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jimlingss · 4 years

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Sugar and Coffee [22]

Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 22.5 OR Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

There’s quite a few things that you hate. You like to say you’re a somewhat well-mannered individual who wouldn’t use such a strong word, such as hate, to describe objects, people, and things in general. But there’s a number of things that just absolutely grind your gears. One of such examples are small spoons used to eat ice-cream or crème brûlée where you can never get a satisfying mouthful. And another is— “Fuck this yeast. Seriously.” “Hey, what did yeast ever do to you?” Jungkook laughs, finding your rage all the more amusing. “It won’t foam up.” You tap the measuring cup with a long sigh. Sure, the mixture is bubbling, but it’s nowhere near as good as you want it to be. “It’s been five minutes too.” “Did you put in sugar to feed it?” You scoff. “Who do you take me for?” You hate making bread, hate making laminated dough, hate anything that has to yeast. It’s just horrible to work with and you don’t understand how anyone can like bread in the first place. No one can eat bread on its own. It’s bland as hell. It’s boring. But aside from your personal vendetta, it just didn’t make sense — you and Jungkook have the same dry active yeast but when he proofs it, it’s perfect. You wonder if these tiny organisms hate you. “I hate yeast and bread and everything to do with it.” “Quit whining.” While Jungkook brushes past you, he taps your bottom. “Less complaining, more working.” “Easy for you to say.” Jungkook continues the recipe. He whisks together three tablespoons sugar, a tablespoon of salt, and three cups flour. In the meanwhile, you stand there, tapping your glass and wondering if you have to re-do the entire process. But then another thought comes into mind. And you slyly switch yours with Jungkook’s. “Whatever, we’ll see what happens.” You clear your throat, discreetly shifting past him to grab the salt. “Who knows, it might end up fermenting properly,” he says and a noncommittal sound is made at the back of your throat. Quickly, you make your dry mixture and pour the yeast in with some oil. It forms into a soft dough, bouncy to the touch, and just the right texture. At the same time, Jungkook returns to grab the yeast and immediately frowns. “What the fuck is wrong with my yeast.” He brings it up to eye level, frowning. You shrug. “Yeast is finicky. Was your water too hot when you poured it in? Might’ve killed it.” “But it was fine befor—” Jungkook’s voice halts. His eyes dim. He redirects his gaze towards you and deadpans, “You switched it, didn’t you?” “What?” You laugh. “No, I didn’t.” It’s frightening how he figured it out in an instant. You ponder just how much Jungkook can see right through you. “You took it, didn’t you?!” Your boyfriend playfully throws his arm around your neck and pins you under his armpit in a choke hold. You giggle, grabbing onto his forearm. “I didn’t!” “You’re still trying to lie to me now, brat? I expected better from you!” He laughs and you squeal. “Jungkook!” Finally, he lets go of you, but not before huffing out in frustration. You’re unable to recover when he ruffles your hair roughly, disheveling your entire head and sighing again. “Now I have to re-do mine.” You pout, watching him grab the container of dry active yeast. “I have to make sure my bread rises.” He smiles softly. “So now you admit stealing from me?” You dust off the flour from your hands and approach slowly. When the opportunity is right, you grab Jungkook’s arm and loll your head to one side, fluttering your lashes. “You wouldn’t be upset with your wonderful girlfriend, right, Kookie?” “Don’t try to act cute with me.” You lean against him. “I’m not. I just love you.” Jungkook scoffs, but a tiny smile still lifts on his features. The corner of his mouth is timidly quirked and you know you’ve won. The dough is kneaded until it’s elastic. Then the bowl is covered with a damp cloth and put in a warm place where it rises for an hour and a half. Afterwards, you punch the dough down on a lightly floured counter, shape it, and bake it in greased loaf pans. For hating everything yeast, you must admit that the smell of fresh bread filling the kitchen is mouthwatering. “It rose!” You peek through the oven in its last minutes, observing the way the crust is turning golden brown. “It looks so good.” Jungkook looks over your shoulder. “Not bad. We’re going to have to do it again though. Or at least you do.” “What?” The oven closes and you whirl around. “Why?” “You can’t use my yeast during our exams.” Your boyfriend’s expression is impassive and you open your mouth to retort, but end up closing it. There’s no way you can argue against that. “Ugh!” Your feet stamp childishly. “But I hate it!” He smirks and brushes past you. “Should’ve done it right in the first place.” “Shut up, Jeon.” The scent of bread baking in the oven only serves to mock you now. Jungkook tears his teeth into his bread, having lightly buttered it before eating. It’s still steaming hot and looks soft inside. You’re jealous, but also thankful when he stays around and watches you try a second batch all on your own without stealing any of his yeast. “Too much salt or sugar could slow down the yeast,” Jungkook says. “If the water is too hot, you’ll kill it. If it’s too cold, it won’t activate.” You sigh. “Why is it so difficult?” “It isn’t. Just keep trying. The best upcoming pâtisserie chef isn’t going to give up on something as simple as bread, right?” Your boyfriend smiles when he sees you can’t even feign a pout, that your mouth twitches at the compliment. Motivation flares through you. “That’s right.” You check water twice, ensuring that it’s the perfect amount of warmness and after you add the godforsaken yeast, you measure out sugar carefully. There’s little agitation before you set up a stool to watch it move. You pray these microbes will do your efforts justice, that they’ll release their carbon dioxide and ethanol, that they’ll bubble and ferment and make your dough rise later on. “Are you going to sit there and watch it?” “Shush,” you hiss at Jungkook as if the yeast could be scared to death. He smiles, plops a kiss at the top of your head and walks away to clean up his pans and bowls. In the meantime, you wait for five minutes, and then another two just to make sure. By then, it’s bubbling. “Is this good?” You bring it to Jungkook, not sure anymore. He peers inside the bowl. “Looks okay to me.” “Then I did it!” You throw yourself at him for a big hug and the yeast mixture nearly sloshes above the rim of the bowl onto the ground. “We can go now, right?” Jungkook snorts. “You still need to make the bread, sweetheart.” You pout. It’s such a pain. But it’s worth it when dough rises, the bread bakes perfectly in the oven, and Jungkook claps for you. When all is said and done, you feel lucky that Jungkook’s here for you, a personal cheerleader of sorts, always rooting you on. You didn’t know bread could taste so sweet.

“Jungkook.” “Hmm?” He’s nodding off, head rested in his palm, elbow on the counter, slumped on the stool. He’s trying hard to keep his eyes open, but he’s been dozing, hair flopping around as he tries to keep himself awake. It’s painful to watch him. “Go to bed.” “’t’s okay.” Jungkook straightens his spine and stretches above his head with a yawn. “I’ll wait for you.” “I’m not going to be done my cakes for a while. Just go back and sleep. Aren’t you tired?” “Only a little.” He slides off his stool anyway, oddly obedient when he can’t be bothered to put up a fight. Still, Jungkook comes over and you instantly know what he wants. He leans down, propping his chin on your shoulder, and you hug him as he folds over you. His body is nearly covering your entire frame like a blanket, but it’s warm and comfortable. “I wanted to wait for you,” he mumbles sleepily into your shoulder. “You’ll see me tomorrow, you big baby.” He makes a disgruntled noise, eyes shut, squeezing you before letting go. You smile at him. “Here.” And you help Jungkook undo his white apron. He turns around so you can undo the strings and once it’s free from his body, you haphazardly toss the apron on the counter. You press your hands against his cheeks so his mouth puckers and you place a brief kiss to his lips. “Okay, now go back and sleep.” “Okay.” Jungkook relents and retreats away, barely dragging his legs along. A soft smile finds its way on your face, but right when the door of the kitchen closes, your nose scrunches. There’s a smokey smell in the air. Immediately, you whirl around to where you’re working and a gasp rips from your lungs. Jungkook’s apron that you tossed, the one he once told you was precious and lucky to him, is caught on fire. The cloth is curling right on the stove, burnt off, red flames engulfing it. After a delayed second, you finally lurch forward and grab the edge of it to dump it in the sink. The smoke rises as you turn on the tap and you watch, completely stunned and speechless. “Shit. Shit!” // You’re at a loss of what to do. You’ve stuffed the dirty thing in your bag, went home and tried to recover it. But the white apron has a huge gaping hole right at the center and there’s nothing to be undone. You tried to read the tag too, to find the brand, to find where it was manufactured, but it’s been worn and faded. So you consult help. “Jimin, do you know where Jungkook’s apron is from? The one he usually wears.” “No idea,” the boy says and you’re flooded with complete disappointment. “Didn’t his grandpa give him that thing before he passed away? I think it’s why Jungkook started baking in the first place.” Blood drains from your face. You feel worse than you did before. Jimin notices the way your expression crumples, how you’re on the verge of tears and his eyes widen. “Are you okay?! What’s wrong?” “Don’t tell Jungkook….but...I…..I accidentally burnt his apron.” There’s a quiet pause. “Oh shit.” “What do I do, Jimin?” Guilt and remorse eats you whole, chewing and spitting you out to leave you nude and mortified. “I just took it off of him and threw it on the counter. I didn’t know it would land by the stove!” “You can’t read the tag?” When you shake your head, the boy sighs and his voice softens in sympathy you don’t want. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t be upset with you, Y/N. It was an accident.” But you can’t come clean with him. You can’t bear seeing Jungkook’s disappointed face. The inevitable expression that’ll arrive if you tell him you destroyed a precious belonging. If you tell him you ruined his late grandpa’s last gift. If you tell him you wrecked what started him on this journey. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen something like this before.” Aeri holds it up, studying the pathetic piece of cloth in the light and ignoring the giant hole in the center. She’s the next person you turn to and perhaps your last one. Yoongi would just laugh in your face and call you an idiot. Taehyung can’t keep a secret for his life. And Hoseok has more than enough on his plate than to deal with your antics. Jimin and Aeri are the ones who are understanding and kind enough to actually help you in your dumb crisis. “Have you tried searching online?” “I found one similar on amazon but it’s not the same. The pockets are placed differently. He’ll know.” “Doesn’t Jungkook have the standard one from school?” “It’s...not the same.” You exhale in defeat and fall back onto her bed. You cover your face with your hands to shield away the sunlight that comes through the windows. The nice, autumn weather felt like it was mocking you. “What should I do? What if Jungkook breaks up with me over it? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” The girl laughs. “He wouldn’t. Jungkook’s not that kind of person. I’m sure if you just told him, everything will be okay, Y/N.” That’s what everyone reassures, and in the back of your mind, you know he can’t be upset with you for that long. But Jungkook trusted you with a personal belonging of his — something so special and you burnt it to a crisp. You feel guilty. There’s no amount of apologies that can bring the apron back to how it was. You’ve ruined it like how you ruin everything else in your life. // “Hey, have you seen my apron?” Jungkook’s digging into his belongings a few days later, having searched his locker and is now looking into his drawers and into his closet. You swallow hard, knowing that this was imminent. “N-nope.” “Weird. I swear I had it here….” You glance at your backpack. There’s a new apron that you bought, had it shipped to you in a day’s time. You picked the nicest gift bag to put it in too, but you haven’t had the courage to confront him about it. You wonder what Jungkook would do if he decided to end the relationship over this. Maybe he’ll cite that he’s done with your shit, that you’re irresponsible and too clingy. That you’re too emotional, how he can’t trust you with anything, and perhaps he'll say he needs space. You’ll survive — you know that much. You’ve been through enough in your life to know you’ll make it out, but surviving is not the same thing as living. Jungkook’s become such a big part of your life — your boyfriend, partner in crime, best friend — you don’t know if you’ll ever be ready to be without him. You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone else before. “What’s the matter?” Jungkook’s suddenly squeezing your face together, the cheesiest grin painted across his own visage. “I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes. Are you thinking about someone else when you’re with your boyfriend?” You blink at him, eyes becoming glossy. Jungkook’s confusion takes over when you don’t make any snarky comebacks, when he realizes you’re not in the mood to joke around. He slowly lowers his grip and sits down on the edge of his bead, concern taking hold. “Is everything okay?” Your breath staggers out from your mouth. “Don’t be mad.” His brows furrow deep. “What’s wrong?” You open your mouth, but realize that you can’t say it. So you lean down and grab the gift bag from your backpack. You hand it to him and he takes it in his bewilderment, peeking inside. You tear your eyes away. You can’t bear to see his face. “I’m sorry. Really. I am, Jungkook. The….the other day when I took off your apron, I threw it on the counter without looking and it caught on fire. I was trying to look for another one, but I don’t know where it’s from and I know it’s special to you, and I’m so sorry.” There’s silence. Then the noise of his chuckling. You lift your head and you’re instantaneously engulfed into Jungkook’s arms, hugged by him. “I love it, thank you.” You’re stunned — and it takes a moment for you to snap back to reality. “You’re not mad at me?” “No.” Jungkook scoffs lightly and pulls away with a grin. “I was wondering why you’ve been so quiet the entire day. I was more worried than anything. You didn’t get burnt, did you?” “No.” “Good. Then that’s all that matters.” He’s humming happily, unfolding the new apron and pushing out the folded wrinkles. Then Jungkook stands up while holding it out on his body, checking how it looks in the mirror. You can’t comprehend how he can be so forgiving. “Wasn’t the other one from your grandpa? You started baking because of him, right?” “Kind of. He cooked a lot and told me I should find something I love to do and make it my job. It was a bit of a whim.” The boy turns around, doe eyes twinkling. “But that old man gave me a whole box of stuff, not just the apron. And honestly, it was kind of getting old and worn, so I’m glad I have a new one now — plus it’s from my amazing girlfriend, so how can I not love it?” It takes three seconds. Three seconds and then you burst out crying. You’re not sure exactly why and it causes Jungkook to be alarmed. He tries to comfort you, but he’s obviously uncomfortable as he pats your back and caresses your hair awkwardly. It’s only when you’ve calmed down a bit where he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and asks if it was something he said. When you tell him you’re not quite sure, the next question he asks is if you’re on your period — and you almost slap him. The pair of you don’t talk about your meltdown again, but in the middle of the night while you’re still awake, you’re finally able to pinpoint your emotion. It wasn’t that you were afraid of Jungkook being angry or breaking up with you — you were afraid of disappointing him, of breaking his heart, of hurting him. You know anyone else in your life would’ve been let down. But not Jungkook. And for that, you feel relieved, reassured, comforted. You feel fortunate that he loves you, and most of all, you realize just how much you cherish the boy named Jeon Jungkook.

In the middle of your bread and viennoiserie class, while your floured hands are folding laminated dough, Taehyung looks up from the counter with a sudden question. “What kind of wedding cake do you guys want?” “The hell did that come from,” Yoongi grunts beside him, his beloved silence now broken. “Well I was just thinking salami and prosciutto would be so delicious with bread, because I love myself some deli meats and there’s this super cute girl at the deli I go to, but I’m pretty sure she has a boyfriend. Anyway, I started to remember the cakes they had on display at the bakery section and there was a funfetti one with a cartoon rabbit on it that looked a lot like Jungkook.” “What?” Taehyung keeps rambling, literally thinking out loud, “Then I realized he and Y/N are probably gonna get married someday, and I wondered if I was going to be a groomsman at the wedding and what kind of cake they were going to have, so yeah. What kind of cake do you guys want?” Yoongi's expression is disconcerting as if he’s wondering how Taehyung lives peacefully with a brain like his. “Do you ever get tired being yourself?” “Hey, you asked.” The tall brunette is unbothered by the insult and turns to the two of you for an answer. “What kind of wedding cake are you guys going to have?” Your mind is reeling. Getting married to Jungkook seems so far away from now. The pair of you are barely in your twenties, and you’re not particularly inclined to get hitched so young. But in terms of cake — your own specialty — you’ve had one in mind since the beginning of time. “Well obviously, we’re going to have chocolate.” — “Fresh strawberries and cream.” You and Jungkook both answer at the same time over top each other. Your heads turn, eyes meeting, stares connected. “Of course we’re going to have chocolate.” “Aren’t you sick of it? I make chocolate for you all the time,” Jungkook argues. “And you eat some every other day.” “I could never get sick of chocolate.” You frown. “Since when did you like fresh strawberries and cream?” “Always.” He shrugs. “And when we worked at Kim's cakes, that flavour always tasted the best to me. It’s fresh, but still sweet. I think everyone would like it. It’s versatile.” “Yeah, but what matters is that we like it.” “I like it.” “Yeah, but I think chocolate is just more fitting for us.” Yoongi sighs, looking over at Taehyung. “Here they go again.” “What?” You direct your attention to the sleepy man, a sharp bite to your words. “What do you mean ‘here we go again’?” Taehyung’s eyes widen and he begins to slide away from the counter, not wanting to be in the face of your wrath. Yoongi, on the other hand, has never been intimidated by you in the least bit. “The both of you are always fighting.” You glance at your boyfriend. “No, we’re not.” “First it was about cookie dough and then pineapple on pizza, soufflés and now this.” Yoongi spits straight up facts without sugar coating it and you’re left stumped. You didn’t realize how it looked to outsiders. You know there’s never animosity between you and Jungkook — it’s just debates, but you suppose the arguments happen frequently. You stare at Jungkook and he smiles tenderly at you. The man turns back towards his friends. “I like getting Y/N riled up. Isn’t it fun to watch her?” “Excuse me?” you scoff, not expecting that kind of response. “Ugh.” But Taehyung takes his words in a completely different meaning and his face scrunches. “So this is a kink you guys get off on? Making other people suffer by listening to your bickering?” Jungkook doesn’t say anything and merely wiggles his brows. It makes your face hot and Yoongi appears disgusted as well next to his baking partner. Your boyfriend looks off at you. “How about chocolate strawberry cake then? We can have chocolate cake layers and alternate between cream and ganache in between. We can frost it in strawberry buttercream with strawberry roses as decoration — and of course, a pile of chocolate strawberries as the topper.” You grin at him, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “Brilliant. As usual.” “Ugh.” Taehyung groans even louder. “Nevermind. Go back to hating each other. I can’t handle you two being sappy and gross.” “Well get used to it,” you tell him proudly while Jungkook drapes an arm over your shoulder, approving your message. It’s only when the teacher brushes past all four of you and reminds all of you to continue kneading your dough do you remember that you’re in class with everyone eavesdropping in. But you don’t mind shamelessly flaunting your relationship with Jungkook — you’re proud of him and of loving him. // It’s later that night when you’re snuggling while watching some show playing on his laptop, that you verbalize some doubts that Taehyung’s snuck into your mind. “Do you think we argue too much?” “What?” Jungkook turns his head. “Not really. I like arguing with you — well, not in any way that makes any of us upset or anything, but I like our heated debates. Why? Don’t you?” “I do,” you hum. “I was worried you didn’t. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m always picking fights with you.” He laughs and the sound is melodic to your ears. Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, making sure he’s holding you close. “You are. But I don’t mind. We don’t need to agree on everything to be together.” You lean into his warmth and a content sigh escapes your lips. Of all the things that you disagree with Jungkook on, you think he would agree that the both of you cherish being with one another. Future wedding or not, you want to savour every moment and all the antics you have together. That’s all that really matters.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #btsboulangerie #jungkook x reader #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #sugar and coffee #ONE MORE CHAPTER GUYSSSS

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hotpinkhoshi · 4 years

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the pact | epilogue

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), pure sugary sweet FLUFF

word count: 5.4k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: wow, you have no idea just how excited i am to finally post this! i can’t believe it’s finally over, and i just want to thank you guys so much for how sweet you’ve been to me along the way. i really hope you all enjoy the epilogue, please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think about the ending!

a special thanks to kat @listlessmaenads and nik @jinyoungmoans for making sure this doesn’t suck 😘

↳ index here

It turned out, Jinyoung was a pretty great boyfriend.

