her head “No can, choke keiki and kupuna ova hea.” She shrugged. “Bummas.”

“Yea, yeah, auntie,” Hunk said, “I gotchu.”

Ohelo looked out over the clearing, all the way up to where Hunk guessed the Galra were hiding. “Ey.” She grasped Hunks shoulder and looked at him seriously. “Chu no go make, yea?”

Hunk chuckled. “Yea, auntie. No sweats.”

Ohelo shook his shoulder and smiled. “Den go, chu lolos.”

“Ey!” Hunk laughed. He turned back towards the team, checking their weapons, and cleared his throat. “Hey guys, the leader is a bit further up that way.”

“All right, you all know the plan, let’s go.”

Hunk broke off with Lance to scan the base ridge for suspicious activity. Before they left the forest, Hunk turned back towards the Kanaka. “Ey auntie!” He raised a hand to about chest and flashed a shaka, first three fingers bent down and thumb and pinky held straight. “Tanks!” The Kanaka waved back and he turned to walk up the mountain.

“Um, Hunk?” Lance was looking at him curiously. “What...”

Hunk shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

And that was, of course, when they stumbled upon a Galra security droid all hell broke loose. Now, Hunk thought, it would really have to wait for later.

A giant purple octopus and two very angry Honuan sharks later, the paladins returned to the castle battered, tired, and hungry. The castle dispensed the usual food goo and Hunk took it with a resigned reluctance. This wasn’t real food, and God if he missed being able to pick up a spam musubi from 7-11 or a surf pac from Zippy’s. He dropped down onto the floor next to the couch and pondered his plate. Pidge sat on the arm of the couch and grunted.

Hunk dropped his head to the table. “Yeah, same.” He felt Pidge fall back onto the couch.

“Hey buddy.” Hunk looked up to see Lance leaning over the table. Hunk hummed in response before dropping his head back on the table. “Aw come on, don’t be like that, scootch over.” Hunk sat up and complied, and Lance sat down next to him. “Thanks, but you’ve still got to explain the thing.”

Hunk looked at him quizzically. “What thing?”

“You know,” Lance gestured vaguely. “The thing. The thing with the talking with the Honuans.” He spread his hands. “Duh.”

Hunk groaned. “Kanaka.”

“What?”

“They prefer to be called the Kanaka. I asked.”

Lance pointed at him. “Yeah, that’s the thing. We couldn’t understand, like, ninety percent of what you guys were saying. Come on, Pidge, tell him.” He nudged Pidge in the leg and she hummed groggily.

“What?” She said.

“Hunk talking with the Honuans-”

“Kanaka,” Hunk corrected.

“Kanaka, sorry. Hunk talking with the Kanaka, you couldn’t understand that right?”

“Nope.” Pidge said. She yawned. “You’re going to explain that? Hey guys,” She sat up to yell into the kitchen. “Hunk’s going to explain how he talked to the Kanaka.” Keith and Shiro wandered in, Shiro looking worn out, as usual, Keith looking like a drowned cat and still grumpy from the healing pod. Shiro looked around the room before he sighed and dropped into the nearest chair. Keith stalked through with a bowl of something from the kitchen and climbed onto the back of the sofa.

Keith took a bite of what might have been cereal, or maybe ground meat. Hunk winced. He pointed the spoon at Hunk and scowled. “Talk.”

Hunk sighed and raised his hands in surrender. “They were speaking pidgin.” This was met with confused looks. “Spelled P I D G I N, not like the bird. It’s a language, kind of, or maybe a dialect, from Hawai’i. It’s just how we speak sometimes with friends or whatever.”

Pidge frowned. “Why did a bunch of aliens speak pidgin?”

“I don’t know dude, they just did.” Hunk shrugged. “And you guy’s weren’t making any headway so...” He trailed off. It felt like every eye was on him. He took a bite of food goo.

Lance clapped him on the shoulder, nearly making him choke. “Well thanks for saving our asses with your weird hidden accent, God our lives are weird.”

Shiro, silent up until this point, smacked his forehead. “Pidgin,” he said, “God, it was pidgin.” Keith looked at him curiously, along with more or less everyone else in the room. He noticed the looks and explained. “I was in an exchange student program to Honolulu in high school, I should have recognized-”

Hunk waved him off. “Nah, you couldn’t have recognized it. They were talking pretty thick. What school were you at?”

Shiro thought for a moment. “Punahou, I think. We visited ‘Iolani too.”

Hunk laughed. “Yeah, no. No one there speaks pidgin, definitely not with exchange students.” He shook his head, smiling. They tried, but those kids spoke like junior professors sometimes. “You want to hear pidgin, try Aiea. Or hell, try Kaua’i, some of them talk it like it’s the 1960s.”

Keith finished chewing a mouthful of his whatever it was and set down the bowl. He squinted at Hunk. “Is that why you called Coran uncle that time?”

Hunk groaned. “I thought we were going to forget about that?”

Lance shook his head with a shit eating grin. “We are never going to let that go, I thought you knew us.”

Hunk growled and threw his hands in the air. “It’s a thing, ok! You’re like ten years older than me, you’re uncle or auntie. It’s how we talk, for God’s sake. I don’t make fun of you guys for your weird accents.”

Pidge raised her arm from the couch. “Petition to mercilessly mock Keith every time he says ‘y’all’, say aye.”

Lance raised his hand. “Seconded.”

“Hey! I don’t say it that much.”

Hunk raised his hand as well. “Yeah, honestly, you do.”

“Come on.” Keith pointed his spoon at the couch. “Honestly, if y’all-” Keith stopped, blinking like a confused fish, and started over. “I mean if it ain’t for y’alls- I mean youse- Stop laughing!” He scrunched up his nose and took another bite of stuff, hopefully food.

“See, Keith? Do you see?” Lance said. “Shiro agrees with me, right Shiro?”

The room turned towards Shiro. He looked around before sighing, resigned to his fate, dropping his face into his hand, and slowly raising the other. Keith whined. “Shiro!”

Shiro looked for all the world like a man who’d lost all hope. “Do you even hear yourself any more? I- I don’t even know where you got that accent.”

“Yeah, this is an intervention, Keith.” Pidge leaned forward on her elbows. “Time to face the music.”

Keith sputtered. “I- Just-” He picked up his bowl and growled, “Fuck y’all.” and stormed out of the room.

Hunk couldn’t help but smile as he heard Keith fume in the kitchen. Finally, Lance pulled himself up. “I’ll go cool him off.” he said. Hunk gave him an incredulous look. “What? We’ve been bonding.” Lance headed off for the kitchen, and Hunk shrugged. He picked up his bowl of food goo and left the meeting area with a few goodnights to the sound of increasingly quiet Texan cussing. As he walked back towards his room, he chuckled to himself. “That,” he whispered, “went better than I thought.”

Manapua

Not all missions are created equal. Some are long, stressful affairs that take weeks of planning and days of fighting, some are hard and fast, a few hours of intense, white knuckled battle followed by a day of cleanup, some are tense and tedious, operations with little to no intel going in and so, so much nerve wracking waiting.

This mission, the one scheduled for tomorrow morning, was none of those. This mission was easy and simple, they knew the deal going in, there were no civilians to clear, and the objective was some uncomplicated sabotage. It would take half a day, at most, by Hunk’s estimates, and there would be plenty of time afterward for cleanup without technically needing to stop at the castle first. So, of course, they would need a lunch.

Hunk carefully lifted the last baking tray out of the oven and set it on the counter. The buns looked good, from a visual inspection, golden brown and lovely. He didn't have a stamp, even if it was traditional, but he did get something close to char siu for the filling. Hunk started to clean as the buns cooled.

Just as he put away the last of the ingredients, Hunk heard someone shuffle into the kitchen. Lance stood in the doorway, eyes squinting in the light. “Hey bud,” Lance said.

Hunk waved a hand over the manapua, checking for temperature, before he began to transfer them to a plastic container. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You, apparently. What’re you even doing?”

“Just finishing up a recipe.” Hunk moved a few more of the buns. “You should be in bed already.”

Lance yawned. “Pot and kettle, bro.”

“All right, I’m just finishing up.” Hunk transferred the last few things and put the container in the fridge. “Night Lance.”

“Yeah yeah, night.” Lance raised a hand in farewell and stumbled off to bed. Hunk placed the baking tray in the dishwasher, checked the oven one last time, and began to wipe down the counter. This, at least, would make tomorrow a bit more interesting.

The mission ended more or less as expected. No unexpected purple abominations were discovered, nor were any life altering secrets revealed. The lions settled on the cliff edge where the base used to be, and the paladins by mutual routine stepped out for a breather.

“Never again.” Pidge dropped back onto the ground with a groan. “I am never being bait for you again.”

Lance sat down next to her. “Speak for yourself. Better you than hothead over here.” He gestured towards Keith’s prone form.

Keith grunted in agreement. “Fair.”

Shiro dismounted from his lion and cleared his throat to get the team’s attention. “Status report, how is everyone?”

Lance raised his hand. “Present, no damage on Blue.”

Keith sat up. “Same here. No damage on Red either.”

“Present,” Pidge said, “Green’s sensors were damaged, but it’s nothing urgent.”

“Can you make it back to the castle?” Shiro asked.

“Yup.” Pidge nodded. “She’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Shiro said. “No damage on Black. Hunk?” Shiro turned towards the lions. “Hunk? Has anyone seen Hunk?” His shoulders tensed, his Galra hand held rigid away from his side. Keith rolled into a crouch, and his hand dropped to his bayard.

The door to the yellow lion opened. “Sorry!” Hunk said, “Present. Yellow’s fine. Hey, I brought lunch.” Hunk dismounted from the lion with an armful of paper bags. He tossed one to Shiro.

Shiro fumbled to catch the bag. “Thank you, Hunk. What is it?”

“No problem. Manapua, try it.” Hunk finished passing out the bags. “I thought you guys would be hungry, dig in.” He sat down next to Pidge and took a bite of his own. Keith took one of the buns out of the bag and took a mouthful. Lance and Pidge leaned over, looking at the half eaten manapua.

“Why is it red?” Lance said. Hunk looked up to see something like confusion on their faces.

Hunk shrugged. “It just is, ok.”

Pidge tilted her head to the side. She whispered to Lance, “Is meat supposed to be red?”

Lance whispered back “Dude, I don’t know.”

Around another mouthful of bread, Keith mumbled something that sounded like, “It’s food, just eat it.”

Hunk rolled his eyes and continued to eat. Shiro tore it open curiously and took a careful bite. “It is rather red. Is this normal?” Hunk rolled his eyes and nodded in lieu of a spoken answer.

Pidge pulled hers apart and looked at it suspiciously. After a minute of staring she looked up at Lance. “It’s like my food is bleeding.”

Hunk groaned and looked up at the sky. “Holy quiznak, guys,” he said, a little louder than usual, “You all are such haoles, eat the damn manapua!”

The translation software on their helmets clicked on and began to read aloud.

Haole: Usage, Hawaiian Creole English or Pidgin. Hawaiian translation, stranger or foreigner. Modern usage, an individual of exclusively or predominantly European descent. Example, a haole friend of mine went to Zippy’s and ordered teri beef with mashed potatoes.

An awkward silence fell as the group scanned the people to which Hunk was referring, more specifically Takashi Shirogane, Keith Kogane, Lance McClain, and lastly, Pidge Gunderson, the only caucasian for roughly 10,000 light years. Hunk felt his face go red. “Mainlanders,” he said, “I mean mainlanders. You’re all such mainlanders.” He took another bite of a manapua, pointedly not making eye contact. “Just eat it, you lolos.”

Keith leaned over at Shiro and whispered. “Did he just call us white?”

Lance snorted. “Dude, he called me white.” He gestured at himself with a free hand. “Me. I resent that statement.” Hunk groaned and hid his face in his hand.

Pidge raised her hand. “I resemble that statement,” she said.

“Sorry,” Hunk said, his voice muffled by his hands.

Lance laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, it’s fine buddy.” Hunk looked up to see Lance grinning widely. “But, oh my God, we are never letting this go.”

Pidge nodded. “That is very improbable.” She sniffed at the manapua again, less wary than before. After one last poke, she shrugged and took a bite. Her eyebrows raised as she chewed. “Hm, not bad.”

Keith gestured at her pointedly. “The haole ate it, Lance,” he said, ”Suck it up and eat the bread meat thing.” Hunk choked on a laugh and a mouthful of manapua. Keith, oblivious, continued. “It’s bread and it’s meat, what more do you want?”

Hunk swallowed and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Keith.” He turned towards Lance. “See? Keith will eat it, Pidge will eat it, just try, for God’s sake.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen Keith eat a space possum,” he said, “He’s not a high bar to jump, Hunk.” Even so, Lance took a bite. His expression rapidly changed from trepidation, to surprise, to enjoyment. “Ok, I’ll admit, not as bloody as it looks.” He took another bite.

Hunk snorted. “Just be glad I didn’t make you Spam musubi.”

He heard Lance choke. “Spam what? I am not eating Spam, buddy.”

Hunk smirked. “Yeah you will, I’ll get you eventually.” He looked at the slightly appalled faces of everyone but Keith. “I’ll get you all, believe it.”

