Written for the @gabriel-monthly-challenge if you write and love Gabriel, please go and check the blog out! They have great prompts for this month!
GMC November Dialogue Prompt:“Stop saying you’d take a bullet for me. You’re immortal, it doesn’t count.” Warnings: SPN type violence. Words: 2,597
Part I - Part II (Coming Soon)
It’d been weeks since they came back into her life.
Still unable to completely remember their lives together, finding herself feeling safe and back home was more than enough to trust them entirely.
Rain fell heavily as she stepped outside the building. The sound of her heels tapping against the pavement as she walked towards the parking lot, gave her something to synchronize her breathing with, hoping to soothe the anxiety that was making her stomach sick.
Something was coming, and her heart was trying to tell her.
Summary: When Jensen loses his job, his wife uses her skills to go back to work. Jensen’s find with it, thinking he’ll just gets naps and TV time all day. Until he actually has to take care of the kids.
Warnings: Maybe minor suggestive stuff? Idk
AN: Here’s the winner of the voting! So Mr. Mom and Reality will be worked on side by side
Five times Arya cooked for Gendry + one time Gendry cooked for Arya
Life has that funny way of reminding you that you’re not in control. I had plans for myself. I was going to graduate from culinary school as this famous chef and then travel the world, but life decided to throw me a curve ball and remind me that I’m powerless. So, instead of traveling the world I find myself with two jobs and barely any time left to sleep.
The first job, which is my day job, is a waitress gig at a fancy Italian restaurant. Not my ideal choice, but I need the money. My second job, at night, is closer to my degree, but far from my dreams of traveling. I’m the chef for a billionaire tycoon. I wish I could say he was someone you could easily hate, but that’s far from being true.
Gendry Waters had earn his money the hard way, working his way from the ground up. He owned numerous business dealing with iron and metals. He had taken his skills and turned it into a billion dollar industry. I respected the hell out of him. He was a private man, staying out of the spotlight as much as possible. There wasn’t any heavy scandals with his name involved, yet he remained a total stranger to people, including the people who worked for him.
I pay the cab fare, as the man driving stares out at the mansion I work in. The kitchen is my fortress, and everyone knows to give me space as I work. Tonight’s menu is lamb with mint sauce, asparagus seared in butter, hot rolls and a glass of chardonnay. Mr. Waters has a set menu that he seldom strays from, which makes my life simple seeing as I’m sleep deprived and I don’t need to give much effort to the menu.
Mrs. Caldwell, my supervisor awaits my arrival with instructions for tonight’s dinner. As usual, Mr. Waters will be eating alone. He never has dinner guests, not that I’ve seen in the three months I’ve worked for him.
When I enter the dining room He’s already seated, his face hidden in a newspaper. I serve him the hot meal and stand off to the side against the wall in case he needs anything. These silent moments are my favorite, for I get to watch him without him being aware of it. He’s still wearing his three piece charcoal suit from work, looking like a Greek god. I see why he’s considered Westeros’ most eligible bachelor.
His hair is as dark as night, worn short in the back and long in the front. His bangs almost come to his eyelids and I watch him push the hair from his forehead several times. The few times we’ve made eye contact I’ve come face to face with a set of sea-blue beautiful eyes. His sleeves are rolled up giving me a clear view of sculpted arms. So, yeah, I have a crush on my boss.
My feet hurt. That’s all I can think as I enter Mr. Water’s home. I need rest, a vacation, but I know that’s never going to happen. My mind’s heavy tonight, but I don’t have time to think on all my problems. I need this job and it’s good pay, badly.
Tonight’s menu is spaghetti and meatballs. I had laughed the first time Mrs. Caldwell showed me the menu that he wanted. Spaghetti was the last thing I thought someone like Gendry Waters would want. He was country clubs and yachts. But I cooked him what he wanted, my grandmother’s special recipe.
He seemed to like it more than the lamb, and I’m caught off guard when he looks up at me. Our eyes meet and I stand a little taller, trying to ignore the screaming pain in my feet. He gives me one of his rare smiles and I feel my cheeks burn. He never speaks, not to me, but his smiles say the words his mouth doesn’t. Thank you for reminding me that I’m human, it says, just by serving me spaghetti. He’s as lonely as I am… his smile says that too.
