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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

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Just A Taste: Part Two

A/N: So @moodymelanist has been asking for a smutty part two of my chocolate cake thirst trap drabble for a while, and I'm nothing if not a giver, so here we are. Is there any real plot here? No. It's just smut. But did anyone really want plot anyways? ;) Anywho! Happy Day 4 of @nestaarcheronweek! I hope everyone enjoys :)

Part One // Read on AO3

Nesta still isn’t quite sure how she ended up here.

She’s still not sure how she ended up dating Cassian Valdarez.

It had all started when she was three glasses of wine in with Gwyn and Emerie, that stupid TikTok he’d sent her playing on an endless loop in her mind. Her friends, of course, thought the video was both hilarious and amazing, and they had prodded Nesta for any and all information about Cassian, practically feeding her more wine until it loosened her tongue.

Maybe it was being reminded of the way he always seemed to be waiting to walk her home, the way he could make her laugh with his memes and daily texts. Maybe it was all the wine. Maybe it was her friends’ goading. Hell, maybe it really was that damned TikTok. But it had led to Nesta finally biting the bullet and texting him, asking if he wanted to grab drinks some time. He’d agreed before she could backtrack, before she could spiral and talk herself out of it in the morning.

And then getting drinks one night had led to Cassian taking her out for dinner. Which led to letting Cassian press her back against the wall outside her apartment building and kiss her breathless. Which led to brunch together. Which led to a movie and more kissing. Which led to Nesta letting Cassian press her back into the mattress…

And now, here she sits, on the kitchen island in Cassian’s apartment, watching as he fiddles with a large ring light. She has to admit, it’s quite the sight. His hair is scraped back away from his face and piled into a bun at the back of his head. He has on a tight-fitting white tee, the cut showing off his bulging arms, the swirls of dark ink that wind around his biceps and down his forearms. His black jeans are equally form-fitting, and Nesta has never been more thankful for a man who can both cook and never skips leg day.

“See something you like, Nes?” Cassian’s voice pulls Nesta from her staring.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nesta fires back, even as her heart skips a beat at being caught.

Cassian laughs, the sound warm and booming within the walls of the kitchen. It prickles along Nesta’s skin and settles deep into her bones until she has to bite back a smile. Something about the sound always puts her at ease, feels a little bit like home, and she’s long since given up on trying to deny the fact it’s one of her favorite sounds.

With the ring light set up how he wants it, Cassian finishes gathering the ingredients he’ll need, laying them out neatly along the countertop. Each time he passes by Nesta’s perch to get to the pantry, to the refrigerator, he touches her. A brush of knuckles against her arm. A hand to her knee. A slide of fingers along her thigh. She’s not even sure it’s a conscious decision, or just some thrumming need from deep within his soul that needs to always know she’s near, but it has embers flickering to life in her chest regardless.

Everything ready to go, Nesta watches as Cassian finally digs his phone out of his pocket. She waits for him to place it in the ring light as he always does, but instead, his thumb slides across the screen. With each passing second, his lips tug down deeper into a frown, grip tightening where he’s holding his phone.

“Cassian?” Nesta broaches, leaning forward and trying to peer at the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cassian dismisses with a shrug. “Just reading some of the latest comments on the last video we did together. Do more videos with your sexy girlfriend. Girlfriend reveal when? She’s all I care about. Whose dick do I have to suck for a video with just your hot girlfriend. Are these people serious?”

“You can’t actually be jealous of a bunch of faceless people on an app,” Nesta teases, pressing her lips firmly together to keep from laughing at his obvious distress over this.

“I’m not jealous,�� Cassian fires back too quickly.

Nesta hums, unconvinced. He may be able to always read her, but she can read him too, and she can see it in the bunch of his shoulders, the pinch at the corners of his mouth. Cassian snaps his head toward her at the sound, his expression unimpressed. He stalks closer to her, settling easily between her legs. His hands slide up her thighs, over her hips, before settling at her waist, the large spread of them spanning entirely there. One tug has Nesta sliding to the edge of the kitchen island, her legs wrapping around his hips.

“What’s there to be jealous of?” Cassian asks, that cocksure smirk of his pulling across his face. “I’m the one with the most beautiful, smartest, wittiest, most badass woman in my kitchen.”

“That must be so hard for you,” Nesta taunts, even as her cheeks flood with heat at the compliment.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.”

Cassian leans in and closes the distance between them, slotting his lips with Nesta’s. He wastes no time pressing against the seam of her lips, and Nesta moans into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing closer still, until they’re flush together. It still leaves her as breathless as the first time, feeling the heat of him where they’re pressed together, where his hands grip her, her senses flooded and overwhelmed with everything that is him as their lips move in tandem.

Cassian’s lips nip into her bottom lip, tugging gently, and Nesta is like a puppet on a string, following him forward with another soft moan. She feels Cassian’s chuckle more than she hears it, his breath fanning out across her skin. When she finally blinks open her eyes again, Cassian’s gaze is already pinned on her, the hazel of them blazing.

“I thought I was promised dessert,” Nesta murmurs.

“My apologies,” Cassian drawls, daring to steal another sweet kiss. “Let me remedy that right now.”

Cassian drops his hands from around her and steps back, and Nesta tries to taper down her shiver at the loss of his warmth. At least, she gets to watch him work. Watch him spin the pan around, somehow making it look small in his hands. Watch him squeeze the egg yolks between his fingers. Watch him grip into the dough and knead it with the heel of his hand. It has those embers burning into flames and licking through Nesta’s veins, heat pooling low and her heart starting to kick up between her ribs.

She never knew that baking could be like this.

Never knew that things with Cassian could feel like this.

By the time Cassian has finished mixing up the chocolate filling, moving the bowl and his phone over to the kitchen island, Nesta has to swallow hard around her heaving breaths, has to press her thighs together. She swears she can feel the electricity in the air, between them, buzzing and sparking with anticipation.

Cassian swirls two fingers through the chocolate concoction, holding them up to Nesta’s lips. “Needs the seal of approval from my taste tester.”

Nesta opens her mouth and closes her lips around Cassian’s fingers. The sweet taste of chocolate blooms across her tongue, and her eyes flutter closed. She swirls her tongue around the pads of his fingers, sucking lightly, as she groans at the delicious taste.

“Fuck,” Cassian swears softly, pulling his fingers free. “How am I supposed to keep that clip in now?”

“Aren’t you going to put music over this like all your other videos?”

“Trust me, just the sight alone…”

“Should we do another take then?”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this,” Cassian teases, but he reaches over to stop their current video and re-press record.

He swirls his fingers in the chocolate filling again, holding them up toward Nesta. Once again, she slides her tongue over the digits, lapping off the chocolate, and sucks them into her mouth. But this time, Cassian is quick to pull his fingers free, replacing them with his lips against her own. He pushes his tongue against hers, and Nesta greedily swallows down his groan.

Cassian’s hands find Nesta’s knees, pushing her thighs apart so he can sidle up between them. Those hands slide up and back, fingers digging into her ass and dragging her forward. Nesta reaches her own hands up and pulls the hair tie from Cassian’s hair, finally burying her fingers amongst the strands and tugging the way she knows he likes. Cassian pulls back, but it’s just to latch his lips to Nesta’s neck. She tilts her head to give him better access, and when his teeth nip into the skin above her pulse point, there’s no stopping the gasp that tumbles past her lips.

“Cassian,” Nesta moans softly, her eyes flicking toward his phone. “Is your phone still recording?”

“So what if it is?” Cassian asks, raising his head again. His palm raises to cradle her face, thumb dragging across Nesta’s bottom lip. “I bet you’d like that too, wouldn’t you? Should I go live? Let all my followers see how you beg for my cock?”

Nesta barely swallows down a whimper at his words. She refuses to be the one to break, refuses to give in despite the way her body craves it, pleads for it, desperate for the release she knows Cassian can give her. Instead, she raises her chin, meets his heated gaze head on.

"I was promised dessert," Nesta reminds him.

"Maybe it's me who wants dessert now."

Cassian makes quick work of the zipper of Nesta's dress, gently pulling at the straps and skirts until it's a pool of fabric on his kitchen floor. Her bra soon follows, and then Nesta is splayed out in just the black lace panties she wore just for him. His eyes rake over her, and Nesta feels it like a phantom touch, her body practically aching to meet it. She feels powerful watching the way his throat bobs, the way he licks his lips, the way those hazel eyes darken. For all the effect he has on her, there's something indescribable in seeing it reflected back, in knowing he’s just as desperate. She wants to watch him unravel and come undone at her feet and know she’s the cause.

“Fuck, you're so gorgeous,” Cassian says, his voice full of awe. “Definitely good enough to eat.”

Cassian's mouth drops to her breast, and Nesta can't find an ounce of shame over how loud her moan is. He swirls his tongue around her nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive skin teasingly, and Nesta arches up against him, grinding her hips where they're still pressed together. The pop when Cassian pulls away is obscene, almost as obscene as his feline grin.

“Sweet, but not sweet enough.”

Before Nesta can ask what that means, he steps away from her and walks over to his refrigerator. When he turns back around, there's a can of whipped cream in his hand, a wide smirk tugged across his face. He pops the lid off and gives the can a shake, a silent question in the way he raises an eyebrow. Nesta leans back onto her elbows, the answer in her expectant expression.

Carefully, Cassian sprays whipped cream across Nesta's chest and stomach, and she can't help but snort when she glances down. “A 'C'? Really?”

“Don't want anyone thinking you're anything other than mine.”

Cassian sets the can aside and leans down, his tongue following the path of the whipped cream. He pauses from time to time, dragging out the sensual feel of his mouth against her skin. His tongue presses and swirls, a promise of what’s to come, and his teeth leave bruises and love bites scattered in that same C pattern, a branding. By the time his lips are closing around her breast again, Nesta feels like she’s coming out of her skin, knows that it won’t take much more for her to go crashing over that edge.

Despite there being no whipped cream there, Cassian licks a line up Nesta’s neck, sealing their lips back together. She can taste the sweetness still clinging to his mouth, that hint of the whipped cream. Her hands reach down for Cassian’s shirt, tugging at the hem until he finally gets the message and steps back, pulling the offending fabric off and tossing it to the growing pile. Nesta licks her lips, sliding her hands down his chest and stomach, scraping her nails against his skin and relishing in the way he shudders, the way his eyes flutter closed for a moment. She expects him to press in close again, to kiss her again, but instead Cassian smirks.

“I think it’s time for a second dessert,” Cassian tells her, sinking to his knees. “My favorite dessert.”

The slide of his calluses over Nesta’s ankles, her calves, her knees, leave a blazing trail of goosebumps in their wake. His fingers dig into her thighs, yanking her to the very edge of the kitchen island until Nesta has to brace her hands behind her to keep from falling off. Those deft fingers of his find the waistband of her panties next, slowly pulling them down and off before Cassian settles her legs over his shoulders.

“You’re already practically dripping, sweetheart,” Cassian groans, pressing hot kisses along the inside of her thigh. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” Nesta breathes, reaching a hand down to bury Cassian’s hair.

“And only me, right?” Cassian asks, the dark promise in his eyes as he stares up at her making her clench.

“Yes.”

“That’s right, Nes. No one else makes you as wet as I do. No one else can make you feel as good as I can.”

“Prove it,” Nesta dares to challenge.

Cassian lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, and then his mouth is on her. Nesta knows there's nothing really to prove, knows exactly what he's capable of with his mouth, but damn if it doesn't feel like he took her taunt to heart with the way he devours her. He feasts like a man starved, groaning and sending vibrations along her clit with every broad stroke of his tongue. He swirls his tongue the way he knows she likes, plays her body like a old, familiar piano, and Nesta knows she won't last much longer. Especially not with the way she’s already wound up from all the teasing from the whipped cream.

When Cassian sinks two fingers into her, sucking her clit between his lips at the same moment, Nesta shatters, thighs squeezing his ears and a half choked out moan spilling from her lips. Cassian works her through it, and Nesta tries to catch her breath, but he doesn't stop. His tongue continues to lap at her, his fingers starting to pump in and out.

"Cassian," Nesta moans, bowing forward as he crooks his fingers, a pliant puppet on his strings.

"That's it," Cassian praises when Nesta clenches around his fingers, already climbing dangerously higher dangerously fast. "Let me make you feel good. Let me show you I’m the only one. Let me prove it to you."

The way he curls his fingers again as he says 'prove it' has Nesta whimpering, but it quickly gives way to a gasp when Cassian presses in a third finger, dropping his mouth’s attention back to her clit. She tries to shift her hips as best she can while perched on the kitchen island. Tries to rock against his hand, to press against his face. Her every nerve ending burns, the over stimulation somehow too much and not enough at the same time.

"Let go, Nes. Want to feel your cunt squeezing my fingers. Want to see that pretty flush of yours again while you come all over my face."

Nesta tries to hold out, tries to delay the inevitable, just to be difficult, just to prove a point, but Cassian redoubles the effort of his fingers, of his mouth. Nesta isn't sure if this is heaven or hell, but she's not sure she wants it to stop. She shatters with a scream, the force of her second orgasm curling her toes. Thankfully, Cassian gives her a reprieve while she comes down from the high, moving his mouth to press soothing kisses to her inner thigh instead.

“Kiss me,” Nesta demands breathlessly, her chest still heaving with the aftershocks of coming twice so quickly.

Cassian is all too happy to oblige. He stands back up and molds their mouths together, his hands gently cradling Nesta’s face. She moans softly at the taste of herself on his tongue, at finally feeling the warm weight of him pressed against her again. When he finally pulls back, Nesta needs a moment before she blinks open her eyes again, still feeling dazed and so sated.

Cassian chuckles softly, pressing his forehead to hers. “Need a break, Nes?”

“No," Nesta argues, meeting that fire in his hazel eyes. "I want the dessert I was promised.”

“Then be a good girl and get on your knees.”

“Make me.”

Cassian's hand moves so his fingers curl around her throat, squeezing gently. It's not enough to close off her airway, but it is enough to have her eyes rolling back in her head, sparks skittering down her spine.

"If you keep acting like a brat, I'm going to punish you like one," Cassian warns lowly, the squeeze of his hand a thrilling promise. “You can walk around with my bruises around your throat and then everyone will really know who you belong to, won’t they?”

Nesta lets out a choked off whimper at his words, heating swirling in her gut at the idea of that. It’s tempting, so tempting. But she still wants what she was promised.

"Now, are you going to be my good girl?"

Nesta tries her best to nod around his grip, and satisfied with her answer, Cassian finally releases it and steps back. Nesta slides down off the kitchen island and onto her knees, reaching her hands up to undo the button of Cassian's jeans. She shoves his jeans and boxers down his thighs in one go, licking her lips as she takes in his cock, already weeping in anticipation. She wraps her hand around him, stroking once, twice, twisting her wrist in the way that always has him groaning.

She leans forward, tongue out and ready, when an idea strikes her. She glances over her shoulder and back toward the kitchen island, spying the can of whipped cream still sitting there. When she looks back up at Cassian, he's already smirking, clearly having followed her gaze. He shifts so he can grab the can, shaking it and spraying a line along his shaft.

"Better clean me up."

Nesta doesn't need to be told twice. She licks the line of whipped cream, groaning softly at the sugar sweet taste and pulling back to swallow the whipped cream down. Urged on by Cassian’s answering goran, she licks the line again to ensure she got it all before sucking the tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue.

"That's my fucking good girl. Look at you, sucking me so good. So fucking beautiful like this. And you’re all mine, aren’t you, sweetheart?"