He showed his love every day, often not through words but through his actions. He texted you first thing in the morning, wishing you a good day at work because he woke up at dawn for his workout—like a crazy person.

He called you on his lunch breaks if he couldn’t visit you at the store, and even surprised you with takeout from your favorite restaurant on one particularly rough day.

He was a true gentleman.

Too much of a gentleman, to be frank.

You’d gone on three dates already, and each and every one of them had ended with an innocent kiss at your door. Nothing more. It was driving you insane.

The closest you’d gotten had been your third and most recent date, when you’d gone for ice cream and a movie. During the movie, he had kissed you breathless, despite the film playing on the screen in front of you. But as soon as you’d lifted the arm rest to climb onto his lap, he’d pulled away from your eager lips.

“Not here,” he’d whispered to you, leading you to believe maybe, he’d want to come inside when he walked you to your door. Yet that night had ended like all of the others.

But tonight—you would make sure tonight was different.

Jinyoung invited you over so that he could make dinner for you, and to you, this seemed like the perfect chance.

You knew he wanted you, and he was just being polite, but you needed him. It wasn’t the sex you missed, not completely at least. You missed the intimacy. Being close to him, as close as two people could be, stealing each other’s breath, skin to skin.

You’d worn a dress you knew he’d like. Not particularly short or revealing, but snug in all the right places. You wanted to remind him of what was underneath the fabric, all of the skin that was his to kiss and worship. Your hair was pulled up, revealing the back of your neck, a spot he loved to kiss.

Whatever game he was playing, it would end tonight. You’d make sure of it.

You clutched the baking pan in your fingers as you waited for Jinyoung to answer the door, fingers tapping impatiently against the glass.

He only made you wait a few more seconds before he was opening the door, a sweet smile on his lips until he took in your appearance. His smile faltered, eyes raking down your frame until they filled with a darkness you’d been craving.

“Hi,” you said innocently, extending your arms to offer him the dish in your hands. “I made dessert.”

Jinyoung coughed, eyes shooting up from your exposed thighs to your face. “Dessert? Uh…” he blinked a few times, then seemed to snap himself out of it enough to form coherent words. “Great. Good. Come in.”

Taking the pan from you, he welcomed you into his apartment. You could practically feel the heat coming from his gaze as you bent down to unfasten the straps of your heels so that you could slip your shoes off.

“What did you make? It smells amazing,” you said, straightening up and turning towards him. Jinyoung was clutching the baking dish so tightly his knuckles were going white.

“Carbonara. What’s… what’s this?” he asked.

“Banana bread,” you answered.

You’d dedicated the whole day to finding the best recipe, one that you could follow without too much difficulty, and hopefully not screw up. You hadn’t been able to taste test it, but it had smelled good while it was baking, and you figured that was a good sign.

Jinyoung’s lips lifted into a smile, no doubt remembering the disastrous assignment from high school that had ended up hard as a rock and nearly caused you to fail the class.

“I’m impressed,” he replied. “Come on, it’s ready now.”

Over the next few minutes, Jinyoung visibly relaxed, less focused on your curves in your dress and more on the act of serving you dinner and pouring the wine.

It was so similar, yet so different to the first time Jinyoung had invited you over for a meal. At the time, you’d come over for the sex, but ended up having a really great meal and even better conversations.

He’d gone as far as to light a candle at the table and set some roses in a vase. Simple as it seemed, it was a level of effort you’d never received from any other man. And the food was incredible, too.

“You need to teach me how to cook,” you told him. “It’s not fair.”

Jinyoung chuckled, reaching up to wipe a drop of sauce off of your chin. “I can do that. Even though this really isn’t that complicated…”

“Oh, trust me, I’d find a way to ruin it,” you admitted, finishing up your last bite. “But I want to be able to make something delicious for you.”

“You’re delicious enough on your own, babe,” Jinyoung replied, though the look on his face told you he knew just how cringeworthy it was before the statement even left his mouth.

You winced, inhaling through your teeth. “Yikes.”

“I’m so sorry. It just came out,” he said, and you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Well,” you started, wiping at the corners of your mouth with your napkin. “At least I know you’re just as smooth as you’ve always been.”

Jinyoung’s face turned into an expression of mock offense. “Hey, I’m very smooth. In fact, I’ve been saving all of my most romantic moves just for you. Exhibit A,” he said, gesturing to the candlelit dinner in front of you.

You couldn’t help but to snort, though you conceded with a nod. “You’re right. This is really nice. Is there an exhibit B?” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Licking his lips, Jinyoung shrugged. “Maybe. But first, we need to try your dessert,” he suggested, though when he stood to clear your plates he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips that took all the air from your lungs.

Half of you wanted to say screw it, grab him and drag him back to the bedroom. But that wouldn’t be very romantic, and you did want this to be special. Finally, after all this time, you were both on the same page and could show each other how you truly felt.

“Here we are,” Jinyoung began, setting the baking dish on the table and peeling back the foil. “Do you want the first taste, or should I do the honors?”

“You try it. I’m too nervous,” you replied.

Your boyfriend laughed, placing a small slice on his plate and digging in with his fork. You watched with wide eyes as he brought a bite to his mouth, his expression completely unreadable as he chewed.

“Is it okay?!” you asked nervously.

Finally, he cracked a smile and nodded as he swallowed. “It’s really good.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” he hummed, “try it yourself.”

Jinyoung broke off a small piece with his fingers, reaching across to feed it to you. You took his wrist in your hands, letting him place the bread between your lips.

You couldn’t help it. Instead of letting him pull away after you chewed, you held his hand right where it was and wrapped your lips around his index finger, taking it into the wet warmth of your mouth.

Watching Jinyoung’s eyes, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked at his digit as it rested on your tongue. There was a hitch in his breath just before he slid his finger deeper inside of your mouth, only for a moment. Then he removed it with a pop.

“Yum,” you said, licking your lips.

Jinyoung only let you take one breath before he was in front of you, lifting you to stand so that he could collide his lips with yours. You whimpered at the rough pressure but within a moment, you were clawing at the buttons on his dress shirt, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips.

His hands roamed your body, sliding along your back until he was grabbing at the soft curves of your hips to bring you against him. You worked at the buttons of his shirt, yanking the fabric apart until you could push the garment off of his shoulders.

As you parted from Jinyoung for a gasp of air, he wasted no time, diving in to kiss and suck at the tender flesh of your neck. You groaned, fingernails dragging down the front of his chest.

“Jinyoung.” Your entire body was igniting under his touch, a fact that came as no surprise to you. It had been so long now, you weren’t above begging for him to finally give you the physical attention that you needed. “Please, please.”

Jinyoung pulled back from your neck, staring down at you as he held your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Please what, baby?”

“I need you,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “I can’t wait anymore.”

The way he smirked down at you sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Need was becoming an understatement. Your hands traveled across his chest and up along his neck until your fingers could push through his hair, gripping onto the strands to pull him down for another kiss.

You didn’t need words. Jinyoung got the message, reaching down to lift your legs around his waist, turning to carry you back towards the bedroom. He stopped at the nearest wall, pressing your hips into the surface with his own.

The length of him pressed into your thigh, showing you that he was already hard and ready for you—you wondered how long he’d been thinking about picking you up and stealing you away to the bedroom.

You moaned into the kiss as Jinyoung began to grind his hips into yours, the thin lacy underwear you’d worn was almost like you were wearing nothing at all, making the contact all the more torturous.

Then Jinyoung was carrying you the rest of the way to his bedroom, kicking the door open and not bothering to close it behind him. He set you down, breaking the kiss in the process.

His hands immediately worked to slide the zipper of your tight dress down, letting the fabric fall away to leave you in the barely-there undergarments.

“Fuck.”

Your cheeks reddened at his reaction, but you regained control within a second. “Sit on the bed,” you told him, eyes traveling down his bare upper body to the bulge in his pants.

Jinyoung took a few steps backwards until his knees hit the bed, then he lowered to sit upon the edge. Leaning back on his palms, he stared up at you with so much lust, it felt like he was the one with the upper hand.

“Gonna make you feel good,” you said, closing the distance and kneeling in front of him.

Jinyoung reached out, brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “You always do, baby.”

You licked your lips as you undid his belt, then his pants. You tugged at the waistband until Jinyoung got the hint, lifting his hips so that you could remove his pants. Once he was left in just his boxer briefs, you scooted even closer.

All the times he’d laid you down and driven you crazy with his mouth, you wanted to repay the favor. He deserved it. It wasn’t like you never went down on him, but it was normally only for a few minutes before he was dragging you back up his body to slip inside of you. Besides, it had been so long now, you’d missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth.

“Jinyoung,” you whispered as you stared up at him, hands traveling from his knees to his thighs. Strong, corded with muscle he worked so hard for during those early morning gym sessions.

“Yeah, angel?” he replied, tongue wetting his lower lip.

“You love me, right?” you asked him with a deceivingly innocent smile, lifting up onto your knees to press a kiss to his lips.

Jinyoung nodded, plush lips soft against yours. “More than anything.”

“Good,” you breathed, resting back on your heels. “But I want you to fuck my mouth like you hate me, okay?”

Jinyoung nearly choked on air, eyes widening down at you before he composed himself. He nodded, corner of his lips raising into a smirk.

“Let your hair down. I’m going to need something to hold onto.”

You obeyed, undoing the bun you’d tied at the top of your head to let your hair fall to your shoulders. Your fingers tucked into the waistband of his underwear, sliding it down until his cock was freed from the fabric.

He was hard already, a sight that made you squeeze your thighs together. There were many things you’d missed in these last months, but Jinyoung hard and naked was at the top of the list.

You decided to start slow. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, ducking your head down to take the tip into your mouth. Eyes never leaving Jinyoung’s.

Slowly, torturously so, you lowered your head until you’d taken about half of his length, feeling the tip of him bump against the back of your throat.

Jinyoung kept his cool, as always, eyes boring into yours as you worked at him. It took a couple of minutes for you to get used to the feeling, the movement, the rhythm that you knew he liked. But his chest started to rise and fall just a little bit faster, and you knew his hands were itching to grab onto your hair.

On the next stroke of your mouth, Jinyoung’s hips bucked up, enough to make you gag. Then again, again, and again. The room filled with the sound of Jinyoung’s groans and sharp intakes of air, mixed with the obscene noise each time his cock met the resistance at the back of your throat.

So much for wanting this to be romantic.

You felt saliva drip out of the corner of your mouth to your chin but made no effort to wipe it away. He loved you like this—sloppy and desperate. Your clit was throbbing and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

Then Jinyoung was standing, hand on the back of your head to keep his cock in your mouth. He twisted his fingers in your hair, holding tight as he guided your mouth to take him deeper.

“That’s it,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “More? You want more?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears that formed at the corners of your eyes. His cock hit the back of your throat again but you relaxed, as much as you could, to let him slip past your gag reflex.

“Jesus, your fucking mouth.”

Jinyoung held you there for a moment, even as you coughed around him and your hands gripped his thighs because you needed something to hold onto. He began thrusting into your mouth, hardly giving you a moment to breathe.

“Such a good girl, taking me in so deep, getting all wet and messy for me…”

You moaned around him, despite the physical discomfort you felt from the way he was using your mouth. You loved it just as much as he did, no matter how tight your chest got or how sore your jaw felt.

Finally, he yanked at your hair, pulling you off of him. Within a second, he was bending down to slot his lips against yours and helping you stand in front of him. His hands traveled down your body, squeezing and groping at your flesh.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, eyes taking in your frame. You felt goosebumps all over your body from the fire in his gaze, a look you never got used to. “Undress for me, baby.”

It was an internal battle not to blush as your boyfriend stared at you, brown eyes following the trail of your hands down your own body, your fingertips forging a path to the waistband of your panties. You slid them down your legs and stepped out of them, holding his eyes as you unhooked your bra and let the lace fall to the floor.

Jinyoung took a step closer, resuming your passionate kiss. You could never get enough of his lips, the way they fit perfectly with yours. It was funny to think how polite he’d been the first time you’d kissed; now, he wasted no time sucking at your tongue and nipping at your lower lip.

His thumbs wiped at your cheeks and chin tenderly, cleaning up the mess you’d made. Walking you back to the bed, Jinyoung only parted from you enough to motion for you to lay back on the bed.

You did as he asked, crawling over the mattress until you laid with your head at the pillows. Jinyoung was above you within seconds, mouth attaching to your neck and hips pinning you to the bed.

“You’re- god, you’re so hard. Please,” you begged, sliding your hands up his back. “I need you inside.”

“Not yet,” he whispered, pulling away to gaze down at you. His hand traveled from your neck down between your breasts, a light touch that set you on fire. He sat back onto his knees, one hand nudging your legs apart.

Jinyoung stared hungrily at the sight of your glistening core spread out for him. There was no doubt you were wet enough for him to slip in easily, but it came as no surprise that he wanted to feel it for himself.

“So wet just from sucking my cock, aren’t you baby?” One finger slid down your center, ghosting over your clit, the one place you needed him most.

You whined, hips bucking up towards his touch. As he swirled two fingers in the arousal that had gathered at your entrance, a moan fell from your lips, earning you a cocky grin.

When his touch left you all together, you furrowed your eyebrows, ready to complain. Until Jinyoung was pressing his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.

Only a moment passed before you relaxed, flattening your tongue to wrap your lips around his fingers. His eyes darkened even more, watching the way you circled your tongue around his fingers, eager to taste your own sweetness.

Finally, when he was sure his fingers were clean and covered with your saliva, he removed them from your mouth. He didn’t waste any time, pushing both digits into your entrance.

“Oh-” you sighed, eyes falling shut.

“Feels good?” he asked, adjusting himself so he could lay on his side next to you. He began a gentle pace inside of you, with his thumb rubbing figure eights into your clit.

“Mm-hmmm,” you hummed.

Jinyoung knew everything about your body by now. He was perceptive like that. He arched his fingers in just the right way to hit that spot inside of you, the one that sent shockwaves through your whole body.

You whimpered. “Jinyoung…” you breathed, feeling around until you could grip onto his forearm.

He didn’t stop or let up. If anything, his pace became more intense, unrelenting as he drove into you. His lips were under your ear, kissing the sensitive skin and whispering words of praise.

“So sweet, fuck, you feel amazing. Gotta open you up for me, love. You’re so tight,” he told you, adding a third finger as if to prove his point.

“Ah,” you gasped, back arched slightly off of the bed for a moment, until you grew used to the width of his three fingers.

“You wanna come like this?” Jinyoung asked, lips now pressed to your cheek. The only sound in the room was the wet, slick noise of his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathless praises of his name.

Shaking your head, you squeezed his arm. “N-no,” you breathed, “I want to come with you inside.”

“Good girl,” he praised, angling to kiss your lips, his fingers slipping out of you to leave you empty. Another mewl of complaint fell from your lips at the lack of contact.

Jinyoung sat up to push his boxer briefs down and kicked them off, before settling back on top of you, forehead pressed into yours. He was all around you now, nothing left to separate your bodies.

“Missed this,” you whispered, tilting your chin up until you could brush your lips against his. You parted your legs, bent at the knee to rest alongside his hips.

A silent question in his eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance. You nodded, pressing your fingers into his back. Both of you sighed as he slid inside, filling you up just the way you needed.

Jinyoung began a slow pace, hips rocking deliciously into yours. He buried his face into your neck and groaned, movements controlled to a point that you knew it was taking a great deal of effort not to pound into you.

Your hands were all over him, nails grazing down his back until you were pressing into his ass, pulling him deeper inside of your heat. Desperation filled you as he thrusted into you, never feeling like you could get him close enough.

“Jinyoung,” you moaned, nails digging into his skin. “Kiss me.”

He pulled his face from your neck and gave you what you wanted, kissing you slow and deep. He swallowed your moans and brought a hand to the side of your face, pushing your hair out of your face.

Jinyoung whispered your name against your lips, over and over. Broken sentences fell from your own lips, finding it hard to think straight while he was fucking you this deep, a bruising intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“Oh,” you sighed, your hands sliding back up his body to nestle into his hair. “Jinyoung, love y- oh, fuck. I can’t- God. Please.”