Pidge blinked, a delighted smile spreading across her face. “Was that- Hunk was that Naruto.”

Hunk froze. “What? No, I-”

“Holy fucking quiznak it was!” Pidge stood up, pointing at Hunk triumphantly. “You’re wearing a headband, oh my god you’re-” She dissolved into giggles. “You’re a fucking weeaboo!”

“Hey, you’re the one who recognized it.” Hunk pointed back at her.“Judge not, lest you yourself be judged or whatever.” Lance raised a hand, held out towards Hunk for a high five. ”You too?” Lance shrugged unapologetically.

Shiro scratched his head. “Believe it,” he said. All eyes turned towards him. “Is that a thing from the English dub?”

Hunk shook his head in disbelief. “No.”

Meanwhile, Pidge punched the air. “YES!”

“What are y’all even talking about?” All eyes snapped to Keith.

“So you’ve never...” Lance said.

“Never,” said Pidge, “Not ever.”

Keith looked at them incredulously. “I grew up in a hut in the desert in Texas.” He spread his hands. “What do y’all think?”

Pidge stared off into space with a delighted smile on her face. “Boys, we have a job to do. Naruto marathon, at the castle, in Keith’s room, right now.”

“Not so fast,” Shiro said, “We still have a mission to finish here. After cleanup, you can, but until-” Lance and Pidge were in their lions before he even finished the sentence.

Let’s just say cleanup was much, much more efficient than usual.

Kuleana

There was a routine in the castle. What else would you expect? All but one of it’s residents had been military in one form or another, and this manifested in more than a few ways. Besides the obvious, everyday, and downright bizarre signs, many a time salt shakers had been literally thrown across the table, the most notable hangover was that of the chore schedule.

Today, it was Lance’s turn to do the dishes. Hunk knew this, and he knew Lance was present and accounted for, and he knew the state of the castle presented no current emergencies, but even still, there were the dishes, unwashed, in the sink.

“Hey, Lance?” Hunk called. “Lance!” He wasn’t in the common room, nor was he in the kitchen or his room or anywhere else Hunk looked. In the end, Hunk found him in the gym, predictably, in hindsight, as that was where Keith was.

Lance was leaning against a wall with his most flirty smile. “Hey, are you a photographer?” he said to Keith.

Keith barely paused in doing pushups. “What.”

“Because,” Lance continued unperturbed. “Baby, I could picture you and me together.”

Keith actually stopped his circuit to look up at Lance. “Why would you think I’m a photographer?”

“No Keith I mean-” Lance floundered, then started over. “Are you from Tennessee-”

“No, I’m from Texas.”

Hunk figured it would be a good time to step in. “Lance, could I talk to you?”

Lance glanced over at him. “Hmm? Oh yeah sure.” He trotted over to Hunk. “What is is? Quick, I think I’m making progress.”

Hunk exhaled slowly. This would call for drastic measures. He placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder and steered him out into the hallway. He turned Lance toward him and sighed. “Ok buddy,” he said, being sure to make eye contact, “Now we’ve all got a job to do, we’ve all got our kuleana here. Do you know what kuleana means?”

Lance shook his head. “No I don’t, what does it mean?” he said skeptically.

“It means responsibility. It means your responsibility to those around you, the earth, and everything on it. But it also means privilege. Your kuleana is an honor, and you do your kuleana, not just to stop bad things from happening or to get attention, you do it because it’s your kuleana and that’s what’s pono.” He pulled Lance next to him, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. “The paladins’ kuleana is to protect the galaxy. It’s a huge job, but we’re doing it, because the lions and the universe are our kuleana. It is an important responsibility.” Hunk turns his head to look at Lance. “And so is yours. Your kuleana is to do the damn dishes tonight.” He cuffed him on the back of the head. “Now stop making eyes at Keith and go was up, you lolo.”

Lance scurried towards the kitchen, looking sufficiently cowed. Shiro, previously standing in the doorway of the gym, walked towards Hunk. “How the hell...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Huh. How did you-”

Hunk shrugged. “Kuleana lecture,” he said simply, “Works every time.”

“Huh.” Shiro blinked, still visibly confused, before he seemed to give in. He disappeared into the gym, and through the door Hunk could hear muffled muttering.

“How did he-”

“Still no idea.”

Hunk smiled to himself and set about his own chores. The dishes were clean within the hour.

Fakas

Some missions were easy and some missions were hard, but some missions were downright brutal. Hunk dodged out of the way of yet another small fleet of Galra fighters, biting back the litany swears at the tip of his tongue. Few others offered the same courtesy. The comm link was flooded with profanity in more languages than Hunk could track. Lance swerved past, tailed by two long range guided missiles. “Chingate!” Lance yelled over the comms, desperately weaving in and out of nearby rock formations, “Tu madre es una puta fea- CHINGATE!” Blue made a sharp turn around a large spire and the missiles exploded against it. “HA,” Lance crowed, “Besa mi culo, puto.”

Shiro’s voice cut through the line. “All right cut the chatter. We need to form-” A heavy collision sounded over the comms. “SHIMATTA- Form Voltron NOW.” Another volley of shots whizzed past. “Formation!” Hunk veered away from the Galra fighters, just barely avoiding a collision with a ship. He ascended into open skies while Lance gave cover fire at the fleet at his back. Keith spun in the air, as he scanned for melee targets. Red turned suddenly into a steep dive, and Hunk heard Keith roar and he ripped through a Galra cruiser aimed at Lance. “Form up, form up!”

Lance shouted over the maelstrom of shots. “Where’s Pidge?” Several curses cut through the sound of gunfire. Hunk could hear her swearing over the comms, quick and multilingual, and nothing she spoke fluently.

Hunk scanned the horizon for the green lion. A battalion of Galra fighters spun like bugs near the rock formations, and in the center a green speck. “There!” Hunk yelled. “Shiro, on your four o clock.”

The black lion spun towards her. “Pidge, respond!” Shiro snapped. “Get out of there!”

The green lion swerved a hard left. “I’m trying- SCHEISSE.” A spearhead of Galra followed her screeching ascent. “Fatue! Tcho za galima, ba’Qa shit shit shit.”

“Lance, cover fire.” Shiro ordered. Lance said some choice words in Spanish and began to fire holes in the formation, covering her retreat. She swerved into her place, still muttering invectives. The Galra fleet began to reform below them. “Form Voltron!” The team did so under heavy fire, shield formed before the legs even clicked into place. Just as the giant robot man unsheathed it’s sword, a missile the size of a bus launched from the flagship, aimed not towards them, but towards the castle. The castle, where the entire refugee population of the planet was being housed.

Hunk, of course, reacted. “Ho, chu FAKA.” Hunk roared. Voltron’s sword sliced the missile in half as it hurtled towards the Galra ship. Hunk whooped as they sped downwards, winding up before the yellow foot of Voltron rammed into the bow of the Galra battleship in a punt kick that sent it spinning. Something important sounding crunched. “CHEE HOOO.” The ship careened into the ground and exploded as it’s magazine apparently caught a spark. The surrounding fleets dived towards the wreck in a desperate attempt to rescue survivors, leaving the way clear to destroy the objective. They did so thoroughly before retreating to the castle.

As they cleared the stratosphere, Pidge huffed. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “That worked.”

The comms fell silent as Hunk muttered sharply in pidgin. “Try come ova oua side, yea?” Hunk chuffed harshly. “Yea dey wan scrap, yea I give dem scrap...”

“Hunk, buddy?” Lance said, “You need to explain that better to us sometime, yeah?”

Hunk snapped out of his string of threats. “Wha’ chu say?” He blinked, then corrected himself. “Oh, oh right. Yeah, just an old habit, but chee dem fakas...” He broke off into another string of pidgin. “Hoowie, we’re retreating right? We should do that.”

“Yeah.” Voltron climbed steadily into the sky, then broke off into the five lions.

“Y’know y’all,” Keith said, “I’ve got to agree with Hunk.” The lions touched down in the hangers, where Coran waited. “They’re fuckers.”

ʻOhana

Across the galaxy, the Paladins were widely known. News often traveled fast between the planets, Galra censorship be damned. Each paladin was known, remembered details through every sighting and small interaction. They knew of the clever green paladin with a love for robots, the brash red and his Galra ancestry, the flirty blue with an eye for marksmanship, the stoic black with a robotic hand. But, when news travelled that Voltron was coming to help, the most widely anticipated, the most widely loved, was Hunk. If you were in trouble, they said, hope for the yellow paladin, kind and steadfast.

They said he was big and strong as a tank, wielding a massive cannon like it weighed nothing. They said he was a mechanic, able to understand engines and thrusters he had never seen before, and able to repair anything, from the largest turbine to the smallest wiring, with ease. They said he could cook, quite well in fact, and if you took him to your kitchens he would make something incredible from mere scraps. And, they said, he could communicate directly with the Honuans.

The paladins did make another trip to Honua. The islands torched by the Galra were devastated, and rehabilitation efforts were far underway. Hunk went to greet Ohelo and her hui and ask her how they could help. She had hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, and then promptly ordered the other paladins off to help on other islands. She took Hunk aside and they talked story in rapid fire pidgin. She asked if he had found a boy or a girl he liked and Hunk responded with a scandalized “Auntie!” They left soon enough. Ohelo and her hui met at the beach to bade them farewell. Ohelo herself sent Hunk off with a hug and an order to not break too many hearts. Hunk hugged her back and agreed that he would try.

Hunk slipped into using more and more pidgin, on and off Honua. Lance and Pidge caught themselves using picked up vocabulary, asking for ‘da kine’ at dinner and responding to queries for a marathon movie night with ‘shoots!’.

Hunk began to cook more local food. He fried spam and portuguese sausage for a breakfast fried rice and served up plates of loco moco at all hours. And, even though Pidge still salted her rice, an action that made Hunk physically wince, he couldn’t help but love how his friends would dig into whatever salty and greasy thing he put on the table.

The onboard refrigerator, only found on the lions after someone stuck their bayard in the wrong place, were soon stocked with pog and spam musubi. Lance and Pidge would complain, of course, speculating how much of pog really is juice and what distasteful creatures went into the spam, Hunk still had to refill the coolers every week. They’d sometimes just stop, after a mission or just before one, on some grassy hill and eat in silence, each with a musubi in one hand and a carton of pog in the other.

When you got down to it, it tasted like family. Salty, carb laden family.

#voltron #Hawaiian Hunk #hunk garrett #fanfic #mine

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pocthiccnessimagines · 6 years

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Listening Party

Harry Styles // POC reader ~ Ed Sheeran // POC reader

Written by A on 5/23/18

Warnings: None

Plot: Harry setting up Ed and Y/N at Ed’s listening party/

*NOT my gif, but aren’t they so adorable.

Y/N and Harry had been friends for ages. But he didn’t know that she had a huge crush on his best mate until a few weeks ago Y'all were playing drunk truth or dare and she just exposed herself and now Harry knew that she had a crush the size of the Pacific ocean on none other than Ed motherfuckin’ Sheeran. So Harry hatched this whole plan that Y/N knew nothing about. Ed was having an album release party and he would bring Y/N along and somehow get them alone together. Y/N forgot that she even told Harry about her crush because he didn’t bring it up ever since it had been revealed.

Maybe he forgot? Maybe he was too drunk? Well, that was no skin off Y/N’s teeth if he had forgotten that means that he couldn’t tease her about. Y/N was chilling at her apartment when she got a text that Harry was coming over to tell her some good news. Texted him back:

Door’s unlocked.

She went back to her computer mixing some music that she had to do for an indie gaming company. She loved getting gigs like this because they gave her artistic freedom and she got play their games for free. The doors open not to long after she was finished mixing everything. “Hey Harry I’m in my room,” she calls. Harry walks into her room carrying tacos, sets them down on her end table and kisses her on the cheek then sits down on the seat beside her.

“Hey, Harry before you give me your good news can you listen to something for me real quick it’s for that game I was telling you about and I think I’m finally done with it but I’m not sure and you are really good at pointing me in the right direction. And just remember that this whole song is going to be laced within the game so some bites of it for the opening theme of the game then throughout and ending credit. They will cut and spice what they want for the game.” Y/N looks up at Harry with Y/E/C big doe eyes, he smirks and just nods. “Thanks so much, Harry”, she kisses his cheek.

youtube

After listening Harry had so many questions about the upcoming game, under contract she wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but it was just Harry. “Well it’s an indie game that just recently to use the Pikachu character as a travel companion, but within the game someone is trying to steal your Pikachu because they are so rare and they believe that you have last living one so the whole jist is that your protect Pikachu and get across the board and complete challenges along the way. I’m not sure if I’m doing it the justice it deserves with me explaining it but it looks really cool. Anywho what’s the news?”

“Well, one of my good mates is having a listening party and I think you’d like his music because you’re into singer-songwriter sounds. You wanna go? It’s tomorrow night if ya free.” Harry holds in his snicker as tomorrows event play in his head. “Yeah, sure sounds like my scene but aren’t listening parties usually intimate with close friends and other musicians. I don’t even know this per...” Yeah, well you’re my plus one,” Harry cuts her off before she can dig herself into a whole of self-doubt of being an important enough person to attend an event like this. She always does that, she makes amazing music yet still doubts herself as an artist. She just nods her head in defeat knowing that Harry wouldn’t take no for answer.