I’m running late tonight and my head is pounding from the table of twenty I served at the restaurant. Old men taking more grabs at me than they should, their drinks of rum coming every five seconds seems like. I’m in a foul mood, and my cell ringing doesn’t help. I swear if it’s Mrs. Caldwell I’ll hang up on the woman with the first word. Yes, I know I’m late.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“Hello, Miss. Stark, this is Nancy Forrester.”
I freeze on the cold sidewalk as the world around me shifts. I forget the pain in my head immediately. The blood runs from my face, leaving me chilled. Something’s happened.
“Are you there?” she asked, concerned.
“Y—yes,” I answered, softly.
“There’s no easy way for me to say this, Miss Stark, but the money has run out. It’s time to think of other options. We can give you a few days, but by Saturday we need you to make other arrangements. We will help you any way we can.”
I’m feel lost and alone. I knew this day would come, but I thought with the two jobs I could stay ahead of this dreaded day.
“How much do I need to come up with?”
“Two thousand dollars, Miss Stark.”
The weight upon me becomes heavier, and as I hurry into the kitchen at Mr. Waters home I’m fighting back the tears. I can’t come up with that money by Saturday. I barely have six hundred in the bank. I don’t have a choice. I ignore Mrs. Caldwell’s beady eyes as I place the Lobster Bisk and cob salad on the plate and hurry out to the dining room. Wednesday’s are Mr. Water’s light days. Soup and salad. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s late or in a foul mood.
Five minutes after I place his food on the table, he enters mumbling under his breath about stupid investments. His tie hangs loosely at his neck and he digs right in. The more time that passes in silence the more I know what I need to do, but I’m scared to open my mouth. Mr. Waters can help me if he chooses. He’s really the only option I have, and I’ll do anything at this point.
I wait till he’s done and he looks up at me. There’s no smile tonight, but I press forward.
“I was wondering, sir, if you wouldn’t mind giving me an advancement on my check. I’ll pick up other chores around the house to pay you back quicker.”
He stares at me, surprised that I’ve spoken to him. For what seems like forever no word is spoken.
He nods his head, but let’s more minutes pass before answering. “And you need this advancement because?” he questions.
No one, not even my boss, knows my issues. I don’t want, nor need, anyone’s sympathy. I’ve made the decision to take on this burden, and until now I’ve needed no help. It’s the least I can do.
His eyebrows raise, “I see. I don’t give advancements. I’m sorry.”
With that, he stands from his chair and leaves me standing in shock. I feel hot tears in my eyes, but I blink them back. I’ve lost the only option I had in a matter of seconds.
I’ve picked up two extra shifts and talked to a loan officer, but all that gives me is fifteen hundred. I’m five hundred short. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours and all of the stress is making me sick. My hands shake as I place the ribeye steak next to the baked potato and broccoli on the plate. Mrs. Caldwell is watching me closely, but I ignore her.
I almost don’t make it to the table before dropping the plate. He’s there, his hands reaching out to steady me. I don’t make eye contact with him, but I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head as I take my place in the corner. I want to sleep for days and not wake up, but life doesn’t give me that option.
“What’s the advancement for?” he asked, making me jump in shock.
When I look at him, his blue eyes are intense. If I tell him the truth he’ll fire me. He will know my baggage and question my reliability. He’s never shown interest in me, so I hoped I could get the advancement no questions asked… I was wrong.
“I’m sorry I asked for the money, Mr. Waters. I don’t need it.” I barely got the words out. I need the money more than anything.
“Are you in some kind of trouble? And call me Gendry. My father was Mr. Waters.
“No, sir. Nothing like that, Mr—Gendry.”
“You’re not doing drugs? No gambling debt?”
I clenched my jaw, trying my best not to be pissed. He’s only trying to help, I tell myself.
“There’s nothing like that going on, I promise you.”
Mr. Waters… Gendry wiped his mouth with his napkin and stands. I think He’s going to leave it there, but he stops half way out the door and turns to me. “How can you expect me to help you if you don’t even trust me enough to tell me why.”
I’m left feeling worse about my situation as he storms out of the room.
I’ve searched every pocket of jeans, every hole and crack that money could fall in and I’m still four hundred-eighty five dollars short. I allowed myself two hours of sleep before my double at the restaurant and then Gendry’s. My last hope is my tips I could make tonight, though it’s been slow this past week.
When I walk in my manager is waiting at the door for me and signals for me to follow. I swallow the lump in my throat as I sit before his large desk.