Jinyoung nipped at your lip, pulling back enough to duck his head down, taking one nipple into his mouth. You gasped at the sensation of his tongue rolling around the bud, knowing it was enough to send you over the edge if he continued.

Dropping to hover over you on one elbow, his free hand reached for your leg to hook around his waist, angling you just right for him. His lips continued their work on your breast, releasing your nipple from his mouth to suck a hickey into the skin just above. Well, that would keep you from wearing low cut tops for a week or so.

You fisted his hair and arched your back, encouraging him to continue. Never one to give you what you want so easily, Jinyoung pulled away as soon as he was sure he’d marked you properly. After kissing the quickly forming bruise, he was gazing down at you again.

You groaned when he raised up enough to wrap his arm around your lifted knee, bringing it to drape over his shoulder. It was a stretch in your leg that hurt, but it was good, the pleasure of his length hitting your g-spot more than enough to overpower the pain.

Jinyoung built up his pace as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, hips fucking you almost mercilessly now. He was close, you could feel it in the way he was losing control, eyes wild as he stared down at you.

“I’m-” you started, dropping your hands from his hair to grip the sheets underneath of you. “I’m almost there. I need…” you began, but Jinyoung finished for you when the hand gripping your thigh dipped down between your bodies.

“Come on baby,” he encouraged, pad of his thumb massaging your clit now. “Be a good girl for me, yeah? Let me see you come for me. Let me feel you squeeze around me.”

“Ah… I…” you trailed off, eyes practically rolling back as you felt the waves of pleasure start to crest, so close to your peak. “Jinyoung.”

It only took a few more thrusts until you were tumbling over the edge. You covered your mouth instinctively, though your hand was only there for a moment before Jinyoung was grabbing it to pin above your head. He wanted you loud.

He got what he wanted. You cried out, back of your head digging into the pillow as your whole body trembled, core pulsing around him with each wave of bliss. He didn’t stop, knowing you needed him to fuck you through it.

Your body was still twitching with the aftershocks when Jinyoung came. He buried his head into your neck, releasing inside of you with a deep, low groan against your skin. You gasped at the sensation of his cum filling you up, hot pulses that seemed never-ending.

“Love you,” he whispered as his body began to relax and he came down from his intense climax.

You turned your head until your lips found his, kissing him with all of the energy you could possibly muster up. It wasn’t much, though. He’d tired you out.

“I love you too,” you replied against his lips. When you pulled back for air, you looked up into his eyes and couldn’t help the smitten smile that formed. “God. I love you so much.”

Jinyoung pressed another kiss to your lips, chaste this time, then once more against your forehead. You shivered as he withdrew from you, suddenly feeling cold as soon as his body left yours.

“I’ll be right back,” he told you even as you whined, grabby hands reaching for him. “Two minutes. Just give me two minutes,” he laughed.

While Jinyoung went out to grab a towel to clean you up, you rolled over and got yourself comfortable under the covers. If he wasn’t planning on cuddling, you were going to be sorely disappointed.

All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms for, well, the rest of eternity if possible. Jobs and responsibilities be damned.

Jinyoung returned shortly with a damp, warm towel over his shoulder and a bottle of water in his hand. He set the glass on the nightstand, crawling underneath the covers.

You couldn’t help distracting him as he cleaned you up, kissing his shoulder, his chest, his throat, whatever expanse of skin you could get your lips on. He complained, pretending like it bothered him but you knew it was quite the opposite.

When you felt like you were sufficiently less sticky, you took the washcloth out of his hands and tossed it to the floor behind him. You silenced his protest with a kiss, wrapping your body around his like a monkey.

“Gah,” he said against your lips, “So needy.”

“Mm,” you agreed, dragging your lips across his cheek to his jaw. “Yes, I am. And I’m not ashamed.”

Jinyoung laughed as you assaulted him with kisses, your hair tickling his chin when you nuzzled into his neck.

Finally he relented and wrapped his arms around you, letting your limbs get tangled up and your bodies to press together without any barrier. You honestly couldn’t imagine a better feeling than being completely surrounded by Jinyoung, enough to feel his heart beat pulse against your skin.

You settled into comfortable silence as he held you, hands stroking patterns up and down your back that sent goosebumps all over. No, there was nothing better than this, you decided. This was your own personal heaven.

“Y/N,” he whispered after a few more minutes, just as your breathing slowed and you were almost lulled to sleep. “How about a shower? As much as I love this…”

“Yeah. We’re a little sticky,” you agreed with a laugh, finally peeling your body away from his.

Jinyoung got off the bed first, reaching his hand out to help you stand.

“Ooh,” you gasped as your knees wobbled, nearly giving out once your feet hit the floor. Jinyoung caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist securely.

“Whoa there,” he said with a laugh, kissing the side of your face. “Okay, so maybe a bath instead?”

You nodded in agreement, blushing until he picked you up, a tiny yelp of surprise falling from your lips.

“Show off,” you teased, slipping your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bathroom.

“You love me, though,” he countered, patting your bare ass playfully.

Tucking your head into his neck, you nodded after a moment, smiling so wide that it hurt your cheeks. In that moment, you knew that you’d made the right choice. You were happy, finally, just truly happy.

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~

Two Years Later

It was a beautiful venue. More than enough space to contain the one hundred guests on the invite list.

The ceremony was held in the back garden, sweet smelling flowers surrounding the rows of chairs that sat in front of the arch for the bride and groom.

There was hardly a dry eye in sight during the vows, even BamBam was spotted wiping his cheek with his sleeve. Though he’d never admit it.

After everyone convened in the dance hall for the reception, you were quick to remove your shoes, a fancy pair of stilettos you’d bought yourself for your birthday this year. You leaned your head on your husband’s shoulder, watching the newlyweds’ first dance.

“My feet hurt,” you whined in a whisper, wiggling your toes.

Jinyoung chuckled, slipping his arm around your shoulders. He rested his head against yours. “I told you to wear the flats, didn’t I?”

“Shut up,” you countered, turning your head to nip at his ear. “The heels were cuter. They’re sparkly.”

“Ah, you make a good point,” he whispered, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you replied. “A little tired.”

Jinyoung squeezed your shoulder gently, sliding his fingers along your skin. “The books say-“

“I know. It’s normal for the first trimester.”

Your husband smiled into your hair. “Sorry. I’ve just been learning a lot, you know? I want to help as much as I can.”

And he had. After finding out you were pregnant two weeks ago, Jinyoung had truly stepped up his game. Buying all of the natural remedies for morning sickness, rubbing your feet after every shift at the store, letting you sleep in on the weekends while he cleaned up the apartment and did the grocery shopping.

No one knew yet, since it was still rather early in the timeline and you both wanted to be sure before you spread the word. It felt like your own little secret—it was exciting. When you weren’t miserable, at least.

“I’m just grateful I’m not puking right now,” you told him, sliding your hand along his arm until you could intertwine your fingers. “I don’t think the bride and groom would appreciate that.”

Jinyoung snorted. “Jaebeom would lose his mind. I swear, I’ve never seen him as frazzled as he was this morning. He was wearing out the carpet, pacing back and forth.”

You laughed softly, watching as Jaebeom spun his bride around, nearly stepping on her dress. She smacked his shoulder playfully, no doubt reminding him just how expensive her dress had been.

“Can’t believe we’re here,” you said, staring down at your hands before pulling back to lock eyes with Jinyoung. “If only I could go back and tell my thirteen year old self where we’d end up…”

“Ha. My thirteen year old self would never believe me.”

Squeezing his hand, you smiled as you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad we’re here.”

It hadn’t always been an easy journey these last two years. After the honeymoon phase wore off, you’d gone through rough patches just like any other couple. It turned out, you were both wildly insecure deep down, which was never a good combination. You were needy and Jinyoung was jealous.

You’d had minor fights and not so minor fights, ones that had Jinyoung sleeping on the couch for a week, and one particularly terrible night you’d stayed with Sana. In fact, the man dancing with his wife in front of you had been the cause of that fight. Even more surprising that you were here now.

But you kept your promise to each other, always. Even when it was hard, even when you cried and thought maybe this wouldn’t work out after all—you still chose each other. Every day. Things weren’t perfect, but they were pretty damn close.

“Me too,” Jinyoung replied.

As you squeezed your husband’s hand and placed it against your stomach, you silently thanked yourself for each and every decision you’d made that had brought you to this place.

Something inside of you, though, told you the best was yet to come.

#thepactfic #writing #got7 #park jinyoung #jinyoung #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung smut #got7 smut #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung fluff #got7 fluff

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zackcollins · 3 years

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i can feel my heartbeat || f. andersen/j. campbell

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi, guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I’m back with another fic! This one is a little different than what I usually post but I’m not new to writing fics like this either. I actually started off my writing journey in the hockey fandom by writing player/player fics in February 2020. And 15 months later, I’m writing both player/player and imagines. Hope you guys are okay with this because I had a lot of fun writing it. GIF credit to dilfjohntavares!!

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything. Let me know if you disagree though. I’ll gladly add a warning for anything anyone feels needs one.

Word Count: 1.9k+

Title: Heartbeat by Chris Young

Additional: If you found this by Googling yourself, are in this yourself, or know someone in this, please click back. No harm was meant in the creation of this fic. It’s fictional and was inspired by some pictures of Freddie and Jack after Game 2 win against Montreal. Hope you guys enjoy this! (Bamse means “teddy bear.”)

Freddie's hair was all over the place on his head. Strands of hair hung down his forehead and kept getting in his eyes to the point where he had to keep brushing them aside so that he could focus fully on the task at hand. He knew he should probably go and grab a bobby pin or a hair clip from the bathroom drawer but he was so focused on trying to perfect the bread dough he was making that he didn’t want to step away for even one nanosecond.

That being said, the bread dough seemed to be coming along relatively well. Because he had never attempted to make bread before and he didn't believe himself to be the best at cooking or baking, to begin with, he was beyond proud of himself. He was kneading the dough in the bowl, trying to work out any air bubbles and mix the ingredients as best he could before he had to stick it in the fridge to rise.

He worked it over for a couple more minutes before he was satisfied that it was all kneaded out. As he lifted his hands out of the bowl, Freddie did his best to slide the excess dough from his fingers and put it on top of the dough ball he had created. When he was satisfied that his fingers were as clean as they were going to get, he walked across the kitchen to the pantry to grab the cellophane wrap to cover the bowl.

Right as Freddie opened the pantry, he heard something metallic clatter against the kitchen floor tiles. Whipping around, he saw Keola standing on the counter where the bowl of dough had been and the bowl of dough on the floor. The ball of dough that had been in the bowl had landed on the tiles and splattered a little. Freddie refrained from slamming the pantry door, though he did close it a little more aggressively than was strictly necessary. Cursing under his breath in Danish, Freddie walked back across the kitchen and scooped the dough in the bowl before he placed the bowl onto the counter with a heavy thud.

Keola tilted her head and skimmed her tail along the top of the counter, meowing a couple of times at Freddie. He rolled his eyes as he walked over to the sink and opened the cabinet underneath it.

“You would meow at me,” he grumbled, reaching for the Lysol and a dishtowel. “Wouldn’t you, you little hell-raiser?” Freddie closed the cabinet and walked back across the kitchen, getting on his hands and knees on the floor next to the remnants of the dough. "Wait until your other father hears about this." Freddie shot Keola a stern look as he sprayed the remaining dough with the Lysol. All Keola did was meow before shaking her head, jumping off the counter and walking away in the direction of her cat condo. Freddie scoffed as he took the dishtowel and began scrubbing the dough on the floor in an attempt to clean it up.

"Wait until I find out what?"

At the sound of Jack's voice, Freddie looked over in the direction of the kitchen's archway. Freddie looked back to what he had been doing, motioning up to the bowl on the counter with one hand while he continued to hold the dishtowel and scrub the floor with the other.

"That bowl up there," he said, pausing to spray some more Lysol on the floor. When he placed the spray bottle back beside him, Freddie spoke again. "Ended up on the floor because our hell raiser of a cat knocked it off the counter."

"Keola would never!" Jack chuckled. Freddie heard footsteps on the tile and then felt Jack's presence beside him a moment later. "Dough? Were you making pie?"

Freddie grabbed the counter and pulled himself up, having finished scrubbing the floor. Jack took the dishtowel from his boyfriend and tossed it in the sink. Smiling, Freddie leaned down and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead, ruffling Jack’s hair in the process. Jack hummed before he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Freddie's cheek., smoothing a thumb along Freddie’s jawline momentarily. Freddie smiled softly when Jack pulled away, grabbing his hand and running his thumb across Jack’s knuckles. Jack smiled earnestly.

"Thanks, bamse," Freddie said, dropping Jack’s hand and leaning into his boyfriend’s side. Jack took his arm and wrapped it around Freddie, pulling him in closer. "And no. Not pie. It was going to be homemade garlic bread to go with some Italian soup recipe Ilya found and said was, and I quote, 'better than mom's borscht.'"

Jack chuckled, rubbing Freddie’s upper arm and dropping his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Must be damn good soup for Ilya to say that.”

“I’m more of a hamburger guy.” Freddie pressed a kiss to the top of Jack’s head, taking his hand and tucking some hair behind his boyfriend’s ear. “But Ilya was adamant that I tried it. So, I was going to make it and surprise you for our anniversary tonight.”

Jack looked up at Freddie, a soft smile on his face. “Can I give you a surprise? Since dinner is ruined?”

“Of course, bamse. I’ll cook tomorrow instead because the sentiment is the same, no matter the day.”

Jack nodded briefly before he pressed a kiss to Freddie’s cheek. Freddie pressed a kiss to Jack’s forehead before Jack stepped back and walked across the kitchen to the freezer. He watched his boyfriend open the freezer and pull out a box about the size of a skate box. Freddie blinked in surprise because he hadn’t even been aware that it had been in there. A moment later, Jack was closing the freezer and walking back across the kitchen to be beside his boyfriend again.

He held out the box for Freddie. Without a second thought, Freddie took it, moving the bowl of dough aside so he could place the box on the counter. He flipped the lid open and noticed that there was a cake inside the box. His best guess would be that it was an ice cream cake, seeing as it had been in the freezer. When Freddie focused on the cake, he nearly slammed the box lid closed and willed the ground to open a wormhole that would teleport him back to Herning.

On top of the cake was a little message written in Danish.

Vil du gifte dig med mig?

And a little baggie with a ring inside of it. When Freddie looked over at Jack, Jack was, predictably, on one knee. He was looking up at Freddie nervously, his hands on his knee and his eyes looking like they were ready to burst into tears at any moment.

“So…” Jack said, trailing off. Freddie could hear the hopefulness in his boyfriend’s voice. “What do you say, bud? Wanna make it official and become Frederik Campbell?”

Freddie reached inside the box and grabbed the baggie with the ring in it. He handed it to Jack; Jack looked a little confused until Freddie held his hand toward Jack.

“Well? You going to put it on me or not, bamse?” Freddie chuckled, kicking at Jack’s shin playfully. Jack knelt there, a dumbfounded look of confusion still on his face. He made no move to open the bag or to grab the ring and place it on Freddie’s finger. Freddie rolled his eyes, kicking at Jack’s shin again. “That means yes, Jack. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Jack snapped out of whatever daze he was in and quickly opened the bag, nearly dropping it in his haste. Freddie chuckled as Jack grabbed the ring, fumbling it a few times as he slid it onto his fiance’s finger. Freddie leaned down, grabbed Jack by the shirt collars, and dragged him to his feet. Jack looked confused again but shifted to a look of understanding when Freddie grabbed his cheeks. Freddie stood idle for a moment to see what Jack wanted; Jack’s response was to feverishly nod his head and connect their lips, kissing his newly minted fiance as if his life depended on it.

Freddie smiled into the kiss, smoothing his thumbs across Jack’s cheeks. Jack hummed softly, opening his mouth a little. Freddie took that as his cue to slip his tongue into the equation. Jack groaned, though he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. Freddie smirked when he noticed how dishevelled Jack looked. It was nice to see that he could still make Jack this flustered from a simple make-out session this far into their relationship.

Jack walked across the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer, pulling out a knife and a couple of forks. Freddie opened the cabinet above him, pulling out a couple of plates. Jack returned and cut a couple of pieces of the cake, dropping a piece onto each of the plates. Before either could dig into the cake, Jack quickly put the cake back into the freezer, confirming Freddie’s theory that it was an ice cream cake.

When Jack returned, Freddie looked at him with a small smirk. “I want to make one thing clear, though.”

Jack put a piece of cake in his mouth, chewed and swallowed before looking over at Freddie. “What’s that, bud?”

“It’s you that’s changing your name to Jack Andersen.”

Jack took a piece of his cake and smeared it into Freddie's nose. Freddie chuckled, taking a piece of his cake and smearing it across Jack’s forehead. Jack chuckled, taking more of his cake and smearing it across Freddie’s lips. Freddie took it one step further and smashed the rest of his piece directly into Jack’s face. Jack didn’t seem to mind because he was laughing like an idiot the entire time. He took his finger, swiping it through the cake on his face. He stuck it in his mouth, humming as he licked it off. Freddie ruffled his fiance’s hair, kissing his forehead. Freddie smiled because the cake still tasted delicious, even though it was splattered across Jack’s face.

“Okay, okay,” Jack said, half-breathless from how hard he had been laughing. “Since you won the food fight, I’ll change my last name.”

Freddie snorted, pushing Jack’s head backwards with his hand. He licked the cake off of it before speaking. “I was just kidding, bamse. I just wanted to see how you’d react.” Jack leaned up and pressed a kiss to Freddie’s cheek. Freddie wiped away the cake that was left behind by his fiance’s lips and licked it off of his finger. “I’ll happily change my name to Frederik Campbell.”