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

Y/N looks herself over in the mirror again. She put on one of her Fashionnova Racer Neon Orange dresses and strappy black heels.

She sported a more natural look for makeup, just some light foundation mascara, and some gloss. She then waited for Harry to come pick her up, not even 5 minutes later Harry knocked on the door. His jaw dropped, Y/N was looking amazing and well if she hadn’t played right into his plan to get her with Ed because she was wearing one of his fave colors. Harry shook himself out his stooper smiled at Y/N and opened his arm for Y/N to hold like she was royalty being walked into a ball. She giggled but humored him and took his arm and they walked to the car.

What were the chances? When Harry turned to car back on one of Ed’s song from his previous record was playing on the radio, Y/N fidgeted for a moment then relaxed. The drive took only about 20 minutes, so they talked about up and coming projects for the both of them and what the did earlier in the day. Harry parked his car in the driveway, there weren’t many cars in the vicinity. Y/N looked around and frowned at Harry, “Where is everyone? Are we early?” she questioned. “He wanted to keep it small so most of the people are here and there are a few more coming,” he retorted.

They got out and walked into the house. They walked into the living room and we met with boisterous voices and people milling around, drinking and munching on snacks. Harry told Y/N to wait in the living room while he went to go look for his friend to introduce Y'all. You stood off to the side near the CDs cabinet, you were too entranced with the amount and genres of the music that you didn’t even her Harry come back with Ed. Harry cleared his throat and Y/N whipped around and met 2 familiar faces, Harry and Ed. Y/N’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recouped and plastered a smile on her teeth.

“Hi, Ed thanks for letting me come to your listening party,” Y/N said through partially gritted teeth. Her eyes roamed over to Harry and gave him a questioning look and a smug smirk lay across his face then she knew that he didn’t forget about the drunken confession of her feelings about Ed hadn’t gone forgotten. Ed speaks up, “Hey Y/N, long time no see and no problem you’re welcome ‘round anytime.” He reaches out for a hug and kisses her on the cheek. He holds her longer than is considered to be a friend hug but she doesn’t mind.

By the time they release each other Harry is nowhere too be found, so they start talking. They find out that they have more in common than they think. Ed keeps looking at Y/N in an odd way their whole entire conversation, so Y/N wants to ask him about it ans she does. “Why do you keep looking at me like that? And don’t say like what youn know what way you are looking at me.” Ed bite his lip in thought trying to carefully choose his words before responding. “Well...,” he starts. “you just look amazing and you’re wearing my fave color, I apologize for my brashness but you look like a whole meal and your coconut and shea butter are intoxicating.”

He leans away from Y/N waiting for her to respond with his cheeks tinted pink. He hopes he hasn’t been too forward with her. But whenever she’s around he can’t think straight. Ever since he met her he thought Y/N was fascinating, but they never had a moment together it was always fast meetings and an occasional hi or bye. After Harry told him that she was here and has the same feelings for him, he coudln’t wait to talk to her.

“Harry told you didn’t he? That bugger, always meddling,” she says with a laugh. She hasn’t looked up at him yet she is staring at her hands. She takes a steady breath and looks up at him. All he does is nod and smiles. He moves to sit closer to her and takes her hand in his. “And I like you back, you goddess of a woman,” he says before intertwining their fingers together.

Let me know what you think part 2 coming soon :)

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davidcarner · 6 years

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Wanting It All Ch 6, The Aquarium

A/N: Today's chapter was 95% plotted and 50% written by Angelgurl0. I don't know what I'd do without her. This chapter is fluff, but fun. For the record, halfachance has read, and approved this chapter. I have never been to the Long Beach Aquarium, but Angelgurl0 and another fanfic writer has. It's time for some family bonding. Thanks to Michaelfmx for his amazing betaing. Welcome to Wanting It All Ch 6, The Aquarium

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, I have carried Grace on my shoulders at a Zoo...a long time ago.

The next morning found the three of them in the car and arriving at the Long Beach Aquarium parking lot, with Chuck driving. It had been a different ride than Sarah was used to with Chuck behind the wheel. Usually she drove while he chose songs from his playlist, giving out bits of trivia, and she just enjoyed herself. Last night had been wonderful. The three had enjoyed the pool, Sarah had dunked him once when he wasn't paying attention, and they had just been together, happy. Jordan had fallen asleep quickly from swimming and Chuck and Sarah had planned on talking, until her yawns threatened to dislocate her jaw. She went to her room she was staying in for the weekend to get some sleep and she assumed he went to his, but she wondered. She had a feeling he had sat up for a lot of the night, thinking. That's what he did, think. This morning he had looked no worse for wear and they piled into the car and headed to the aquarium. She told him the story about what had happened to her after she left him and before she joined the CIA. He had been quiet for a few moments, processing.

After parking the car, Chuck sat there for a second, shaking his head. "So, you had to work for the CIA for seven years." Sarah nodded, watching Chuck's face. There was real sorrow and understanding there, not pity. It may be eight years later, but some things about him hadn't changed. "And if you didn't work for them, you'd go to jail?" She nodded again. "Good grief, Sarah, I get it. You couldn't leave, so why would you call?"

"But I should have," she insisted. Chuck turned to her, and took her hand.

"No, we're not gonna dwell, someone incredibly smart once told me we've wasted eight years. She's right, this is about moving forward."

She smiled at him. "Using my own words to get ahead, very smart, Bartowski." He waggled his eyebrows and got out of the car. They got Jordan out, headed to the entrance, and made their way inside.

"Now, here's a very important piece of information." Chuck had been to the Long Beach Aquarium before, so he quickly became the defacto tour guide. Jordan was quite excited. They had rented a stroller for him, because Chuck was quite sure today was going to tire the little guy out. "These first few exhibits have a blue diver, named Bob. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to try and find him in those exhibits."

Jordan, excited to the point he was about to bounce, looked over at his mom. "MOM! Can we do it? Please?"

Sarah gave Chuck a smile. Chuck thought he couldn't handle this, the three of them. Was he ever wrong. "We should do it together."

Jordan nodded, and looked at Chuck. "Yeah, like a family!" Chuck's eyes got wide but he saw Sarah's smile, and knew it wasn't bothering her. He helped Jordan into the seat, buckled him in, and offered to push. Sarah stepped away and made the gesture of "be my guest."

Chuck took off, pushing Jordan in front of him, and Sarah walking beside him. "Okay, so we're headed to the Southern California / Baja Gallery where the sea jellies are first."

"Ooh." Jordan was mesmerized with them and their colors. Chuck thought Jordan was watching the jellies when the little guy spoke up. "I can't find Bob."

"I think I see him." Sarah squatted down to his level and pointed out the blue diver.

"There he is!" Jordan was excited and nearly bounced out of his stroller. Chuck grinned, so far so good.

Chuck squatted down beside Jordan. "Where is he, Buddy? I don't see him." Jordan took Chuck's face in his hands and pointed it toward the diver. Sarah had to put her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter. He still had his hands on Chuck's head when Chuck spoke. "Yep, there he is!" Sarah had to laugh at the sight. "So Sarah's in the lead finding them."

Jordan, with his hands still on Chuck's face, turned Chuck's face toward his. "No, Chuck, we're doing it together."

Chuck nodded. "Got it." Sarah gave him a grateful smile. They wandered along, and found seals and sea lions, Jordan finding Bob with the seals, and Chuck pointing out the one with the sea lions. They made their way outside, and Sarah grinned.

"If you don't mind oh great tour guide, might I take this part?" Sarah asked.

Chuck bowed deeply at the waist. "M'lady, it would be my pleasure." Jordan laughed at the two. Chuck straightened back up, and then squatted down to Jordan. He put his hand by his mouth as he faux whispered to the little boy. "She's got a lot to live up to, my tour has been top notch so far." He winked at her.

They were about to head outside and Sarah was trying hard to contain her excitement. She had a good idea what was about to happen. Last night, she had done some research on the aquarium and knew this was where Jordan could pet a bamboo shark, corals, and even the jelly fish he thought were so cool from the earlier exhibit. As they walked, she decided she needed to spice up her tour guide routine. She mimicked Chuck and pointed out a small outdoor gift shop…which quickly backfired because Jordan wanted to buy everything inside. She saw Chuck reach for his wallet, and flashed him a look. He pulled his hands back, palms up, grinning. Sarah laughed, and told Jordan if they had time they'd come back later. She caught Chuck's eye and shook her head no, earning a laugh from Chuck. Chuck bent down to unhook Jordan's straps when Jordan realized what they were about to do.

"Can I really touch them?"

Sarah squatted down in front of him, soaking up the look of wonder on his face. "Mmmhmm. Now the Bamboo Shark," she began.

"WILL HE EAT ME?!"

Sarah put her hands on his shoulders to calm him. "Do you think I'd let you touch him if he would?" Jordan shook his head.

Chuck squatted down beside him as well. "Hey, I've know your mom for a long time, and there is no way she'd let someone she cared about get hurt."

Sarah flinched at those stinging words. She didn't think Chuck was trying to be hurtful with them, but she had let him get hurt, and there was no one she had cared about more before Jordan had come along. Chuck saw her flinch, replayed the words in his head and realized what he had said. Before he could apologize to her, Jordan spoke up.

"I've known her for four years," the little boy said, tilting his head to look at Chuck. Chuck blinked, thought about it, and realized he was right.

"Welp, you got me there, kiddo." Jordan giggled, and walked over to the tank with the both of them. Chuck picked him up to get a better angle and he gently touched the shark. He touched the coral as well, and then very hesitantly, touched the jelly. Jordan laughed and yanked his hand away. Sarah beamed as she watched the two together and felt something stir in her that she thought was long dead.

After they had touched all the cool stuff outside, the trio headed upstairs to the tropical pacific gallery, where there were all kinds of frogs. They were colorful and exotic, but an issue quickly arose when Jordan couldn't see some of them, because they were too high up.

Chuck squatted back down in front of Jordan, and pointed to his back. Jordan's eyes grew wide. Chuck nodded and Jordan wrapped his arms around Chuck's neck and threw his legs around his chest. "Higher," Chuck said softly. Jordan put his hand on top of Chuck's head and began to climb. Sarah covered her mouth at the sight in front of her, watching the two men she loved, especially the tall one that had one eye closed in a wince. Jordan threw one leg over Chuck's shoulder, grabbed hold of the far ear and pulled. Sarah looked on in a mix of horror and laughter as Jordan pulled himself up into a sitting position on Chuck's shoulders. Chuck winked at Sarah and slowly rose, with Jordan sitting like he was king of the world.

"Mom! I'm taller than you!"

Sarah giggled and looked at the two of them. She found that feelings were erupting in her that she was having trouble controlling. Chuck gave her a questioning look, making sure she was okay. She nodded, tears pooled in her eyes. Jordan studied the frogs, while Chuck held one of his legs with one hand, and Sarah's hand with the other. Sarah noticed a few people glance and smile in their direction. She wondered how Chuck would react to those looks, she didn't mind, in fact, she enjoyed them. They continue through the exhibit and came upon a huge tank with sea turtles. Jordan's eyes widen.

"Aren't they awesome, Jordan?" Chuck felt the boy nod to his question and grinned. Jordan was in absolute awe. In fact, as they explored the entire gallery, Jordan barely spoke a word. His mouth just remained open, taking in all of the sights. Chuck grinned and appreciated the boy's wonder. "It's different then what we're used to seeing on land isn't it?"

"It is." Jordan was quiet for a moment and when he spoke, there was something to his tone that was different, kinder, warmer. Not that Jordan had ever been anything but friendly to Chuck, but this time there was just….more. "Thank you for bringing us here, Chuck."

"Hey, it is my pleasure, Buddy."

The tour continued as Jordan pointed out things like the sea dragon that looked like a twig, and then, he saw it, his eyes grew wide as he could barely contain the excitement. "MOM! NEMO!" Sarah laughed at his excitement and looked at him. She glanced up at Chuck. The smile on his face was like stumbling upon a hidden treasure. After all they had been through, after all that had gone wrong, it was like things were finally clicking. They passed a nice little cafe with an outside patio as they made their way to the North Pacific Gallery and that was where Sarah made a decision.

"Jordan, why don't you give Chuck a bit of a break, his back has to be tired." Chuck hadn't said anything or even made any face to indicate he was hurting, but the thankful look he gave her told her she was right.

"How do I get down?"

Chuck grinned at Sarah as he tried to look up at Jordan. "Oh, Buddy, this is the best part."

"Chuuuuuck," Sarah was very leery about what she thought was about to happen.

"Hey, we're family, right?" He winked his eye when he said that. And with that, Sarah knew he hadn't meant anything by his earlier comment.

She grinned, and tears pooled again in her eyes. If he was game, she was game. "Right. What do I do?"

"That's the spirit, Sarah! Jordan are you ready?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, Sarah, behind me. That's it, now, Jordan, Sarah is going to reach up, that's it, just like that and you are going to let go of my ears, andmyhairow!" Jordan was giggling, and Sarah was trying not to. "Just let go buddy, your mom's got you." He did, and he tumbled right into Sarah's arms. He smiled up at her.