Nesta moans at the praise, slackening her jaw to make more of him. She starts to bob her head, working what she can't fit with her hand. She can feel tears starting to prickle in the corners of her eyes, but she doesn't care, blinking up through her eyelashes at Cassian. His own gaze is already pinned on her, the heated look on his face making Nesta moan again.

“That’s enough," Cassian says suddenly, pulling her off of him. "If I’m going to come, it’s going to be in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Nesta slowly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, not taking her eyes off him. “Then take me to bed.”

“Is that what you want, Nes?”

“Yes.”

Cassian leans down, his hand cradling Nesta's jaw, barely a breath between them. “Then beg for it.”

“Please…" Nesta tells him, clambering to her feet and sliding her hands up Cassian's chest. "Please, fuck me, Cassian.”

“Aching to be filled, sweetheart?”

“Yes. I need it. Need you. No one else fucks me the way you can.”

It’s the right thing to say. Cassian crashes their lips together, his hands gripping her thighs as he hoists her off her feet. The walk from the kitchen to Cassian's bedroom is blessedly short, and before Nesta knows it, he's tossing her down amongst the blankets. She shifts until she's comfortable against the pillows, Cassian digging around in his side table drawer until he's pulling out a condom.

He clambers up onto the bed and settles between Nesta's spread legs, grabbing one of the pillows and sliding it under her hips. He leans over her, and Nesta takes a moment to reach her hands up, gently brushing the strands of hair out of Cassian's face and behind his ears. He closes the distance between them, this kiss softer, sweeter.

"Make me yours," Nesta whispers against his lips.

Cassian groans, but he shifts to line himself up. Nesta wraps her legs around his hips, and then he’s sinking in, both of them moaning. Nesta isn't sure she'll ever get over the stretch of him, the feel of him so deep, and when he starts to move his hips, she never wants him to stop.

"Fuck, nothing feels as good as your gripping me," Cassian tells her, building up a steady pace with his strokes. "My perfect girl. My good girl, taking me so well."

"Cassian, fuck…" Nesta moans, raising her hips to meet every thrust, her nails digging into his shoulder blades.

"Love hearing you say my name. Want you to scream it. Let everyone know how good I fuck you. How I'm the only one who can fuck you like this."

Cassian starts to snap his hips harder, pressing in deeper still, and Nesta can do nothing but moan and hold on, her whole body alight, another release already glimmering within reach. His hand slips between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit with ease, drawing circles in time with his thrusts. It doesn't take much longer for Nesta to give into Cassian's request, practically screaming his name as her third orgasm of the evening sends her arching up against him.

"God's, you're so gorgeous like this, so beautiful," Cassian murmurs, hips still working her through it.

A few more thrusts and Cassian finds his own release, burying his face in Nesta's neck and groaning. They lay tangled up together, catching their breaths. Nesta swears she can feel Cassian's heart where their chests are pressed together, swears her own heart leaps to match the beat.

After a few more moments pass, Cassian kisses where his lips are resting and pulls back. His lips press to her forehead, each cheek, before finding home against hers. Nesta sighs happily against him, gently carding her fingers through his hair.

"We should probably shower," Cassian offers quietly, a sly grin pulling across his face. "Clean off any whipped cream residue."

Nesta can't help but laugh at that, Cassian's grin widening at the sound. He climbs off Nesta and the bed, hands curling around her ankles, and tugging her with him. Nesta lets out a squeal of surprise at the sudden movement, but before she can kick out or try and fight Cassian off, he pulls her back into his arms, carrying her out of the bedroom.

"I know you're probably feeling real proud of yourself right now, but I can still walk, you know," Nesta teases, fondly rolling her eyes.

"Is that another challenge, Nes?"

Nesta smacks at Cassian's shoulder rather than respond, but Cassian just laughs, setting her down in the bathroom. They jump through the shower together, and when Nesta pads back into the bedroom, she digs through Cassian's drawers, stealing one of his tees and pulling it on. She loves the way it smells like him, loves the way the hem hits her thighs, the collar slipping down her shoulder.

She's more than happy to climb back into bed, to burrow beneath the blankets, and she smiles when she feels the mattress dip behind her. Cassian curls around her, his arm slung over her waist and chest pressed along her spine. He tilts his head and presses a series of sweet kisses to her exposed shoulder, to the smattering of freckles there. It's one of his favorite places to kiss her, Nesta has noticed.

"Give me five minutes and I'll finish making that chocolate dessert for you," Cassian promises against her skin.

Nesta reaches down and tugs his arm more securely around her, sighing happily. "Make it ten."

And if the next afternoon, they record a video of Cassian pressed up behind Nesta, of them smiling and laughing while he teaches her to bake the perfect chocolate chip cookies, earning a flood of couple goals, when will it be my turn, and hate to see others living my dream, then maybe Nesta doesn’t mind that she ended up here after all.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nestaweek2023 #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

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ereardon · 8 months

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HOW HAS NOBODY REQUESTED JAKE & VICTORIA YET?!

Please feed me any fluffy, squishy morsel you’re willing to provide 😂

My heart wants sweet elopement and cute, brilliant babies lol, but I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea!

Ahhhhh I have SUCH a soft spot in my heart for Jake and Victoria!!

Thanks for sending an anniversary celebration request! Where we left off in the epilogue, they had gotten married and Peach was graduating from her PhD program. They also had a two-year old named Paul, so here's a little snippet that takes place after where we left them in the epilogue!

"Peach? Honey, are you home?"

"In here!"

You turned as Jake entered the kitchen, Paul trailing behind on his tiny legs, face smeared in chocolate.

You laughed, bending down and beckoning him closer, taking a rag from the counter and wiping his face. "Let me guess, chocolate banana?"

Jake shrugged. "What can I say? He begged for it."

You stood up and leaned in, kissing Jake gently. "You're his dad, you know. You can say no, it's allowed."

"How can you say no to that face?" Jake asked, ruffling his son's hair with one giant hand before Paul took off toward the built-in breakfast nook, picking right back up on a coloring book he had left there before the two of them went out for their daddy-son date.

"I can say no to anyone," you replied, turning back to the counter and pouring a cup of coffee. Your hand shook a little.

Jake snuggled up against your back, lips close to your ear. "You didn't say no last month, that night when Caroline came over to babysit and we had dinner at that French restaurant on Eighth Street."

You blinked, turning around slowly. "I know I didn't."

Jake frowned. "Honey? What's wrong."

You dug into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out the white plastic stick. "This is what not saying no gets you."

Jake took it from your hands, eyes lighting up. "You're pregnant?"

You nodded.

His eyes sparkled. You hadn't expected for it to happen so soon. Paul was only four, you had only two years of teaching at Brown under your belt. But Jake was ready. He had been ready since the first time they placed Paul in his arms at the hospital in New Haven. He was born to be a father.

Jake put the test down on the counter and slid one hand beneath your chin, tilting your eyes to him.

"If you don't want to do this, we don't," he murmured. "But we always did say we'd give Paul a brother or sister some day."

"Are we ready?" you whispered.

"Peaches," Jake said softly, winding his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer. "It's up to you. But for the record, I think you're the best mom that ever existed. And you're the only person I would want to be a parent with. You make it look easy, even when it isn't. You try so hard to make every single day special for Paul. And I love you for that."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, nodding gently. "We're having another baby." It was a surprised whisper.

Jake leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. When he pulled back, he was grinning from head to toe. "Paul, buddy, come here a second."

Paul jumped off of the seat and Jake crouched down so he was eye level with his son.

"Guess what, sweetheart?" he said. "You're going to be a big brother!"

Paul looked up with wide green eyes. "A baby brother?" he asked.

You laughed. "We're not sure yet, honey. Could be a baby sister, too."

Jake reached out, placing one hand on your still flat stomach. "They're right in there though. How cool is that?"

Paul ambled over, reaching up and touching your stomach. "Hi baby."

You choked back a set of tears. The hormones were already coming in hot.

"Can I name the baby?" Paul asked.

"Sure," Jake said, just as you said, "No."

The two of you caught eyes and you laughed. "Jake! He's four. He's going to name the baby truck or Cocomelon."

Jake shrugged, fingers still hot on your abdomen. "Remember what we said about saying no?" he asked.

You shook your head with a sigh and a smile. A tear slid out of the corner of your eye as Paul leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your stomach. "I'm going to name you chocolate banana," he whispered.

#jake hangman fic #jake seresin #anniversary celebration

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slytherinshua · 1 year

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For You, My Love

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. valentine's day special. 1920s au. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: kisses. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 593. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: another masterpiece from my bestie eternalgyu!! so this is not written by me, but by her!! we hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, February 13, 1923

Beomgyu sighed. He was stuck in the rowdy country club alone with a bunch of older men on the night of Valentine's day.

Well, that was partly true. He was with his 3 friends, but they were with their sweethearts. Soobin was teaching his significant other the waltz on the dance floor; Yeonjun and his lady friend were at the bar area - tipsy and giggling at each other; Taehyun and his lover were reading on opposite sides of the room, and would secretly blow kisses to each other when no one was looking.

It’s not that Beomgyu was lonely— he was actually the first person to start courting within his circle of friends. You were supposed to be here with him, dancing with him, feeding each other chocolate, and all the other lovey dovey things that couples did on Valentines.

But, no. Your parents had swept you away 2 weeks ago for a surprise trip to Europe. You had told him you'd be back by Valentine's day, and had given him your emerald ring, "For safe-keeping, my love." You had said, with a kiss on his cheek.

Beomgyu grazed his fingers lightly on his cheek. He missed you more than anything, but a few days ago you sent him a telegram that your parents had decided to extend their stay. Beomgyu was devastated to say the least. He had planned a trip to the new skating rink that had opened up - the one you had been talking about almost every day when it was in construction. But now, there was no hope that he’d be able to take you there.

"Taehyun, tell the others I’m leaving to go back home." Beomgyu said.

"Oh-" Taehyun looked at his pocket watch and grinned followed with an, "Of course, I'll tell them."

Beomgyu walked back to his house. His lights were on, which was strange because he knew his parents were away on a business trip. He shrugged it off, thinking it was his other friend Kai. He always came over to play board games with him.

Beomgyu walked into the parlour and found no one there. On the sofa he found a single rose and a note. "For you, my love. Meet me at our secret place" it read, and Beomgyu didn't need to be told twice.

He ran to the gardens at the back of his house. You two had met up secretly there multiple times, had picnics, skipped instrument classes and many more all in this spot.

He pushed the brass gate open and was met with you in a pink and white sundress. The moment you two met eyes, you both ran and collided together in a hug.

Beomgyu's heart was racing and he wondered if you could feel it, "Y/n, I missed you so much. Why didn't you tell me? I was supposed to surprise you-" You silenced him by pressing your lips against his.

"That's not important right now," You said, putting your forehead against his, "I'm here now, and that's all that matters." You pulled a small box out of your pocket. "For you, my love," You passed it over to him. "It’s a pendant with my photo in it." You showed him the one on your neck, "My one has a picture of you." You said, smiling.

Beomgyu looked down at you, his eyes gleaming, "I love you more than anything Y/n." He said, and leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you too darling." You whispered, pressing your lips to his.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ txt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @90steele,, @ddenoudepression

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authornina · 3 years

Text

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know.

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already.

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car.

“Nothing.”

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.”

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie.

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!”

“You need Jesus!”

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.”

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!”

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!”

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman.

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!”

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.”

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.”

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways.

“I lay with you too.”

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing.

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted.

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started.

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass!

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit!

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old.

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.”

“I ain’t wit no bitch.”

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.”

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.”

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.”

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.”

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.”

“Like what?”

“Shit.”

“You lyin’.”

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.”

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!”

“Who ugly, Mansion?”

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.”

“I told her that.”

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!”

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?”

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!”

“What she do that damn fast?”

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!”

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building.

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending.

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?”

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—”

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!”

“They don’t wanna see you.”

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby.

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!”

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.”

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back.

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it.

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely.

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.”

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?”

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

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bimsha · 3 years

Text

How They Propose You

Sano Manjiro /Mikey:

When Mikey took you to a grand restaurant instead of your usual street filled with street food, you were suspicious. You knew something must be up, but with Mikey, you never realized until it was the last minute. But the whole thing was fancy for both of you. Your eyes kept darting around all the beautifully dressed customers and the elegant waiters taking orders and rushing around. When the dessert came, you had let go of all your initial suspicions. The dessert was so good that you cleared the plate in mere seconds ignoring the very existence of your boyfriend. You looked up at him to compliment him for the grand dinner when you noticed the horrified expression of the blonde.

“Y/n, you ate the whole thing?”

“Yeah?” You answered, frowning. What’s the big deal?

“Oh my god” He said, now looking petrified for some reason. That expression was a first. He got up from his seat and rounded the table to get a clear look at your plate. At this point, you were being embarrassed. He crouched next to you, looking worried. “Do you feel weird or sick? Do you want to throw up? Should we go to a hospital?”

You sighed, "Mikey." You leaned closer to his ear so that the high class people wouldn't hear your beautiful language. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/n” He whispered back, “There was a ring in the dessert. I asked the waiter to put it in there.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “What?” You blurted out. You could care less about manners now. “You fed me a ring? Wait, I didn’t even know? I didn’t feel any different?”

“I was trying to propose!” Mikey countered, looking awfully sad. “I didn’t know you’d eat the ring too”

They had drawn a lot of attention. “Well, if there was a ring I should’ve felt it. I didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t there?” After a beat of silence you added, “Right?” But a corner of your mind was telling you there's actually a chance. You were a sucker for all those chocolate desserts. But a ring? No way… right?

Now you both were looking at each other with hopeless expressions thinking maybe Mikey would’ve killed you in the process of propsing and the murmurs were growing loud around you when a waiter walked in. They stopped right by their table, “Sir, I’m here to apologize. Our chef has mistakenly and forgot to put the ring on your dessert” He handed a surprised Mikey the ring, bowing deeply.

“Oh my god” Mikey sighed in relief, “I didn’t kill my girlfriend trying to propose her”

You sighed in relief, “I didn’t eat that thing. Thank god” When you started laughing, finding the whole thing funny, Mikey actually knelt on one knee. The whole restaurant was silent as he asked,

“Y/n, the love of my life, do you want to marry me?”

“Say yes” One of the guys screamed, “He didn’t feed you the ring. That man is worth it”

You flushed but offered your hand with a matching smile, “This is the best proposal ever”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “There goes my romantic dinner and proposal. But A for trying.”

You couldn’t tell anything otherwise else, because he deserved an A for trying.

Kazutora Hanemiya:

It was a cold winter morning and your boyfriend Kazu asked you to come to the park for an emergency. And there you were, rubbing your hands together trying to get rid of the coldness while waiting for your boyfriend to give him a good ass kicking for leaving you in the snow. You waited for a while, and instead of Kazutora, a little boy around seven appeared from the entrance and ran straight towards you. Something glistened in his hands. Then, he frowned, looking at you from head to toe. That’s when you realize he was actually holding onto a ring. Where did he get that? “Miss, would you like to marry me?” The youngster asked with so much determination that you almost laughed.

You were about to answer, when a familiar figure ran up to them. Kazutora didn’t pay any attention that you were there. He launched at the boy, trying to get the ring in his hand. “You little prick, I told you not to touch that! And she’s my girlfriend, back off”

You stared at them as they wrestled in the snow. Kazutora caught the little guy in a headlock and fished the ring out of his hands. “Got it!” He cheered.

“Uh Kazu? What’s going on here?”

He looked at you with an exasperated sigh. “This brat ruined everything. I had something to ask you.” He looked flustered, “But he stole-” He groaned, “Go back home.” He said to the boy. “I swear I’m going to buy you that whatever the shit you like”

The boy looked uncertain for a moment. He reached out his pinky, “Promise?”