“Yeah, bud?” Jack had a hopeful smile on his face and his eyes, once again, looked like they were about to cry at any moment.

“Yeah.”

Freddie held his left hand over Jack’s heart. Jack looked down briefly before looking up into Freddie’s eyes. They shared a long, meaningful look shrouded in comfortable silence. Freddie was eventually the one to break it. He took his other hand and brushed a stray piece of hair behind Jack’s ear before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his fiance’s forehead. When he pulled back, he looked at Jack and smiled fondly, patting Jack over the heart before bringing his hand over and patting himself over the heart.

“Anything for the man that not only earned my goal crease but also my heart.”

#frederik andersen #jack campbell #frederik andersen x jack campbell #frederik andersen/jack campbell #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs slash fic #player x player fic #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl slash fic #hockey slash fic #hockey #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #toronto maple leafs fanfiction #hockey rpf

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years

Text

How do the slashers close the bread bag?

Because I had a sudden urge to know while making a sandwich at 1:30am.

--------------------------------------------------------------

🎃 Michael Myers

Doesn't close the bag. At all.

Watches you take the time to use a twist tie only to swoop in and undo it once you are out of sight. Just to mess with you.

You end up with a lot of stale bread ಠ︵ಠ

🌲 Jason Voorhees

When/if you actually have a loaf of bread in the cabin he uses a twist tie like his momma taught him.

Stale bread who?

Possibly even finds or has a bread box.

If it's stolen from some unlucky campers and the tie is gone, he'll improvise with a close pin.

He's crafty like that.

🔥 Freddy Krueger

The bag and the bread is shredded.

Look Babe, now you can make stuffing! Ha!

Just get a kid proof container and hope for the best.

Also, burn all his toast and make a joke about how the two of them match. He will half appreciate it and half be pissed off.

It's totally worth it.

🍖 Bubba Sawyer

Twists the bag and tucks it under when he remembers.

But hey, he mostly deals with what goes in-between the slices of bread anyway.

☎️ Billy Lenz

Who let this rat boy near the bread?!

Bites it open and leaves you only the crust. Did he even make anything with it? We may never know.

CRUMBS. EVERYWHERE.

Get him a baguette to naw on for a few days. Get two and have a sword fight!

Who needs bags?!

🦋 Asa Emory (The Collector)

Twist tie and one of those plastic standing bread holders.

Don't you dare leave it open, that's why they come with the ties in the first place!

Artisanal bread can occasionally be found because he appreciates the process that is baking, thank you very much.

🤡 Pennywise the Dancing Clown

Eater of Worlds and Children.

Has no time for bread unless it's human flavored.

Or sweet. Give him sweet bread and tell me he won't love the absolute shit out of it.

Or those bagels colored with food dye.

Finishes the whole bag at once, no need to worry about closing it!

🔪 Norman Bates

Do you even have to ask?

If you don't already, you will pick up the habit of always using a twist tie.

Possibly keeps it in the fridge. Whatever his Mother did works best and why fix what ain't broke?

🚬 Bo Sinclair

Don't tell him how to handle a bag of bread! He knows what he's doing, he's a grown ass man!

Also complains about why the bread is stale sometimes.

Make this man some homemade bread and watch him melt. He will treasure that goddamn bread like it's the last loaf on Earth.

🎨 Vincent Sinclair

Remind this boy to eat!!!! Bring him food, snacks, anything.

Drag him upstairs to sit and eat with you, even if it's just something simple.

When he does make his own food, he probably uses a twist tie unless it's already been lost or he's in a hurry.

👗 Carrie White

You want bread? She'll make some. You want to learn how? She'll show you so you can do it together and experiment with new recipes.

Uses a twist tie more out of habit than anything else.

You'll pick up on that and start to do it to so she doesn't get that look on her face every time she sees something her mother wouldn't have 'liked.'

Secretly, you sometimes think 'fuck you Margaret' every time Carrie smiles at something new she never got to do because of her mother.

Even if it's just twisting the plastic bag of the bread and tucking it underneath.

👻Billy Loomis & Stu Matcher

Billy will twist tie it when you're in the vacinity. It's not like you hover but hey, everybody has pet peeves, he gets it.

Otherwise he doesn't really bother and when you discover it and ask him, he blames Stu.

With Stu it's a 50/50 chance and you take the wins when you can.

Billy knows you're secretly using kisses as a reward for Stu and damn if it doesn't start to work at some point. God he loves you.

Catch him leaving the bread bag undone on purpose just to get the same treatment.

Stu will get you a million bag clips in a million different varieties. Happy Birthday Babe!

☕ Brahms Heelshire

You make all his meals. ¯\_ʘ‿ʘ_/¯

Boy doesn't even know closing bread bags in different ways was a deal.

Do not attempt to change this unless you are a well trained professional.

#michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #freddy krueger x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #billy lenz x reader #the collector x reader #asa emory x reader #pennywise x reader #norman bates x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #carrie white x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #brahms heelshire x reader #slashers #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #slasher community #duck did it

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snowflake-of-destruction · 3 years

Note

I feel like Axel’s parents would adore Roxas

“Dad would love you,” Axel declares one afternoon without preamble or prompting. They’re in the Radiant Garden waterways, heading back from another trip to the remains of the dungeons, getting lost despite having made the trip before and Axel’s denials to the contrary.

Roxas’ clothes are damp and dirty, there’s a crick in his neck still from having been hunched over books in Ansem’s sprawling labyrinth of a library with Axel and Isa until his eyes burned and Axel had dragged him on a jaunt to the dungeons (The waterway dungeons at least, the laboratories elsewhere also held containment cells and outright cages that made Roxas wonder where the line for categorization was drawn, as well as why anyone allowed Ansem the Wise to pretend for more than a second now that his scientific studies had been anything resembling noble before Xehanort showed up and “corrupted” them, as if there hadn’t been rot and darkness spreading long before) to stretch their legs and makeout against walls, his hair is sticking up in odd angles from damp and fingers run through it, he’s tired, he’s disgruntled and discouraged despite recent distractions that they haven’t been able to find any record of existence of Axel and Isa’s old friend, he’s been expressing his mood primarily through mumbled cursing, there’s an ugly blue and purple bruise developing under his right eye from being hit with a Defender’s shield, and, even if the next cure spell cast should take care of the last at least, Roxas hardly feels like he comes across as lovable. Maybe-hopefully--Axel still loves him, but certainly he’s not exactly painting an endearing picture for anyone else. There’s not a trace of irony or mockery in Axel’s words though, and he’s not usually subtle when he’s making fun.

Roxas has already stepped into a nearby bubble and is carried away before he can ask Axel, “How do you figure?” and actually have him hear it, but Axel is right behind him, and when they are reunited again in another near featureless stony gully with waterfalls moving the wrong way, Axel answers without missing a beat, like he sensed Roxas’s question in a fleeting expression before he disappeared or they have bonded beyond the need for physical speech.

“He admired passion,” Axel explains. “He was pretty laid back himself. I guess I take after him in some ways,” the realization verges on melancholy, “Except I’m not as good at knowing exactly what to say to diffuse situations. He was a born peacemaker. I’m more of a… “ He trails off, knowing better than to start the argument or chain of reassurances that would be triggered by reflecting that he’s more a weapon, sharply honed and unperturbed and so better able to be used against those who lose their ability to think clearly when clouded with turbulent emotion. Roxas knows the unsaid anyway, but holds his tongue, opting instead to just shake his head and twine his fingers possessively in the notches between Axel’s own as if reiterating that they will--they have and Axel started even without him--pull each other into a better life than that.

“Well, anyway, he was a peacemaker, but not someone who believed there shouldn’t be conflict. He liked people that spoke their minds. Passionate. Opinionated. Fiery.” Axel laughs at his own word choice as more words fight to tumble out now that he’s started. “He had a predilection for fire magic. He’s the one that taught me, but he wasn’t hot tempered. He was warmth and light. He enveloped anyone he met, but he’d especially love you. He’d see I love you and you love me, and he wouldn’t need anything else to be on your side forever and support anything you ranted about or set your mind to.”

“He sounds nice,” Roxas replies and wonders not for the first time why he hasn’t met Axel’s parents yet. He forgets to ask. He doesn’t think much about families usually, ones people are born into at least. Axel and Xion are family. Sora is family, and Roxas long ago stopped trying to deny it. Even Isa is...getting there. Someday. Maybe. Roxas has a hard time remembering and keeping it in his mind that some people--most people, normal people--have more than that.

“He has the biggest heart I know,” Axel says that and no more.

Roxas has questions, but the sudden way Axel cuts himself off makes him reluctant to ask.

They find their way back to the castle and to town, and Roxas forgets.

“My mother makes the best honey wheat bread,” Axel says a few months later. Roxas tells him to ask her for the recipe.

~@~

“My father read that book.”

“I have the sequel. Do you want to send it to him?”

~@~

“You are exactly the type of partner my mother always wanted for me.”

“Someone that puts up with your bullshit?”

“Someone who brings out the best in me.”

~@~

“You’d make my mother laugh. You have the same sense of humor.”

~@~

“They’d love you like I love you.”

“Hopefully not just like.”

“They’d want you as another son.”

“Do you?”

“Want you as my son? I think that would be inappropriate.”

“Want to be a family forever?”

“I do.”

~@~

There are two empty seats saved in the front row of the ceremony. Roxas understands now. Radiant Garden may look like its returned to its former glory if you stay in town, ignoring the Great Maw, Villain’s Vale, the waterways, or other ruins and secret corners where Heartless run rampant and destruction and scars remain, but it’s not as simple as all that. Roxas had worked alongside the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee, like so many other of the Guardians had, but the meaning of it hadn’t sunk in for the longest time.

Radiant Garden had fallen and been twisted into Hollow Bastion, then it had been redeemed, but it had never been consumed completely, a star winked out, and the star hadn’t been fully reborn either. It didn’t seem fair. They could keep slaying Heartless and Nobodies and hope to see new recompletions (A task that Roxas had mixed feelings over that he didn’t always feel comfortable sharing, knowing his unique perspective on reunion of Nobody into the whole was one few people understood, despite saying they did in the moment before dismissing Roxas and Namine as special cases). They could take the extremist approach and advocate for unlocking Radiant Garden’s heart and leading Heartless there in the hopes a new world and all its people would come back once the cycle of Dark had been fulfilled. There were no guarantees.

Axel’s parents, like Cloud’s mother or Leon’s first love, Rinoa, or so many others Roxas had never and would never meet, were gone.

“I’d love your parents.”

“And they’d adore you, Roxas.”

#akuroku #headcanon #snippets #Anonymous #ugly scene breaks because tumblr keeps editing out the larger spaces when i publish for some reason

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shera-dnd · 4 years

Text

A Day at a Time - Mornings

Time for more Glitradora nonsense, this time with plenty of Catradora, that nice sprinkle of Glitra at the end and just a little bit of thirst

Here is the AO3 link for those who prefer to read over there and I ope you guys enjoy the read

Catra woke up to the sound of an alarm for the first time in months. It took her a little longer than usual to get up today, both because it was earlier than her usual time and because she had to calm down Melog, who had jumped up to defend her from her cellphone. It looked like she wouldn’t be the only one suffering to get used to this little change.

“You don’t get to complain, you little bastard.” She complained at her cat, “This is all your fault.” She tried to look stern, but Melog gave her the most innocent look in the world and she could only roll her eyes and give the cat his good morning scratches.

She dragged herself through her routine with a little extra grogginess, barely aware of what she was doing until she was outside the apartment building, watching Adora stretch. She certainly could watch Adora do that all day, but she came down here for a reason.

“Hey, Adora.”

“Catra!” She replied with a beaming smile. “I’m almost done here, then we can start. Did you already do your stretches?”

“Yeah… sure” Catra answered, not very convincingly.

“You should stretch before and after any intense physical activity!”

“What are you? My personal trainer?” Catra joked.

“If you want to, but you’d have to contact my gym and try to schedule time with me.” She answered, “I could offer you a friends and family discount though!”

“How about we stick to workout buddies for now?” She was certainly interested in becoming closer in the future, but not in a way that strained her already limited budget.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Adora replied with a chuckle “Now do your stretches before we start.”

Adora patiently guided Catra through her stretches and soon they were jogging. Catra hadn’t done any form of exercise since… well since that whole mess happened, so it was understandably hard for her to keep up with an actual fitness instructor. Still, she refused to make Adora stop, so she kept running and running and running, until Adora slowed down and started walking.

“W-what’s the matter?” She panted “Why’re we slowing down?”

“Just helping you pace yourself.” Adora answered calmly. She had barely worked up a sweat. “We can walk until you can jog again. Just drink your water and try not to push yourself.”

“I can keep going!” Catra insisted, ignoring how much her muscles burned.

“Are you sure?” Adora asked, a little worried now “There is no shame in walking.”

“I said I can keep going!”

~~~

“Just breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth,” Adora gently guided Catra. “Take deep breaths.”

Catra was sitting on the ground, trying really hard not to vomit after pushing herself far past where she should. The breathing exercises were helping a little bit though.

“Here, have some water,” Adora offered up her water bottle. “Just take small sips.”

It took Catra some self control not to chug it all down at once after over exerting herself like this, but she trusted the fitness instructor when it came to this at least.

“Feeling better?” Adora asked.

“Yeah.” She answered, still panting a little.

“So how about we pace ourselves a little better next time?” Adora proposed, earning a death glare from Catra. “That way you can get better at it and tell me to shut up.”

“I like that idea,” Catra forced herself to stand up. “But I think I’m gonna be walking the rest of the way today.”

“Oh so you’re done showing off for today?” Adora joked.

“I’ll fight you!” Catra exclaimed without missing a beat, earning a giggle from Adora.

“You sure you can do that right now?” Adora teased, “Maybe I should go wrestle with Melog if I want a challenge.”

“If I wasn’t dying right now, I’d kick your ass.” Catra declared, looking Adora dead in the eye.

Before they both burst out laughing.

“You can make good on that promise after you get some rest, okay?” Adora joked as they made their way back.

“Yeah” Catra agreed, dragging herself along. “I think I’ve done enough exercising for the week.”

“You mean the day.” She corrected “Because we’re gonna go jogging again tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fuck me.” Catra complained. She could have sworn she heard Adora mutter something in response, but she didn’t quite catch it. “What did you say?”

“I could give you a break,” Adora answered. It sounded close enough to what Catra heard. “It’s important to get some rest, but you gotta promise me you’ll come back the next day, because I’m not losing my workout partner that easy.”

“Fine.” She groaned.

~~~

The past few days had been both the best and worst days Catra’s had in months. She was very sore every day when she got to work and went to bed dreading to have to do it all over again. But every morning, she couldn’t help but feel excited to work out and spend more time with Adora, and afterwards she always felt a rush of satisfaction of having done just a little better than the day before. She really needed this.

Of course, all that positivity didn’t stop her from constantly groaning and complaining every time. Adora didn’t seem to mind it much - hell, she was probably enjoying it - she just kept teasing and challenging Catra to keep her coming back each day, but still making sure she always paced herself properly.

Adora had also started texting Catra about things other than their work outs. Catra couldn’t remember talking to someone this much ever in her life, but she was certainly not complaining. Adora was the most annoyingly happy and optimistic person Catra ever met and it could be infuriating at times, but she was also a little shit and she appreciated that.

Still their little chats could only do so much to quell the tedium of her day to day life and that became even worse during the weekend. Without her usual work hours and Adora telling her to take the time to rest and recover, she felt like there was a massive vacuum in her day that she simply did not know how to fill and so she spent most of her weekend doing nothing at all; she just waited for the day to be over. Sometimes the days went in the blink of an eye, and sometimes she was left alone with her thoughts for hours.

Today was one of the long days and after an hour of lazing around and mindlessly scrolling through the same three social media apps, Catra forced herself off of the couch and tried to shake away the haziness. She was working out now every day, if she could do that then she could do whatever the fuck she wanted and she would not let her day go by in meaningless stupor.

Catra was going to bake.

It took her awhile to google a simple recipe, now she just had to buy the actual ingredients since she had been living on nothing but instant noodles and frozen pizza for a while now. She made a quick trip to her favorite grocery store - the one with the nice cashier that always got her gender right - and returned with her hands full of everything she needed to make some bread.

Unfortunately Melog must have thought that this wasn’t enough of hassle, because as soon as she opened the door to her apartment he bolted out between her legs. “Again?” She yelled as she raced after the little bastard, groceries still in hand. “What is with you this week?”

She didn’t know what she expected from the little shit, but without warning he turned around and started running circles around his owner, keeping her planted in place.

“I can’t pick you up like this, you stupid cat.” She complained, “Can’t you see my hands are full?”

“Hey, is everything alright there?” A voice asked from one of the nearby apartments. Standing in the doorway was that same girl with the bright pink and purple hair, except this time her usual work attire had been replaced with a black shirt with a nearly unreadable metal band logo, and sweatpants. “Do you need some help?”

#spop #shera #glitradora #catra #adora #glimmer #fanfic #melog

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baekberrie · 4 years

Text

☀️rooftop pt.3 ➣bbh☀️

☀️Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, bakery & island! au

☀️Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader/ oc

☀️Previous - Next

☀️Updates every: Wednesday night🌙

Your eyes dig into me

Without anyone knowing My hidden heart was stolen

It feels like I’m walking on a path

In a faraway dream

it’s an emotion that has never Touched me before…

The following day was quiet, even in the frantic kitchen at 8 am in the morning. Although Mrs. Byun was yelling orders, as usual, everything seemed so far away, so quiet. The girl was kneading her dough next to Byun Baekhyun who was doing the same but while she made bread he had the task of making pastries since they were harder to succeed. Yesterday night’s events replayed in her head like a movie. The fact he was standing at such a distance from her although they were working on the same counter was extremely disheartening for her who only wanted to be his friend.