“I’ve had to cut back, and I regret to tell you that you’re no longer needed here. You’ve served me well, Arya, but I need full time staff, not part time.”
I felt sick to my stomach, and I stood from the chair and left without a word. Before his door closed I heard him say my last check would be mailed to me in two weeks. I’m not down just a little anymore. I’m down the whole amount, for I needed that last check early. No check… no loan officer. I spend the rest of the day on the phone, calling around for another option to my problem. It’s not good.
When I finally entered Gendry’s kitchen my eyes were red and swollen, but it couldn’t be helped. I had come to the end of the line. Mrs. Caldwell scolded me twice when I burnt the chicken and had to start over. I wanted to throw the chicken in her face, but this was my last job… a last way to get money.
Finally, the Zuni Roast Chicken with Fennel Panzanella was finished and laid out for Gendry. I walked to my corner of the room and waited… and waited… and waited. The food I slaved over for two hours grew cold, yet the door never opened.
“He won’t be dining at home tonight, Miss Stark. He said to have his meal wrapped up and sent home with you,” said Mrs. Caldwell.
I didn’t want it, couldn’t eat it even if I did want it. I gathered the food and dumped it in the garbage bin outside. Any other day and I would have wanted to dump it on Gendry’s head for wasting the food, but not today.
I took a cab to the only place I knew I needed to be this late. It was after midnight, and usually they don’t allow visitors this late, but Kate is working. She always let’s me in. Sure enough, she pulls the door open and ushers me in, making sure no one saw me.
I enter a darkened room, but I know this room as well as I know my own bedroom. I’ve spent the majority of my time here for the past six months. This room is the reason I don’t sleep some nights. The person laying in the bed is the reason my burdens are so heavy.
“Hey, Sansa,” I whispered, knowing she’s not going to answer me. She hasn’t answered me for six months.
I reached out and took her hand in mine, laying my cheek upon her smooth skin. My older sister doesn’t respond to my touch. She’s all I’ve had since I was twelve. Our parents died in a car accident. She was seventeen when she took over my care. We had each other, and no one else. Now, our roles are reversed and it’s me taking care of her.
Or I was taking care of her. The insurance money we saved from our parent’s deaths has run out. There’s no money left, and I’m having to take her out of the care home she’s in, but I have no where to take her. Six month ago Sansa walked out of our apartment to go to the store and never came back. She suffered a brain aneurysm in the store and has been asleep ever since. There’s some brain activity but not much. One of the options they will discuss with me come morning is letting my sister go. I can’t do that. She’s all I have left.
I laid my head on her bed and allowed the tears to fall. It’s the only time, in the darkness, that I allow myself to feel hopeless and alone. No one can see my weakness.
“Please, Sansa. I don’t know what to do,” I cried, softly. “Come back to me.”
There’s no response. Just the silence and my soft sobs. Tomorrow will come soon, so for tonight I give in to my grief.
I come awake with a start to see Nancy Forrester standing in my sister’s room. I feel the dread consume me, knowing what’s about to happen. I have no answers to this problem.
“M—Mrs. Forrester. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. I came in last night to pack my sister’s things and fell asleep,” I said, not wanting to get Kate in trouble.
Mrs. Forrester looked at me, confusion in her features. “Are you moving your sister? But, I thought after you paid the entire year you were keeping her here.”
Her words took several moments to register in my mind. I couldn’t have heard her right. I opened and closed my mouth, not able to comprehend what was happening.
“W—What?” I said, my words choking me.
“We received your payment for the rest of the year. I was coming by to make sure your sister was comfortable and in good care.”
“That’s impossible,” I whispered, my vision blurred in tears.
She looked confused and laughed, as if uncomfortable. “I assure you there is no mistake. The person on the phone said he was a cousin of yours, said he would send money whenever it was needed, and that he wanted Sansa well taken care of.”
“He?” I said, and before she could finish I was on my feet and out of the door.
The fifteen minute ride to Gendry’s was the longest of my life. I laughed, smiled, cried… every emotion hit me at once.
I entered the house, realizing it was unlocked and no butler to meet me. I searched the house, every room, until I heard movement in the dining room. When I entered I noticed the dining table fixed up for two. The plates were laid out with wine glasses ready to be drank.