Kazutora sighed, and sent the boy off. He stood up and dusted off the snow from his pants. You waited patiently when he went, “That’s my little cousin. He thought it would be funny to propose you.”

You laughed, “And why is that?”

Kazutora shrugged, fidgeting with the ring and looking at you. “Because I may or may not have been staring at your photo and practicing everything” He averted his gaze, abashed. “I had this all planned out. I’m going to ruin that brat!”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m still here”

He looked at you earnestly and took a step close. “We’ve been through a lot together. I may not have been the best boyfriend to you but I really love you Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you. Want to share your life with me for the rest of our lives?”

You offered your hand as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Of course” He slipped the ring to your finger with his own eyes sparkling with tears. You scowled.

“You’re not the one who’s supposed to cry!”

He grinned, leaning in and pecking your lips. “I’m just so happy you said yes” He said, picking you up and twirling you around. Both of you fell back to the snow, thinking about a lifetime of memories together.

Mitsuya Takashi:

You were casually sitting inside his work place, watching him designing another costume. Other times, you asked questions, but this time, you remained silent watching him work. There was a way Mitsuya worked when he was in here. He was graceful and confident. It was a sight to see. “Y/n” He called, taking your attention. “Can you come here for a sec?”

You frowned, but did as you were asked. When you reached him, he immediately started taking your measures, jotting down each. It was normal for him to make clothes for you but this was the first time he was doing it without asking about the design or showing you a picture. “What’s it?”

Mitsuya gestures at the mess of white cloth beside him. “An order came asking me to make a wedding dress, I took the measures for future use” He grinned, pulling out something from his pocket. You stared at the velvet box as he opened it. A ring glistening inside. “Y/n” His voice was smooth. He took a step closer.

You just watched him, surprised as he knelt on one knee. “I’ve always wanted a life with you. I’ve dreamed about it many times. Would you let my dreams come true and be my soulmate for the rest of my life?”

You said yes and watched as he slipped the gold band to your finger. “You literally took the measurement to my future wedding dress before asking? I’m gonna remember that Takashi?”

He stood up and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Just had to set up the vibe.” He said, looking at the white cloth draped along the counter. “You’re going to look beautiful in a wedding dress. I should start working on it”

Baji Keisuke:

One thing you liked about Baji was that he said the weirdest shit sometimes. Like right now. Both of you had your own respected soda cans in your hands while he suddenly uttered, “You know, marrying is weird”

You huffed, “And that is because?”

“Like listen. Two people are like, okay we love each other. Let’s get the whole government involved and make it official so we can actually make babies and spend time together.” He scowled, taking a sip. “That’s just fucked up”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Now that you’ve said it, it does sound fucked up”

He put the soda can away and pulled out a silver band, looking at him with his serious look. “Should we get the government involved too?”

You looked at the ring, back at his face but decided to play along. “We should totally get the government involved in all our shit” When you offered your hand, he easily slipped the ring in. He reached down and kissed it, looking at you adoringly. “That was the most funniest, and the ridiculous proposal I have ever heard.”

Baji shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. “That was the best proposal, I know you think so too”

“Ridiculous doesn’t mean I don’t like it. You’re right, that’s the best proposal”

Bonus:

The two of you decided to announce your engagement to the rest of the gang. Baji confidently stood in front of them, your hand in his, holding onto tightly when he announced. “We’re going to get the government involved”

You cracked up, looking at the other’s expressions, they had no clue what was going on. Chifuyu actually looked like he understood. “Congratulations!” The younger said, beaming. "When is the wedding?”

The realization dawned upon them and soon they were all gasping for their breaths, calling out for water and literally dying on the floor.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

When Chifuyu asked whether you wanted to hang out at his place, it didn’t strike you as anything odd. You two often hung out at each other’s places when your parents were away. He usually kept the door unlocked and you walked in. It was the same that Sunday morning but after you walked in you realized that actually it was pretty weird. Your boyfriend was there, kneeling in front of his refrigerator. Hold up, was that a ring? Is he proposing the fridge? He looked really serious as he took a long breath, opening the box as if he was in a movie. You watched quietly, the moment was too golden to interrupt. He picked the gold band carefully out of the box and held it in front of the fridge. “Y/n, you’re amazing. You’re the best person I have ever met in my life” He was saying to the fridge, “It’s a miracle I found you. Do you want to be mine? Marry me, please?”

The fridge didn’t answer. OF COURSE. The problem would be if it actually answered. He looked satisfied with the practice. That’s when you decided to break it to him and actually clear your throat. The poor guy jumped out of his skin and stared at you horrified. His gaze shifting between the fridge and you. “Are you cheating on me? With that thing?”

He flushed, his ears going pink. “Y/n! Did you- I mean when did-” He groaned, flopping to the floor like a kicked puppy. “Everything’s ruined”

“I’m sorry” You tried, trying to suppress your laughter. “Let’s try again. We go back in time.”

He looked at you to see whether you’re joking and solemnly nodded. “You should be in the character”

You nodded, and closed the door. And this time, you knocked on the door. Your heart was pumping with excitement. Despite the fact you were supposed to act like you don’t know what's going to happen, you were thrilled. Chifuyu opened the door. Despite his defeated look earlier, he seemed to have gained back some of his courage. He didn’t wait until he let you in. He just knelt right there, holding up the ring. He looked a little bit too excited to get the whole speech out as he just blurted, “Please marry me?”

You laughed, “Of course!” He slipped the ring into your finger and stood. Before you could comment, he connected your lips, kissing you right there, with your hands stopped in mid air in surprise. He pulled back with a cocky grin.

“I added an extra surprise element”

You scoffed, “Never going to get over the fact your proposal speech to the fridge was better”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

You grinned, “Never! I’m going to tell our grandchildren that his grandfather proposed to a fridge. The story must go on!”

He groaned, “You’re just mean” He pulled you in, closing the door behind you. “But I love you.”

You hummed with a smile, “I love you too, you big dork”

I don't know why I did this but I did this so get it. I might do some more later. This is fun (":

#propose #tr #tokyo revengers #Mikey #Sano Manjiro #Bimsha writes #Drabbles #oneshot #mitsuya hcs #Kazutora #Baji #Chifuyu #Kinda Crack #x you #xy/n #drabbles

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murderslugs · 3 years

Text

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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1engele · 3 years

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daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 2. math

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[warnings: cursing, mention of smoking, mention of household abuse of a teenager]

"what a plot twist you were."

—

The next day, you'd wakened with dry lungs and an even drier mouth.

It was true that smoking was bad for you—but it hadn't been as horrible as you'd thought. You'd try it again, but you couldn't see yourself becoming addicted.

Your mother wasn't home, again. You were quick to understand that she worked longer shifts now and you wouldn't see her a whole lot.

Not like you cared. Michelle never really liked you all that well. You'd probably have been dumped on the street a long time ago had your father not legally obligated to pay child support.

You'd never known him. You weren't sure if you wanted to.

She doesn't use child support for your well-being. Probably uses it to continuously feed her crippling gambling addiction and buy more pointless flowers for the apartment.

You were nervous about today. You'd never been the new girl before—and you didn't know what to expect about these kids. You doubted they were as cool as people as Larry and Sal.

You showered and put on your boyfriend jeans—which had holes in the knees, but you couldn't bother to concern yourself whether or not that conflicted with the dress code or not— and your light grey hoodie. You added a flannel on top of that which was a little too big for you. Don't forget the white sneakers which you should probably replace.

You pocketed your flip phone and slung your bag over your shoulder. Stopping in front of the mirror, you passed a hand through your hair, decided it was adequate, and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed an apple—you never really found yourself hungry in the mornings. Besides, it wasn't like your mother was around to make sure you were fed—and left the apartment.

You locked the door behind you and shoved the keys into the front pocket of your bag afterward.

You met with Sal and Larry at the foot of the front steps of the apartments, like you'd agreed the day prior. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous as you opened the door and walked down the three stairs.

"Hey!" Larry greets you first.

"Hey, Larry," you smile weakly, as you're not fully awake yet, but it still means as much as a smile you'd give him when you were awake. You turn your eyes to Sal, waving shortly. You were momentarily startled when you realized he'd already been looking at you. "Hi, Sal."

"Hey," he says your name pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"

It was sweet that he was concerned about your well-being. "Alright. My lungs hurt."

He hooked a thumb around the strap of his bag and slid it up and down. His hands were pale and veiny. His nails were painted black and the polish was chipped in a few places. "Yeah. You did a shit-ton of coughing."

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can he meets your eyes. His head is inclined slightly downward, tilted a bit. He peers at you through the shadows of the mask. Lash-fringed, blue angel eyes bore through yours.

His eyes are opalescent. It's almost as if every time you look at them they were a different shade of blue.

You're sure your gazes hadn't connected for more than 3 seconds but the feeling that spawns inside of you from that short contact is slightly jarring. You don't necessarily comprehend what is stirring in your gut and you don't have time to because Larry's speaking breaks through your reverie.

He begins to talk about the chaos the first day of school would be. You quickly forget what had happened before.

But nothing had happened. It was nothing.

When you'd arrived at school after a little bit of walking, you, Larry, and Sal received your schedules together.

"Fuck me," you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you look down at your paper. "Math is first. This always happens to me."

Larry laughs loudly. "Yeah. That does suck. Mrs. Packerton looks like a walking corpse."

Sal jerks his head upward from his schedule. "That's fucked, Larry. She's an old lady."

"I don't care. Pretty sure she's secretly evil anyway."

Sal looks as though he's done reasoning with how harshly true Larry is most of the time. He shakes his head and looks back at you. "Well, if it's any consolation—I've also got math first. So, you know. We could go together," he pauses. "If you want."

You grin. "Yeah. Sure. At least I'll know someone there."

Larry flicks his eyes between the both of you before stopping them on Sal. "Hopefully you won't have Travis again," His eyebrows twitch. "He always has math first."

"Travis?" You echo curiously.

The two boys exchange a glance.

"Just a guy we know who-" Sal starts, hurrying to finish the sentence.

He was rushing so Larry wouldn't cut in and say something but it happened before he even had a chance. "He's a little fucker we know who gives Sal shit. 24/7. He makes my blood boil."

You furrow your eyebrows. "What- why? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Sal replies. "Pretty sure he's really troubled. Not unlike the rest of us."

"Doesn't mean he should take it out on other people." Larry scoffs. "I know it bothers you, dude."

Sal doesn't reply—seems as though he's growing uncomfortable speaking about all of it.

"Hey, guys!"

A voice calls, having grown closer halfway through her sentence. You all turn towards it. A girl, leggy and taller than both you and Sal, with long locks and eyes greener than a spring clover. There was something homey in the way her chocolate brown hair brought warmth to her features.

A boy is beside her, with ginger hair with eyes a deep shade of the richest earth. His skin is pale and freckled. He carries himself with an air of bluntness and just a little bit awkwardly—his facial expression is very blank, you note.

"Hey, Ash. Shocked you aren't late," Larry grins.

"Ash" rolls her eyes at him and mirrors his expression. "You know Todd would never let that happen."

"No, I wouldn't." Todd deadpans.

Ash turns toward you after laughing enough to flash the white gleam of her teeth and a slight dimple in her cheek. "Hey!" She then says your name prettily and juts out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ashley."

You don't ask her how she knows your name. Instead, you sincerely smile, take her hand and shake it. "Nice to meet you," you return, and then turn toward Todd. "You, too."

Todd is already an interesting character. He doesn't smile but his expression is cordial. "Welcome to Nockfell."

Your smile widens.

"Have you guys gotten your schedules yet?" Sal speaks up after having been quiet for a moment. He must've been reading over his schedule to himself.

"Oh! Yeah," Ashley opened her other hand, the one she hadn't shaken your hand with, and unfolded a now very crumpled piece of paper. She passed summer green over the list. "I've got biology."

Todd didn't even look at his list. "I have history."

Sal looks at you. His gaze easily levels with yours. "Looks like it's just me and you then."

Your face feels hot. "Haha," you suddenly feel nervous. "You're right. Sit beside me, okay?"

His eyebrows jump—that much you can tell by the way his eyes move. Tucking a strand of loose blue hair behind his ear, he replies: "Will do."

His ears are double pierced.

The bell's shrill ringing floods the halls. You wince, and you and Sal's eye contact is broken. Before that happens, though, you see Larry grinning to himself.

Weirdo, you think lightheartedly.

Everyone parts after that. Larry and Ash walk away together. They must both have biology, you thought. Todd leaves by himself to his respective class and you and Sal head towards math.

For a moment, the silence is unbearable. You've never been alone with a boy. Well, you weren't alone, just not in a group with other people. The noiselessness begins to bother you so you fleetingly think of something to say and blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

"The piercings," you say suddenly.

He turns his head toward you. You look up to him before looking straight. "What?"

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, you thought. All I do is make a mockery of myself.

"I like them!" you add, hurriedly. "They're pierced twice. That's really cool. Looks good on you."

He laughs shyly. "Thanks. I like your shoes."

"My shoes?" You look down and laugh. They were so worn. "Why?" You continue to giggle. "They're falling apart at the seams, haha."

"That's the best kind of shoe," he retorts. He jerks his chin towards his sneakers, a muted shade of cornflower blue. "Look at mine. They barely fit and they're- like, super constricting. Also super ratty—but I can't seem to get rid of them."

You laugh with him. "They look better than mine, at least."

You're glad the ice was broken so fast. You liked him.

The class was boring and uninteresting as any math class would be. You do work. You glance over at Sal a few times throughout the class—not to cheat, just to see how he was fairing—and he was writing answers down with a quick response time and humble confidence within the drawl of his handwriting.

Alright, so he was smart. Not much of a surprise there. You could tell just how perceptive of a boy he was.

You stared hopelessly at an answer on your sheet you'd yet to fill out and twirled the pencil around in your fingers.

Suddenly, a pale hand with black nails has nimbly reached over and hastily circled what you assume was the correct answer to the question with his pencil. You look up to Sal in surprise and appreciation, who's already back in his seat as if nothing had happened.

You giggle before you can stop yourself when he raises a hand and raises a finger in front of the prosthetic's mouth, to tell you "shh."

Mrs. Packerton slowly pivots away from the chalkboard and passes her eyes over the class. You and Sal quickly break eye contact and look down on your papers. Sal's shoulders shake in your peripheral vision and you press your knuckles to your lips and force a bored expression on your paper.

Before the bell rang, you noticed a blond boy with tan skin and caramel eyes in front of you and Sal, occasionally shooting your friend bitter looks. It left a sour taste in your mouth, but you didn't mention it.

You find Ash and Larry before your next class. You think you've burst a blood vessel from how hard you'd laughed when you left the classroom.

"I thought I'd cracked a rib," Sal states over your laughter. as you walked up to Larry and Ashley.

Larry and Ashley exchange a look. Larry is the first to state the obvious. "What the hell happened to you two?"

You and Sal look toward each other and make eye contact. That's the last straw. You cover your mouth and try and hold it in.

"I-" Sal inhales. "It doesn't matter," he breathes out, an amused lilt in his tone. "How was class?"

"Bad," Larry and Ashley reply, in synchronization.

"Really?" You ask, surprised. "Biology can be fun."

"This biology isn't," Ashley sighs. "Not when you're just staring at cells and organisms for 20 minutes and then being expected to do work on it and understand what's happening."

"Well, math wasn't any better," you reply. "If it's any consolation—I don't think I got any answers right except for the one Sal did for me."

"I thought math was fine," Sal chimes in.

"That's because you're fucking Albert Einstein reincarnate," Larry squints. "Please have mercy on our mortal souls, Math God."