While glancing hesitantly at the boy from the corner of her eyes, she bit her lip, she had to say something. She never backed down, not even in this situation. It wasn’t just the simple fact that she wanted to be his friend that kept her insisting. It was the ice in his gaze, she knew it had to be broken, there was so much more to him than a quiet bakery boy. He was doing everything to hide it but she could see it in him. This strong pull in his regards, she wanted to drag him out of this lonely bubble he seemed to have built around himself. Maybe it wasn’t her business, maybe she was just being nosy, but she believed that everything happened for a reason, and if coming to this island let her meet Baekhyun, she knew she couldn’t let it be at that.

With her eyes tightly shut, she turned her body in his direction, parting her lips to speak;

“Baek-” And when her eyes shot open, he wasn’t there anymore, she could see him put pastries in the distant ovens. A frustrated huff left her pouted lips as a light blush crept on her cheeks, the whole situation making her feel extremely awkward although he hadn’t witnessed it.

“Do you need any help?” Came Mrs. Byun curiously, the girl reddened even more but nonetheless greeted the middle-aged lady with a grateful smile. “Could you explain this recipe for me again?” She said and showed her the one step that she hadn’t been able to get through. Mrs. Byun was genuinely happy to help. Whenever she got help from the lady, she couldn’t help but become extremely captivated by the passion burning in her eyes, how every inch of her body screamed how zealous she was about her work.

After a couple of moments, they were making small buns together, talking about anything that came to their minds. It was hard avoiding the topic of where she came from, she knew it would only worry the woman if she knew how and why she had come to this place. Though, she didn’t find it dangerous to give subtle answers.

“You know…” Mrs. Byun started softly, “Give Baekhyun some time, he’ll warm up eventually.” She smiled kindly at her while placing a bun on the tray. The girl let out a little laugh, wondering if she looked that obvious and desperate in front of the boy.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance” She sighed helplessly, somehow finding herself feeling extremely comfortable around the lady, letting her emotions flow without any worries. It was as if all the warmth that Baekhyun hid was completely unraveled in this lady, her eyes which resembled Baekhyun’s so much, they were the kindest she had ever seen, and she found herself succumbing to their motherly warmth.

“I just want to be his friend, but maybe I’m doing the opposite.” A frown twisted her lips as she eyed the bun in her palms with an unsatisfied expression, puffing out a breath as she started forming it from scratch.

“Aigoo! No, don’t say that!” Mrs. Byun was extremely fast to disagree, waving her hands in disagreement.

“You’re exactly what my boy needs, you know? Apart from Junmyeon and Jongdae, he barely has any friends. He’s mostly on his own, it’s bad for him-” Mrs. Byun spoke softly and kindly, but even in her affectionate eyes lingered a hint of sadness that she couldn’t decipher. “ I’ve done what I could, but I can only do so much. He wasn’t like this before, he’s hurt but he’s not letting anyone help him.” She bit her lip as her heart painfully clenched at the words of Mrs. Byun.

“He’s hurt?” She began, not being able to mask the concern and disbelief in her voice, “W-why?”

Mrs. Byun only gave her a solemn and saddened smile, by then she knew it wasn’t her story to tell.

“Please, don’t give up on my boy.”

The girl let a smile that turned her eyes into crescent moons spread on her face, a hopeful smile, one that gently soothed a mother’s broken heart.

“I will do my best.”

☀️☀️☀️

The next day, Mrs. Byun was as radiant as ever when she greeted her apprentice crew a good morning, telling them that they’d be splitting into themes for the various chores of the day. Before she knows it, the Kim brothers are ushered to the kitchen while she gets a long list of ingredients pushed into her face, which gave her the chills down her spine when she thought about her last attempt and how it had gone. She parted her lips to ask Mrs. Byun to change her task but the lady only winked at her playfully, as she called after her son.

“Baekhyun-ah! Come here!”

Once Baekhyun was there, Mrs. Byun nodded in her direction, the smile still as bright as ever on her lips. Seeing her in such high spirits made the girl grin as well.

“Please, accompany her to the market, there’s a lot of ingredients needed, plus she’s not good with orientation around here yet.” Ah, now she understood it, a little chuckle left her lips when she realized that Mrs. Byun was setting her up with baekhyun on purpose. She ignored Baekhyun’s questioning gaze on her and feigned cluelessness, pretending that she wasn’t aware of the fact that he was looking at her. The boy gave a polite smile to his mother, “Of course,” He said shortly before walking past her, muttering a soft let’s go behind her to which she happily complied.

Although the sun was the warmest, the sea was gracing them with a caressing and refreshing breeze, balancing down the overly hot temperature. She inhaled the salty air and heaved a long sigh.

“The weather is so nice,” She commented, directing her words to Baekhyun, wondering if he’d react since he was walking in front of her instead of next to her. It was a Baekhyun thing, it reflected the distance between them. He never walked with her, just enough to know she was there, but never with her. Though she was surprised when the boy answered with contently.

“Yeah, it really is,” The tone in his voice seemed so carefree, so gentle that she felt disappointed for not being able to see his facial expression, was he smiling? Or was it the typical blank face that he was sporting? Nonetheless, just that simple answer made her heart skip a little beat, she felt energized and couldn’t help herself when she started another conversation with him, even though 98% of it would be her talking alone, perhaps the boy was still listening after all.

“Where are we going first? To the supermarket or to the bazaar?” She wondered happily.

“Supermarket.” Baekhyun said.

“How do you know? You haven’t even read the list though?” The girl pointed out half curious half confused, knowing she hadn’t shown him the list since the moment they met in the lobby, it was still in her hands.

Baekhyun let out an exasperated sigh, “ It was me who wrote it.”

“Oh..” She breathed out, feeling a little dumb, she didn’t catch on the little glance that Baekhyun threw over his shoulder- biting his lip to suppress the tiniest hint of a smile at her flushed cheeks and pouty expression.

“Do you seriously only know how to give short answers!? You’re no fun!” She eventually burst, her voice a whine as she ran to catch up with him, finally sharing steps with him, and she was to be frustrated once more when baekhyun only shrugged his shoulders in response.

“If I’m no fun then don’t talk to me,” She gathered air in her cheeks, suppressing the groan that was threatening to erupt from her throat. Oh, so Byun Baekhyun wanted war? Okay!

“But like any normal person, I want to converse and make friends! Can’t you collaborate?” She begged, almost cried. At this point, Baekhyun was having a really hard time keeping in the chuckle bubbling in his throat, he didn’t know why her stubbornness was endearing him today, she sounded so silly and he couldn’t help but find her amusing.

“You’re not normal though, you talk way too much.” There was no hostility or coldness in his words as he spoke, he wasn’t realizing it himself, that he had let cheerful emotions flow through his voice, the girl’s lips split into a beam although he couldn’t see it.

“Baekhyun!” She whined, on purpose, this time. Her bright smile reached all the way to her ears while her heart burst at the chuckle that left his lips, shaking her head at the way he faked a cough right after as to conceal his actions. Nuh-uh, she thought, too late Byun Baekhyun, I heard you!

The rest of the day went smoothly. The girl’s heart wouldn’t stop beating joyfully in her chest, although Baekhyun acted as if he wasn’t willing to talk when she engaged him in a conversation, he wouldn’t back out. Even if his answers were the most minimal, she wouldn’t mind because the interaction was as precious as it could possibly be. Perhaps he was only temporarily in a good mood and she would never have this kind of interaction with him ever again, but that was why she was going to treasure this moment.

While Baekhyun paid the cashier, she occupied herself with stuffing the groceries in the bags, in total there were four. She was already on her way to take the fourth one when a soft and slender hand stopped her from doing that.

“Let me help you,” He mumbled, reaching out for her wrist and she cursed her body for tingling when his silk-like skin touched hers, an unexpected warmth seeping from his fingertips into her own. He slid a bag off her hold only to take it himself.

“Thank you, Baekhyun.” She smiled to which he didn’t reciprocate but simply nodded in acknowledgment.

Once back at the bakery they were greeted by a happy Mr. Byun by the cashier.

“Good morning! You didn’t get lost did you?” He joked loudly, his forehead glistening with a thin layer of sweat caused by the bright and warm sun shining down on the island. The girl, despite her blush, laughed along at Mr. Byun’s genuine ways, whining out a playful: “Oh, Uncle!”

Just a moment later, she and Baekhyun were sorting out the groceries by the things that go into the fridge and the ones that go into the storeroom. Baekhyun handed her a couple of things, most of them were dry products such as bags of sugar and flour. “Do you think you can bring these to the storeroom?” He asked, just in case she didn’t know where it was, but the girl did since she had been there with Jongdae and Junmyeon before.

“Will do, Captain!” She exclaimed playfully, setting her hand by her forehead before taking the things that Baekhyun had sorted out and made her way to the destined place. The boy only shook his head at her childish ways, but why does it make him smile?

The door to the storeroom had been quiet the hassle to open, she had struggled to open it for good five minutes before succeeding. She put all of the products on their respective places and clasped her hands contentedly, satisfied with her work. Just when she was about to turn around and head out, the door shut behind her back, making her freeze in her spot, heart ever so slightly picking up its rate. Oh no.

She sprinted to the door and pulled it by the handle, only to have it not budge the slightest bit. The girl could feel her calmness and rationality slip through the cracks of her fingers, sweat covering her skin and quick breaths leaving her lips as she knocked violently on the door. The light was automatic, thankfully, it was still on. She had always despised being closed in cramped places because of how it brought her back too many painful memories. She was screaming out the word help and banging on the door, bumping her body against it, hoping that it would magically open.

She was on her way try it again when the door swung open and it wasn’t there to meet her shoulder causing her to fly outside while gasping at the lack of contact. Her eyes shut to embrace the hurtful fall that in the end never occurred. She grunted as she hit against a hard chest. The scent that immediately sneaked into her senses was by now a smell that she could recognize anywhere. His arms so very tense and his hold feather-light around her waist as he held her into place, but to her dismay, it disappeared before she could even acknowledge it.

“Bekhyun-” She breathed out frantically, her view blurry and a lump closing up her throat. “ the door, it wouldn’t ope-”

“Do you seriously only know how to get yourself into trouble?” He hissed, a little too harshly for her liking, it wasn’t her fault that the door was bugging. Confusion surged within her at the contrast of his cold words and lack of iciness anywhere in his eyes. Nonetheless, she felt hurt by his insensibility. She pushed him away by the chest, “Yeah, sorry about that, and thanks.” She kept her eyes low before storming off, leaving Baekhyun slightly dumbfounded and guilty.

☀️☀️☀️

A loud scream echoed in the middle of the night and the girl bolted awake at the noise, fearful and barely realizing that it had been her own doing. Her heart in her throat as her chest heaved desperately for more air. Again, these nightmares kept following her around. This time, the tears on her cheeks weren’t merely dried stains, no, they were continuously streaming down her face and the blurry vision she woke up with intensified her panic. The sheets no longer on the bed as she had kicked them off in her violent sleep. On her skin were layers of cold sweat that dampened her hair. She had barely caught her breath when a few knocks resounded in her apartment, sending another wave of shock into her body. The girl was extremely adamant to open the door after such a nightmare- but she soon enough reasoned that it could very possibly be anyone of the Byun’s who heard her screams. As she pushed herself up from the bed, her legs almost gave out right there, her vision blackening ever so slightly. A cringe twisted her lips at the damp feeling of sweat down her spine.

Surprisment wasn’t the right word to describe what she felt when she opened the door and found a concerned Baekhyun at her doorstep, looking as if he had sprinted his way up the stairs from his family’s apartment to hers.

“Are you okay? We heard screaming from your apartment, ” Baekhyun was gasping out his words while his eyes danced all over her figure, trying to find anything that would tell him she wasn’t okay, but visibly relaxed when he didn’t see any injury. His voice was still incredibly faint, as if not wanting to scare her off. She bit her lip hesitantly, pushing a hand through her hair, and then settled with a slight nod.

She shrugged Baekhyun’s concern off, making space for the boy so that he could enter her little home instead of standing awkwardly by the door. He followed quietly as she led him to her bed where they both sat down, a noticeable distance between the two of them. His intense stare was burning like fire through her skin as she glanced at him but adverted her gaze immediately, not daring to speak.

Only when a soft breath tumbled out from his lips did she look up- a little startled, the hardness in his eyes had eased up a little when he spoke again, this time softer- letting his concern for her unfolding in the vibrations of his worried voice.

“Are you okay?” She didn’t say anything, but when he called her name in that serious manner, she couldn’t help but do so against her own will.

“I’m fine, it’s just a nightmare, it’s nothing big.” The answer made Baekhyun’s lips curve into a frown while his eyebrows met on his forehead. He hadn’t expected her to wave the issue away so easily, her who always seemed so positive, her who always wore her heart on her sleeve. Only now did Baekhyun realize how much more there actually was to this girl- who said she was fine although tears were slowly dripping from her eyes.

“I don’t think this means being okay,” He disagreed gently, almost a little hesitantly reaching with his fingertips to her cheeks, kindly catching a tear before it could trail further down.

“You had a nightmare, again, "He murmured, "and you’re crying, again,” He reminded her of the time he found her in the same state on the rooftop. She immediately dried her own tears and flashed him a smile- it was far too late for her to try and cover-up for the fact that her broken heart reflected through her teary eyes. Although it had just been a stupid dream, her senses had just been playing with her fears.

If it was possible, Baekhyun’s stare softened, even more. The boy gently latched his fingers around her wrist, tugging her up to her feet. She could only give him big questioning eyes.

“I’ll take you somewhere, come on,” Was all he said in the most comforting of murmurs. Millions of unanswered questions flowed through her mind. What was baekhyun doing? Why was he holding her wrist so casually as if he had never avoided close proximity? Why was her heart skip such wild beats? Why did it confuse her so much when he’d go from distant to incredibly warm, was baekhyun aware of it himself?

Baekhyun didn’t know what had gotten into him when he dragged her outside for a walk- this was so not like him. But those sorrowful eyes of hers, that desperate and lost expression she bore, those tears, he was cold yes, but not enough to ignore such an expression, much less when his heart had clenched so painfully.

Outside was way colder than during the day, but the girl didn’t have the time to worry because the first thing Baekhyun did was give her his sweater- in which she had tried to deny but ended up keeping when Baekhyun’s ice-cold glare was sent in her direction.

The walk was extremely quiet but somehow she found herself not bothered by it- it was a different kind of silence, it wasn’t making her fidget or feel uncomfortable, no, it was calm and healing. The sounds of Baekhyun’s quiet breathing in the still night caressed her ears as he walked a few steps before her. The streets were completely empty and silent, the sound of their shoes against the ground being the only noise. She looked up to the sky, only to notice how the moon wasn’t completely full anymore, but not fully a crescent yet. Nonetheless, beautiful and bright.

Before she knew it, they had walked through the whole bazaar and reached the beach. Baekhyun was removing his shoes, picking them in his hand and then looking back at her, lifting and expectant eyebrow as if he was waiting for her to do the same. A certain spark exploded in her chest as she snapped out of her thoughts and met her gaze with Baekhyun’s. Quickly, she proceeded to do what he had done and eventually they were walking by the shore, the wet sand sticking under their feet. The waves reached the coast in its slow tempo, at times even tickling under their feet, its sound the most comforting melody that her ears had ever listened to.

She had no idea why Baekhyun had so suddenly brought her here, and no matter how much she tried to answer that question in her head, it always led to more confusion and she realized that he was indeed a puzzle. One of those hard sorts, a puzzle of one thousand and more pieces, and she wondered if it was her place to try and put them together. Though one thing was for sure, and that the night sky reflecting in the sea was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, the water under her feet soothed her senses that had been shocked by the nightmare. The imagines of the dream slowly but surely leaving her conscious. She sighed in the salty breeze, trying to forget about the cracks in her heart, otherwise- how would she be able to live this new life? If she couldn’t run away from her past one, not even in her dreams? Just how-

“I lost something very important to the sea,” Baekhyun’s voice suddenly cut through the silence and startled the girl, but eventually she relaxed, though a bit surprised that he had started the conversation. His words reminded her of what Junmyeon had subtly spoken about. “A very long time ago,” His voice was just a weak murmur as he spoke, eyes dazed as they stared into the distance of the sky, in his orbs reflected the starry night and its sun that was the moon. For some reason, she felt her breath hitch in the inside of her throat, nervous about what he was about to say.

“I lost my parents,” Parents?

“Wha- wait but- Mrs. and Mr. Byun…” She couldn’t help it when the question rolled off her tongue. On Baekhyun’s face displayed a weak and defeated smile. “They’re my aunt and uncle.” Her mouth hung open in shock, her breath not even hitched in her throat- it felt like she had completely forgotten how to breathe. What was that pain in her chest when she looked into Baekhyun’s orbs? Was it because now, she was actually able to decipher what that hesitation in his eyes had always meant?

A lonely, lost boy.

“I lost them to the sea,” His voice was a weak whisper as if he was doing his best to hide the huge lump in his throat, waiting for the layer of tears glazing on his eyes to dissipate.

“Baekhyun- I’m-” She said breathily, not knowing what to say, refusing to say the words sorry because the last thing she wanted for him to think was that she saw him as was pitiful. She knew how much it hurt to be looked at with that kind of feeling. Though before she could finish her sentence, Baekhyun had already cut her off, an understanding yet defeated look painting his face.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” He sighed, “But you know? Sometimes I have this feeling in my chest, and maybe I’m delusional, but I feel like it’s not completely over yet, like they’re still out there, finding their way to me.” The glint of hope in his voice, in his eyes, was like the brightest star she had yet to see on tonight’s milky way sky.

“Having hope is not being delusional, Baekhyun, If you feel it then it must mean something.” She eventually said, her voice so raw as she thought about how he was desperately yearning for his family while all she was trying to was running away from her own.

Baekhyun didn’t answer but from the comfortable silence, she could tell that he appreciated it.