"That was fun!" Sarah put him down on the ground and Jordan ran over and hugged Chuck's legs. Chuck had a surprised look on his face that turned into a grin. He reached down and patted him on the back, rubbing his shoulder tenderly. After a moment, Jordan let go and took Sarah's hand as Chuck went back to stroller duty. He didn't say anything, but Sarah was pretty sure he was wondering if they'd made a mistake renting it. Sarah glanced over, saw the look on his face and just smirked. When Jordan tired out in a bit, he'd be glad they rented it. "Look at that bird's face!" They had come upon the Diving Birds and Jordan couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was in awe of the orange beak on the Horned Puffin, and just stared at it. Sarah started to respond but couldn't help but laugh as Chuck walked right up to the glass to look at it.

"Sarah, it's got an orange beak!"

She shook her head. She went from having two children to one and then back to two. "It does, Chuck, now back away from the glass."

He grinned at her and the tour continued. Sarah saw more and more couples give them looks and couldn't help but wonder what was going through Chuck's mind. If she were honest, she was getting what she'd always wanted, and what she'd wanted with Chuck before she met Daniel. She wanted a family, she wanted her son to have a dad that cared. That wasn't Daniel, and she now knew it. She'd promised herself she wouldn't do to Chuck what she did to Daniel, to force him into something, but a part of her hoped, dreamed, that they would be a family. She knew how Chuck could freak out, and a part of her worried he would. A part of her worried this was too much, way too fast, and there were still scars from what happened between them in the past, but if she was honest, she was hoping with every fiber of her being that Chuck Bartowski was loving this as much as she was. It was everything she could hope for, and yet she didn't dare dream it.

"Can I be honest with you?" The question he asked softly yanked her out of her thoughts.

"I wish you would…always."

"I'm a little mad at your dad right now. We could have been doing this….I know you said we're moving forward but this….this is…"

"I get what you're saying, but you're right, this is." She grinned at him.

"Yeah?" A slow smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," she replied, the grin growing into a smile. She decided to be as honest as she could. They both deserved that. "Chuck, we get to make this whatever we want. And right now I have the two guys in my life I want, so I hope you're good with that."

"Just to be clear, I am one of those guys, right?" He waggled his eyebrows and she snorted.

"Yes, Nerd Boy, you're one of them, and your little buddy is the other."

Chuck looked over at Jordan. "He is, isn't he?" The grin on his face made her heart swell. They continued to walk in silence until they reached the Giant Octopus. They all stood there together watching the octopus as she moved about, changing colors to match whatever she touched. Chuck didn't even think as he just slipped his arm around Sarah's shoulder and she just as naturally leaned into him, Jordan's hand securely in hers. They watched the marvelous creature and stood there as the volunteer talked. When the volunteer finished telling them all about the octopus, they continued on to the Coral Touch exhibit. Sarah lifted Jordan onto her hip so he could reach into the pool to feel all the different things.

"I want to feel all of them, Mom." Sarah grinned at her son and his bravery. "Now you."

"Yeah, now you, Sarah," Chuck teased.

She gave Chuck a look, but it wasn't unkind, more playful than anything. "Hush, you," she replied, but the grin made it clear she enjoying the back and forth. She took a deep breath, reached in, and quickly pulled her hand back.

"Mom! Why didn't you touch more?"

"Yeah, why Mom?" Chuck added, grinning.

She spun on Chuck and spoke with a low, husky voice. "You don't get to call me that unless I have one of yours, and even then, I find it a little weird." Chuck began to process what she'd said, sputtered, and had no clue what to say, as Sarah and Jordan exited the coral touch lab. Chuck realized quickly where they were going and hurried after them, excited. What they didn't know was that Chuck had a possible surprise lined up, Otters. As they walk up to the otter exhibit, Jordan's eyes lit up. He edged right next to the glass and one of the sea otters swam right over and waved at Jordan.

"MOM AN OTTER WAVED AT ME!" He was beside himself.

"Sweetie!" She was waving back with her son at the otter and neither noticed the grin on Chuck's face.

Chuck got right behind Jordan and bent down. He spoke softly. "What if we fed the otters?" Jordan spun to look at Chuck, his eyes huge. Sarah looked down at him, in disbelief. Chuck realized he hadn't cleared it with Sarah, stood, and began to open his mouth.

"I don't know how you pulled this off, and I don't care, thank you," she said. Jordan gave him a thumbs up and a wink, making Chuck laugh.

"Come on, Sarah, it's no big deal. Besides, doesn't everyone want to feed them, because, well, OTTERS!" Sarah threw back her head and laughed. Some things never changed with this guy.

"So, is this the otter feeding family?" A worker they hadn't noticed before asked. She grinned at Chuck and Sarah wondered if the worker knew him.

"Did we time it right?" Chuck may have been even more excited than Jordan, which Sarah wasn't sure was completely possible.

"Absolutely, Chuck." Sarah was certain she knew him. "Come on, we'll go meet Ollie and Brooke."

Jordan's eyes about popped out of his head. "We're gonna really meet them and feed them?" He threw himself at Chuck's legs. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou." Sarah just laughed as Chuck shrugged. She reached over and put her hand around his neck, her thumb rubbing him under his ear. She knew he loved that, and she grinned.

"You did good, Bartowski."

"Yeah?" he asked softly. She nodded. They followed the employee until they reached the feeding area.

"Mom! Brooke, that's the one that waved at me earlier!" Sarah just shook her head. The volunteer led Jordan over. They appeared and acted gentle, but Chuck and Sarah were nearby, just in case.

"Jordan, say paw before you feed Brooke next time." Jordan looked at Chuck like he just gave him the secrets of the universe.

Jordan got close to the opening with his hand, and with excitement almost spilling out of him said, "Paw". The otter reached out and touched Jordan's hand. Sarah had instant tears in her eyes. Her son was beside himself, and it was because of one amazing man. She was pretty sure Chuck's arrangement of this had nothing to do with his money. There was one reason and one reason only, there was no one on Earth like Chuck Bartowski, and that was why she couldn't forget him for all those years. She and Chuck both fed the otters, and after having waved good-bye and thanked Debbie for the wonderful time, they headed upstairs to the outdoor area. They made it to the penguin enclosure and watched them for a while, but Sarah knew that Jordan was fading, fast. The otters had been the high point, and it had been a long day, but there was one more thing to see. The trio headed over to the Ray Habitat touch pool, and, Sarah included, pet the bat rays and the guitarfish.

Sarah looked at her little guy about passed out in the stroller and her big guy, exhausted himself, but suddenly he perked up. She followed his line of sight, and rolled her eyes. The gift shop. She followed him inside, but quickly lost him. How did someone so tall and lanky disappear like that? She found him again and he had six shirts in his hands. Three of one kind, all in their sizes, three of the other, again, all in their sizes.

"Chuck," she began.

"Sarah, come on, we need these!" The first shirt said The Otter Strikes Back, made in the cartoonish style of The Empire Strikes back. She rolled her eyes and glanced at the second set of shirts. On them was a shark, like out of Jaws, but the lettering around it said, Come to the Shark Side. She gave him a pleading look, he pouted, and she relented. She knew she was in trouble if he ever figured out how far he could go with that pout. He bought the shirts, returned the strolled and the three, with Chuck holding Jordan against his chest, Jordan's head on Chuck's shoulder and Chuck holding Sarah's hand with his free one, exited the Aquarium, and loaded the car. Sarah realized that she was on her way to getting what she wanted. Peaking over at Chuck's face, she was pretty sure he was as well. As they pulled out onto the highway, Sarah snuck a peak in the back at her sleeping son. She turned and looked at Chuck, focusing on the road as he drove, and the image of the family she had always hope for snuck into her mind. He noticed her looking at him and smiled back warmly, reaching over and taking her hand. "Did I do okay?"

"Bartowski, that was just about perfect." She was quiet for a second. "You know what, I'm wrong, it was perfect." He nodded. "What about you?" He glanced her way. "Was it…too much?"

He smiled, his nose crinkling. "No, I had a blast. I mean, I think some people thought we were a family."

"I told you I was with the two guys in my life I want to be with, if that's not family, I don't know what is." He squeezed her hand and as they rode, she thought about the life she left behind. The life she thought she could never have. The life she thought impossible given all their mistakes, but now it was not only obtainable, but it was going to happen, it was just a matter of when.

A/N: Now wasn't that fun? Come on back next chapter for the fallout of this one, and oh, there is fallout. SO much fallout. Ellie and Sarah talk, Daniel and Chuck talk, and three characters make an appearance. Ch 7, Conversations...Hoped you liked it, reviews are always welcomed…til next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #fanfic #fanfiction #Wanting It All

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itskimtaehyung · 7 years

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Jinsik (M)

“Do you know what kind of cuisine we make here at Eat Jin?” Jin slowly paces back in forth in front of you, his arms crossed, and a serious expression on his face.“Our cuisine is heavily influenced by French and Italian, but we use many flavors that are prevalent in Hansik.”

Your eyes sweep the expanse of his kitchen. “It's like your own twist on Hansik. Jin’s Hansik, or Jinsik, if you will.”

“Jinsik? I like it. You know I’m a sucker for puns.” He lets out a hearty chuckle.

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader, but all members are featured

Genre: Chef!AU, Fluff, Smut, Angst

Summary: It has been three years since you were last in Seoul, and it has been just as long since you saw Seokjin. In that time, since graduating culinary school, you toured Europe, learning as much about the culture and cuisine as you could. Jin went on to open the most successful restaurant in Korea. When you return home, you just know that this restaurant is where you’re supposed to be.

Word count: 12.7k

Content/warnings: Lots of swearing. Smut! 6/7 of Bangtan are complete assholes, especially Namjoon and Taehyung.

A/N: This turned out to be a lot angrier than I intended I think I used it to let out a lot of pent up anger I had lol maybe I have issues. @jeonjiah and @showyourdesire asked to be notified when this fic comes out ☺️

You stand in front the the building’s brick facade, resume in hand, steeling yourself for what you’re about to do. It’s cold out. Though it’s late February and the promises of spring are just a few weeks away, it still feels like the dead of winter. You can see your breath as you try to steady it. The snow had stopped falling last week, but the cold that it brought in still lingers. It’s dark out. Except for the dim yellow glow of the street lamp above you, and the light streaming from inside of the window that you’re staring into. It has been a while since you’ve experienced this kind of frigidity, and even longer since you were last in Seoul.

You spent the last three years travelling all around Europe, learning the cuisine of the cultures there, adding to your culinary arsenal. However, eventually homesickness got the better of you, and you found yourself back home in Seoul, where your love of food all began.

You stand there shivering beneath the wooden sign that perches above the door. Eat Jin, it reads. The finest restaurant in the country, owned by the best chef on this side of the Pacific. The crowd is pretty light for a Friday night, and you're thankful. You gotta do this Y/N, you say to yourself. Now go in there before you change your mind. You swing the door open and step inside, suddenly enveloped by warmth.

As you slowly step forward, you take in the sights around you. In front of you is a lectern, behind which the maitre’d stands. Behind her is a large dining room, dozens of tables draped with white table cloths, softly lit both by the small tea lights at their centers, and the crystal chandeliers that hang from the ceiling. The walls are adorned with fine art in gold frames and luxurious blood red curtains, and each table has a vase filled with the most delicate white lilies.

“How many?” The maitre’d asks. She’s a petite woman with long, black hair, tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s wearing a white button up shirt, black skirt, and a black bowtie. Sooyeon, her nametag reads.

“Actually, I’d like to speak to the head chef please,” you reply assertively, trying to let her know that you aren’t going to leave until you get what you want.

“I’m sorry I–uh–the head chef?” She stutters back. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, I would just like to speak to him.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can let you do that.”

You square your shoulders and look Sooyeon in the eyes. “Listen, I am not leaving here until I see the chef, and you don’t want me to make a scene do you?” You stare her down, hoping she’ll comply.

“N–no. Um.” She glances behind her at the customers. “Yes. This way please.” She steps out from behind the lectern and makes her way toward the back of the dining room, where the door to the kitchen is located.

The some of the customers watch you as you walk past them. You feel out of place in your puffy fur lined parka and winter boots while the other patrons don elegant gowns and suits. A waiter passes you carrying a tray of food and you catch a whiff of fresh seafood as he walks by. You study the dishes that sit in front of the customers. They’re colorful and artfully prepared, each item’s position carefully contemplated. You’re so absorbed in analyzing the establishment that you almost bump into Sooyeon when she pauses in front of the double doors.

She turns to face you. “Just so you know, not many people are allowed back here.” You frown. “But you seem like the type that would cause a scene like you said, and we have a reputation here at Eat Jin, so I can't let that happen.” You nod as she pushes the doors open.

The chatter of the dining room is suddenly replaced by the cacophony of clanging pots and pans. You look around and take in all that’s going on around you. You find that there are a total of seven chefs running around trying to get orders out in a timely manner. You take mental notes of each of them. One of them, tall, muscular, and lean, is standing over one of the burners, stirring the contents of a saucepan, tasting it every time he adds a new ingredient. A black haired one is manning the grill, watching it to make sure he gets the perfect char on his salmon. Another of them, extremely tall with striking purple hair, is busy cubing vegetables for stew. The one with shaggy brown hair takes those vegetables and places them in a large stock pot. The pink haired chef, much shorter than the rest, stands in the back, assembling a pastry. A blonde one carries a tray of seasoned quail and sticks it in the oven.