"Oh my god," Sal looks down. "Please don't make this into another nickname."

"I like it!" Ashley grins.

You know they're teasing but you can't find it in you to join in after he helped you out in class. Instead, you resign into silence and watch as countless students filter through the halls, bumping into each other as they pass and chatting with their peers.

Through the crowd, at the far end of the hall, you see him. The blond boy who'd been eying Sal in class. He was looking at him in the same way he had been then, with threat and resent shadowing his polished amber eyes.

It looks as if he's readying himself to approach.

You glance toward Larry, Sal, and Ashley. They seem occupied well enough, so you slip into the crowd and head towards who you've now pieced together to be: "Travis," you state, as you stand in front of him. "That's you, right?"

He regards you with distaste. "Do I know you?"

You suck your teeth. "No," you tell him your name. "I came to ask you something."

Despite himself and his embitterment, his eyes shine with hesitant curiosity. You take that as your answer. In spite of his stance over you and his general advantage of being bigger, you hold his gaze with blunt intent.

"What were you planning on doing when you walked over?"

"Why do you fucking care what I do?"

You shrug. "I don't know, Travis. I just think you need to learn how to pick your battles."

"Pick my fucking battles.. you know what? I think I will go over there-"

As he takes a step forward, you raise your hand and your palm roughly hits his chest, stopping him in his tracks—not because of strength (he's at an advantage, and he could easily walk right through) but because of the views he had, or rather—the views pushed upon him.

You saw the golden cross swinging off of his neck as soon as you approached. You'd also seen the gnarly black eye he wore on his face.

It was safe to assume he was being beaten at home and by a parent. And, most of the time.. when an adult is religious they will use several methods to further push it upon their child. Like sinner's guilt. And abuse.

If Travis' extremely religious guardian were to ever find out he'd harmed a girl, especially under the eyes of many others—it wouldn't turn out very well for him.

Yes, maybe you were being manipulative. But you were being manipulative for the good of both Sal and Travis.

"Step down," you advised. "This won't go very well."

You steadily meet his eyes. The stare between the two of you lasts for an even amount of time. Finally, he breaks that contact, jerks away with you, huffs, and walks his way around you and down the hall.

After that, you returned with the excuse of exchanging books from your locker, after Larry had asked you where you had wandered off to. No one seemed to have noticed Travis standing ominously at the end of the hall or your altercation with him.

At the end of school, you were beat. You said goodbye to both Ashley and Todd. Afterward, you, Larry, and Sal head for Addison's Apartments.

"You know, we don't have to go home yet," you say.

The boys turn to you curiously, as you kick a pebble as you walk along the side of the road. The beginnings of the sunset blossom in the sky—orange and fruity like tangerine jelly and amaranth pink like homemade strawberry frosting. like home. It fills you up inside and makes you feel so sweet.

"You guys wanna see a movie?"

Larry grins. "We don't have money."

"Who says we need money?"

When you'd arrived at the movie theater, all three of you had circled to the side exit. After a few moments of waiting suspiciously, an older couple exited through the doors. Larry caught the handle before it closed, and you brushed past them and quickly entered the theater. Before the doors closed, you heard them mumbling about "pesky children," or something.

Once you'd gotten in, you scanned each screening room and what movie the doors said it was playing.

You and Sal decided on a scary movie. Larry was not amused. Whatsoever. Apparently, horror is not his thing.

Before you entered, you frowned.

"We have no popcorn.."

In moments, Larry was reaching into a nearby trash can and pulling out an empty bucket that improbably had popcorn inside of it at some point in time. He then walked away, holding this empty popcorn bucket. It was so bizarre and you would have laughed had not been extremely confused.

"What.." Sal murmured, looking to you. "You think he'll come back?"

"I don't know where he would even be coming back from," You admitted.

It wasn't very long until he'd returned, with the empty bucket he'd taken from the trash now full of popcorn.

"Mandatory free refills," He said to your baffled face, pointing toward the poster on the wall above the trash can which read exactly what he'd just said. "You can never forget the hustle, kids."

"Oh my god," Sal mumbled and you barely heard him beneath Larry's laughter.

The movie was horribly made, and it still somehow scared the shit out of Larry. It may as well have been a comedy with how hard you'd laughed. Multiple other people in the theater had told you to shut Larry up but that was impossible when he was screaming every time a shadow would come on screen or the scene would change.

You, being between Larry and Sal, originally thought you'd had the best seat. You were wrong. Not only was Larry cowering into you and screaming directly in your ear, but Sal had simultaneously begun to throw popcorn at Larry's face to shut him up. That only resulted in popcorn. All over.

Needless to say, you left before the movie ended because of the fear of being escorted out by the employees.

"I'm never seeing a movie with you again," Sal squinted towards Larry. The three of you were now on the way back to the apartments. The night was thick and pearly moonlight bounced off old the white of his prosthetic face. "I think my eardrums are bleeding."

"It's the horror movies! This isn't my fault. Both of you ganged up on me and chose it."

You giggled to yourself.

Sal, beside you, suddenly stopped. "Wait, Y/N."

You stopped, and Larry halted a few feet away, as he'd been walking a bit ahead. Sal leaned forward and reached toward your face. Your body felt as though it had been zapped and you stood still.

He reached into your hair and pulled out a piece of popcorn.

"Huh." You said, dumbly. "How'd that get there?"

Larry's approaching footsteps were fast and leggy. He reached into Sal's hand, plucked the piece of popcorn between his fingers and fucking ate it.

"Jesus Christ, I can't do this anymore," Sal shook his head.

"What? It looked okay."

Recovering quickly from whatever had happened to you, you laughed.

You also inwardly denied what your body was feeling because you knew it was much too soon.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

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Moe Moe Mallekei Kyun~

In which Malleus and Cater go to a maid café, and shenanigans ensue.

... I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time.

***Warning: mild spoilers for Malleus’s PE Uniform personal story!***

Imagine this...

“Lilia-sama.”

Two bodyguards fell into line, saluting simultaneously to their vice dorm leader.

“We just finished combing through the prime gargoyle locations around campus,” Silver reported. “Unfortunately, there was no sight of Malleus-sama to be found. The accounts of the various students we interviewed also corroborate that the Young Master has not recently been spotted in the area.”

“I see. Thank you, Silver.” Lilia sighed, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Hm, this is a bit odd. Wherever could he have wandered off to this time?”

At that moment, a ping! sounded off. Lilia fished his phone out of his pocket and, with one glance at the screen, his expression softened.

“You don’t suppose some dastardly villain has… kidnapped the Young Master and is holding him for ransom, do you?!” Sebek’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the thought. “If that is the case… THEN WE HAVE FAILED AS MALLEUS-SAMA’S KNIGHTS!!”

“Now, now--let’s not jump to conclusions. Even if that were true, I’m certain that Malleus would be able to easily fend off assailants on his own. Perhaps he has simply lost his way, or headed off campus to run an errand.”

“... Without warning us in advance?”

“I would have happily accompanied the Young Master wherever he went--EVEN TO THE ENDS OF TWISTED WONDERLAND ITSELF!!”

“Kufufu. Malleus is still young at heart. Let us allow him this moment of independence, just this once. He will find his way home eventually.”

“Welcome home, my masters!!”

Malleus skidded to a stop in the doorway—for beyond it laid unknown territory. The interior sported cream walls, with fairy lights, streamers, and paper flowers strung up. A number of tables and chairs, populated with people, were set against flowing white curtains.

Young ladies flitted about, balancing trays of food and drinks, cameras, and microphones. Each wore the same outfit, consisting of a frilly headdress, an apron, and a black dress with lace trim and ribbons.

And now, one of those uniformed girls extended a hand to him and a warm, welcoming smile.

Malleus frowned and turned to the orange haired young man beside him. “... Diamond. What is this strange establishment you’ve brought me to?”

“Mm? It’s a maid café,” Cater chirped, glancing up from his phone. “You said you’ve never been before, right?”

“Well, yes… However, when you invited me to join you for an outing, I did not expect this to be our destination.”

“It’ll be fine~ We’re already here, so let’s get seated!” Cater insisted cheerily, ushering the fae through the door.

“Right this way, my masters!” The greeter giggled and led the way, eventually stopping at a vacant table set for two. As the duo slipped into their seats, she handed them menus and moistened towels. “We have a wide selection of special services and delicious dishes for your enjoyment!”

Malleus hesitantly flipped open the (very pink) menu and ran his eyes down the page of available items. Along with the expected offerings of desserts, savory foods, and beverages were odd listings: massage, ear cleaning, karaoke, game, arts and crafts, picture, spoon feeding, live song and dance...

He stared quizzically at Cater, who seemed to be taking everything in stride.

“I’ll take a plate of omurice! How about you, Malleus-kun?”

He stared back at his menu, trying to make rhyme or reason of the unique names. What in the Great Seven was a Pyon ❤ Pyon Sunshine Bar…? Or a Lucky☆Happy☆Cookie? Malleus’s brows furrowed in both concentration and confusion.

“I… I shall have the local specialty, whatever that may be,” the fae prince declared at last.

“Excellent choices! And would you like a bunny, or a kitty?”

“You hand out animals at this eating establishment? Is that not a health code violation?”

“Aaah, Malleus-kun, she doesn’t mean real rabbits and cats. Look--you’ll see when she brings them, okay?” Cater laughed awkwardly. Then, turning to the waitress, he held up his index finger. “One of each, little lady~”

“Of course!” She scribbled down a few words on her heart shaped notepad before prancing off.

“... Diamond. Are you certain this is the fabled maid café of which you spoke of?” Malleus asked, folding his arms. “I find it difficult to believe that every patron here is descended from a high class lineage. Furthermore, the servers are wearing attire entirely unlike that of a traditional household servant.”

Cater blinked once, twice—then chuckled.

“Maid cafés are like normal cafés. Anyone can go to them to play pretend and chill for a while! The difference is that the waitresses are dressed cutely and offer fun services. Singing, dancing, playing games—that kinda thing!”

“I do not understand.” Malleus swept a hand at their surroundings. “The purpose of this establishment is merely for… amusement?”

“Yup! People get tired of the daily grind sometimes, so they go to places like this to see cute stuff and just take a load off.”

“I… I see.” Malleus tucked his thumb and forefinger under his chin. “We do not have anything like your maid cafes in the Valley of Thorns.”

“You don’t? What sort of things do you do back home for fun, then?”

“I was not allowed to venture far from the palace grounds. Most of my time was spent indoors, studying spells or honing my magical abilities.”

Cater inclined his head. “Oooh, right! Because you’re a prince and all, you weren’t able to do much—but hey! Things are different now! You’ve got Cay-kun to show you a good time!”

“Ah, yes. A ‘good time’...” Malleus attempted at a smile, which came out more wary than he had intended.

“Thank you for waiting!” a girlish voice chirped—their waitress had returned, wearing a tray of food in one hand and two headbands in the other. “Here is your omurice and Nyan ✨ Nyan ✨ Kitty-chan Parfait, plus one pair of kitty ears and one pair of bunny ears!”

She handed Cater his dish—a bed of ketchup flavored fried rice, sealed by a wobbling omelet and garnished with a sprig of parsley.

“Mm! Smells delicious. Thanks a bunch~” Cater grinned, winking at his server.

The maid giggled and placed Malleus’s dessert before him, along with the headbands.

“Would you like me to draw or write something special for you on your meal, master?” she asked, gesturing to Cater’s omurice.

“Sure thing! Could you write ‘Mallekei’? Oh, and a couple of hearts would be cute, too!”

“As you wish!”

As the maid set to work, Malleus marveled at the sight of his parfait.

Colorful scoops of ice-cream, granola, and sliced fruits were layered inside of a tall glass cup. A generous crown of whipped cream and a drizzle of strawberry sauce topped it off. Sticking out from the whipped cream were two wafer triangles and dots of chocolate candies, forming a cat-like face.

How adorable.

… But not adorable enough to be spared.

“Thank you for the food.” The fae raised his spoon to demolish the poor parfait kitten—

“Stop, stop, Malleus-kun!!” Cater cried, frantically waving his arms. “N-Not yet!!”

Malleus lowered his spoon with a frown. “Food is meant to be consumed, Diamond. Is there an issue you have with my table etiquette?”

“Well—no, but…” Cater played with a lock of his orange hair and sighed. “There’s certain rituals we need to do first!”

“Rituals? Oh, my apologies. I was not aware. Please proceed with your regularly scheduled… rituals.”

“Ahaha, you’re a quick learner! First thing’s first, let’s put on our headbands!” Cater swept up the cat ears and passed them over. “Here, to match your parfait! I’ll take the rabbit.”

Malleus gingerly nestled the cat ears on his head, copying Cater’s movements. It was a bit tricky maneuvering around his horns, but somehow, he managed.

“Oh!! Those ears suit you so well!” the waitress said, glancing up from decorating the omurice. Carefully placed splotches of ketchup spelled out ‘Mallekei’, hearts and little sparkles littering the space around the boys’ combined names.

“... Do they?” Malleus doubted it.

“They do!!” Cater reassured him with a laugh. “Ne, ne, miss! Can you take our picture so my friend here can have a souvenir to take home with him?”

“Certainly!” She replaced the bottle of ketchup and hurried off, returning shortly after with a polaroid camera. “Are you ready, my masters?”

“Ready, Malleus-kun?”

“Hmph. Of course. I will have you know that my posing abilities have improved considerably since our last encounter. Do not underestimate me.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ve been practicing! Then… on the count of three, we nyah, okay?”

“... What is ‘nyah’?” Malleus inquired, his confidence suddenly waning.

“Eh?” A blip of surprise crossed Cater’s face. “Like, y’know… nyah!”

The influencer curled both of his hands into balls and made a pawing motion at his friend. “Now you try!”

“Like this?” Malleus mimicked him. He was more stiff—definitely not as practiced—but the general motion was still recognizable.

“Very good, master!!” the waitress gushed, raising the polaroid up. “On three?”

“1, 2, 3… Nyah!”

A flash went off, sending stars into Malleus’s vision. As he rubbed the daze out of his eyes, Cater’s voice called out to him.

“Are you okay there?”

“I am well. There is no need for your concern,” the fae insisted. “This ritual… it is more confounding that I took it to be.”

“Eeeh? It’s not meant to be hard or anything. Just relax, relax!” Cater paused before adding, “It’s part of the ritual’s requirements! You need to be nice and loose for the last step!”

“What is this last step?”

“We need to cast a magic spell to make your food taste extra tasty!” the waitress declared cheerily.

“Hoh?” A smirk found its way onto Malleus’s face. “That can easily be arranged. Allow me to do the honors.”

He put his hand before his parfait, an eerie green glow emulating from his palm. The sinister light engulfed his dish and Cater’s, sending them floating midair. Radioactive ice-cream and omurice hovered above their heads, causing both Cater and their maid to recoil in shock.

Other customers stared at the spectacle from their own tables. One man’s jaw dropped, the forkful of spaghetti bolognese in his mouth clattering onto the floor.

“You, who provides sustenance to the masses, become that which is delici—“

“H-Hold on a sec, Malleus-kun!!” Cater practically leapt over the table to seize his friend’s glowing hand. “Not that kind of spell!!”

Eyes wide with surprise, Malleus allowed his magic to settle down. The parfait and omurice gently floated back onto their table, and the maid sighed with relief.

“Is there a different spell needed for this occasion? I assure you that I am well-versed in practical magic—you need only speak its name, and I can conjure the proper…”

“No, no! It’s—“ Cater casted a look at their server and nervously chuckled. “Ne, Maid-chan~ Think you can give us a demonstration of the right spell?”

“Yes, master!” the girl, ever professional, flashed a perky grin. “Please watch carefully!!”