“We’re the complete opposites…” She breathed out almost incredulously. Baekhyun snapped his head in her direction at her words, it hadn’t been anything he had expected her to say.

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused but the girl caught on the little glint of curiousness in the undertone of his voice.

“I am-” She never thought that she would ever be here, pronouncing these words. All she was trying to do was forget, forget and forget, to leave her past behind her. But now, she didn’t know why she found herself exposing all the cards on the table. Maybe it was Baekhyun and the moon in his soft eyes, Baekhyun who had woken up in the middle of the night just to check if she was okay after a nightmare. Baekhyun who put his sweater on her shoulders over and over again, Baekhyun who always seemed to find her when she was in trouble, Baekhyun who she could trust.

Trust.

“I’m a runaway.” She finally said the words that tasted so extremely bitter on her tongue. Baekhyun’s eyes turned the size of two saucers and she could tell that he was barely holding in the loud “what!?” that would have echoed in the whole neighborhood. From shock, his expression morphed into confusion.

“But why?” His voice was a little hesitant, she could tell that he was being careful about the strings he was pulling. She didn’t know whether she was ready to talk about it- but before she could decide- her lips had already parted and she was talking.

“I lived in a foster family- and well,” She let out a shaky breath, even just having to speak about it made a lump form in her throat. Her vision blurred more and more for every second that passed. She let out a little embarrassed laugh while drying her tears with the sleeves of Baekhyun’s sweater that she was wearing. “Sorry- It’s just a bit hard to talk about it,” Baekhyun shook his head and before she knew it, he was there in front of her, eyes pooling with gentleness as he placed a hand on her arm, rubbing it comfortingly, drawing lazy circles. Calling her name made her finally meet his gaze, it shocked her when he gently held her hand in his to bring it down from her face. His hold so light- almost as if it was barely there- and yet she felt it like fire on her damp skin.

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk about it if you don’t feel like it.” He whispered tenderly but she shook her head dismissively, she had to be strong. She realized that only through this, she could really leave her past behind her and start this new life. She had to face her pains and fears, thus hiding from them wouldn’t make them disappear. “I’m okay,” She held her hand up, finishing to dry up the tears with the other. After taking a big and shaky breath, she cleared her throat and slowly tried again. The lump was still very much present in her throat, closing it up and forcing her not to speak, however, somehow, she managed to push through it.

“They… Let’s say I was accepted into their family at the wrong timing- I ended up becoming a punching bag for their anger and issues. I was the answer to all of their problems, and they hurt me. Physically. But I don’t want to blame them, you know? Because they still took me in and in one way or another they took care of me.” She confessed. “Don’t get me wrong, there were definitely happy moments too, I had two stepbrothers there, they were basically my best friends and- gosh,” The girl almost choked on a sob as she mentioned the ones that had been her only steady rocks during the hard times, she would be lying if she said they didn’t matter anything to her anymore.

“I really miss them- But I couldn’t stay in that house Baekhyun, I didn’t feel part of that family- I wasn’t and will never be. The beating had started getting worse and, I, couldn’t stay in there, you understand that, right, Baekhyun?” Before she knew it, fresh thick tears had started to spill from her eyes all over again and her voice had become a mess of loud sobs pushing past her throat. The guilt and desperation were eating her heart like insects to a corpse. She was speaking as if seeking reassurance, as if she was afraid that she could have handled the situation in a better way. As if she had done something bad to her foster family. “I wasn’t being ungrateful, right? I was wasn’t? I ran away after all they-” It was futile trying to form any sentences, her crying had gradually become uncontrollable and it sucked away all of her breath. Leaving her gasping for air, any sound became extremely distant, numbed by her own cries. Baekhyun who had until now been staring and listening to her intently felt completely powerless in front of this girl, his heart was breaking at the sight- but what was he supposed to do? Tell her it was okay? Touch her?

Not being able to stand another second seeing her suffer like that, Baekhyun took a big step closer to her and put his hand on the back of her head, the other snaked around her shoulders as he gently guided her to his solid yet incredibly comfortable chest. His scent that she loved so much enfolded her senses and her ragged breathing started calming down as the male caressed her scalp ever so gently, his cheek rested on her crown as he murmured the most reassuring words he could muster, just like his mother would comfort him.

“No, I understand you, You did what your heart told you to do, it’s okay to do things for our well being, whether it involves running away or any other crazy doing,” He whispered in her ear, somehow in the process he had started rocking their bodies gently to the rhythm of the ocean waves. “You’re not ungrateful, maybe, sometimes, the true us awaits us in another place- In another life- I think it’s just fair that we go look for it no matter how far it might be. It’d be worth it.” By then she had completely calmed down, though Baekhyun’s words were what had made her look up from his chest, his shirt by now drenched in her tears. Her eyes wide with shock but still she threw her arms around his shoulders and tightened her hold around him.

There was never going to be anything more precious to her than the words she had just received from the Beautiful blue-eyed boy embracing her, chasing her nightmares away.

“Maybe, sometimes, the true us awaits us in another place- In another life- I think it’s just fair that we go look for it no matter how far it might be. It’d be worth it.”

☀️☀️☀️

The following days and even weeks felt for the girl extremely different. But in a good way. She felt happy and unexpectedly light after having opened up to Baekhyun who had seemed so accepting of her past although it was something so undesirable. Hence, she felt as if there was a bond forming between them and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t being very excited about Baekhyun. The boy had started showing so many more emotions that she, in the beginning, had not known how to handle it. He had started greeting her good mornings when they’d first meet on their shifts in the bakery, not to mention the tightlipped smile that he so genuinely sent her, making her heart feel very weird things in the chest, something that she didn’t want to address just yet.

When they’d bake on the same counter he would every once in a while glance at how she was doing, popping questions such as is everything going well? or Do you need help? Being extremely thoughtful and good Lord, open? So open that it astounded her, could Byun Baekhyun really be doing this or was she dreaming? Was this what he had been suppressing all of this time? Although he sometimes was still very hesitant and reserved, Baekhyun had stopped acting as if he didn’t care, he started treating her more like… More like a friend and just that thought alone was valid enough for her heart to burst.

The time ticked twelve o'clock and oddly enough, the bakery wasn’t oozing with costumers as it usually would, that meant a calmer environment in the kitchen. Also, no nervous and frantic Jongdae spilling flour or breaking cups, no yelling Mrs. or Mr. Byun, no cramps in her poor fingers by all the dough kneading. There was a happy smile playing on her lips although there was a giddy sensation tickling her insides. She had no idea why, but for some reason, she couldn’t stop glancing over at Baekhyun’s waking figure. His whole being was like a huge magnet to which her eyes flew to before she’d even know it.

Her heart betrayed her with the wild skip upon her eyes for the first time taking notice of the way his serious expression made him look so incredibly mesmerizing, how his veins popped from under the exposed skin of his forearm as he had rolled his sleeves up. His ridiculously beautiful hands working the dough fiercely, the girl found herself swallowing a lump of saliva before settling her gaze back on the knife in her hand, resuming the cutting of strawberries. An incredible urge to talk with the boy surged from the deepest parts of her, an urge to hear his voice directed towards her being. She did not even know what to say.

Just a few moments later, after a mental preparation, she dared herself to turn around and talk with the boy but found him already walking in the opposite direction. A long sigh of disbelief left her lips, defeatedly cutting the strawberries on the tray while keeping her eyes on Baekhyun’s back not too many feet away. With her attention solely on Baekhyun, it had only been a matter of time before she eventually cut herself with the big knife, a loud yelp erupting from her throat. Everyone’s head turned to her direction, worried looks on the Kim brothers’ faces, ready to sprint for her aid. Though Baekhyun was the quickest to react out of all, and before she knew it, the boy was already standing in front of her, inspecting the injury on her finger with concerned yet serious eyes. Mrs. and Mr. Byun were curiously watching the unusual view of a concerned Baekhyun, as well as Jongdae and Junmyeon.

The boy looked frantically around but found no sink or paper in the area to clean her cut on which a small bubble of blood had started to form. Not wanting the blood to overflow, Baekhyun gently led her finger to his lips, parting them ever so slightly before delicately planting them on her fingertip. She could feel how his lips lightly sucked on her skin to take away the blood, the heat under her skin had started rushing furiously to her cheeks. The beetroot red color spread all the way to her ears, her heart echoing in her head as she feared herself to faint at any second. Though she wasn’t the only flustered one in this kitchen, Mrs.Byun whispered a surprised yet embarrassed Oh My! while hiding her face in her husband’s chest. Jongdae wore an amused smirk on his face, full of smugness, while Junmyeon’s eyes couldn’t believe a single thing that they were seeing, he gasped loudly, mouth wide open.

☀️☀️☀️

Here you all go~ In this not so small birthday update, the whole truth is revealed in its rawest (and my mediocre) angst!! And replaced with fluff, but don’t get fooled, there is more angst to come!😭 Anyways, thank you all for reading this story, I’ve really poured all of my motivation for anything in this story and it means the world to me that you guys are giving it your precious time. So thank you💕💞✨

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btsbaereacts · 4 years

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BTS Reactions: Going to the grocery store

m.list

Prompt: Going to the grocery store together

Notes: I’m thinking about US grocery stores, fluff, gender-neutral, food allergies/intolerances in Jimin’s reaction (because same)

Jin:

Jin was a great cook, so going to the grocery store with him was always an adventure. It usually consisted of him buying exactly the right ingredients for everything he would cook this week, while you begged for every box of cookies you saw.

“Jin, I know you said I could pick out three snacks, but I really want these too.” You pouted, holding up a giant box of crackers.

“Why do you need crackers if we already have two types of chips and cookies?” Jin asked while taking inventory of everything in your cart.

“Please, let’s get the crackers and you can eat some too.” You smiled.

“Y/N, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Jin laughed knowing you too well. “Fine, let’s get the crackers too.”

“I knew you loved me!” You happily exclaimed, stepping up on your toes to peck Jin on the cheek.

Yoongi:

You had to practically drag Yoongi to the grocery store with you to get him out of his studio (and out of his head).

“Babe, what do you want?” You asked as he pushed the cart behind you.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

“Okay, but then you have to be happy with whatever we eat this week.” You always cooked for him as he was usually too busy writing. You loved cooking and trying new recipes, which worked well because Yoongi liked eating.

“Can we have that pasta thing you made last week?” Yoongi looked up at you.

“The one with the tomatoes?”

“Yeah, I really liked that one.” Yoongi smiled.

“Okay, just make sure to remind me to grab the basil before we go.”

It had been nearly an hour before you were headed to the checkout. You were both tired. “Yoongi?” You hummed. He looked at you expectantly. “Can we just order in tonight and watch a movie?”

Instead of answering, he threw his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple.

Namjoon:

Namjoon was methodical when grocery shopping with you. Even though you cooked most days, he made sure to make a list with you before leaving the house. He knew that if you didn’t make a list, that you would forget half of what you needed and ask him to go back for it.

“Okay, can we try this time to only go down each aisle once?” Namjoon asked you, grabbing a cart.

“I’ll try. I don’t know though, sometimes after seeing something, I think we should get something else that we already passed.” You were already looking at the vegetables and trying to decide what to make with them. “Are you okay with fried veggies sometime this week?”

“Of course, we could also just do fried rice. With steak.” He looked at you, showing his dimples.

You just laughed and motioned for him to add steak to the list. Halfway through the aisles, he could see you started to think deeply about something. “Did we miss something? Do we need to go back?” Namjoon asked.

“Um, I just think that if we’re getting this sauce for the meat, that maybe we should go back to get some bread to eat with it? Like good bread, not just regular bread?” You knew how much he hated going back for things.

“Okay, what if I go back and get the bread, and you keep getting the stuff here?”

“Perfect.” You smiled before he turned to walk back towards the front of the store. You mentally promised to make him something extra delicious this week.

Hoseok:

Grocery shopping with your boyfriend, Hobi, was like following him around while he stared in his own personal music video. He wouldn’t just find something and put it in your cart, but he would make every action as extra as he could.

"Why do you always have to do this?” You laughed at him as he spun around with a package of four in his hands.

“I know how much you hate grocery shopping, so I thought this would make it more fun. Wanna try with me?” He set the flour in the cart and grabbed your hand.

“Fine, but I’m not doing anything ridiculous.” You laughed as he spun you in the aisle. You could feel the other customers staring, but you didn’t care anymore. This was exactly why you were so in love. Simple everyday activities became adventures with Hobi.

“Y/N, I think you and I should make a video next time we go shopping.”

“In your dreams.”

Jimin:

You hated going grocery shopping, and Jimin knew it. So, without you ever needing to ask, he always joined you.

Walking through the aisles, you looked for the products to make your favorite dinner. You needed some pasta, some veggies, and ingredients to make the sauce. After looking through the different types of sauces and reading the ingredients label on each can, Jimin waited patiently with the cart. After finding some sauce that worked, you meandered over to the pasta aisle.

Looking through all of the packages of pasta, you couldn’t find what you wanted. Without realizing it, a heavy sigh fell from your lips.

“Hey, let’s look over there, maybe we can find the right pasta,” Jimin suggested taking your hand. He knew how much you struggled with food. As a child, you ate everything and anything. But, as you grew up, you started having more and more problems with your stomach. Your doctor suggested that you might be lactose intolerant, so you cut out most dairy from your life and it seemed to get better. And then, it got worse. So your doctor suggested cutting out gluten. Again, it was better, until it wasn’t. Then, you had to take out most spices. Now, you had to really limit the amount of dairy and spices you could eat, but you couldn’t eat any gluten. Jimin was understanding, and he tried to help you as much as possible.

“Yeah, okay, they must have some gluten-free pasta.” You sighed.

“We could do rice instead of pasta,” he smiled at you.

“Yeah, that might be okay.”

“I know it’s not what you want, but we can have the pasta next week. I’ll order the pasta online to be sure.” Jimin squeezed your hand. You loved him for doing things like this.

“Okay, maybe we can find some of the cookies I like.” You started to smile.

“Let’s go, my girl needs cookies.”

Taehyung:

Shopping with Taehyung was like shopping with a 5-year-old. Except that you were also a 5-year-old. That’s why Jin usually went with you. Today, Jin was busy, and you two were really out of food.

You two were trying to see how far you could get down the aisle riding in the cart. So far, neither of you were really winning as you kept knocking things off shelves and the only thing currently in the cart was you.

“Okay, we have to actually buy some food.” You laughed.

“Right,” Taehyung laughed as he starting putting things in the cart. After 15 minutes the cart was full. You shrugged at him before making your way towards the checkouts.

Getting home, you set the bags on the counter and started taking everything out. Someone knocked at the front door and you asked Tae to grab it.

Namjoon walked into the kitchen, eyeing all of the food on your counter.

“You guys realize that this is all just snacks, right?” Namjoon asked looking between the two of you.

“I guess we can always just order a pizza?” Tae asked.

“Yeah, why not?” You said laughing, realizing after setting your fifth bag of chips on the counter that Namjoon was right.

Jungkook:

You and Jungkook hardly ever grocery shopped. Between his traveling and yours, neither of you were home enough for it to be necessary. You were a director at your company, and that required a significant amount of travel. Knowing how young you both were, you had to put your work first otherwise there was no way you were going to stay in your position. Jungkook understood, and never made you feel like you weren’t doing enough for him or for your relationship.

Knowing that you were both getting home on Friday, you had texted your assistant with a list of things to get for you. She picked up all of your and Jungkook’s favorite snacks and ingredients. You were planning on spending a weekend lounging with just him.

When he walked through the door, bags in hand, you ran to him. It had been nearly two months since he had been home.

“God, baby, I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your hair. After a few moments, his stomach let out a low growl.

“I got us food.” You smiled.

“Really? You went to the store?”

“Well, actually, I sent someone, but we have food.”

Jungkook laughed, “I love you.”

As always, my requests are open! Please check out my prompts and my masterlist <3

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hargroves-angel · 5 years

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Cookies And Cream 🏹🍪

Chapter 5 - Ice Cream

Warnings - Mentions Of Abuse, Fluff, Billy being baby 🥰

// Chapter 6 - Cheese Cake // Cookies And Cream Masterlist //

“Billy!” Y/N giggled. She was like an excitable puppy as she pulled him into her house.

“Woah angel what’s got you so happy?” He smirked. She had invited him over to do something, well that’s what Max said anyway. He kept trying to shove yesterday out of his mind, he didn’t care about who you liked anyway so he was confused as to why that lingering feeling of wonder wouldn’t go.

She daintily skipped as she dragged him into the kitchen. Several ingredients were placed on the counters. “What’s this?” He asked.

“We are baking! That’s why I asked your sister to tell you to come over today? I thought she told you why?” Billy shrugged. “Either way I’m on the cheerleading squad! And I’ve got my first team bake sale!” She was beaming at him, her eyes shone with joy.

“Really?! That’s great doll, didn’t know they did bake sales though” he chuckled. Looking around at the various equipment.

“It’s to get better uniforms for us and some new basketball hoops and jerseys for you guys... you know how they’re doing that cheerleader to a player thing- which reminds me!” She bounced upstairs leaving Billy for a moment.

Billy felt uneasy. He wanted to ask you who you liked but he also told himself that he didn’t care, because he didn’t... right?

She was holding a journal in her hand. It was a pastel pink colour with a white ribbon in it, she used that as book mark clearly.

“Look!” She showed him a list of names. It was various girls names on one side and boys on the other, each was paired with a line.

He read Y/N and followed the line to Billy. Who was Billy? Oh wait that was him... Jesus he’s been spending way too much time over thinking. Oh wait that was him! she was gonna be his cheerleader, he felt his heart swell. He hated it.