Gendry came from the side door connected to the kitchen with a large pot in his hand. When he saw me, he froze. He had his sleeves rolled up, sweat dripping from his brow. Had he been cooking?
“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” he said, hurrying to sit the pot on the table.
“Gendry,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Come and sit. We can talk after we eat.”
He pulled a chair out for me, and I sat down feeling like I’m in a dream. He poured us a glass of white wine. When he raised the top off the steaming pot, and I saw what was inside, I burst out laughing. All of these months I struggled with my sister and being alone came out of me in those few seconds. For the first time I sobbed in front of someone.
“Do You know why I ask for spaghetti on Tuesdays?” he asked, pointing to the hot spaghetti in front of me. I shook my head no. “My parents died on a Tuesday. They left me to grow up in an orphanage. The last memory I have of them is my mother in the kitchen making me spaghetti. Every Tuesday I visit their graves. It’s the hardest day of the week for me. When you cook this for me, it helps me to cope with the loss. Now, I want to help you the same way, so I slaved over this spaghetti and I pray it’s half as good as yours.”
I take a bite and am surprised at how good it really is. I look up and meet his kind blue eyes and smile. “Its delicious,” I whisper.
“Good. You eat while I talk, then. I did some research and found out about your sister. I hope you aren’t mad at the intrusion, but I worried. When I found out that they were releasing her everything made sense to me. I couldn’t let that happen. I paid for the entire year and have set up an account to keep your sister stable for as long as she needs it.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he doesn’t let me.
“Eat. Not on only that, but I’m flying in three experts in the field of brain trauma to look over your sister’s case. If there is a solution they will find it, but even if they don’t she will never want for anything. You will never have to worry for her.”
“But, why? Why are you doing this?” I ask, a tear slipping down my cheek.
“Because, you may not realize it but you take care of me, and I wanted to return the favor. And…”
He hesitates, unsure of himself. “And?” I ask.
“Since the moment you walked into my house three months ago I’ve tried to get up the nerve to tell you how you’ve captured me mind, body and soul. I didn’t help your sister for payment, but I couldn’t allow you to do this on your own. And… if you will allow me, I’d like to take care of you as well. I’d like to take you on a date, Miss Stark,” he says, his cheeks growing red.
I am up and out of my chair before I know what I’m doing. I wrap my arms around Gendry, feeling his heart beat as wildly as my own. His arms snake around my waste and hold me tightly. In that moment I let go of all of my baggage, all of my hurts and pains. It’s going to be okay now. I can finally say it’s going to be okay… and I say it over a pot of spaghetti. Maybe life does know better than me.
I'm Y/N, an Angel of the Lord. (TFW x Angel!Reader)
Summary: Y/N, angel of the Lord comes across three certain people…
So many years… So many years Y/N had been in this small town. It was somewhere in Wisconsin. To tell you the truth, she couldn’t even really remember how long she’d been there.
Currently she was waitressing the only diner in town. That’s what she had been doing for a very long time now. After leaving Heaven and being assigned to look after the people of this town, she had made it her number one priority to be sure to get to know everyone who lived there. Just about everyone who lived in that town came to the diner, so getting to know them was easy. To everyone else, she was just a regular person, or at least she looked like one. She even acted like one too since she had been there for so long.
Killua spent the day hunting and cooking for the big family dinner. “Okay chocolate waffles for kate,steak for lucy,cob salads for ruby and Stacie,soup for kim,large pork cutlets for lily and Vanessa,salmon for liza,cheese burger and fries for raven,tuna salad for max,chocolate for alex,and t bone steaks for the adults am i miss anything sophie?
You just can’t go wrong with sweet potatoes, corn on the cob and salad for dinner // I managed to get a 40 minute yoga session in today for the first time in a long time and it felt AMAZING. I’m going to have to organise my schedule properly before go back to study next week so that I can make sure that I fit in yoga, study and my bbg workouts around baby. Feeling a bit overwhelmed but I’m also feeling like I can do this 👊
As Stiles pushes open the door and steps
into the house, he has to resist the urge to yell “honey, I’m home!”, like he
does every time. Instead, he just calls out Derek’s name. There’s no answer.
Stiles steps further into the house, kicking of his shoes as he goes.
‘Derek?’ he calls out again.
‘I’m out back!’ Derek finally responds.