All of them men. All of them running around doing their jobs. None of them noticing you or Sooyeon walking past them toward the back of the kitchen, where their boss is situated. After you find him in the corner furiously whipping a pale yellow sauce in a glass bowl, your eyes don't leave him as you step forward. The seventh chef, Kim Seokjin, the head chef, leader of this kitchen.

He's so absorbed in his work, trying to get the right consistency, that he doesn't notice either of you approaching him.

Sooyeon clears her throat, “Chef Jin,” she starts. “We have someone here who wants to see you.”

“Hmm? Who is it? You know I don't like people in my kitchen unannounced.” He turns around to grab a tube of bright red paste before squeezing some into the bowl, not looking in your direction.

“I’m not sure, sir. She just barged in and demanded to speak to you.”

The dark haired one brings over his salmon and sets the plate in front of his boss. “Perfectly grilled as ever, Yoongi,” he says to him, and pours the now orange sauce on top. “Taehyung! Where's the asparagus?” he yells across the kitchen.

“It’s still blanching!” The shaggy haired chef yells back. “Just a few more seconds!”

“Bring it here when it's done!” You hear Taehyung reply with a “Yes, sir!” and Seokjin returns his attention to the dish in front of him. “You mean to tell me,” he says to Sooyeon, still not looking at either of you. “That you brought someone into my kitchen,” he takes a clean cloth to wipe up the excess sauce that dropped on the edge of the plate. “Without even getting their name first?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Sooyeon clasps her hands in front of her and looks at her shoes. You were so focused on getting yourself back here that you hadn't even thought about the consequences it would entail for her.

“It’s my fault, sir,” you chime in, seeing how flustered the girl is becoming. “I barged in here and threatened to cause a scene if I didn't see you.”

“And why is that?” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and nearly drops the plate when he sees you. “Y/N?” He stares at you, mouth agape.

“Hello, Jin.” You smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Oh, so you two know each other. You know I’m just gonna– I’m gonna go back to my job.” Sooyeon turns around and makes her way back to the dining room.

“Thank you, Sooyeon,” the chef calls after her, his eyes still glued to yours. She pauses at hearing her name, but then pushes through the double doors, exiting the kitchen. Jin finally looks away to set the plate down as Taehyung brings over a steaming pot of asparagus and places a few of the bright green spears on the plate. “Thank you, Taehyung. Please give this to one of the waiters.” Taehyung nods and takes the plate from Jin. “Sorry about that,” he returns his attention to you. “This isn't even our busiest night, yet it's still pretty hectic.” Jin steps closer to give you a hug, and the smell of various herbs and spices that cling to him encompasses you. “What brings you here to Eat Jin?” he asks once he pulls away.

“I need a job,” you reply flatly.

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. “And you decided to come here?”

“This is the finest restaurant in the country. I want to work for the best. I know I’m good enough.” You try to keep your voice from quivering as you say this and hand him the resume you had been clinging to.

“Hm..” He furrows his brows as he studies it. “So you spent the last three years travelling Europe, working at 5 star restaurants all across the continent?”

“Yes, sir.”

He chuckles at the formality. “And you graduated culinary school second in your class.”

“Second only to you, and you know that.”

He smiles. “That’s right, and don't you forget it,” he teases. He lifts his head to look around his kitchen. “We’re sufficiently staffed and not looking for any new hires right now.”

“I know. But I don't think it would hurt to have an extra person on hand. I’m a great chef and I feel that this is the best place for me.”

He pushes himself off the counter and stands up straight. “I’ll tell you what. You can stay or come back after closing. I’ll have you cook a couple of dishes, see what you can do. If I like it, you're hired. If I don't…”

“Jin, you know what I can do,” you interrupt, not wanting him to complete that sentence.

“Y/N, it's been a few years. You're going to have to jog my memory. I don't wanna hire you based on what I can remember; I want to see what you can do.” He hands your resume back to you and you stuff it into the pocket of your parka.

“Very well,” you reply. “Do you mind if I stay? Have a look around?”

“As long as you don't disturb my chefs, do as you like.” He smirks and returns to his work.

You make your way around the kitchen, taking in all it has to offer. You study what each chef is doing. You duck out of the way when one of them needs to move past you, and you silently watch as they run around the kitchen. Eventually, you find yourself in the fully-stocked pantry, surrounded by fresh bread, herbs and spices, vinegars and wines, and large jars of housemade kimchi. You open the door in the pantry that connects to the walk in refrigerator. Within it you find the finest cuts of meat, and the freshest seafood and produce. You can’t help but marvel at the sight. You’ve worked in many restaurants before, but they were never like this. Everything is so well organized, and you can tell it was all hand selected just that morning. You want more than anything to work here and will do anything to make it happen.

“Y/N, do you know what kind of cuisine we make here at Eat Jin?” Jin slowly paces back in forth in front of you, his arms crossed, and a serious expression on his face.

You stand leaning against one of the counters. Across from you are the six other chefs, standing side by side in a line, facing you, and Jin, who is walking in between you and them. It’s about 11pm, just past closing, and Jin has gathered you and his men for a meeting.

“From what I’ve gathered, it seems to be European-Korean fusion, sir.” You look straight ahead at the line of men trying to stare you down and intimidate you.

Jin stops pacing and faces you. “Drop the formalities, please, Y/N. Coming from you it’s just weird.”

“Yes, Jin.” You can’t help but blush a bit.

“And you are correct. Our cuisine is heavily influenced by French and Italian, but we use many flavors that are prevalent in Hansik.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. I saw kimchi stuffed quail, gochujang hollandaise, and bulgogi grilled in rosemary butter, just to name a few.” Your eyes sweep the expanse of his kitchen. “It's like your own twist on Hansik. Jin’s Hansik, or Jinsik, if you will.”

“Jinsik? I like it. You know I’m a sucker for puns.” He lets out a hearty chuckle. “You’re very observant, Y/N.” He clasps his hands behind his back and starts walking again. “Now what I want you to do,” he stops once again, and whips his head dramatically around to face you. Always the goofball, he was. “Is I want you to create a dish. One that would not feel out of place on our menu. You’ve worked in restaurants all over Europe, correct?” He doesn’t give you time to reply. “I want you to apply those skills that you’ve picked up and include some traditional Korean flavors as well. This isn’t a timed challenge; I’m not timing you. I just want to see what you come up with. We can work on timing later. Once you are done, the seven of us will taste your dish, and determine if you are worthy of working in my kitchen.” He sweeps his arm out theatrically, motioning around the room. You wonder why he didn’t pursue an acting degree instead of cooking. The man loves his dramatics.

“Alrighty. Sounds doable.” You shrug off your parka and place it on one of the empty counters.

Jin narrows his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

You stand in the pantry again, staring at the ingredients you have at your disposal. You decide to put a twist on something you know well, something your mom used to make for you when you were little. You grab flour, semolina, some salt, and a few potatoes along with black bean paste, sugar, and aromatics. You run into the fridge to pick up some eggs and a few vegetables on your way back to the kitchen. Jin watches you the entire time.

“Eggs, semolina, flour,” he lists, surveying the ingredients you chose. “Are you making pasta, Y/N? Risky, risky,” he singsongs. You know it's a risk, but you also know that you're totally capable of pulling it off.

The rest of the chefs watch you wordlessly, with steely expressions on their faces. Jin goes to join them and lets you be. He doesn't talk to you again until you're laying small scoops of mashed potatoes on the sheet of pasta you made. “Ravioli… I see, I see. Where are you going with this, Y/N?” He stands behind you, and you can feel his breath on your neck as you place the other sheet of pasta atop the scoops of potato.

You cut the pasta into individual squares and then drop them into the boiling water. Less than five minutes later you fish them out and evenly distribute them among seven plates. You grab the black bean sauce that you had made when the potatoes were boiling, and pour it over top.

“Jjajang ravioli,” Jin observes. “I like it. It’s different. It’s innovative. Isn’t that right, boys?” The six chefs give a vague murmur in response. “Alright, grab a plate, chefs,” he instructs, and they all do as he says.

You watch as his six chefs chew away in silence, with blank expressions. Jin, on the other hand, displays a wide range of emotions on his face while eating, some of which don’t seem relevant to the situation at all.

“Absolutely wonderful,” Jin says after he finishes. “What do you guys think? I want to hear your individual opinions.” A few of the chefs shift on their feet, clearly wanting to have gone home ages ago. “Let’s start with you, Jungkook.”

The tall, lean one stands up a bit straighter. “I, personally, didn’t find it to be anything that special,” he starts. “The consistency of the sauce was a bit too runny for my liking. I prefer my jjajang to be a bit thicker. As for the flavors, the potatoes were a little bland and could have used some salt and maybe a little butter. I’ve had better. As a matter of fact, I’ve made better.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You just learned the guy’s name and you already hated him. Sure he’s handsome, and from what you saw, he knows his way around the kitchen. But he’s a Grade A asshole and you know that if you land this job, you would try to stay as far away from him as possible.

“Okay… What about you, Taehyung?”

The one with the shaggy brown hair steps forward. “I, too, found the dish to be a bit… lacking,” he says, looking only at Jin. “I think she put too much onion into the sauce, which really overpowered all the other flavors.” Excuse him? He isn’t even looking at you and is speaking like you aren’t there. Why? What does he have against you? “I, personally, did not enjoy this dish.” He gives a small nod to signal that he is done talking and steps back.

You look over at Jin and he looks genuinely shocked. “What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Did you really think it was that bad?”

“Chef Jin, if I may?” The tall one with the purple hair raises his hand.

Jin gestures for the man to speak. “Yes, Namjoon. Please.”

“Considering the fact that Y/N came up with this recipe on the spot, I thought she did pretty well.” He smiles in your direction. He hasn’t said much, but you can tell by his tone that he’s the more intelligent out of the bunch. “I thought the flavors worked well together, and it was… Different. Jin, you’re always pushing us to come up with more innovative recipes and this was definitely that.” You look over at Namjoon and he gives you a wink when his eyes meet yours.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” Jin’s eyes travel up and down the row of men. “Anyone else have anything nice to say? Yoongi? Hoseok? Jimin?” The pink haired one puts his finger up and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, Jimin?” The man thinks better of it and closes his mouth, retracting his finger and casting his gaze downward. “Really? No one has anything nice to say? Besides Namjoon?” You can’t hide the look of discouragement that takes over your face at the men’s responses. “Well it doesn’t matter. Y/N, you’re hired.”

“I’m what?”

“She’s what?” Taehyung exclaims at the same time.

“You heard me. She’s hired. Y/N, you start Monday. Taehyung, Jungkook, since you guys were just downright rude to our newest team member, you two stay behind to wash the dishes. Everyone else, you can go home now.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook calls after his boss as all of you are leaving.

“Not another word from you, Jungkookie.” The nickname is meant to be belittling rather than affectionate.

Once you get outside, Namjoon says his goodbye to you and Jin and the other chefs leave without a glance in your direction.

“They seem nice,” you say sarcastically once they’re gone.

“Yeah…” The temperature is just as cold if not colder than it had been when you got to the restaurant, and you can see Jin’s breath wisping around him as he breathes out. “Let me walk you to your car.”

“Um, I actually took the bus here.” Your voice is unsteady from your shivering. You stuff your gloved hands into your pockets, trying to protect them from the cold.

“Then let me drive you home,” Jin offers.

“No, you really don’t have to do that. I don’t live far.”

“Come on. It’s late and the temperature’s below freezing tonight.”

At that moment a gust of wind whips bitterly past you, taking with it all the heat left in your body. “Okay, fine,” you resign.

“Great, my car is this way,” he grabs your arm and starts pulling you in the other direction.

Once in the car, Jin turns on the heater and you feel the warmth penetrate through your frigid body. You sigh at the feeling, grateful that you can once again feel your fingers and toes.

“Thank you for hiring me, Jin,” you say as he pulls the car out of its parking spot.

“Of course, Y/N. You deserve it. Seeing you work today… You really know your stuff.” He smiles but doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“The others don’t seem to agree. Except maybe Namjoon.”

“They’ve worked with me a long time. I don’t think they’re a huge fan of change.” His smile turns into a frown. “And be careful of Namjoon, okay? He’s a huge perv.”

“Thanks for the warning, Jin, but I can take care of myself.”

“I know, just… Just don’t be fooled by his friendliness. I can guarantee that it’s just his strategy of trying to get into your pants.”

“Good to know.”

Not long after, Jin pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building. “Do you want me to walk you upstairs?” he asks as you get out of his car.

“No that’s alright. I can manage,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Any time, Y/N. Rest up this weekend. You’ve got a big day on Monday, make sure you’re ready.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’ll see you then. Good night.”

“Night.”

“Oh wait, before you go, give me your number so I can send you the recipes.” He pulls out his phone and tries to hand it to you.

“I haven't changed it, it’s still the same number as before.”