“Emery was meant to be paired with you, but after yesterday... she decided she wanted to go with Sean, how it works is that I’ll get given a cheerleading dress with my second name on it for when I’m cheering in competitions and practicing and then another for school games we get to switch into the special uniforms with our basketball players second name on, so mine will have Hargrove on it, team Hargrove for the win!” Y/N looked down, she seemed a little flustered. “It was Emery’s idea because Sean had given her a promise ring and she wanted to show off her future second name or something, I like the concept. I’m like your personal cheerleader!” She giggled. Billy’s heart fluttered at the thought of her being his personal cheerleader.

“Thats perf- great.. all good” he cleared his throat. Y/N felt a little unhappy with his response, she thought he’d be happier, oh well.

“Anyway!” She shoved the book onto the table and flicked through it to a decorated page. “I was up all night making a list of what we have to make, and you’re helping me!” She declared.

“What! I don’t know the first thing about baking” he protested.

“Trust me, max filled me in, so that’s why I’m gonna teach you!” She put on her cooking apron over her dress. “One second” She left the room, Billy stood in the kitchen, looking at the patterned wallpaper on her walls. He jumped when he felt her hands wrap around his middle, she pulled an apron over his head and tied it up, he wanted to lean into her touch because it just felt so comfortable, so right. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. He looked at the black material.

“This has to be the darkest thing you own” He chuckled.

“I bought it yesterday, I couldn't really imagine you wearing frilly pink or white aprons, Bad Boy” she teased. His heart warmed at the fact that she went out of her way for him. Damn, he needed to eat... Sure was getting hungry...

They washed their hands, Billy flicked some water at Y/N and she squealed doing the same.

“Billy! Stop you’re gonna ruin my dress!” She giggled pushing him away from her and throwing a cloth at him. He quickly dried his hands before creeping up behind Y/N and tickling her sides as she tried to dry her own hands. Her soft giggled filled the room as Billy kept tickling her, they both ended up falling on the floor, laughing. “Billy! Please stop!...” she giggled. He ceased, his body hovering over hers, his face now only inches away from hers, his eyes glanced over hers, he licked his lips, the hungry feeling getting really strong his whole stomach fluttering in... hunger?

“Y/N... I think... I... - we should get up and get started” he mumbled crawling off of her. His dick wanted him to go back, that was the closest they’d been. His mind and his heart told him to leave, he felt as though maybe he didn’t want to go that far... yet. For some reason he was starting to care about her... Jesus he was starving right now, he definitely needs to go to a doctor this amount of hunger surely wasn’t normal, he’d only had breakfast an hour ago!

“Ok what are we making first?” He asked looking inside the flour bag.

“Something simple, cookies!” She beamed at him. She got on her tip toes and tried to grabbed a huge book from the cabinet.

“Here lemme help princess” Billy chuckled picking up the book with ease and placing it on the table.

“Thank you” she went to the table and flicked through it. “Ok, so we have different types to make, so classic chocolate chip, double chocolate, cupcake mix cookies and sugar cookies!” She landed on a page that had the word cookies on it and proceeded to look through the various pages after that picking out the right recipes.

“Where did you get this from?” He asked, noticing how most of the pages were old and crinkled but some where fresh.

“It’s passed down the generations in my family, this was originally my great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandmothers recipies and then once they pass on they hand it to their daughters” she smiled at his inquisitive nature.

“Jesus that’s old” he smirked. “Let’s bake then” he was actually excited, the only time he baked was with his mother back in California, he only did it once because his father shouted at him for doing ‘girly things’. This felt nice though.

Y/N and Billy baked all the different types of cookies, Billy getting various ingredients down himself.

Billy had cookie dough on his cheek and had eaten half of the chocolate chips they were meant to be using. “Come here!” She scolded him and licked her thumb wiping the dough from him.

She showed him how to cut out various shapes for the sugar cookies. Guiding his fingers to the right places and giggling whenever he got frustrated.

They moved on from the cookies to making other recipes. From doughnuts to cupcakes to even home made ice cream.

Billy’s big hands were good at kneading bread, and so he worked on a whole meal loaf whilst she tackled a Victoria sponge.

“Billy be careful! You’ll squish it” she laughed at his best efforts to bake.

“Princess I don’t understand! This is confusing” he groaned. Shoving the bread into the oven.

“That’s better, you’re doing really well Billy, these are gonna taste amazing” she giggled.

Billy was enjoying this more than he should have, he usually would’ve tried moving onto sex by now, with no interest in the actual time they spent together. But with Y/N things were different, he wanted to spend time with her... she was like an angel- his angel-

Y/N handed him a piping bag with icing in it.

“Look what happens when you squeeze it” she guided his hands to the cake she had made placing it on the spot she wanted.

Billy lightly squeezed the piping bag and the icing came out like whipped cream.

“I’m pretty good at this baking stuff” he boasted. Icing smeared down his cheek and flour down himself.

“You’re amazing Billy!” She gazed into his baby blues. He looked into hers.

Time stopped again. Billy’s Head was spinning, that damn feeling was back and his heart rate was through the roof. Not to mention how hot it was, all the windows were open and Billy had snacked on literally anything he could find and that damn hunger wouldn’t stop.

The timer pulled them both out of the trance. Y/N hurried over to the oven opening it, the scent of all their treats filling the room.

“This is the best part” She sniffed the air taking in the sweet sugary smell. Billy had a blush dusting his cheeks. Watching this angel in front of him.

Maybe he wasn’t feeling hungry... maybe it was something else. He pushed it to the back of his mind.

Billy blinked quickly and helped her get the cookies and desserts out of the oven.

“These turned out perfectly Billy!” She showed him the treats. There was one dodgy cookie in the corner.

“Ahh there’s my practise cookie” he smirked grabbing it off the burning hot tray and immediately flinching backwards. “Fuck!” he yelled holding his hand. Y/N put the tray down and took Billy to the sink, she ran cold water over his finger.

“What am I going to do with you” she rubbed his back, nursing his finger under the cold water. “That feeling better?” She asked after 2 minutes. He nodded. Feeling a bit embarrassed. Also a little confused, no one usually cared when he got hurt. It was usually ‘Man up pussy and get over it’, it felt nice to be cared for. “Let me kiss it better” she pressed her lips to his hand and placed a soothing kiss on it.

Ok she definitely was an angel, it’s like it just stopped burning immediately, or maybe it was the fact that it had been under freezing cold water for a minute or two but still, that small kiss made his mind go fuzzy.

“It’s all good, didn’t hurt that much” he brushed off.

“Sure thing bad boy” she handed him a cool rag and he held it on his fingers and thumb. “Anyway now that that’s over we can package everything, my second favourite part” She took him to the dining room, baskets and plastic wrap was around the place, bows and labels next to them.

“How about you hand me the treats, once they’ve cooled down, and I’ll wrap them and then you write the label and then ill put the bow on top, let’s start with cookies”

Billy handed her several cookies, keeping one for himself and biting into it. He wrote down the labels.

Y/N placed some in a big basket and a couple spread into small gift boxes similar to the one she gave him when they first met.

They moved on through the treats. Soon enough it was dark outside and everything had been complete.

Y/N and Billy sat down in her room, both laughing at one of his stories about Tommy.

“That’s mean!” She giggled.

“He deserved it” Billy protested. Their laughing calmed down and Billy looked up at the time. “I should get back, Maxine probably thinks I’ve died or something, I’ve never spent this much time with a girl” he smirked at her.

“So I’ve been told” she smiled at him.

“What do you mean?”

“There were rumours about you being a womaniser and stuff, even if you are ,Billy, or were, I don’t care by the way. To me you’re sweet, not anything like that. I only believe what I see not what I hear” she moved closer to him. His arm wrapping around her.

“Thanks, not many people now a days think like that” he mumbled, happy that she was willing to ignore that stuff to get to know him. She really was perfect.

“I need to go” he quickly said, standing up rather fast. “Umm, see you Monday!” He mumbled leaving her house as quick as he could.

He breathed out heavily as he got past his front door.

He noticed Neil’s car parked by the side of the house, oh god.

“Where have you been boy” Neil asked gruffly.

“With a friend dad” he muttered “doesn’t matter anyway I’m here now”

“Yeah, after curfew, I asked you to babysit your fucking sister”

“She’s not my-”

“I don’t give a shit boy” Billy shoved past him into his room. Neil yelling after him. Susan got up from the couch.

“Don’t think you can fucking run away from me you little shit, you gonna run like your piece of shit mother huh?” Billy’s blood ran cold, how fucking dare he.

Billy balled his fists but Neil got the advantage shoving him against the wall. His shirt in his hands.

“You fucking come home late again, you fucking speak to me like again, you’re gonna regret it” he spat at Billy, “now what do you say!”

Billy looked the other way, he didn’t want to even look at Neil.

“Say it boy!”

Billy mumbled his response.

“SAY IT”

“I’m sorry sir” Neil slapped him and proceeded to let go of his shirt leaving Billy to fall down. His hands trying to steady himself. Susan rushed Neil out of the room.

“Fucking ungrateful piece of shit, doesn’t know the first fucking thing about-” Neil yelled at Susan.

Billy took a deep breath in. His eyes glazing over with hurt. He felt so lost, so lonely. His hands were shaking, hot tears blurring his vision as he slid down the wall. Letting himself cry, get every emotion out.

Y/N watched him from her window. Her own eyes watering. “Billy” She whispered. Wanting nothing then go run over to him and hold him, tell him everything was ok. She bit her lip, stepping away from her window. Her heart racing, she felt horrible. Should she have yelled something from the window? Would he have heard her? She took a deep breath in. Tears rolling down her cheeks. She shook with regret and sadness.

Billy needed help. She didn’t know how to help. But she was going to try anyway she could. Because she cared about him.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove smut

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tibbinswrites · 5 years

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Suptober Day 18 - Food

The cupboards of the bunker’s kitchen were always full, the fridge… not so much. Oh, the freezer was stacked to bursting and the pantry was almost overflowing. Every grocery run Dean would return with at least three more cans of soup or giant bags of rice or pasta, along with the fresh stuff that was gone again within days, or left to gather mould as the inhabitants took on a case with little to no forward planning.

Despite their stores of non-perishables, it was a rare week that Dean would have to dip in more than two or three times. The kitchen had been decently stocked with equipment when they’d first moved in and with the modern additions that had been added since, one could almost call it a chef’s dream.

Dean did most of the cooking, of course. He enjoyed it. He hadn’t used to, back when ‘cooking’ meant sticking a can of spaghetti hoops on a hot plate or pouring milk onto cereal, but when he learned to trust himself to work an oven without burning the place down he began to experiment. Sammy needed his vitamins after all, and John had actually been pretty good at making sure they were stocked up when they were younger, so instead of ignoring the vegetables and raw meat in favour of the quick and easy ready-meals, Dean began to try some things out. He’d stolen a couple of recipe books and improvised with some of the more niche ingredients. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. It had been frustrating sometimes, if the substitute ingredients were vile or the chicken was burnt to cinders because Dean had been distracted by peeling and chopping the vegetables, then there was no back-up plan, the food they had had to last as long as possible, so they would either have to force it down anyway or go hungry, but it was a hell of a lot more fun than PB&J for the fourth night in a row.

It was only after they’d moved into the bunker that Dean began baking. Before it had always been a shop-bought cake for birthdays, less so about the ingredients after he’d been issued his own fake card and more about the fact that there was no practical reason to drag around crap like mixing bowls and rolling pins and cake tins all over the country when they needed the room for ammo.

But in his own space, where he could buy whatever equipment he wanted, Dean thrived. Okay, sometimes he was too tired or drained to do more than throw whatever he could find into a pan and call it stew but on a good day he’d make his own pasta and pastry, he’d bake cookies just for the hell of it, he’d even started making his own bread, just because he could. He had several recipe books but his experiments in his youth made him freer with ingredients, and he’d established his own flair in every meal. If Dean made Sam something, especially if he baked Sam something, Sam knew better than to turn up his nose. He knew Dean well enough to know that he wasn’t offering Sam food, he was offering him love on a plate. Dean cared for people by caring for them, by cooking for them and wrapping them up in blankets and stitching up wounds. He didn’t know how to say those things, but at this point, he didn’t really need to.

Dean loved cooking because he loved his family.

Xxx

Sam’s attitude to cooking was less enthusiastic. He had a recipe for tomato rice soup for whenever Dean got sick because Dean was the worst patient ever and would only be certain to eat that one thing if he had so much as a sniffle. He’d cook if he had to but he didn’t really enjoy the process. If left to his own devices, he would rather snack throughout the day on salads and fruit and make use of the state of the art juicer than have three squares. He certainly didn’t have the patience that Dean did for trial and error.

Dean had tried to teach him how to cook, years ago, before he left for Stanford, but whatever he made was never as good as whatever Dean made so he supposed he just stopped trying, especially if Dean insisted on taking over the kitchen anyway because he ‘didn’t trust’ Sam’s choice of food. So Sam didn’t want to drown himself in bacon grease.

He was capable of cooking; he could follow a recipe as well as anyone, and he tried to use healthier substitutions where possible. He hadn’t quite picked up the knack of seasoning though, so most of his dishes came out pretty bland. Dean would still eat them though, taking extra portions and telling him how good it was, even though he was obviously lying through his bulging cheeks, just to make him smile. It always worked.

Sam didn’t mind cooking because it made him remember the good parts of his childhood.

Xxx

Despite not needing to consume food, Cas’ cooking was actually pretty good. Once Dean had shown him how all the appliances worked (since in his first disastrous attempt to surprise the Winchesters with a meal he’d melted a pan, exploded the microwave and set all the danger alarms blaring), and after several months of hawk-like supervision, he was deemed safe enough to have free reign if he chose to. He had avoided their careful questions about why he sometimes chose to, but he saw it in their eyes whenever he presented them with something he’d made.

Castiel considered recipes to be as scripture. If it was written down then it was the ‘correct’ way to make the thing and he grew endlessly frustrated when he couldn’t quite grasp how some things just didn’t come out the way the recipe dictated it should. He wouldn’t even be able to consider a dish until he had every single one of the ingredients listed in the recipe and he measured them out to perfection.

This meant that Cas’ cooking was wildly unpredictable. He didn’t really grasp that there were differences between ovens, and the temperature of one kind might not work so well for another. He also spent more on ingredients than either of the other two, and there were jars of random spices and bottles of specific weird oils and flavourings that Cas had only needed a pinch of (a literal pinch in Cas’ case) and he only cooked the same thing more than once if he was specifically asked to.

He also made the most varied dishes. While Dean’s simple, and hearty home-cooked style was perfected, and Sam’s dishes often had European influences, Castiel’s cooking transcended time and space, he would attempt traditional recipes from the Qing dynasty, and then an 18th century French dessert.

The results weren’t always unpleasant, but were usually very weird. Dean had resorted to making back-up dinners whenever Cas cooked, just in case, though he listened with genuine interest as Cas talked them through the recipe and the modern adaptations made to it over time and who used to eat it and what that said about their social standing.

Cas didn’t understand why the Winchester brothers felt limited to cook within the boundaries of their usual supermarket. After all, he would reason, they ordered Chinese food, did they not? And Italian, and Indian and Thai? Why shouldn’t they make their own? It would be healthier, he would argue to Sam, as they would only be cooking for two, and had no need for the additives or extra ingredients that were more suited to cooking in bulk, and it would be more interesting and appropriate, he’d tell Dean, to learn how other cultures actually made their food, rather than the Americanised, inaccurate copy that was just a phone call away.

They were never convinced, but they also didn’t protest to (most) of his dishes and he took pride in that.

Castiel liked cooking because it connected him even further with humanity.

@winchester-reload

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

#suptober #suptoberart2019 #day 18 #food #family #domestic #cooking #prompt #writing #TibbinsWrites

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sauntered-vaguely-downward · 5 years

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Cooking Classes. Rosa Diaz x Reader

Request by @pentagoniablue Hi! How would you like to write another Rosa x female reader? :) Rosa and reader go to a cooking class together. Reader dragging Rosa there with (empty) promises of sexual favours, kisses and lap dances. They choose a station far from other students since Rosa isn't a fan of other people. After beginning struggles, Rosa ends up enjoying to watch her gf do domestic stuff like baking muffins or making pizza. Reader isn't the tidiest person when she cooks. Some fluff between them.

Rosa did not want to be here. She would have much rather been just about anywhere else than here right now. Rosa was not one for group activities, no, she much prefered solitary jobs and hobbies, but Y/N had been rather persuasive.

“Come on babe, please come do this with me,” she had pouted, pulling Rosa closer to her, a cheeky glint in her eye. “Please come, I’ll make it worth your while later on, I promise,” her lips found Rosa’s neck, gently kissing down. How could Rosa possibly say no to that?

“Fine, I’ll come then.”

So here they were, standing in a queue waiting to sign in for-

“Couples cooking class I presume?” The round woman behind the desk asked.

“Yeah, I prebooked earlier, under Y/L/N and Diaz,” Y/N smiled, holding onto Rosa’s hand. Rosa was still not the happiest to be here surrounded by a mix of old and young overly happy couples, but the smile on her girlfriends face, well she couldn’t help the joy that spread through her as she saw that perfect, bright and beautiful smile.

The plump old lady handed the pair a recipe card and pointed them towards the door marked kitchen. Y/N happily pulled Rosa along just as a child would pull their parent towards their favourite animal at the zoo.

They settled at a countertop in the middle, one that was not surrounded by other people. Rosa didn’t much like being in a room full of chatty other people, she just hoped that none of them would talk to her and that this wouldn’t take too long.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come babe, it means a lot. I know you don’t like this sort of thing but you came and that means so much that you would do that for me,” y/n smiled at Rosa, pulling her in for a kiss. Rosa’s previous anxiousness of being around everyone melted away as their lips moved against each other, the rest of the room disappearing as she melted into Y/N, the feel of her hand on her waist, the taste of her lip balm and lingering toothpaste.