The maid set down her polaroid on the table. She then arched her fingers into C-like shapes, thumb extended straight. Pushing her hands together, she formed a heart and aimed it in the direction of the boy’s dishes.

“Moe moe kyuuuuuun!”

“What an odd spell. In all my years, I have never heard of such an enchantment…”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, right?” Cater flicked one of his floppy rabbit ears. “Plus, it should be no problem for the great Malleus-sama to pull off this spell, right?”

“This is child’s play,” Malleus’s laugh was like the earth itself rumbling. His lips quirked into a small smile. “You will join me in performing this sacred ritual, will you not, Diamond?”

“Of course~”

“Very well.”

They made hearts and thrust them upon their meals. And together, they uttered those three magic words.

“Moe moe kyuuuuun!!”

“Welcome back, Malleus,” Lilia greeted. The vice dorm leader nonchalantly hung from the ceiling, his raven and magenta bangs suspended midair. “Did you have fun on your outing?”

“Lilia. You knew?” Malleus slowly shut the door behind him, chasing away the cool air of the night. He spoke softly, knowing that sounds carried in the dusty hallways of Diasomnia and could disturb its residents.

“The wonders of modern technology,” Lilia trilled, expertly landing beside his young master. He brandished his phone in a gloved hand, a text message displayed on the screen.

hey hey lilia-chan! gonna steal malmal-kun for the day~ he’ll be back later, but do me a solid and keep it a secret from s&s til then, ‘kay? thnx!! (✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡

“It looks as though I have been exposed.”

“There is no shame in making new friends. In fact, I’m proud of you for expanding your horizons.” Lilia beamed. “Though what a shame it is that I was not present to grab a few pictures. Hopefully Cater fulfilled that task for me.”

The ancient fae tilted forward in his toes and peered up at his prince. “Soooo? Where did you sneak off to?”

“Fufu. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“My. Is that any way to treat the man that kept Silver and Sebek from hunting you down?” Lilia teased, wagging a finger.

“Such loyalty,” Malleus smirked, hands on his hips, “deserves to be rewarded.”

He produced a polaroid photograph from his breast pocket and presented it with a flourish. The image, forever captured in time, was that of Malleus and Cater—the former with cat ears, the latter with bunny ears—with hands balled to resemble paws. Cater cheekily winked, while Malleus looked slightly bewildered.

The edges of the polaroid were dotted with stickers—smiley faces, flowers, and hearts. Marker had been used to scrawl on whiskers and blushes over both boys’ cheeks.

Overall, cutesy—overwhelming so.

But the Malleus and Cater in the picture were happy.

Their eyes shining like jewels.

Nyah-ing their hearts out.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Cater Diamond #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #something no one asked for #spoilers

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

HARRY'S 27th !!!

Author's Note: Tooth rotting fluffy blurb 'cause it's my baby's birthday. I love him so much uwu.

He was swarmed with reverent loving kisses doting from his relaxed temple down where the centre of his sentiments and the luminosity of love resides in for you – his heart. His taffy mouth blew raspberries against her cheeks in effort to wake up as she gives him generous cuddles wrapped around him like one of his fuzziest warmest blankets. They day hasn't even started and he's already feeling so loved by his lovie.

"Happy birthday, honey!" She whispers squeal with excitement flickering in her eyes as she nuzzled her cheeks under his chin peppering lil soft kisses, "Thank you m'love you're such a pleased gift to wake up to." He giggles squishing her tight against his solid chest.

"C'mon up up! Made brekkie for you!" She exclaims sponging a tender kiss to his plush lips trying to lug him off from bed tugging him from wrists, "alright alright lil penguin." He tries to pick up his limbs with same vibrancy she's expecting from him.

She makes him sit fetching plates from the kitchen and Harry heart might burst into confetti. The love he has for her scattering all over around as he awes looking at the heart shaped pancakes with hearty eyes made from chocolate syrup. I'm her utter thrill she rips it off with a fork hovering it over his mouth, "hmm. Pet yummiest pancakes 've had in me life." He praises her when she feeds him tilting her chin and kissing her lips softly.

"Thank you. Wanted your birthday to be best -- wanted to celebrate you." If her propaganda is to make him cry she's already succeeding at it. He shifts her into his lap crooning sweet nothings and thankful kisses into the cave of her neck, "It's already the best with ye' in my arms baby." He sighs chewing feeding her some and she gulps quickly interjecting.

"I've a surprise for you!" She flutters her fingertips from the dollop of his cheeks down this throat, "You didn't have to." He shakes his head with a intact grin eyes still puffy from sleep.

"Yes I do. I love you baby!" She smothers him in loud kisses cause the affection is spilling from the brim of her heart and the roles have been reversed so beautifully since Harry's the one being this gooey for her all the time.

"Can I open 'em now?" He chuckles trying not to tumble as she's covering his eyes with her palms to keep from ruining the surprise. She was ecastic padding towards him with bags and boxes of gifts but when he tried to unwrap them after emotional gazes and smiley faces of "'m s' lucky to have you pet." "You didn't have to . ." She jumped on her bum almost shouting at him not to unwrap them at the moment cause another surprise is waiting for him in afternoon, kissing him sheepishly after that.

Harry gasps awestruck. Eyes total heart shaped and candy mouth babbling like a goldfish. He laces his fingers with her pulling her closer to him to kiss her head as she smiles in victory, "The weather was too pretty today -- knew it's your birthday." She giggles pressing her lips to his chest.

She has set-up a small picnic in their garden. With a cake she was baking and adorning with frosting whole previous night, fruits and wine, different breads and fruity drinks of pinks and orange.

Grass lush with white roses and pink bearths surrounding them with a wooden fence infront of them that has nothing but vast rich land full of trees behind it. There are cotton wet clouds in the marble blue sky and sun that winks at them time to time. It's perfect.

"I love it lil penguin. Love you." He breathes out happily leading her to sit down with him. Her cnoodled between his warm embrace and she hands him gifts to unwrap. He take out tissues from the bag and glances at her gleefully picking up the gloves made of sheer sage satin fabric, "'s just your hands looks s' pretty in them." She clutches at the hem of his shirt making him grin that wide it suckles dimples deep into his cheeks.

Then the matte lilac box that has flimsy hearts painted at it's borders with his name in between, "Painted those for you." She mumbles shyly and he cups her cheeks leaving everything to whisper into her mouth, "you're s' contagious not to love you." When he opens it up with same gentleness he holds for her it reveals a pink silk top with his initials embroidered on the vedge of it's pocket along with a lil flower.

"Froggy helped me choose the silk you like the most 'n . . 'n guided me sewing it." She calls Harris froggy. "Gonna wear it all day and every day." He giggles fumbling with her bottom pink lip.

"Last one then . . ." She squeaks handing him the tinsy bag and when he shoves his hand a card comes into his grasp. He reads the contents on it and sighs ever so loud full of happiness. It's an invitation to a dulcimer playing get together, where old people from certain cultures gather to play their folk tunes.

"Can take Mitch maybe Harry with ya." She says nervously and he watches with glittery eyes tracing the edges of card, "I'll take you. Would ya like to go on a date with me miss y/n?" He smirks playing with her fingers and she bobs her head.

"Let's cut this cake 'm starvin'." He rubs his hands together to show his eagerness and she laughs out aloud, "wait wait lemme put a candle." She pushes him away putting a single candle and litting it up.

"Make a wish baby!!" She claps her hand closer to her chest leaning against his shoulder with cheshire grin. He closes his eyes blowing it and she smothers him in kissing holding his face from side. He looks at her confused when she hands him a wine glass scooping up cake in it with it, "do it. It's fun!!" She giggles and he shakes his head doing the same clanking the rims together.

"Here goes to me 27th full of love and smiles." His accent deeply british with cheeks rosy from the light zephyr.

They fed eachother, her head in his lap listening to the vinyl recorder playing a french melody. He cackles loudly when a squirrel steals the crumb of her blue berries and kisses her pout gazing the little creature accompanying him in his cute lil birthday party. They are slightly tipsy, maybe Harry thinks but the fuzziness and clinginess that's tickling his tummy proves it right.

He just couldn't resist kissing her and lovin' her. Praising her. Thanking her. Staring the candy shaped clouds. He couldn't want anything else. Just him and her. In their little bubble of adoration.

#harry birthday #harry fluff #cute harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #hsh #fluff #harry smut #harry angst #harry styles smut #dom harry

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.”

Rodeo’s Two Pieces:

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic.

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies.

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most.

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat.

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point?

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.”

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed.

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.”

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.”

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually.

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards.

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.”

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table.

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore.

He opted for a cup of water instead.

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail.

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread.

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth.

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.”

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears.

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl.

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island.

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar.

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.”

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell.

“It’s yeast alright.”

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips.

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.”

Nero shrugged.

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.”

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.”

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing.

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven.

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it.

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee.

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth.

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.”

“Support local businesses, Nero.”

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume.

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies.

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee.

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee.

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip.

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie.

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work.

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned.

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma.

(II)- Curl Up And Dye.

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more.

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter.

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company.

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless.

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.”

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement.

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath.

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims.

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled.

So here they were now.

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head.

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered.

“Um, what did you try to do-”

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands.

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair.

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out.

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut.

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.”

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly.

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed.

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless.

No one liked being helpless.

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head.

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise.

“What?”

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more.

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity.

“What color, Nero?”

“Neon green-”

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t mind it.”

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It.

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.”

“Shut up, Dante.”

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call.

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off.

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard.

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell.

“Nice broccoli head.”

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat.

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero.

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said.

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.”

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk.

“Kyrie, wait-”

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.”

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response.

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them.

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed.

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured.

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing.

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.”

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke.

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick.

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history.

“Where do we even start?” Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress.

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally.

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some.

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled.

“Hell yeah.”

#nirvana and dominic fike reference?#nirvana and dominic fike reference #not much vergil in this work i do not care for the man today #nero x kyrie #nerokiri #devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #nero sparda #kyrie #dmc kyrie #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nicoletta goldstein

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fantastic-bby · 3 years

Text

House Sitter

Pairing: (F)Reader x Jaebeom

Word count: 10.8k

Summary: When Jaebeom moves into a new apartment, he knows that he should most likely make friends with the neighbours. He buddies up to his next door neighbour, offering her drinks while they talk on the balcony. When he needs to leave his home suddenly, he asks her to watch his home and his cats, eventually coming home to realise that his cats seem to have taken a liking to her. With more time spent away from home, Jaebeom designates his neighbour as his go-to house sitter without exactly explaining why he’s away so often...

Warnings: Guns | Mentions of the mafia | Murder | Attempted kidnapping

Masterlist

“I’m Jaebeom.” You stare at your very handsome neighbour with wide eyes. Wow. You saw him moving in the other day, but since it was a passing greeting, you couldn’t actually see his face. You can conclude that he was much more attractive up close.

“(Y/n),” you extend your hand when you’re snapped back into reality.

“Well, (Y/n), I can assure you that I’m a relatively quiet person. Though, my cats do make some noise sometimes,” he chuckles. You wonder how a person’s chuckle could be as attractive as his.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laugh. “As long as you’re not blasting music at 3 a.m. like the college students who live above us, I’ll be fine.” Jaebeom smiles and you swear you could fall in love with him right there and then.

“I guess I’ll see you around then,” he retracts his hand, giving you a small wave before he disappears into the apartment right beside yours. You stay in the spot right outside your door, wondering whether you imagined that whole affair or not. You always hear about that hot, super attractive neighbour from stories or movies which made you assume your new neighbour would end up being a family just starting out or some college student since your apartment building was quite close to one of the campuses. But no. Your new neighbour was a very handsome and a very real person who just so happened to move in next to you.

You step into your apartment and brush the thought off. You can’t just spend your time thinking or gawking at Jaebeom—that’s just weird. You spend your days as you normally do; waking up, heading off to work, having dinner and heading to bed. It’s a routine that you’re used to. Occasionally, you would head down to the 7 11 right beside your building to get ramen or chocolate when it’s 3 a.m. and you can’t sleep.

Though, your routine has changed slightly ever since Jaebeom moved in next to you. You find yourself greeting him whenever you’d see him; letting small talk fill up most of your conversations whenever you were in the lift together. There were a couple of times where he would knock on your door asking if you knew where certain places were around the area. You have the decency to keep your staring limited and subtle, watching him from the corner of your eye whenever you pretend not to notice him grabbing his mail from the mailbox which was right next to yours since his apartment number was right above yours.

You open the sliding door to your balcony, your hands stuck into the pocket of your sweater as you step out into the cold. It was a long day at work and you wanted nothing more than to just wind down. Your balcony didn’t have the most luxurious view, but the 16th floor had a lot to offer from being so high up. It was a calming space; the sound of cars driving by and the faint sound of people chatting as they walk around the park right in front of you easing up your mind.

“Hey, neighbour.” Jaebeom’s voice makes you turn to your right to see him sitting on the rattan chair of his balcony, a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s dressed in a black hoodie that looks like it’s definitely a few sizes too big, a pair of grey sweatpants. His feet are clad with a pair of white fuzzy slippers while one of his cats sits comfortably in his lap.

“Oh, hey,” you greet softly. When you notice the siamese you tilt your head curiously, “aren’t you worried your cat might jump off of the balcony?” He looks down at his cat for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nora doesn’t like high places. She avoids sitting at the edge of balconies or climbing onto the rails.” Jaebeom’s hand gently runs through her fur before he looks back up to you. “Do you have any pets in there?”

“No,” you shake your head as you turn back to the view of the city. “I don’t think I have any space or time to care for them. I’d feel bad leaving them here while I’m at work.” You’ve thought about it before. The idea of having a pet just keeping you company was tempting, but you were away at work from morning until evening and you wouldn’t know what you’d do if something happened to them. “I do love them though,” you clarify as you take a seat on the metal chair on your balcony. “They look like good company.”

“Well, my five make very good company,” he hums.

“Five?” You turn to him in disbelief. “That’s a lot of cats for one man.”

“They seem to take care of themselves when I’m away during the day,” Jaebeom chuckles as he takes a sip from the beer in his hand. “Care for one?” He holds up an unopened bottle by his side.

“Why not?” You move closer to his side and reach out, successfully grabbing onto the bottle and bringing it over to your side. “Watch this.” Jaebeom watches intently as you angle the bottle against the metal tops of the rails, swinging it down with just enough strength for the cap to pop off.

“Impressive,” he praises as he claps. “Though, you could’ve just asked me for the opener since I have it right here.” Jaebeom raises the small metal bottle opener.

“Bottle opener’s aren’t cool,” you huff, taking a swig from your bottle. You let the sour taste of the beer coat your tongue, the alcohol burning slightly as it goes down your throat. “Are you out here all the time?” you glance up at him.

“Only on nights when I need to clear my mind,” Jaebeom shrugs.

“Ahh.” You lean back in the chair, letting the silence settle between you two. There’s an occasional meow from his cat, causing you to glance over to see her stretching her paws out in front of her while Jaebeom gently pets her.

“Do you want to go back inside already?” he questions softly. You watch Jaebeom put his now empty bottle onto the glass table beside him. “Nora’s getting a bit cold, I have to bring her inside.” He stands up slowly, gently cradling his cat in his hands. “Have a good night, (Y/n).”

“Night, Jaebeom,” you wave at him as he disappears into his home. You look down at the half finished bottle in your hand, deciding to just chug the rest of it before heading into your own apartment.

The knocking on your door makes you stir in your sleep.