He checks his contact list to make sure you're still there. “Great, I still have it.” He waves his phone in front of you so you can see your name and number displayed on it, along with a cringe worthy picture he took of you when you were still in school. “I’ll see you Monday, Y/N.”

“Yes, see you then.” You start to leave, but turn back around to add, “Oh, and please delete that picture. I hate it.”

He chuckles. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

When you get back to your apartment the first thing you do is faceplant into your pillow and scream. “I can’t believe I did it. I got the job,” you squeal, your voice muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase. You have no trouble falling asleep after feeling like a tremendous weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You get up bright and early the next morning to go to the farmers market and secure all the ingredients you need to practice Jin’s recipes. Eat Jin does not have an extensive menu, just short of a dozen dishes, since he puts more of an emphasis on quality rather than quantity. This is good for you, since you only have two days to learn everything. So you go back to your apartment after getting everything you need and you get to work. Your kitchen is a lot smaller than you’d like, but you had been away for so long, and the decision to come back home was somewhat abrupt, so you didn’t put too much effort into apartment hunting. You just took whatever was available and convenient.

You prepare each recipe a few times, making sure you get all the measurements precisely as he wrote down. You try each one of them, and goddamn are they good. There was a reason Jin was ranked number one in culinary school, and a reason his restaurant is the best in the nation.

You spend the entire weekend memorizing everything, making sure you have every last dollop of gochujang, every last pinch of salt stored in your memory. You go to sleep Sunday night confident that you have all of it down and that you wouldn’t disappoint Jin the next day.

“Y/N, where is the heavy cream?!” Taehyung yells from the other side of the kitchen.

“I have it here. I’m done with it so you can take it,” you yell back.

He stomps over and snatches the carton of cream off of the counter next to you. “If you’re done with it then put it back, so I wouldn’t have to go into the fridge, see that it’s not there, and waste my time,” he barks.

“Damn, sorry. I thought I would need it again.” What was his problem?

“Whatever, just get back to work.” You grimace at him as he walks away.

“I wouldn’t have stopped my work if you didn’t start talking to me,” you grumble and return to mashing the potatoes in the bowl in front of you.

Yoongi comes over with several plates of butter-grilled bulgogi. “Hurry and put that stuff on these plates so we can get them out.” There is no kindness in his voice but it also lacks the disdain that Taehyung had for you.

You do as he says and when you finish, you put the plates on a tray for the waiter to take into the dining room.

The rest of the night plays out in a similar fashion, with the occasional snarky comment from Taehyung and curt orders from the rest. You’re relieved when Jin finally announces that the kitchen is closing, but become panicked when he asks you to see him in his office. Did you do something wrong? Did a customer complain about something you did? Did you forget an ingredient? Or an entire recipe altogether? These questions swim through your mind as you cross the threshold into his cozy little workspace.

His office is a small room on the side of the kitchen. The interior is decorated with tastefully stained hardwood trim and the entire back wall is one large bookshelf, filled completely with cookbooks and references from every culture imaginable. The opposite wall is where the door is and has window, shielded by blinds that are now closed but can be opened of Jin felt like watching what was going on in the kitchen while he did paperwork. The walls were painted with a deep, rich green. A wooden desk that matched the trim sits in the middle of the small room, a swivel chair on either side of it. There isn't much on his desk. Just a lamp, those ones with the stained glass, like in those old libraries, also the only light source in the room, some pens, and a couple of pieces of paper.

When you walk in, you see Jin sitting in the chair behind his desk that faces the window and door. “Close the door behind you,” he instructs.

“Nice little space you have here,” you say, surveying your new surroundings.

“Thanks. Most of it belonged to the original owner of the restaurant. When we tore this place apart for remodeling, I made sure that we kept this office the way it was.”

“Nice. It's a little dark, though.” The little tiny desk lamp isn't helped much by the dark green paint. Honestly, if this were anywhere else, it would give you the heebie jeebies.

“We were thinking of putting recessed lighting into the ceiling, but something with the wiring didn't work out. Also, it would ruin the atmosphere, don't you think? If I want more light I could just open the blinds and use the light from the kitchen.”

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me, Jin?”

“Hm?” He raises his eyebrows. Then, suddenly as if he just remembered that he’s the one who called you in here, he says, “Ah! Yes! I wanted to tell you a couple things. The first being: good job out there tonight! You did very well for your first day.”

“Thanks.” You couldn't help but smile at his compliment.

“You made every dish perfectly, and with only having two days to memorize them all, that’s impressive.”

“Thank you,” you say again. Most of the anxiety leaves you but some of it still remains. “What's the second thing?” You ask.

“We have a tradition here at Eat Jin. Every Friday one of the chefs creates an original recipe to be featured as a special on that day. It works on a rotation, so after each chef has a turn, the cycle starts over. That gives you eight weeks to come up with a new recipe. However, we just finished a rotation, so I thought it’d be a great time to fit you in. You only have until friday, but I want you to come up with a recipe to be featured as a special. You need to have it by thursday night so you can share it with the other chefs.”

“I… uhh…” Only three days to come up with a recipe? That will be served to customers at the restaurant?

“I know you can do it. You came up with a great recipe last week. On the spot, too. Now I’m giving you the week to prepare.”

“But that was just for you. Not for hundreds of people.”

“You can do it, Y/N. Don't worry. I believe in you.”

Thankfully Eat Jin is only open in the evenings, which gives you the daytime to prepare your recipe. Tuesday and Wednesday you get up early again to go to the farmers market. You fail to find inspiration among the vibrantly colored fruits and vegetables, and go home discouraged each time.

Your nights become busier, taking on more responsibilities as you ease into the flow of things, and the chefs still seem to despise you. Except for Namjoon.

“Hey, Y/N!” He sidles up next to you as you chop vegetables up for stew. You look over to see a huge grin plastered to his face.

“What are you so smiley about?” You ask him.

“Oh, nothing.” He leans in closer until you can feel his breath prickle against your neck. He lowers his voice and whispers, “I’m just thinking about how sexy you look with your hair a mess like that, and I’m imagining how much messier it’d look when you let me fuck your brains out.”

You shudder at his proximity. “That’s never going to happen.”

He brings his hand out and smacks your ass. “Hey, don't be like that. I can tell you're not innocent. I can tell you like to be treated like a slut.”

You stop chopping and point your knife at him. “Is that really any way to speak to someone who can slit your throat with the flick of her wrist?”

“I know you would never,” he smirks.

“We’ll see about that.” You lower the knife and return to chopping.

“So fucking hot,” he says under his breath and returns to where he was before he joined you.

“Jin was right, he is a huge fucking perv,” you mumble to yourself.

Not long after, the pink haired one, Jimin, as you remember, comes over and slams a plate down in front of you. “What the hell is this?!?”

You look at it. “Grilled salmon?”

“On what planet is this edible?” The man raises his eyebrows. Even angry, there's something inherently adorable about him, and you wonder how that could be possible.

“What’s wrong with it?” You snarl.

“What’s wrong with it? Are you blind?” He angrily gestures toward the plate with his hands.

“Maybe.”

He picks up a spear of asparagus off the plate and waves it in your face. “Look at this! It’s over cooked! We can't serve this!”

You pluck the vegetable from his fingers and take a bite. “Seems fine to me,” you say as you chew.

“You think because Chef Jin’s in love with you or whatever, you can get away with this shit? Not here. Around here it doesn't work like that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“‘Absolutely wonderful, Y/N!’ ‘Your dish was incredible, Y/N!’ ‘You can drop the formalities, Y/N!’” he mocks. “It's so fucking obvious you fucked your way here. Maybe you are blind.”

At moment, you feel someone walk up behind you. “Is there a problem here, Chef Jimin?” You turn around to see Jin standing with his arms crossed.

“As a matter of fact, there is. Y/N overcooked the asparagus and now it's inedible.”

Jin grabs the spear that you’re still holding from you and takes a bite. “It seems fine to me. Now stop wasting time and get back to work, chef.”

Jimin glares at you before taking the plate and leaving.

“You too, Y/N.”

You lower your gaze back to your vegetables and return to chopping.

After work, you catch Sooyeon as she’s leaving. You were bathed in testosterone all night and are now desperate for some female company.

“Hey! Sooyeon!” you call out to her. “We haven’t spoken much since last week. How are you?”

“Hey, Y/N. God, I’m so tired. The line was endless tonight and so many people got pissed at me when they couldn’t get a table. Like it’s not my fault you didn’t make a reservation?”

You chuckle lightly in response. “Hey thanks for letting me back there on Friday. I wouldn’t have gotten this job if it weren’t for you.”

“Haha. You’re welcome.” She leans in closer to you. “To be honest I only did it because I was scared of what you would do if I hadn’t.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Am I really that scary?”

“Not really scary, but like… intimidating I guess.”

“Well, I want to thank you. Let me take you out for a drink or something.”

“Right now?” There’s a hint of surprise in her voice that suggests she doesn’t get invited out much.

“Yeah, if you’re up for it.”

“Sure, sounds good. I’m not really a drinker though, can we do coffee instead?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You give her a reassuring smile.

Sooyeon grabs her coat and you both leave together.

You find a 24 hour internet cafe a couple of blocks away. The two of you settle into a booth and shrug off your puffy jackets.

“Holy fuck is it cold outside,” you say.

“It’s not as bad as it has been the last couple of years,” Sooyeon responds.

“Really? Damn I’m glad I missed it then.”

A waitress comes over with the drinks you two had ordered at the counter before you sat down. Once she leaves, a silence washes over your table.

You take this as an opportunity to ask what you’ve been wanting to ask since you left the restaurant.

“Sooyeon,” you start. “Why are there so few women working at Eat Jin? I mean, you and I are the only females there. Even the waiters are all men.” You wrap your freezing hands around the warmth of your coffee mug.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“Uhhh. Both?” From Sooyeon’s tone, you’re kind of scared of what she’s going to say.

“Well short answer is: they all quit. Long answer…” She takes a sip from her mug before continuing. “There used to be a few female staff. A few waitresses. This was a couple of years ago, not long after Eat Jin opened.”

“So you’ve been there since the beginning?”

“Yeah. I saw an ad in the paper for a position at a new restaurant that was opening soon. At that time I also just graduated and needed a place to work, so I applied and was hired not long after.”

“Mhm.” You take a sip from your mug.

“Anyway, yeah, so when we first opened there were a few waitresses. The male chefs, you know, the ones you work with? They treated the waitresses horribly. Always yelling at them if they couldn’t get the food out on time, or blamed them whenever a customer sent a dish back.”

“What the fuck? That’s not something the waitresses can control. Why are those chefs still working there? Why haven’t they been fired?”

“They always did it when Jin wasn’t around, so he still doesn’t know about it. Anyway, eventually they all quit and we were left with an all male wait staff. For some reason those chefs aren’t so harsh on the men.”

“They are so unbelievably sexist, oh my god.” Hearing this gives you all the more reason to hate them. They weren’t just rude to you, but all women in general. This new information has you fuming.

“They are. Which is why you hardly ever see me back there.”

“Why do you stay?” You see her eyebrows perk up a little at the question.

“Hm? Me? I–uh…” She averts her gaze, looking anywhere but at you. “The chefs may be horrible, but Jin is a very nice man. The best boss I’ve had as a matter of fact.” You can see the blush creep into her cheeks.

You place a hand on her arm and smile at her when she looks up at you. “I get it, Sooyeon.”

“Um, what?”

“He is a very nice man. Quite handsome, too.”

“I–no that’s not what I meant.” You can see the redness in her cheeks turn a shade darker.

“It’s okay, Sooyeon.”

“No, really. He’s my boss; that would be wildly inappropriate. Also, you two used to be together, and I can tell he still likes you.”

What? “Jin and I may have been together in the past, but we are just friends. Any feelings we have for each other are purely platonic. So, if you want to go for it, be my guest.” You didn’t think Jin still had feelings for you, did he? It’s been three years. That’s plenty of time to get over you. He seemed totally okay when the two of you broke up. You had only been together for about a year and never even gotten to the point where you said “I love you” to each other. The two of you weren’t invested enough to actually still have feelings for each other. Right?

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I see the way you two look at each other. Even if you deny it, I can see that there’s something there.”

“I’ll admit I did miss him while I was gone.” Now you’re the one blushing and you opt to stare into your coffee instead of at the girl across from you.

“Ha!” Sooyeon bangs her hand on the table and points at you, causing you and a few other customers around you to jump. “I knew it!” You try to hide your face in your turtleneck. “You should totally go for it, Y/N. Like I said, I can tell he still feels the same.”

“What about you?” you ask. “Wouldn’t that be weird for you?”

“Nah, I don’t see anything happening between us. He’s attractive and all but I don’t think he sees me as anything but one of his employees. Maybe a friend on a good day, but nothing more. And I can see that you’d make him happy. So if it’s what you want, go for it. Maybe I can live vicariously through you.” You both laugh at her last comment.

The two of you finish your coffee and stay a while longer to chat about school, work, Jin, and anything and everything else. You enjoy having another woman you can talk to and make a mental note to invite Sooyeon out for coffee more often.