It was only when the teacher of the class came in, chattering away to the class that they broke away, being pulled back into the reality that surrounded them. The teacher explained some basic safety rules, ones Rosa had to try so hard not to scoff at. She’d run with the damn knife if she wanted too. After the (stupid) safety rules had been dealt with, the teacher began to show them the recipe they were going to do today. It was a pizza from scratch with a side of baguette garlic bread, something simple they could always repeat at home.

Once he had demonstrated how to do it, he asked the class to repeat what he had just done, using the recipe card to assist them if they had forgotten any steps.

“You wanna start making the dough with me?” Y/N smiled towards Rosa.

“Sure,” Rosa said plainly. Y/N began to hand Rosa ingredients before helping her pour out the correct amount. Y/N looked happy as she worked away, reading over the ingredients carefully, making sure they had just the right amount. It was a new domestic side of Y/N Rosa hadn’t seen yet as they didn’t yet live together. She knew Y/N liked cooking but whenever she had cooked for her the food had always been ready before Rosa had turned up. It was nice seeing Y/N so happy over something simple. It was nice to just watch as she weighed out ingredients, kneaded the dough, read through the recipe hundreds of times. She was like Rosa’s own little domestic goddess.

“You wanna help with the toppings, we can make it into a face or flowers or whatever,” Y/N always had a childlike glint in her eye, but now it shone brighter than any star. Rosa couldn't help but let her heart melt away as she helped Y/N.

“Let's make a face,” Rosa chuckled, joining in the childishness just for this moment, helping create a smiling face out of peppers, cheese, mushrooms, pepperoni and other tasty treats. When they were done, satisfied with their work, they placed it in the oven. It was only now that either of them realised just how much mess Y/N (and a little bit of Rosa) had made. Flour covered the surface stretching to both ends. Spoons, forks, bowls and more were left scattered across the worktop, the odd splash of red from the sauce hidden in between, a few stray bits of ham or mushroom scattered along the top. They only giggled as they looked around, seeing that they had, in fact, made the most mess.

Neither of them cared too much, cleaning it up was just as fun as making the mess. They splashed each other with water from the sink, chucking the stray ingredients they found at each other. Rosa hadn’t felt this at ease in the company of strangers in a very long time, but Y/N made her feel so free as if nothing else mattered by her.

The small timmer made a little ding, telling them it was time to take both pizza and garlic bread out of the oven. The face had remained intact for the most part, other than an eye that had been lost to the cheesy hair. It tasted surprisingly good, so once the class had finished they boxed the rest of it up, taking it back to Y/N’s car. Rosa climbed into the passenger seat, pizza in hand,

“Thank you for making me go to that,” Rosa said softly, a small smile sneaking onto her lips. “It wasn’t as dumb as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now seeing as you came with me, I think I promised you something in return,” Y/N smirked as she pulled out of the car park. Rosa smirked back. She was so glad she went to that cooking class.

#Rosa Diaz #rosa x fem!reader #Rosa x Reader #rosa #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz x fem!reader #b99 #b99 x reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #reader #reader insert

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little-inkstone · 5 years

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Beauty and the Baker

Prompt: AU, bakery, red, guilty pleasure

Summary: Working as a pastry chef for one of the nicest restaurants in town can be lonely, given the early hours, but that's one of the things Chef Gold likes about it. That is until someone new starts working the early, early shift too, but it seems Gold doesn't mind the company all that much at all.

Rating: NC-17

Recipient: @winterswanderlust

AN: Hello! I was your super secret rumbelle Santa this year! It was really great talking to you and getting to know you! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!

As rude awakenings go there wasn’t one worse than waking up before the alarm went off. Rumbert Gold let out a groan and flopped back onto his pillow when he saw the time displayed on his phones screen. He lay there for a moment wishing he could have spent that minute asleep until his alarm began to chirp its annoyingly cheerful tone. Sighing he stat up and stared blearily at the phone screen.

2:01 AM

Rum groaned again and turned his alarm off and got up; a quick shower and slice of buttered toast later he was on the subway. Day in and day out this was his life. Get up before the sun was up, ride down to the waterfront and then fight with the tricky lock on the door that lead into the state of the art kitchen of one of the swankiest restaurants in the city. An hour after he’d dragged himself out of his bed he was ready for the day just as some people were going to sleep.

After storing his stuff in his staff locker he took a moment to look around the large empty kitchen. Two or so hours ago the kitchen had been bustling with energy as chefs finishing up orders. It would have been a chaotic mess of sounds and smells, pans sizzling with vegetables and meats, the clanking of pans as the plongeur attempted to keep up with the hustle and bustle of a kitchen that needed to be spotless at all times. The Avonlea was high end in every meaning of the word; the only flawed thing in the restaurant was the lock in the back that seemed to refuse to be fixed. That was why they had all of their breads and doughs made fresh every morning.

Now it was silent, the guests were gone, the chefs had left after them, and those that had to clean had soon followed too. It was just him now. This was the way Rum liked it; he’d never been good with people, not like he was with baking. Baking was simple, if something went wrong it was easy to tell where a mistake had been made in the recipe, people were harder. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, but he didn’t know how to talk to them. If it came down to it he’d rather try making a dozen soufflés with a tap-dance recital happening next door then fumble his way through a conversation. That was why the early hours didn’t bother him too much, baking made sense, people did not.

Stretching out his arms, getting ready for a long day of lifting and kneading, Rum opened the state of the art pantry to gather the things he’d need to make the several breads and pastries for the day. In the fridge there were several that needed to rest over night before being finished and baked, he’d deal with them once he had made more to replace them for the next day and then…

The sound of a door opening broke his train of thought and almost made him drop the carton of eggs he was holding. His heart began to race as he backed up in the pantry. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else there. The idea of someone breaking in for money or food crossed his mind and the skin on the back of his neck stood up as anxiety slithered threw him and his stomach sank. The alarm should have gone off if it was a burglar, but not if the back door hadn’t closed, had he checked? Of course he had, he checked every day, or did he forget? Was he thinking of yesterday? He tried to take a deep breath to calm down. It was possible he and another baker had been double scheduled, that had happened once in the past. The only problem with that theory was that all bakers worth their salt and sugar knew that to wear heels on the job and he could hear the distinctive click of heels on the kitchen’s sheet rubber floor. Heels that were heading towards the pantry he was cowering in.

Slowly the heavy pantry door opened and Rum tensed as the intruder stepped into the frame of the door. The woman was dressed rather smartly in a blouse and skirt with her chestnut hair pulled back from her face. She was looking down at a clipboard as she stepped further into the pantry and Rum began to feel weak with relief. This wasn’t a well-dressed burglar; it was the owner and head chef’s daughter. Maurice French had told them she’d be coming back from collage soon and would be helping out with keeping track of inventory and things of that nature. He shifted a little uncomfortably at realizing the daughter of his boss was going to find him hiding in the pantry; no doubt that would be shared with anyone and everyone that would listen, and if he wasn’t fired for being lazy he’d be laughed at by the rest of the staff. It was ridiculous to care about what people he barely saw were saying about him, but now that he was thinking about it he couldn’t stop.

His thoughts were interrupted by the floor creaking under him, causing the woman to look up. They locked eyes and she jumped in surprise with a little squeak escaping between her lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She said, her colour a bit high in her cheeks. “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” Rum replied with a weak smile she returned his smile with one much brighter and stepped a little closer to hold out her hand.

“You must be our baker; I’m Belle French, Chef Maurice’s daughter.” He looked at her hand for a second and then reached out to take it. “It’s so good to meet you.” She said as he did. “Papa told me someone else would be here at 3 but I lost track of time. Sorry again for startling you.”

Words seemed to flow out of Belle in a nonstop rush and Rum was beginning to feel a bit awkward, he wasn’t used to being the centre of attention, especially when that attention was coming from a woman with bright blue eyes that sparkled with verve. They were still shaking hands, but he couldn’t seem to be the first to pull away as she continued to explain who she was. Then finally she broke contact with a self-conscious laugh as she realized they had been shaking hands for longer than was normal.

“I’m sorry, listen to me go on, I haven’t even asked for your name.” Belle said, holding her clipboard to her chest like a shield as her cheeks turned pink.

“Chef Rumbert Gold, at your service.” Rum managed to reply, he could feel his own cheeks beginning to heat.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chef Gold.”

“You can just call me Rum.” He said, the words leaving him before he had a chance to think better of them, the way Belle’s smile widened seemed to make his moment of daring worth it. Clearing his throat he ducked his head. “I should probably get back to work.”

“Oh, of course, I’m so sorry, I should go back to work too.” She seemed somewhat flustered as she turned to leave and then turned back to look at him one last time before leaving the panty. “It was nice to meet you, Rum.” Then she was gone with a little wave.

He returned her wave with one of his own, feeling silly as he did so but being unable to stop himself. Rum wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone like Belle French; her easy smile made him what to return it with one of his own. After just a short conversation he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. He tried to push thoughts of her away and focus on his work, but while he rolled out dough and glazed fluffy pastries with honey his mind strayed to her.

Over the weeks that followed his infatuation only seemed to grow. Belle always stayed late after the restaurant closed so she was there when he came in and soon it became a new part of his routine to spend a few minutes with her talking about anything and everything. It started with simple things, talking about the weather, or lamenting being up so early, but soon their conversations turned to new topics. A favourite of his was when Belle talked about the latest book she was reading, her eyes would light up as she described the world and the people that inhabited it and acted out the story that had her so entranced. More than a few times he’d found a copy of the book she was in the middle of to read for himself, it made the conversations more lively when he was able to make informed replies, or even argue an opinion.

Soon they began taking their breaks at the same time and their conversations drifted from books to more personal things. Belle had noticed he often ended up limping near the end of his shifts and he opened up to her about the accident he’d been in as a younger man that had crushed his ankle. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but something about Belle made him want to share with her. He told her about the brace he had to wear most days so he could stand for so long. She’d reached for his hand across the table after he’d finished telling her his story, he looked up into her bright blue eyes and for the first time in his life he didn’t feel the same shame he always did when thinking about his lame leg.

Every day they talked, and every day he became a little more smitten. Rum knew it wouldn’t amount to anything. Belle was young and vibrant and could have any man she wanted, she wouldn’t give him a second look; and even if by some chance she did feel for him as he felt for her, it wasn’t possible for them to be together. As a co-worker and the daughter of his boss it would be highly inappropriate for them to be in a relationship. He would have to continue being content with their daily discussions, it was enough for him, it was more than he ever expected when their first met.

Rum expected nothing to ever change, until it suddenly did.

He was in the middle of washing his hands up to his elbows between desserts when there was a sudden crash and scream from the dining room where Belle did her work. He turned away from the sink, removing his foot from the lever that replaced the usual faucet. It was handy to keep ones hands clean after taking care to wash them, and in this case it allowed him to dash out of the kitchen without having to take a second to turn off the water.

Rum pushed his way through the door mere seconds after Belle had screamed and found her standing several feet away from a broken light fixture that had fallen from the ceiling. He felt his heart sink as he took in the scene before him. The dining room was a beautiful mix of deep reds and golds, the décor was immaculate, nary a thing out of place most days. Today wasn’t one of those days. If Belle had been sitting one table over she would have been crushed by the heavy light.

“Belle!” He ran to her side, his hands hovering over her as he checked her for injuries. “Are you alright?” Rum asked, some of the fear he felt slipping into his voice. She was still looking at the light and the broken table under it until he touched her shoulder. “Belle?”

“What? Oh, y-yes, I’m okay.” She said, turning to look at him as if he’d broken some kind of trance. “I almost sat there.” Belle told him and he felt his stomach twist at the thought of losing her.

Her eyes seemed to study him for a long moment and then, before he knew it her arms where around him and her lips were against his. Surprise made him freeze and feeling his still lips against hers Belle began to pull away, an apology on her tongue, but he stopped her with a kiss of his own. The kiss was desperate and frantic and a little messy, it was perfect. Rum’s hands trembled as he pulled her closer while they kissed. He had never imagined this would happen, and having it happen so soon after her brush with disaster was too much for him. He could have lost her, he almost had. As he kissed her the thought occurred to him that Belle herself might be overwhelmed by what had just happened.

As he pulled away her lips followed his. “Belle,” He murmured. “You’ve had a shock.”

Belle pulled away herself this time, but her arms still stayed wrapped around his shoulders. “I have, but I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now.”

“Y-you have?” Rum asked. She nodded and he swallowed hard. “I have too.” He admitted.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling; then she was kissing him and he lost sight of her eyes as they closed, but he kept his open. Rum was still unable to believe that Belle was kissing him, that she wanted to kiss him. He savoured the feeling of her in his arms, enjoying the swell of her breasts against his chest and the way she seemed to fit against him perfectly. Belle sighed into his kiss and he let his tongue tease her lips open for him. Both of them moaned as he flicked the tip of his tongue against the roof of her mouth. In return Belle tangled her hands in his hair, letting her nails scratch his scalp; he groaned low in his throat.

Between them his cock pressed insistently against her thigh as she wiggled and then pulled away. His stomach twisted in shame as she left his embrace. He’d ruined it, his body’s excitement had scared her away and now she was going to never let him touch her again. He opened his mouth to apologize but the words got stuck in his throat as she hopped up on the table she’d been sitting at before the light had fallen and pulled him closer to capture his mouth in another fierce kiss. Belle’s legs wrapped around his waist as she did so, her skirt hiking up as she did so. Rum pressed a hand to the table to keep balance as the other one grasped her bare thigh, her nylon stockings only went up past her knees. Moaning again he broke their kiss to presses desperate adulations long her jaw and down her neck, stopping to nibble at a spot that made her gasp and roll her hips against his. His hand was squeezing her thigh now, if he wasn’t careful he’d mark her creamy skin but he couldn’t seem to stop, she drove him mad.

One of Belle hands moved from his hair to grasp his hand on her thigh and began to move it higher up until he could feel the heat from her core through her underwear.

“Rum, touch me.” She said, her voice breathless and needy.

Whimpering helplessly he had no choice but to obey, Belle’s wishes were his command. He was rewarded by a soft whine of his name as he teased her through the cotton of her panties. Rum watched her bite her lower lip as she moved against his hand, trying her best to get him to touch her where she wanted him. He continued his ministrations, trying to drive her as mad as she was driving him. The hand resting on the table moved to grasp her hip and then move up her side, then down again; his other hand mimicking his movements, up almost to her straining desperate bundle of nerves that so needed his attention, and then down to her entrance to circle, then all over again. She felt as strung tight as a bow string, her body quivering in his arms. Working with dough every day gave him strong and sure fingers with total control over how he touched her.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked. It was bold, more daring then he was, but Belle brought out things in him he hadn’t even known he was capable of.

“Yes,” Belle sobbed in want and frustration.

With nary another word he pinched her clit making her whimper, her nails digging into his shoulder as the other returned to his hair to pull. The pain made him gasp but he ignored the siren song of ecstasy and focused on Belle. Rum rubbed her swollen nub as she tensed and shook in his arms, prolong the pleasure he had managed to give her. Her lower lip was red and abused from how hard she had been biting it and he couldn’t help but lean down and take it between his lips for sipping kisses. She kissed him back languidly as her breathing returned to normal and then leaned back to catch her breath.

He felt himself smile as he took in her flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Then she looked at him and smiled mischievously, pulling him back to her for a searing kiss that made his smile fell away as he groaned. Belle’s hands had made their way to the buckle of his pants. His hips bucked against her hands and then hissed as she pulled his cock out from his boxers. She pushed until his pants and underwear were around his ankles and then took grasp of his throbbing member to place her between her legs, with her other hand she pushed aside her underwear and guided him into her molten core. With a shuddering sigh he slowly began to trust deeper into her. He pressed his forehead against hers as he tried to keep himself in check.

Belle tilted her head up and kissed him again. “It’s your turn.” She whispered against his lips.

“Belle,” He moaned. “Oh Belle.”

Shakily Rum began to slowly move deeper into Belle’s welcoming passage. The heat her body threatened to burn him alive, but there would be no sweeter way to go then held in her arms. He was sure he had worked with ovens less scorching then Belle’s kisses and tasted confections less sweet then the airy sounds she made as he used shallow and deliberate thrusts to prolong the pleasure of being with her. With each thrust he panted her name, he couldn’t seem to stop. Every word he’d ever known was replaced with her name as the feel of her surrounding him, holding him, drove him mad. Even at his slow and measured pace he could feel his end racing towards him, to stave off the inevitable Rum rested more weight on his band ankle, the pain letting him focus on bringing Belle more pleasure. Her nails where leaving lines of fire along his scalp again and she sighed and whimpered; she had wrapped her legs around him more tightly at some point and was grinding her hips against his, she urged him on moaning for him to go faster and he complied.

Hearing her gasping his name the warm breath of her words a gentle puff against his ear, was too much for him. Rum was holding onto sanity by a mere thread, soon he would explode from sheer bliss, but he desperately wanted Belle to be there with him too. He moved one his hands that had found its way to her hip down to tease and play with her clit, pulling a low whine from her throat. He felt her hips jerk against his; she was so close, Rum could feel it, her inner walls beginning to flutter around his thrust cock. Shifting his angle he thrust a few more times, it was only a miracle he was able to last until he hit the spot he had been aiming for. Belle tensed in his arms and let out a sob, her inner muscles clamping down on him hard at the same moment he felt his pleasure rip through him. Lights burst behind his eyes as he squeezed them closed and pressed Belle close to his chest, his heart feeling like it would burst out of his chest. When the waves of pleasure began to subside he realized he was breathless like he’d run a marathon.

Rum nuzzled Belle’s cheek, too weak to kiss her as she ran her hands slowly across his back. They stayed together for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of simply being together. When they could finally move without worry of falling down Belle and Rum looked at each other and began to giggle uncontrollably. They shared another kiss and rubbed their noses together.

“Most of my friends have baked goods for a guilty pleasure,” Belle hummed. “But I have the whole baker as mine.”

#Rumbelle Secret Santa #winterswanderlust #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbellesecretsanta #Beauty and the Baker

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