“(Y/n)! Wake up, please!” You pull yourself out of bed groggily, dragging yourself to the front door and swinging it open. Your eyes squint as they adjust to the light of the hallway.

“Jaebeom? It’s like 2 a.m., what the hell?”

“Can you watch my cats, please? Just for a few days.” His voice sounds frantic.

“What?”

“Please? I have some things I need to handle, so I won’t be coming home for a few days and I need to go now. I can’t call up the cat sitter because it’s too last minute and you’re the only person I know in this building,” Jaebeom explains frantically. “Please?” You let out a sigh before nodding. “Okay, yes, thank you! Here’s my number and my house keys,” he pushes the piece of paper and the set of keys into your hands. “I’ll text you all the details on how to care for them later.”

“How many of them are there again?” you question.

“There’s only five. They’re not that hard to care for. You just have to feed them and clean their litter tray.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“I’m honestly not sure. Just check in on them every few hours—you could honestly stay over at my place too if you’d like, I don’t mind. Give me a text and I’ll send you all the details. I’m so sorry that it’s last minute.” You barely have any time to respond before he’s dashing down the hallway. You blink a couple times before looking at the paper and keys in your hands. Deciding to not worry Jaebeom, you close your front door and move back into your bedroom to text in the numbers.

(Y/n): Jaebeom…? [3:43] It’s (Y/n).

Jaebeom: Hey, again, sorry for pushing this onto you so suddenly. [3:45] You can live in my apartment for a while if you’d like too. The guest room is the one opposite my bedroom. [3:46]

You sigh before laying down, putting your phone aside. You’ll check what you need to do in the morning and when you’re not half asleep.

Feed them twice a day. Odd’s on a diet so you have to feed her the food from the pink bag. Make sure she doesn’t eat out of the other’s bowls and be careful because she might try and steal your food.

You stick the keys into the lock before pushing open his door, immediately being greeted with two cats—the siamese you recognised as Nora and a munchkin—staring up at you curiously. You pull your phone up to cross check the pictures Jaebeom had sent you with the cats just to be sure.

“You must be…” you trail off as you scroll through your chat. “Cake.” When she meows in response to her name, you take that as affirmation. “Okay, I saw you the other day on the balcony, so I’m going to assume you’re Nora.”

“Mrreow.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You move into his kitchen, your eyes stuck to your phone as you navigate through his kitchen. “Okay…” you trail off as you stop.

Cat food’s in the cupboard below the sink. They’re labeled with coloured tags at the top of the bags.

Upon opening the cupboard, you immediately see the bags he was talking about. A blue sticky note is stuck on one of them and you pull that out, looking for the cat bowls that he said would be in the kitchen.

I labelled the bowls so you would find them easily.

You see the four bowls lined up neatly against the side of the fridge, all of them having small notes stuck to the side with letters scribbled onto them. N, C, K, O. “Okay, simple enough,” you mutter to yourself as you fill the bowl labelled ‘O’ with the blue tagged biscuits before switching out the bags to fill in the other cats’ bowls.

The sound of the biscuits hitting the bowl seems to be some kind of an alarm for the cats. They start filling the kitchen immediately. The one you notice must be Odd starts trying to steal the bites from the other cats, causing you to push her away.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that,” you gently push her towards her bowl instead. She’s persistent which makes you turn to your phone for help.

If Odd won’t eat from her bowl, bring her and the bowl in my bedroom and watch her until she finishes eating. She might throw up because she doesn’t chew her food properly. Slow her down if you don’t hear her biting down on her food.

You slip your phone into your pocket and gently lift up the white cat in one hand, cradling her against your chest before picking up the food bowl with your other hand. You make your way towards the first door that you assume is the bedroom—glad that your assumption was right—and place Odd down at the door with the food bowl in front of her. You sit down on the floor beside her and pull your phone out of your pocket as you start scrolling through the list of things that Jaebeom had sent you to do.

The food’s running out, so if I’m not back by the time it’s empty, go ahead and buy it. I’ll pay you back when I get home.

You sigh as you lean your head against the door. You don’t usually house-sit or cat-sit for anyone, leaving you completely new with the idea of having to take care of someone else's home. When you realise the lack of crunching coming from the white fluffy cat beside you, you quickly pull her away gently.

“Slow down, sweetie,” you mutter, running your hand down her back to calm her down. You wait a minute or two before letting her continue with her meal before turning your attention back to your phone. You run through the list a few more times, making sure you have at least the gist of it.

You look up from your phone, letting your curiosity take over as you look around Jaebeom’s bedroom. His room is simply decorated, his bed messily made to show that he really was in a rush when he was leaving. His desk sits towards the left side of his room, right beside the window. Papers scatter the desk and a plant sits at the corner of it. You look through the list once again, wondering whether you have to care for the plant as well.

The plant in my bedroom is fake. It’s just there for decoration lol

You snort to yourself as you look away from your phone. You wonder what was so urgent that Jaebeom wouldn’t realise how long he would be gone for. That’s not your business though. You shake the thought out of your head, turning to Odd only to realise that she’s staring at you. You pick up the bowl while standing up and open the door, letting the white fluffy feline run out to greet the rest of her cat family.

You look around the apartment, wondering whether there was anything else that you needed to do before concluding that you were done for the morning.

There’s some stuff in the fridge that you can eat if I’m not home by Thursday. Better that someone uses them instead of me just throwing them away when I get back.

You look through his fridge, checking the expiry dates to see which ones are closer to expiration. You hum when you see the packet of rice cakes that would expire in a day or two. You send him a quick text giving him the inventory of what you had found.

(Y/n): Attached image (3) [21:24] ?

You realise that Jaebeom takes quite a while to answer messages, leaving you to just set your phone down on the counter while you continue going through his fridge. He has an abundance of alcohol which isn’t anything new for a man in his mid twenties who’s living alone.

(Y/n): Attached image (1) [21:30] Am I allowed to? c:

Jaebeom: Go ahead. At least it’s a way for me to thank you for doing this :) [21:34]

If I’m not back on Sunday, a friend of mine is coming over to make sure everything’s in order. I hope that doesn’t make you feel weird or anything, but my cats are my babies and I wanna make sure they’re okay.

It’s understandable that Jaebeom would have someone come over to check it out. Though, you do wonder why he didn’t just have one of his friends come over to house sit, but you don’t question it that much. After a few days of taking care of his home, you realise that it’s just more convenient since you’re his neighbour and you would be right there to take care of his cats without having to travel far.

The doorbell rings and it makes you turn away from your laptop. You push yourself off of the couch and make your way to the door, opening it to reveal the man who you assume is Jaebeom’s friend.

“(Y/n)...?” he questions. You nod. “JB hyung asked me to come and make sure his cats are okay since I live ten minutes away.”

“I’ve been following the instructions he sent me a while ago and his cats seem happy,” you say as you let him into the apartment. You’re only aware of just how tall he is when he walks past you.

“He’s not particular about things, so I honestly don’t think he cares about anything else other than his cats,” he snorts. He’s immediately greeted by Jaebeom’s cats, all of them recognising him immediately. “Hey, kitties, how are you?” he coos. “I’m Yugyeom, by the way.” He glances over at you and you nod.

“Jaebeom didn’t mention a name. I assume because he knows I wouldn’t know any of his friends anyway.” You move back to the couch, picking up your laptop. “Do you know when he might be back?” Yugyeom hums in thought as he stands up, looking around the apartment.

“He didn’t mention when he would, but he did ask me to tell you that if you do end up buying cat food, let him know and he’ll bank you the money,” he says. He walks into Jaebeom’s bedroom, leaving you to work on the couch. “Did you make JB hyung’s bed?” Yugyeom peeks out of the bedroom. You look up and nod.

“I asked him if I could. It irked me since I have to bring Odd into his bedroom so she won’t gobble up the others’ food and he said I could,” you explain as you turn back to your screen.

“JB hyung barely ever makes his bed,” he comments as he steps back out into the living room. “I think you’re doing a better job at taking care of his apartment than him.”

“I’ve kinda just gotten used to being around here, so I started cleaning up like how I would clean up my own apartment.” Yugyeom spends more time walking around Jaebeom’s apartment before stopping in the living room.

“I think that’s all I needed to do here,” he looks around the living room one more time before his eyes land on you. “Oh, I feel like I should mention this; JB hyung wants you to have my number just in case anything happens and you need some help.” You don’t question it as you pull your phone out and exchange numbers with the man. “Alright, so I’ll leave you to your own company. Just give me a call or a text if you need anything, yeah?” Yugyeom flashes you a smile before leaving the apartment.

When Jaebeom steps into his apartment at three a.m., he half expects a mess and half expects that you would’ve taken care of his cats as well as Yugyeom said you did. He’s pleased when he’s greeted by the sight of his cats scurrying to greet him at the door, but he’s less so when he sees you passed out on the couch with your laptop on the coffee table.

Jaebeom frowns. Didn’t he mention that you could use his guest room? He takes a step closer, realising that you must’ve passed out unintentionally. The soft glow of your laptop screen gives him a glimpse of your unfinished reports and he sighs softly. Grabbing a blanket from his room, he gently lays it over you before pretty much knocking out the moment he gets into his bed. He barely even feels his cats climbing into bed with him, all five of them missing his company for the week he was gone.

When you wake up in the morning, your mind doesn’t even register that there’s a blanket on you until you feel it in your hands. You look around the apartment in confusion. You definitely didn’t have a blanket on you since you weren’t planning on staying in Jaebeom’s apartment that night. It’s only when you hear the snores coming from his bedroom that you realise he must’ve finally came home. The sound of you moving around seems to catch the attention of Koonta, the black cat padding through the open door of Jaebom’s bedroom and towards you.

“Good morning,” you hum as you crouch down and pet the male.

“Morning, neighbour,” Jaebeom’s raspy voice greets you. You look up from the cat to see him standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a lazy smile on his face. “Thanks for taking care of them for me. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“I drank like two bottles of your beer, I’ll take that as you paying me back.” You stand up from the ground with a small smile.

“Care to stay for breakfast?” His offer makes you hesitant.

“I honestly feel like I shouldn’t…” you trail off.

“You’ve spent a whole week taking care of my cats. It’s the most that I can do.” Jaebeom doesn’t wait for you to say anything before he’s heading into the kitchen. You watch as his other cats slip out of his room, chasing after their cat dad. “Could you feed them while I make breakfast?”

“Sure.” You do what you usually do, pulling the bags out of the cupboard and filling the bowls. “I’ll bring Odd into the bedroom.”

“Oh, hold on,” he stops you. “Let me show you this.” Jaebeom crouches down in front of Odd and places his finger in front of her. “Your bowl only.” He lets her head to the bowl, but when she tries to reach for the others, he gently pulls her back. “No. Odd. Your bowl only,” he says more sternly this time. He holds his hand in front of her face for a moment longer before you both watch as she obediently heads straight to her bowl. You watch in awe as she focuses only on her bowl.

“No way,” you breathe out a chuckle. “I tried doing that a few days ago and she refused to eat out of her bowl.”

“She only does that when I’m here. My friends have tried doing it before too,” Jaebeom laughs as he watches his cats eat. “It doesn’t work unless I’m doing it.”

“You are her father after all,” you quip, causing him to let out a louder laugh. You glance over at him, noting the way the outer corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. Jaebeom returns to making breakfast while you attend to his cats, watching to make sure Odd doesn’t try and eat out of her bowl. You’re surprised that Jaebeom was all it took for her to stop eating out of the others’ bowls.

The rest of the morning is spent with you sharing a breakfast with Jaebeom, learning more about his life. His cats are all rescue cats. He says it's because he feels bad whenever he sees stray cats roaming around the area and his cat children are the result of him being unable to hold back when he sees them.

“I feel like I should let you know that I might disappear a lot,” Jaebeom says as he takes his empty plate into the kitchen.

“Is it work?” you question, following him with your own plate in your hands.

“Yeah, it needs a lot of… last minute attention,” he nods. You refrain against asking him to elaborate more on it. It does, however, leave you wondering as to what he does that would need him to disappear often. “Thank you for taking care of my children,” Jaebeom glances over at how Koonta seems to be all over you. “I see that Koonta has taken a liking to you,” he chuckles.

“He actually only started to warm up to me after Yugyeom came over.” You crouch down once more to pet the black cat. “Oh, I didn’t end up buying any cat food because I didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“That’s fine,” Jaebeom reassures you. “Again, (Y/n), thank you so much for this.”

“It’s no problem,” you wave it off with a smile on your face. “Just give me a heads up next time and maybe don’t come banging at my door at 3 a.m. next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughs.

“Just let me know if there’s anything else that you need help with. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Thank you, (Y/n). I’ll see you around.”

“On the balcony again, huh?” Jaebeom smiles when you turn his way. If you’re being honest, you’re only on the balcony because he’s there. You notice that he usually spends his Friday nights drinking away on his chair while Nora sleeps soundly in his lap, Baire occasionally coming out before Jaebeom shoos him back into the apartment.

“Yeah.” You lean against the metal rail and look out, letting the cold breeze hit your skin. The air is cold, but it isn’t cold enough that you don’t actually want to be outside. You honestly would rather be outside if it meant that you could spend more time talking to Jaebeom.

“Here,” Jaebeom holds out an unopened bottle of soju which you take without much question since he would often share his drinks with you whenever you’d meet up. He glances over at you when he takes a sip of his alcohol, watching the way you unscrew the cap, your hand fiddling with the metal cap. The moonlight isn’t that bright tonight, but as the clouds move, the light slowly casts over your face and gives Jaebeom a clearer look of your face. He wouldn’t deny he’s definitely taken a liking to you, but he knows it’s dangerous if he does.

“How are the cats?”

“Good,” he nods, taking a swig of his beer. “But I feel like lately they’ve been a bit more active. They seem to like having you around.” Jaebeom glances over at you as you chuckle.

“They’ve really warmed up to me the last time I came over.” You bring the bottle to your lips, a small smile growing on your face.

“I feel like Koonta might like you more than he likes me now,” Jaebeom quips, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Does he?” You angle your body towards him, your amusement growing when you see his smile.

“When I came home yesterday, he scratched at the door after you left—wanting you to come back or wanting to follow you out.” A chuckle leaves his lips when he finishes talking, the bottle of grape soju in his hand raising to his lips. “Just take that as a sign that you’re now my designated house sitter.”

“I personally don’t mind,” you hum, “you were right after all.” Jaebeom gives you a curious look; one that honestly matches the ones his cats give you. “Your cats make good company.” Jaebeom laughs at that, the sound sending warmth straight into your heart. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you once again. It was always like this. You’d come out onto your balcony, Jaebeom would offer you a drink and you’d chat or just sit in each other’s company until one of you would head back in.

It wasn’t much of actually spending time with each other, but the both of you enjoyed it. Jaebeom would never admit out loud that he wanted you over more. He had thought about inviting you over for more dinners other than that night before when you were locked out of your apartment. He turns away from you to look at the sky instead. The stars are covered by the clouds, but Jaebeom’s able to catch a glimpse of them before turning back to you.

God how he wishes he could actually ask you out without the constant fear hanging over his head. For the sake of your safety and his, he holds back. Jaebeom keeps the relationship platonic despite his want to be more with you. You’re simply his friend, his neighbour, and his go-to house sitter.

Jaebeom: (Y/n) [3:00] Are you awake? I’m so sorry it’s so late

(Y/n): Sorry, I was doing work [3:05] What’s up?