Thursday morning you head to the farmers market once again, hoping that inspiration will finally strike you. However, it’s to no avail when you leave the market just as clueless as you had arrived. On your way back you pass by a butcher shop that you used to frequent while still in school. They’re having a special on fresh duck. That’s when the idea hits you, and you walk in a grab a couple before rushing back to your apartment to test out your idea.

When you return to your place, you get cooking, using the same spices and seasonings that your mom taught you. You make sure to write down every last ingredient you throw into your dish, down to the last dash of pepper. After a few hours, you feel that it’s finally ready. You bring the piece of cardstock on which you wrote the recipe up to your face and kiss it when you confirm that everything is just right. You print 7 copies and place them in a neat stack as you get ready for work that night.

“Duck confit sundubu?!” Hoseok’s voice is incredulous as he reads over the recipe you distributed amongst the chefs. “Y/N, do you know how long it takes to make duck confit?”

“Most of it is the marination, which we can do tonight. The actual preparation won’t take that long.”

“And you’ve tasted it? This combination can’t possibly work,” Jungkook scoffs.

“Yes, I’ve tasted it. And it most definitely works,” you spit back.

“Just make the recipe as it is,” Jin cuts in. “It’s up to the customers whether it works or not.”

Jungkook grunts in resignation before grabbing his coat and leaving. The rest of the chefs follow suit and soon you’re left alone in the kitchen with Jin.

“I see they still haven’t warmed up to you,” Jin observes.

“Do you think they ever will?”

“Maybe. Eventually. Hopefully.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I’m sure they will. Don’t worry about it. Give them some time.”

“Whatever. I’m going to get started on preparing the duck.” You head towards the refrigerator. “You can go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Y/N. Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Goodnight, Jin.”

The next night is a blur. Or at least most of it is. You’re so busy keeping up with orders that you don’t notice what the customers are saying about your dish.

Occasionally, Namjoon comes to work next to you, spewing his usual sexually harassing comments, and you try your best just to brush him off and not cut off his balls. Taehyung and the rest of the chefs don’t bother you too much throughout the night, though sometimes Yoongi, who is in charge of cooking the duck, would glare in your direction as if your dish was making his life so much harder.

After closing, Jin comes over to you to congratulate you. “The customers loved your dish, Y/N! Well done!” He reaches his arm out and at first you think he’s going to hug you, but he goes for a high five instead.

“Really? They did?” You can’t help but hide the surprise in your voice.

“Yup! Nothing but positive comments from each person who ordered it.” He gives you a big grin. You suddenly remember that his hand is still in yours and free yourself from his grip, a slight blush creeping into your cheeks.

“That’s good to hear.” You smile back at him.

“We should celebrate! Go out for a drink! Does anyone want to come?” The both of you look around the kitchen. Most of the chefs shake their heads or make vague noncommittal noises while avoiding eye contact.

All but one keep relatively quiet. “I would love to go!” You hear Namjoon exclaim.

You quickly look at Jin and shake your head with a panicked expression on your face. “No! No!” you mouth to him.

“Ah… That’s alright, Namjoon. Seeing as no one else wants to go, I guess we should just call it a night.” Jin gives an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, okay.” For a second there, you think Namjoon actually sounds disappointed. Like he actually thought he was going to get laid tonight. You shudder at the thought. “I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow then.” He grabs his coat and heads out.

“See you tomorrow Namjoon,” you call after him.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.” Jin says just seconds after. Once Namjoon and the rest of the chefs are gone, Jin turns toward you and sticks his elbow out, indicating that you should loop your arm through his. “Shall we?”

You link arms with him. “Sure.”

He takes you to one of those trendy bars near your old university. “Remember we used to come here all the time on the weekends?” Jin asks when the two of you find a couple of empty stools at the bar and sit down.

“What can I get for you two?” The bartender asks.

“I’ll have a beer,” Jin replies. “Y/N, what do you want?”

“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” you say.

“Don't you mean a Jin and tonic?” He slaps his thigh and lets out his signature windshield wiper laugh that you remember well.

You smack him on the arm. “You know, the only reason I originally tried it was because of you, but then I ended up liking it, so now it's the only drink I ever order.”

“I'm glad to know I've had such an impact on you.” You smack him again and he brings his hand up to rub his arm.

The two of you spend the night catching up, informing each other of what you've been doing in the last three years. You told him stories of your travels and ask him about his restaurant.

“How were you able to open such a successful restaurant so soon after graduating?” You ask him.

“Remember I used to work in like six different restaurants while we were still in school? By the time we graduated I had quite a bit of money in my savings account. The former owner of the restaurant was retiring and sold me the place pretty cheap.” He takes a sip from his drink. “Remodeling was a pain in the ass though. All the equipment, the appliances, everything was outdated. Thankfully my dad knows a good contractor that will work quick and cheap, so in just a couple of months, we were ready to open.”

“And your chefs?” You grimace at the thought of them.

“I didn't come to them so much as they came to me. Or rather, were given to me. I would have asked you to join me, but we had already agreed to break up so we wouldn't have to deal with a long distance relationship while you were away.”

“Ah yes, I remember.” You frown at the memory.

“You remember Mrs. Choi, our pastry instructor?” You nod. “She told me about this group of young chefs, all well trained in all kinds of cuisine, still in school but could use the experience in a real kitchen. I liked the sound of it so I took them on, and after they graduated, they stayed.” He sets his drink down and places his hands in his lap. “As for the success? That came to us purely by luck.” You nodded to let him know that you were still paying attention. “A famous western food critic just happened to stumble upon our little establishment on its opening night. That night we only had four items on our menu. He ordered one of each. I didn't know who he was at the time so I didn't think anything of it. The next day I saw his review on the internet. He gave us 9.6 stars out of ten! That’s the most out of all the restaurants he’s reviewed. After that the clientele just came pouring in and didn't stop.”

“You've been lucky over the last few years.” You grab your drink and take a sip.

“So have you.” He places his hand on top of your knee. “You mentored with all the greats, Puck, Batali, Lawson, Samuelsson. Not just anyone can do that.”

“I know,” you smile. “I had a great time. But I couldn't help but miss home. Everywhere I went, it was there in the back of my mind, calling me to come back. After a while I just had to answer that call and return to Seoul, and to you.” You use your hand to gently cup his cheek, locking eyes with him.

He leans in and gently caresses your lips with his. “Your lips are just as soft as I remember.”

You're so focused on him that you nearly spill your drink on your lap. You set it down and use your hands to pull him closer, kissing him harder. He gets off his stool and moves closer, grabbing your waist with his hand and giving it a light squeeze. You open your mouth to his and let his tongue slip in. You moan into his mouth as he presses himself closer to you. You don't care about how many people are here, you don't care about who sees.

He pulls back and puts his lips to your ear, nibbling at the lobe. “Do you wanna get out of here?” He whispers.

You nod your head yes before you can think better of it.

“My place or yours?” His lips now travel to your jaw and down your neck.

“Yours,” you breathe. “My apartment is embarrassingly tiny.”

He pulls at your waist and you hop off the stool. He then guides you through the crowd towards the door.

“It's been so long since I've tasted you…” He positions his head between your legs and places a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh. You're back at his place, lying on his bed, both of you stripped of every article of clothing you had on earlier that night. “May I?”

“Mmm. Mhm.” You shudder when he places his mouth on your folds, sucking on them gently.

“Your dish was the second best thing I've ever tasted.” He licks a stripe up your slit, scooping up your juices with his tongue. You let out a low moan. “This being the first.”

You watch as he presses his plump pink lips against your swollen clit. You can’t help the whimper that escapes from your throat at the sensation.

“So sweet. So wet. Just how I like it.” You gasp as he pushes his tongue into you, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Ah, Jin. God I've missed this,” you pant. “If you keep this up I’m not gonna last,” You can already feel the tightness building in your stomach as he swirls his tongue around inside of you.

He retracts his muscle and plants kisses up your body until he reaches your mouth. You can taste yourself as his tongue plays with yours. You run your hands from his broad shoulders down his toned, muscular back. You can feel goosebumps forming beneath your touch.

You bite down on his bottom lip, pulling on it as you pull back and place your lips on his ear. “You want me to ride you?” You whisper.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he murmurs with his lips on your neck.

You push him until he’s lying on his back and you crawl over and position yourself over his hardened member. Facing away from him, with a leg on either side of his hips, you take his length in your hands and rub it against your clit and along your wet slit before sitting down on him, eliciting a mellifluous moan from his mouth. You run your hands along his thighs as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“Mmmm. Y/N, that feels so good,” he sighs. He grips your hips with his hands and meets the roll of your hips with the thrust of his. You close your eyes as you reach your hands up to massage your nipples, gasping each time Jin hits you in just the right spot. A moment later you feel his hand on your shoulder. “Allow me,” he breathes.

Before you can say anything, he suddenly sits up and pulls you toward him so that your back is flush against his chest, his hands rubbing circles into your breasts as he thrusts into you from behind. You reach back to run your fingers through his hair as he sucks and nibbles at your neck. “Ah Jin, I’m close,” you gasp. But you're more than close, you're right on the edge of your high. And instead of relenting, he brings one of his hands down to rub your clit, giving you the push you need. Before you know it, you're coming around him with the sweet sound of his name escaping from your lips.

When you come down from your orgasm, he pulls out and flips you over so that you're lying on your back, with him hovering over you. He enters you again and his thrusts are slower and gentler this time, but gradually build up to the pace he had before you came. You plant kisses along his collarbone and chest as you swirl your nails around his back.

Soon he pulls out of you again and pumps himself with his hand. “Where can I come?”

Without answering you bend down and take his cock in your mouth. He hums at the sudden warmth around him and the feeling of your wet tongue is enough to push him over the edge. “Ah fuck, Y/N,” he groans as he comes into your mouth.

You run your hand up and down his length a couple more times with your mouth still wrapped around his head, before pulling away. You swallow his orgasm and look him in the eyes. “And that's the best thing I've ever tasted.”

You’re about to get up and put on your clothes when Jin takes a hold of your wrist to stop you. “You can stay, you know. I’m not going to make you leave.”

You look at him, debating whether or not you want to stay. You think back to all those nights when you still lived together. You remember how he used to hold you as you slept, and how you missed the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you, the feeling of his soft breath against your neck as he spooned you from behind. “Okay,” you smile at him and slip back under the covers. You rest your head on his smooth, broad shoulder. “I've missed this,” you whisper as he encircles you with his arms.

“Me too,” he whispers back, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

You lie there, listening to Jin’s breathing as he falls asleep. Eventually he drifts off and you're left staring at the ceiling in silence. You can't get what Jimin said to you the other day out of your head.

“It's so fucking obvious you fucked your way here.”

His voice echoes in your ears. But you didn't, did you? Did Jin only hire you because you were together in the past? Maybe you weren't as good as he had you believe, and the other chefs were right. Maybe Jin only treated you this way because you previously had a connection. You can't tell if you’re realizing the truth, or if the other chefs’ strategy to fill you with these toxic thoughts is working.

You wake up around 10 the next morning, your nostrils filled with the scent of french toast and bacon. You find Jin in the kitchen, making breakfast on the griddle.

“Hey, good morning!” He says as he flips over a piece of french toast.

“Morning.” You yawn. “Making American breakfast today?”

“Yeah, I know you like it.” He smiles and returns his attention to the food. You notice the bags on the dining table, filled with fresh ingredients, evidence that Jin had gotten up early and had already gone grocery shopping that morning.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do all this for me.” You walk up next to him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I’m glad you remembered, though.”

“Of course I remember! It hasn’t been that long. Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” He leans over and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I help?” You take a seat at the table.

“No, I can handle it. You just sit and have some orange juice.”

You grab the carton that’s on the table and pour yourself a cup. “I don’t really like orange juice, remember?”

“Oh right. That’s right.,” He smacks himself on the forehead with his hand. “How could I forget?”

“Maybe it has been too long. Anyway it’s not a big deal.” You stare at the cup you poured yourself, debating whether you should drink it to be polite or leave it for Jin.

“Do you want to do anything together today?” He grabs a couple of plates from the cupboard and starts plating the food. “I don’t have to be at the restaurant until four, which, if we eat fast, gives us 5 hours to do whatever we want.”

“I think I need to go back to my place and, you know, shower and change and all that.”

“We can grab lunch later?” Jin suggests.

“Seeing all this delicious food you made, I might be too full to eat lunch and just skip it and eat an early dinner.” These are just excuses. The truth is, you didn’t want to go out with Jin during the day, and risk the other guys seeing you out with him or arriving at the restaurant together. They already suspected you of sleeping with your boss. You didn't want to confirm their suspicions by being seen with him outside of work. “I’ll just meet you at the restaurant, okay?”

You walk over to Jin and wrap your arms around his waist, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Okay. So are we…?” He starts. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are we back together?”

“If you want to, we can be.” You nuzzle your face into his firm back, breathing in the scent of his skin, his soap, and the fabric softener that clings to his old t-shirt.

“I do want that. Very much,” he sighs, leaning back into you slightly.

You stay like that a while longer, not wanting to let go of him like you did before, not realizing that you are and always were completely and utterly in love with him. You knew that putting your career first was the smart thing to do, but now that you were working for the best, you didn’t need to. Now you could love him the way you always wanted to.