Stiles quickly walks through to the back
door. There, he comes to a stop. It still takes him by surprise sometimes how normal Derek can be. The man is standing
by the grill, wearing an apron over tan bermuda shorts and a white tank top,
flip flops on his feet. Derek turns to him with a bright smile.
‘I’ve got steak, corn on the cob, and
there’s potato salad on the table,’ Derek says, pointing to the table on the
Stiles tears his eyes away from the
happy, relaxed Derek to where the table is set. It looks cozy, with a striped
tablecloth, drinks already poured, and even some flowers in a little vase.
‘Corn’s almost done,’ Derek says,
seemingly oblivious to the fondness welling up in Stiles’ chest. ‘The steak
needs a little longer.’
‘Okay.’ Stiles has no idea what else to
say. He wishes he could bottle up this moment and take it with him everywhere,
to take it out whenever he feels sad, or when Derek feels sad.
‘Stiles, you okay?’ Derek is suddenly
right in front of him, pressing a hand to his forehead. ‘Your heart’s going
haywire. How long have you been out in the sun?’
Stiles bats his hands away.
‘I’m not having heatstroke. It’s just—‘
Stiles looks for the right words that don’t give too much away about his
feelings. ‘I just like seeing you happy.’
‘Oh.’ A faint blush colours Derek’s
cheeks. He smiles shyly up at Stiles from under his eyebrows. ‘Well, I am happy. The weather’s great. My date
showed up in time. We’re—‘
‘Date?’ Stiles squeaks out. This is a
date? How did he not know this was a date? Is this their first date? Please let
it be the first. When did Derek even ask him?
‘Yes, a date,’ Derek says. ‘And this is
our second date. The first date was the movies. Remember? I asked if you wanted
to go on a date the day before,’ he continues, because apparently Stiles just
said all of that out loud.
‘You used the word “date”?’ Stiles ask,
just to be sure.
‘Oh my g—‘ Stiles buries his face in his
hands. Of all the moments for his brain to go off track, it was when Derek
finally asked him out on a date.
‘You do want to date me, right?’ Derek
When Stiles looks up, he sees a look of
uncertainty on Derek’s face.
‘God yes,’ he says. He pulls Derek close
by the front of his apron. Derek smells like sunscreen and barbecue. ‘Can I
kiss you now? Because we have three days of kissing to make up for.’
‘Do you really think we’d have been
kissing for the entire three days?’ Derek asks sceptically.
‘Well, maybe not just kissing,’ Stiles
Derek raises his eyebrows in agreement,
then closes the distance between them.
Kissing Derek feels better than Stiles
could have ever imagined. Derek’s stubble makes the skin around his lips more
sensitive. Derek’s lips are soft, but move strongly against Stiles’ own. Derek
is a little taller, and Stiles keeps going over the pros and cons of standing
on his toes or tilting his head up. He chooses for standing on his toes so he
can wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and pull him even closer. A soft sigh
escapes Derek’s lips, and Stiles can feel it tingling all over his body.
Derek is the one to pull back first,
though he doesn’t look very pleased about it.
‘I have to watch the food.’
‘I’ll watch with you,’ Stiles says.
He follows Derek to the grill, then
wraps his arms around the man’s waist underneath the apron, presses himself
against Derek’s back, and makes himself at home.
Remember that time when I made the cob salad and everyone was like ‘Damn Jack! You’re cob salad is the best!’?. I remember, it was the day I finally realized I was good at making cob salads and then everyone came to my birthday party and said I was the best. I was only 10 at the time. I know what you’re thinking, a 10 year old making cob salad? That’s crazy! That’s nuts! There’s no nuts in a cob salad. Or is there? I don’t know 'cause I’ve never actually made cob salad. I was lying to you all this time. That was a lesson in not believing everything you hear. You know what I’m saying because I don’t anymore..
-sometimes you dont haveta wipe….sometimes a little wiggle is all it takes -shoot me with your love gun daddy -fist me daddy -STICKY BOMB - remember that time when i made the cob salad and everyone was like damn jack your cob salad is the best i remember it was the day that i finally realized i was good at making cob salads and then everyone came to my birthday party and said that i was the best i was only ten at the time i know what youre thinking a ten year old making cob salads thats crazy thats nuts theres no nuts in a cob salad or is there i don’t know cause ive never actually made a cob salad i was lying to you all this time that was a lesson in not believing everything you hear you know what I’m saying cause i don’t anymore