Jaebeom: Watch the cats, please? [3:06] You can sleep in the guest room if you want

(Y/n): Sure [3:07] I’ll be over in like 5 minutes Let me get my stuff

“Baire, don’t scratch the couch,” you whine for the third time that night. The male simply stares at you before dragging his claws down. “God, Jaebeom is going to actually kill me—stop it!” You pull yourself off of the dining chair and make your way towards him. Upon seeing your approach, Baire runs away from the couch, making you sigh. “So, you know it’s a bad thing yet you still do it?” You cross your arms over your chest, watching as he scurries up the cat tower in the corner of the living room.

Baire dives straight into the cat hammock at the top where Koonta is. The black male yelps at the sudden disturbance of the Russian Blue. “Little asshole,” you sigh before moving back to the dining room where your laptop is. Odd and Cake have made themselves comfortable on the dining table, curling up on both sides of your laptop while Nora rests on the chair beside yours. It seems that they’ve all gotten more comfortable with your presence. Rather than running away like he usually would, Baire is more playful around you.

You also realised how Odd was slowly starting to listen to you whenever you’d scold her for trying to steal food from her cat siblings. The days that you spent taking care of them whenever Jaebeom wasn’t home was starting to show just why he loved them so much. They were all absolute bundles of joy that would just light up the apartment. You even found yourself spending your days when you weren’t at work over at Jaebeom’s place only to head back to your own to sleep.

“Mreooww~” Cake mewls your way. You look up from your laptop to see her lazily watching you.

“What is it, sweetie?” you gently nudge her face with your hand. She closes her eyes before laying her head on your arm while you continue working. Your phone buzzes beside you, making you turn to see a notification from Yugyeom.

Yugyeom: Noona, how are you? [13:39] Wait, am I allowed to address you that way?

(Y/n): You’ve been addressing me that way for the past month [13:39] Why ask now lol Baire won’t stop scratching the couch [13:40] Every time I try to move closer to him when he does, he runs away

Yugyeom: Haha [13:40] JB hyung says he does that a lot

(Y/n): Jaebeom would actually kill me if he found out Baire scratched up the couch [13:41] He said the next thing he loves more than his cats is his couch I don’t understand why That man is a mystery to me [13:42]

Yugyeom: Don’t worry about it too much [13:43] He’s weird like that I actually got some ramen somewhere nearby your building I’m gonna drop some off for you

(Y/n): What [13:45] Nooooo Gyeom, it’s okay D:

Yugyeom: Can’t stop me c: [13:46] I’m already in the lobby I’ll be at hyung’s apartment in like 5 minutes

You stare at your phone, knowing well that he had only told you that now to stop you from stopping him. You put your phone down with a huff. Yugyeom had started dropping by more often to either check up on the apartment or to check up on you. Overtime, he had started just dropping by to talk to you, bringing along food or snacks for you. The more time you spend watching Jabebeom’s apartment, the more often Yugyeom would pop in unannounced.

The knock on your door makes you lean back in your chair as you hear the door unlock, Yugyeom’s head peeking into the apartment with a bright smile on his face. “You know, you really didn’t have to bring me ramen,” you mutter as he steps in with a red plastic bag in his hands.

“You mentioned that sometimes you skip meals because you’re working,” he hums as he places the bag on the table. “JB hyung also told me to make sure you're healthy too.” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Did he?”

“Yep.” You watch silently as Yugyeom takes the packet out of the bag as well as the wooden chopsticks. “JB hyung’s like that. He cares for everyone around him, but he’s been bothering me extra over making sure you’re healthy.” He flashes you a smile.

“O-Oh,” you sit upright as you let the thought settle in your mind. “Could just be because I’m caring for his cats, really,” you quip. Yugyeom laughs at that, taking the seat across from you that isn’t occupied by any cats.

“Hyung may seem a bit mysterious at times, but he really does care for the people that he asks favours for. He’s like that. He always feels like he needs to repay people who help him.”

“Is that why he keeps buying me food whenever he’s around?”

“Most likely, yes,” Yugyeom nods. “He likes to use food as a way to repay people. He might also take you to the bar a lot to buy you drinks.”

“So that’s why he’s so chill about me taking his beer,” you lean back in your chair in realisation.

“JB hyung lets you drink his alcohol?” There’s a bewildered look on his face. “JB hyung buys us drinks, but he never lets us take the beer from his fridge.”

“Really? I always ask him if I can and he always lets me,” you tell him. Yugyeom’s nose scrunches in confusion.

“Maybe that’s his way of paying you back,” he simpers. “Eat up before your ramen gets cold.” You look down at the bowl, only them remembering that there was ramen in front of you. “How’s work been?” he asks as you start eating.

“It’s the usual,” your shoulders raise into a shrug. “It’s been getting busier lately because we’re been trying to snatch up a few clients and they’re apparently really hard to convince sometimes. Since I’m part of the team that’s supposed to handle them, I have to do most of the reports and the planning for us.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to get them in the end,” Yugyeom chirps. “I have faith in you, noona.” His encouragement sends a wave of joy through you.

“Thanks, Gyeom.”

(Y/n): I’m dropping by the pet store to get some cat food [20:01]

“You guys will be fine on your own, right?” You turn to the litter of cats watching as you pull your coat off of the counter.

“Nyiaoooo~” Baire mewls. You check your phone once again, hoping to see a message from Jaebeom. When there’s none, you just assume he’s busy and slip your phone into the pocket of your pants.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys in about an hour.” You slip your coat on and step out of the apartment, making your way down the building. The pet store wasn’t too far away from your building, making you opt to walk rather than taking any bus to save up on money. You dig your hands into the pocket of your winter jacket, huddling yourself further into your coat. When you approach the store, you’re pleased to see that it’s only started closing, meaning you have about ten minutes to run in and grab whatever you need.

You step in, being greeted by the store clerk, though you’re sure they were hoping no one would come in at the last minute. You’re quick to grab the bags you need, paying for the cat foot before making your way out. “Why is cat food so heavy?” you huff to yourself as you keep having to adjust your grip on the two bags.

You drop the bags when a hand suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an alleyway, hand clamped over your mouth. You’re shoved against the cold wall of the building, your eyes wide with fear as you stare at the man.

“You work for that dickhead, don’t you?” he growls. Your body is frozen in fear as you stare at him.

“Boss, we could probably get his attention if we bring her along,” the man beside him chuckles. There’s a handful of them behind him, watching you intently.

“We could use you. Your pretty face could finally get his attention,” he lets out a dark chuckle before glancing at the other man. “Get the truck ready. We’re bringing her with us.” Before he can do anything else, the sound of a gun firing almost deafens you. You watch in absolute horror when you see the man behind him falling to the ground and into a pool of his own blood.

“Yeah right.” You look towards the streets and see Jaebeom. But there’s a gun in his hands. Jaebeom—your neighbour—has a gun in his hands and he’s not only shot someone, but he’s holding it to the man who was going to kidnap you. “Get (Y/n) out of here. I’ll take care of these bastards.”

Hands are on your shoulders and you scream when the sound of another gun is fired. “Noona! It’s me! It’s Yugyeom!” the younger man frantically says. You turn to him with wide eyes. “We have to go.” He pulls you away before you can even say anything else, dragging you away from the alley with two other men.

“Get her inside, I need to help Jaebeom,” one of them orders Yugyeom. The younger male nods, pulling you into a black van and closing the door.

“BamBam, drive!” he yells. The van swerves out of it’s spot. Your mind barely has any time to process what has just happened. You stare ahead as Yugyeom’s hand runs up and down your back gently. There’s two other men in the van, one of them in the front with the driver while the other one sits behind you and Yugyeom.

“Here,” the one behind you hands you a water bottle. Your hands shakily reach out to it, giving him a nod of thanks.

“(Y/n) noona, are you okay?” Yugyeom asks softly. When you try to speak, the image of the man from before is flashed across your mind, and suddenly, Jaebeom. Jaebeom enters your mind. Jaebeom, your neighbour who killed someone, is still in the alley.

“J-Jaebeom…” you manage to stutter out.

“Jaebeom hyung is fine,” he reassures you. “He has Jinyoung hyung and Mark hyung.”

“H-He… shot someone,” you look up at Yugyeom. He has a conflicted look on his face as he turns to look at the man behind you.

“Yeah, JB hyung does that,” the man behind you says. You turn to him and he’s giving you a look as though he’s used to the kind of reaction you’re having. “We do that.”

“W-What?”

“He never mentioned what we did, huh?” Yugyeom sighs. “The reason why JB hyung kept having to disappear so often was because he would have to go under the radar or if we had ‘issues’ that we needed to settle.”

“JB hyung will be fine,” the other man reassures you. “I’m Youngjae,” he smiles.

“(Y/n),” you mutter out. “S-So, you guys k-kill people?” You look up at Yugyeom.

“Only when we have to.” Your brain struggles to actually comprehend the thought. These men kill people. “We don’t kill just because we want to.”

“We do it when we have no other choice,” Youngjae adds. You turn to him.

“JB hyung only shot that guy in the alley because if he didn’t, they probably would’ve hurt you instead.” Yugyeom’s hand finds your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze, “you’re going to think it’s your fault, but trust me noona, it’s really not. Those guys have been trying to get JB hyung’s ass for the past three years.”

“We’ll take you to a safe place. Somewhere you can rest.” You nod at that, your mind still struggling to process what had happened. The rest of the ride is filled with chatter among the four men. The man in front—who you had learned was Jackson—was constantly critiquing BamBam on his driving.

“Dude, if you keep driving like that, you’ll end up killing everyone in the back too,” Jackson huffs.

“Hyung, shut the fuck up before I kick you out,” BamBam glares at him.

“Eyes on the road!” he exclaims.

“I’ll drive with my eyes closed. Just you watch.” BamBam closes his eyes with his hands still on the wheel, the van swerving precariously.

“Bam, open your fucking eyes and just drive like a decent human!” Yugyeom yells at him. The driver huffs as he complies.

“It’s not like me crashing the van would do anything.”

“With noona in here, it would.”

“JB hyung would kill you if you got (Y/n) hurt,” Jackson snorts.

“He would actually run you over,” Youngjae laughs. You look between them, your mind too scrambled to actually be phased by what they’re saying. You lean back in the seat beside Yugyeom, your head pressed against the window of the van. You honestly don’t know where they’re taking you, but they all say that it’s a safe place. The exhaustion starts to settle in your body, your eyelids fluttering close.

Youngjae peeks over at you. “Why does JB hyung like her so much? He’s never really given much care to anyone else before,” he questions when he realises you’re asleep.

“Is it because she’s his house-sitter?” Jackson glances from his seat in the front.

“JB hyung just says to keep her safe,” Yugyeom shrugs. “He kept telling me to visit her whenever he was away to make sure she was eating enough and taking breaks.”

“Does he have a crush on her or something?” BamBam snorts. “JB hyung only acts like this around someone when he likes them a lot. He wouldn’t just shoot a dude in the head in public like that if he didn’t.”

Yugyeom turns to look at you, his heart starting to sympathise with you. You had been thrown into this situation just because you were taking care of Jaebeom’s cats. Now you had not only put Jaebeom in danger, but yourself as well. All because he had a soft spot for you.

When you come to, you’re in a bedroom you definitely don’t recognise. You slowly sit up, looking around half drowsy and half confused. The events from before fill your head and you assume that the bedroom you’re in must be that safe place Yugyeom had mentioned the night before. The door opens slowly, light from outside slivering into the dark room.

“You’re awake,” Jaebeom’s voice fills the room. You turn to look at him and nod slightly. “How are you feeling? Do you want anything to eat? Drink maybe? If you want to take a shower Jackson doesn’t mind letting you use his bathroom,” he rambles.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him softly. He takes slow steps towards the bed, sitting on the end of it. You sit upright in the bed, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you stay quiet; letting the silence fill the space instead.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I’m sorry I roped you into this.” Jaebeom turns to you, his eyes holding pure guilt. “You can… you don’t have to watch my place anymore if this whole situation,” he gestures to himself, “scares you.” You stare at him for a moment without saying anything. You didn’t want to leave him and his cats all alone, but you weren’t exactly too keen on the idea that Jaebeom was in this kind of a gang. Hell, if he killed people when he needed to, what other questionable things has he done?!

“I don’t know, Jaebeom,” you whisper out.

“It’s okay.” You catch the way he swallowed thickly. “I’ll, uhh, leave you to your own space. If you need anything, the guys are outside.”

“Okay.”

“Get some rest, (Y/n).” Jaebeom gives you a small smile before stepping out of the room where his friends are, their attention immediately moving to him.

“Is she okay?” Mark asks, glancing away from the TV to look at him.

“She said she is. I didn’t want to intrude, so I’m just letting her do her own thing.” He takes a seat beside Mark on the couch, watching as the elder continues playing PUBG.

“Hyung, if she leaves, who’s going to take care of your cats?” BamBam questions.

Jaebeom turns to him and sighs, “I feel like somehow that’s the least of my worries right now.” Everyone’s heads snap towards him. Mark’s controller is tossed onto the couch while they all rush to surround him.

“You’re more worried about (Y/n) than you are about your cats?” Youngjae gives him a bewildered look and the leader can only nod. None of them could believe that for the first time ever, Jaebeom was more worried about a person rather than his own cat babies.

“I don’t know—I mean—Yugyeom can always check on my cats while I’m working. He’s the one who knows how to lay low anywhere,” he glances at the younger male, “but…”

“But what?” BamBam presses. Jaebeom struggles to word it out. You were almost kidnapped all because of the soft spot he’s harboured for you in his heart. He knew he should’ve taken the extra step into making sure you weren’t wandering around on your own when word started to spread that he was closer to his neighbour.

“I just like being around her. I don’t want to have to move again, but I know that if I don’t, then I’ll just be putting her in more danger.” Jaebeom’s words are soft as they leave his mouth. He really doesn’t want to have to pretend you never existed. He’s never seen his cats take a liking to someone so quickly like his cats did with you. Jaebeom’s also never seen someone so quick to offer to watch his apartment. He barely even spoke to you before asking you for help yet you still came by and took care of his home when he couldn’t.

“Hyung, you haven’t…” Youngjae trails off.

“Are you falling in love with her?” Jinyoung speaks up, his voice making everyone turn to look at him. Jaebeom inhales deeply as he looks at his friend before nodding slowly.

“I think I am.” The air seems to change in the room as all of them realise why he kept asking Yugyeom to check up on you.

“So, what do we do now?”

“It’s all up to (Y/n) noona and whether or not she’s willing to still be involved with JB hyung,” Yugyeom points out. “If she doesn’t want to, JB hyung will have to move out again and pretend he never knew her.”

“And if she does?” BamBam looks to Jaebeom.

“Then we have to start keeping her safe too,” he mutters. “But, the fact that those assholes would go as far as trying to kidnap her so publicly just shows that they’re probably willing to go an extra mile just to get my ass to give them money.”

“Money that you don’t even owe them, might I add,” Mark scoffs, “they’re just being greedy little rats. I can’t believe they’re ballsy enough to risk their entire operation being blown just because they want you to pay up.”

“Jackson,” Jaebeom turns to the man who’s too occupied with Youngjae’s dog to actually be listening to what’s happening. “Jacks.”

“Huh, yeah?” he whips his head towards Jaebeom.

“I have to head back home to check on my cats. Can you keep (Y/n) safe?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“I’ll head back with you. I don’t want anything happening just because you’ll be on your own.” Mark stands from the couch, smoothing down his shirt before moving to Jaebeom’s side.

“In that case, I’ll just head home then,” Yugyeom announces as he stands.

“I’ll drive you back,” BamBam offers.

“Yeah, no, I’ll drive you back.” He raises his hand in front of his friend, giving him a look.

“Fine,” he groans, pulling the keys out of his pocket and slapping it into Yugyeom’s hand.

“Jackson, you’ll be fine on your own?” Jinyoung questions as he stands up, “I have some things I need to settle at the office.”