If only things worked out as nicely at Eat Jin.

“We have a problem.” One of the waiters, Jihoon, bursts through the kitchen doors, panting a little as if he just ran from the dining room into here.

All of the chefs stopped to look at him. “What’s the issue?” Taehyung asks.

“You know that hardass food critic? Park Jihan? The one who wrote that shitty review about us last year? The one who hates pretty much anything he puts in that asshole mouth of his?” Jihoon waves the tray he’s holding around angrily.

“Shit,” Taehyung mutters. “Don’t tell me he’s here.” He sets his bowl down and walks over toward Jihoon. The other chefs, including you, follow suit.

“Well, buddy. I can’t do that.”

“Shit. Well what did he order?” Jimin chimes in.

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t want anything on our menu. He told me, and I shit you not, ‘I’m not even going to bother looking at your menu because it’s shit, but I’m going to give you another chance to impress me. So go tell the chefs to make me something that will impress me...’” He then turns toward you, his stare pierces through you and you wonder what you ever did to him to make him look at you with such contempt. “‘...I hear you have a new one.’”

All the chefs turn to look at you, and you feel as if you’ve just been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “I… fuck.” You don’t know what to say or what to do for that matter. Everyone’s eyes are on you, watching you squirm.

“Where’s Jin?” Namjoon asks, diverting attention from you. You kick yourself for it, but at that moment you’re grateful that he’s there.

“I think he said he’d be out tonight. That he’s meeting with an accountant about financial stuff or something and would be back later,” Hoseok replies.

“Fuck,” Taehyung swears. “The one night we need him, he’s gone.”

“We don’t have time to come up with an entirely new recipe without testing it,” Yoongi counters. “Why don’t we just change up one of the current recipes? Not so much that we risk it being utter shit, but enough that the Asshole won’t recognize it?”

“Because Jin won’t be happy if we fuck with his recipe. I mean he probably won’t do anything, have you ever seen him mad? But he definitely won’t be happy.” Taehyung pauses, thinking. He then turns his attention back towards you. “Which is why we’ll have Y/N do it.”

“What?” you sputtered.

“Hyung,” Jungkook protests. “Do you really think she’s capable of producing a dish that Jihan will like?”

“Not sure. But if he hates it, we can just blame it on her, say that since she’s new, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but she insisted on making his meal for him.”

“What makes you think I’ll agree to that?” you hissed.

“You want to prove yourself? Show that you’re just as good as the rest of us? Make something Jihan will like.”

You don’t like that Taehyung is propositioning you, but if this is an opportunity to finally earn their respect, then you’re going to take it. You’re sick of them constantly pushing you around and you want them to finally see you as their equal.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” You spin around on your heel and get to work.

In less than ten minutes, you churn out a modified version of the dish you had been working on in hopes that the critic will like it. You wait until Jihoon returns from serving the last batch of dishes and nervously set the plate on his tray.

“He better fucking like it,” he grunts as he takes the dish from you.

“Do you have a problem with me, Jihoon?”

“No, not at all,” he replies rather unconvincingly before turning around and heading toward the dining room.

Waiting for a response is agony. Every second Jihoon is gone feels like hours. After what feels like a hundred years, but is probably actually no more than five minutes, Jihoon returns.

“He loved it!” he announces.

Taehyung nearly drops the pot he’s holding, but catches it as it hits the counter, making a loud clang.. “He did?!?”

“Yes! And he wants to speak to the chef who made it!” You look over at Jihoon and for the first time, he’s smiling at you.

You’re so stunned that you can’t speak or move. Your eyes move around the room, taking in the other chefs’ reactions, as you stand there with your jaw dropped. You’re about to make your way toward the dining room when Taehyung pushes past you and goes instead. Your eyes go wide and nearly pop out of your head as they follow his proud posture as he disappears behind the double doors.

They make their way back to Jihoon and find that he’s looking at you with the same expression. “Why did you just let him do that?” he blurts.

“I– I–” you stammer. “I guess I just didn’t expect it? I’m still kind of in shock over everything…” You place a hand on the counter to steady yourself. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. You all know that I made the dish, and that he liked it.” You look around to all the other chefs. They look up at you briefly, but then return to cooking. “I know that I made it. That’s what really matters.”

Jihoon doesn’t seem convinced. “If I were you I would beat his smug little ass the second he walks back in here.”

A few minutes later, Jin bursts through the door with his hand gripped tight around Taehyung’s collar. Jin throws him against one of the counters and Taehyung stumbles as he tries to regain his balance and stand up straight. One of the things that used to always surprise you about Jin when you first met was that he’s a lot stronger than he looks and can easily throw someone Taehyung’s size around and not break a sweat.

“I guess I don’t need to,” you say to Jihoon, and he lets out a snicker.

“Jin! You’re here!” Namjoon exclaims, but Jin ignores him.

“You messed with my recipe? Taehyung you're fired,” Jin says flatly.

“It wasn't me! I– uh… It was Y/N!” They both look accusingly toward you.

Jin crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “So you lied and said it was yours because Jihan loved it? You're even more fired.”

“Sir!” Taehyung protests.

“Taehyung, you’re a great chef. But the truth is, I can't fucking stand you. With your skills I don't doubt that you can find a new job in no time. Please, get out.” He lifts his hand to point at the door.

Taehyung stares daggers into you before picking up and throwing the nearest pan into the sink with an explosive clang and storming out.

“Y/N, let’s talk in my office.” He ushers you into the tiny room and switches on the little lamp.

He moves to close the door but before he can, you interject. “You might wanna leave the door open or they'll think we're fucking in here or something.” He gives you a startled look but doesn’t say anything. He just leaves the door open and walks over to his desk. “Fuck,” you mutter. “If I told you I was the one who made that dish, would you have fired me?”

“No. I just hate that guy and I needed an excuse to have him gone. Why did you let him take the credit?” You can see the little twitch in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You pause, really thinking about it. “I don't need it. I know I’m a good chef and I don't need validation from others.”

“But you deserve it. You can't let all these men walk all over you. They're great chefs, sure. But they've got huge egos and won't hesitate to drag you down if it means they get to be on top. They're shitty people.”

You cross your arms. “So you've noticed.”

He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” you grumble.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He lifts his eyebrows, and the annoyance on his face is replaced with genuine concern.

“No, not right now.” You’re tired, and talking about all the shitty things the other chefs have said and done to you would only make you more upset.

“Well, if I ever find out that another one of these chefs takes credit from you again and you don't say anything, I’m firing both of you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” You take it as a dismissal and give him a half-hearted salute before heading back into the kitchen.

“And Y/N,” he says as you're leaving. You pause and turn toward him. “Don't let them get to you, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

And you really do. But you can tell that they blame you for Taehyung getting fired, even though it’s not your fault. It was all him and his ego.

About a week later, you’re preparing a sauce, minding your own business, when suddenly you feel a jolt from behind. The force knocks the wind out of you, causing you to spill more than half of what you were making onto the floor.

You whip around to face the culprit. “What the fuck?!?” you exclaim.

“What?” Jungkook smirks.

“You did that on purpose!” You gesture your arms vaguely in the direction of the spill.

“Did what?” He looks down at the mess you, no he, made. “Hmph. Maybe it’s for the better.” He flashes you a wicked grin before walking away, retreating to his side of the kitchen.

“AGH!” You flick your wrists, trying to fling off the excess sauce that’s dripping from your sleeves.

You don’t see Jin in the kitchen, which means he just missed that entire scene. The light in his office is off too, so he isn’t there. Where the hell is he?

A few seconds later, you see him come out of the refrigerator. The second you lay eyes on him, you’re marching over to him, furious.

“Jin, I can’t deal with those sexist assholes,” you fume. “I can’t stand to be in the same kitchen as them for another second. They’re driving me nuts! I’m sorry but I quit.”

“What? Y/N, you can’t quit! You’re the best chef here! Much better than anyone else in this kitchen, me included. If you leave, this whole restaurant will come crashing down!”

“I just.. I just can’t take it anymore! They’re just… Fucking assholes.”

He just stares at you, eyes wide as he figures out how to handle this. You await his response, preparing to walk out of this kitchen for good and away from the man you love. Jin’s eyes don’t leave yours as he calls out to his men. “Chefs. Stop what you’re doing. Get out and don’t come back. You’re all fired.”

Your jaw drops. “Jin, what the fuck?!” You hear one of them exclaim.

You see Yoongi approach the two of you, but Jin doesn’t look at him. His focus remains on you. “Jin, are you really going to fire us over some girl? What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck has gotten into you? Do you really think you can run this restaurant without us? We are the foundation of this establishment. Without us, this place is nothing.”

Jin finally whips around to face his former staff members. “I have had enough with your shitty attitudes. I’m so sick of seeing you guys constantly pushing Y/N around. I want you all out.”

“Do you think we won’t be able to find new jobs?” Jungkook joins in. “We’re some of the best chefs in the country. We’ll find new kitchens.”

“I don’t care if you can find a new kitchen or not,” Jin says calmly, but you can see the anger in his eyes. “I want you out of mine. Now GET OUT!” You jump at the sudden raise in his voice.

All five of the men give disgusted looks before leaving the kitchen, without another word from any of them.

“You didn’t have to fire them,” you say after they all have left. You don’t know why you say that, because you definitely don’t mean it. You’re glad that they’re fired. They definitely deserve it. You just want to say anything to fill the heavy silence that has taken over the kitchen.

“And risk losing you? Not going to happen. I don’t care how good they are at what they do, you’re much better. And if any of them are making you uncomfortable, or are making this a place you don’t want to work, then they need to go.”

“Thank you, Jin.” You wrap your arms around him and he envelopes you in a hug.

He holds you tight and presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair.

His words startle you, this being the first time he’s ever said those words to you, in that order, and in that context. You always wondered what they would sound like leaving his mouth, but now that they have, you find that you were not prepared to hear such a sweet and delicate sound. You pull back to look at him. “I love you, too.”

“I always have.”

“You–uh–what?”

“I was going to say it to you before you left, but you said you wanted to end things, so I just… I never did.” While he says this you reach up and cup his cheek in your hand. “But I never stopped. I always thought about you, about the fun adventures you were having. I always loved you and hoped you would come home eventually. I didn’t see anyone while you were away, not seriously at least. I just couldn’t bring myself to think about anyone like that, besides you.”

You bury your face into his chest. “I’ve always loved you too,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.

“Is everything, okay? I heard yelling. Oh.” You turn around to see Sooyeon standing at the threshold of the kitchen. You quickly pull away from Jin and stand up straight, reestablishing your professionalism. She smiles at the sight of the two of you, but starts backing away slowly. “I’m just gonna… Leave you two to continue with whatever it was you were doing.” She gives you a thumbs up before turning around to return to the dining room.

“Sooyeon, wait.” Jin calls out to her. “I just fired most of our chefs… So um… Don’t seat any new customers. Tell them we’re closing early for the night. And that we may be closed for a while so we can sort things out.”

“Yes, sir.” Sooyeon replies, but when she sees Jin raise an eyebrow at her, she corrects herself. “I mean, Jin.” She gives a small bow and heads back to the dining room.

When she’s gone, Jin claps his hands together. “Well, we gotta get to work. These orders aren’t going to fill themselves.”

Epilogue:

Eat Jin reopens about a month later with six new chefs, three men and three women, fresh out of culinary school with tremendous amounts of potential. The restaurant is just as successful, even without those talented, yet asshole chefs. Thankfully, you never hear from any of them again, except Namjoon, who would occasionally stop by and ask if you wanted to go out for a drink with him. You reject him each time.

On the one year anniversary of you working there, Jin invites all your friends and family for a private dinner at the restaurant. That’s where he decides to get down on one knee and ask you to marry him. You say yes, surrounded by all the people you love, in the workplace you’ve come to adore.

The wedding takes place in the Springtime, when that frigid air that you hate so much has long dissipated. The two of you say your vows while surrounded by the warm breeze and falling cherry blossoms. Sooyeon, your maid of honor, tries to hold back her squeals as you and Jin kiss at the altar. Jihoon, the best man, takes a hold of her hand not long after you and Jin walk back down the aisle together as husband and wife.

You spend your honeymoon in Europe, taking Jin to see all the places you lived in when you were away. You visit all the old restaurants where you worked, informing your former coworkers of the good news. They’re all happy and congratulate you, telling you that they miss you and that you should come back and visit often.

You finally move out of your tiny apartment into a spacious single family home with Jin and your new puppy. The three of you live there happily until you’re ready for kids. You have two of them, a boy and a girl, with whom you and Jin make sure to spend plenty of time in the kitchen, sharing all your favorite recipes and having quality family bonding time.

Even years later, Eat Jin is still wildly popular, though the clientele has changed to include patrons of all ages and social statuses. When you and Jin grow old, you pass the restaurant down to your children, and Eat Jin carries on for generations to come.

You look back at the time when you first came back to Seoul, when you first walked into Eat Jin. You think about how you hesitated at the time, and how you almost quit all those years ago. You’re glad you didn’t. You’re glad you stayed. And you’re glad you had the opportunity to build this beautiful life, and this beautiful legacy, with the man you love. With Jin.

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