“I’ll be fine. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just call you guys,” Jackson nods.

“Hyung, I’ll follow you to the office,” Youngjae pipes in as he clasps the leash onto Coco’s collar.

“If she doesn’t come out in a few hours, check up on her,” Jaebeom adds before leaving. Jackson bids his friends goodbye before locking up, moving into the living room to clean up.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting on the bed, listening as Jackson moves around his home. You could tell from the sound of the front door opening and closing that they had all left. You let out a sigh and fall back into the bed. You didn’t want to leave Jaebeom all alone with his cats, but you were honestly frightened with what you had unintentionally uncovered. The biggest question at the moment is whether or not you could just look past Jaebeom’s profession.

There’s a knock on your door that Jackson’s voice follows, “(Y/n)? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you call out, sitting up in the bed to see him peeking his head into the room.

“How are you feeling?” He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, far enough from you that he isn’t invading your space but enough that he silently wants to offer you his company.

“Tired. Confused. I don’t know,” you sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” Jackson reassures you. “If I were in your position I wouldn’t know what to do either. I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, but just know that Jaebeom would never do anything he doesn’t have to. He looks out for his own, but when the time comes, he has to do something. If he didn’t do what he did in the alley they probably would’ve killed you instead.” You stare at him, his words only adding to the stress in your mind.

“Thanks, that totally helps me with a decision,” you roll your eyes sarcastically.

“I mean, you don’t necessarily have to make a decision.”

“I have to choose whether or not I want to keep in touch with Jaebeom.” Your fingers play with the soft fabric of the blanket that covers your legs. “I don’t want to pretend he never existed, but I’m scared of him.” Your legs instinctively curl closer to your body as you sit there, suddenly feeling more vulnerable. Whether it’s Jackson’s presence or the idea that Jaebeom scares you—you’re not too sure.

“If you really want to keep in touch with him, then you have to push aside a few morals. But,” Jackson pauses, “I’d understand why you would choose the other option.” He continues to sit there for a while longer before he feels like he is invading your space. “I’m gonna go take a shower. If you need anything, my bedroom’s right beside yours.” He lets out a soft grunt as he stands up from the bed.

“Thanks, Jackson.” You manage to offer him a small smile. “Thank you for letting me stay over too.”

“We can’t let you head back to your place since those guys might be lurking around your building. Plus, Jaebeom probably wouldn’t let you out of his sight unless your safety is guaranteed,” he chuckles as he leaves you to your own company. Your eyes move to look at the wall instead, letting the options weigh in your mind. You let out a frustrated sigh when your mind once again reaches a dead end, hanging your head as you think through it once again.

It’s either you leave him or you stay.

“Thanks for the ride, Jackson,” you turn to him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know when you’re up there so I know you’re safe.” You give him a nod as you step out of his car. Making your way up to your apartment, you stop outside of Jaebeom’s door. You made a decision. You want to stay. Jaebeom is worth the trouble. You press the doorbell, hearing it ring from within the apartment. When there’s no answer, your shoulders sag slightly before you decide to just head into your own home.

(Y/n): Hey [12:00] Jackson just dropped me off I’m home now

You switch to Jackson’s chat, sending him a quick message before placing your phone onto your counter. You hadn’t showered while spending the night at Jackson’s place since you didn’t have any of your own clothes, so you make your way into your bathroom first. Stepping out, you check your emails to see if you had missed anything important before your phone catches your eye. When there’s no notification on your screen, you open Jaebeom’s chat once again.

Pending

You tilt your head curiously, wondering where he would be. Your messages would typically go through. If he was in hiding any time when you were watching his apartment, they would still be sent immediately. You place your phone back onto the counter, thinking that maybe it just needed more time to go through. You go on with your day, finishing up whatever work you had with your phone sitting beside you as you waited for any kind of a message from Jaebeom.

When your phone dings, you check it immediately. You’re slightly nervous when you see the long message from him. Then, your heart drops. You shoot from your couch, almost knocking your laptop off of the table in the process. You pay it no mind as you grab Jaebeom’s extra key off of your counter. You step out into the hallway, turning to look at his front door.

“No, no, no, no,” you repeat as you jam the key into the door and turn the lock. You burst into the apartment and you stare at it in disbelief.

It’s empty.

Your chest tightens, tears welling in your eyes and your throat feels like it’s suddenly dry. There’s no sign of anyone living there at all other than the marks of where his sofa was supposed to be. How the hell did he move out so quickly? And how did it happen overnight?! You rush into his bedroom—empty. You move to the guest room—empty. Even his old chair on the balcony is gone. Everything was gone; Jaebeom was gone. Tears fall freely down your cheek. You don’t even know when you started crying.

How could he just leave like that? He didn’t even wait for you to say anything. You fall onto the ground, looking around the empty apartment. There’s the faint smell of what you can only describe as cat fur lingering in the air. “What the fuck?” you breathe out in between sobs. Your phone dings in your hand once again.

Jaebeom: I’m sorry [19:17] But you’re not safe around me I can’t risk you getting hurt Thank you for everything.

2 years. 2 years was how long it took before you finally felt okay. Add another year to that and you had almost stopped thinking about Jaebeom completely. Of course, his memory remains etched in your mind forever, but you slowly started to push past it. After coming to terms with the fact that he was actually gone, you felt less restrained by the thought of him. Though, you did start to feel more anger than you did sadness. The fact that he left so suddenly without anything else made you upset. Were you that easy for him to just let go?

You had moved out of your old apartment, realising that the building itself was reminding you of him too much. You had enough money to find an apartment closer nearer to where you worked, making it easier for you to actually get there compared to the previous 45 minute train ride. This apartment was only ten minutes away by foot, making it easier for you to get around without much worry with time.

“Welcome back,” the elder woman greets you politely. “Luna is waiting for you in the playroom.”

“Thank you, Mrs Park,” you give her a warm smile as she lets you into the back room while handing you the dog harness. Upon your arrival, your black Dobermann happily greets you. The dog was large, but she was a total sweetheart. “Hey, sweetie,” you giggle as she tries to climb up your legs despite her large size. “Let’s go home, yeah?” You slip the harness onto Luna, clipping the leash onto the back before leaving the dog café.

It’s easier for you to leave her somewhere where you know she’s getting the attention she needs, but her presence makes you feel more secure. After the whole incident with you almost getting kidnapped, walking around on your own just didn’t feel as safe as it used to; especially at night. With Luna by your side, at least you felt protected. The Dobermann is also the perfect housemate. She happily runs around the apartment, livening up your home. You honestly miss the environment of Jaebeom’s apartment with his cats, deciding to finally get your own pet after a whole year of debating.

“Mummy needs to stop by the pet store for a moment, okay?” you glance down, seeing Luna look up at you and letting out a soft bark in response. You chuckle softly as you pull her into the store, walking around with her following attentively. While the dog café did offer a daycare for your companion, it didn’t sell the dog food you would usually get for Luna. When you step out, your eyes are glued to a packet of treats in your hand as you read through the recommended servings for a dog the size of yours. You look up at the feeling of eyes on you and your whole body freezes.

There he is.

Jaebeom stands in the park across the street, seemingly in disbelief that he’s seeing you as well. He’s frozen in his spot as he stares at you. The packet in your hand slips out of your grip, your lips parting in disbelief that you were actually seeing Jaebeom. Your hand lets go of Luna’s leash when you break into a sprint. You’re lucky the light was green, meaning you weren’t putting yourself in danger as you mindlessly ran towards him. Forgotten feelings fill your mind the closer you get to him, tears filling your eyes the nearer he gets. Even with the sun long gone and the moon taking its place in the sky, you know it’s him.

You’re full on sobbing by the time you throw yourself into him. Jaebeom stumbles backwards, falling onto the ground from the sudden impact. It takes a moment before he realises it’s actually you in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him as you cry into his chest. His own wall breaks. All the feelings that he had locked away in an attempt to forget you filling his entire being as he holds you in the middle of the park. Jaebeom’s grip around you tightens when his eyes well with tears, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck. When he imagined being able to hold you, he never thought it would be after years of disappearing from your life.

“You asshole,” you choke out, your fists weakly hitting his chest. There’s anger in your heart from him leaving without even talking to you, your hands punching at his chest as you pull away. “You fucking asshole!” you sob out, your hands moving to cover your face. Jaebeom reaches out once more but you push him away. “You just left! Without even asking me what I was going to do!” You throw your hand against his chest once more. “I wanted to stay with you, you piece of shit!” When you swing your hand towards him again, he catches your wrist.

“I know,” he mutters as he catches your other hand, holding your wrists to stop your actions. “I know, (Y/n).” He pulls you into his chest once more. “I know. And I’m sorry,” Jaebeom holds you tightly as though he’s afraid of you disappearing. Your fists grip his hoodie tightly, as you continue to sob against him. “I’m sorry, (Y/n). I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks towards the end of his sentence as he shuts his eyes. “I should’ve waited for you. I’m sorry.”

“Where have you been this entire time?” you sniffle against him.

“Here and there,” Jaebeom hums as he rocks you back and forth gently. “Trying to hide—trying to get by with having my cats stay at Jinyoung’s place while I constantly move around. I realised after a while that I really missed our talks on the balcony.”

“I miss those too.”

“I also realised that I miss seeing you in the hallway when I’m checking the mail. Or when we get home around the same time. I miss seeing you whenever I’d come home and see you asleep with Cake and Koonta curled up by your side whenever you’d pass out on the couch.” Jaebeom takes a deep breath as he pulls away from you to look into your eyes. “I’ve missed you.” Your bottom lip trembles as more tears start pouring from your eyes. “And I’m seriously so fucking sorry, (Y/n). I’m sorry for leaving out of nowhere. I’m sorry for putting you through all that trouble and then just disappearing. I’m… so sorry.” He pulls you back into him, his body gently rocking back and forth to try and help you calm down.

You stay in his arms for a bit longer, simply basking in his warmth. You had always wondered what Jaebeom’s hugs would feel like. Now that you’re actually feeling it, you love it. It’s comforting, calming. He holds you like you’re made out of glass, a gentle yet firm touch. You feel safe. Jaebeom’s embrace is comforting enough that you’re no longer crying—your previous sobs resolving down to sniffles.

“Hyung!” A familiar voice calls out, making you both pull away to see Yugyeom approaching the two of you from the streets. “I found this dog and—” he stops talking when he sees you, his eyes widening immensely. “Noona!” Yugyeom drops the leash in his hand and wraps his arms around you, lifting you into the air. You let out a surprised yelp at the action, but Yugyeom’s still tall enough that your feet dangle freely while he hugs you. “I thought I’d never see you again!” He places you onto the ground after a moment with the biggest smile on his face.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” you chuckle as your hands rest on his forearms. “I just saw Jaebeom across the street. I didn’t think I’d see him ever again either.” You turn to look at Jaebeom as he brushes his pants off.

“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to be here at all. I was just wandering around with Yugyeom because I felt stressed from work,” he smiles. You feel a nudge on your hand, your attention moving to Luna; whom you had honestly completely forgotten about.

“Oh my god! Luna!” you gasp when you remember that you have a dog.

“Is she your dog?” Yugyeom questions. “I saw her wandering around on her own. She had a leash so I assumed her owner must be around here somewhere.”

“You got a dog?” Jaebeom asks, his attention moving to the large dog that sniffs around the two men curiously.

“Yeah, after the whole… incident… I didn’t feel so safe walking around on my own.” You watch as Luna gets more and more excited the more she lingers around them. “I also missed having pets around. I think maybe those few months spent watching your cats really made my own apartment feel lonely.” The corners of Jaebeom’s mouth slowly lift into a smile. You feel your own heart easing up. “Are you guys busy? Maybe we could head back to my place and get a drink?” your suggestion makes Yugyeom nod, glancing over at Jaebeom before leaning towards your ear.

His hand covers the side of his face to stop Jaebeom from reading his lips, “Jaebeom hyung’s been really upset over leaving you.” He pulls away with a cheeky smile on his lips. “I should head back and make sure JB hyung’s cats are okay, so you two go ahead.” You can’t contain your smile as it grows when you turn to look at Jaebeom. You extend your hand towards him.

“Care for a drink on my balcony?” Jaebeom lets out a soft chuckle, the memories from years ago flooding his mind.

“Sure.”

206 notes · View notes

yespolkadotkitty · 4 years

Text

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

So at some point, @alwaysbethewest (thankyou for the beta read!) mentioned that our mutual friend @keeper0fthestars has a thing for wearing Marcus Pike’s shirt/people wearing his shirt. So, then after Mary and I screamed at each other for a bit, this happened. Marcus Pike/f!reader

lovely gif by @beccaplaying

Warnings: None. Well, shameless fluff, a tablespoon of angst.

Word count: 1700

Your alarm sounded from the kitchen. T-minus two hours until Marcus came home.

Double-checking everything was still in place, you jumped in the shower, hoping that the love of your life wouldn’t be mad at you. Or worse, sad. Or even worse, disappointed.

You started to feel a bit sick.

But you’d started now. And you were reasonably confident of the outcome.

Two weeks ago, you’d come home early from a night out. Marcus and his old army buddy Zach were on the couch, finishing a pizza, ribbing each other. You‘d poked your head in to say hi, then started to brush your teeth in the bathroom, when you heard Zach and Marcus step into the hallway.

“I don’t know, man,” Marcus was saying, pitching his voice low. He didn’t realise you had the door ajar. “Can I do it a third time? I’d all but sworn off dating when I met her, and proposing… could seriously mess it up. I can’t risk it. She’s beyond. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

Zach replied with something unintelligible, then they exchanged pleasantries and you heard the door close, before Zach’s footfalls sounded on the stairs.

Now, you dried yourself off, thinking of that night.

No one should have to propose three times.

When you’d met Marcus, his eyes were so sad. That soulful brown didn’t warm when he smiled. His eyes didn’t quite crinkle at the edges. It wasn’t until you’d been dating a month that you saw him full-on smile when you arrived at his apartment, your arms full of flowers.

“What’s this?” he’d asked, perplexed.

You passed the bouquet of daisies to him, their sunny faces making you happier immediately. “I was thinking, what should I bring to dinner? Then I thought, women don’t buy men flowers. Why not? Everyone should have flowers.”

And he’d smiled. Full-on, gorgeous teeth, crinkly-eyed grin. And you’d already been falling in love with him, but at that moment you tumbled headlong over the cliff, without a single regret.

You hung your towel and moved to your wardrobe, then hesitated. Marcus loved seeing you in his clothes. In fact, he’d once said it was his favourite sight. He’d left a shirt at your apartment a couple months into your relationship and you’d forgotten to return it, wore it sometimes. You always ended up having fantastic sex when you wore it unbuttoned too low, tied at the waist.

You’d kept it because it smelled of him, and when you two finally moved in together, after many discussions, that white shirt with the faint blue-lined check still lived in your wardrobe.

You tugged it out now, slipped it on over your lace bra, buttoning it just enough that the edge of red lace could be seen. You pulled on low-slung jeans, knotted the shirt’s ends.

One hour to go.

You’d prepped dinner earlier - took the afternoon off so Marcus wouldn’t suspect. His favourite - pancakes with lashings of maple syrup and bacon. The pancakes sat in a stack on the stove ready to be warmed-up, the bacon ready to fry when the timer got closer to when he’d be coming through the door.

After fixing your make-up and spraying on your favourite perfume, you set some music playing - Marcus always said it’s impossible to go wrong with Otis Redding, and as usual, he was infuriatingly right - and just as you wondered if you’d forgotten something, his key sounded in the lock.

Shit, the ring!

You dove for the bedroom, snagged the box from the very, very bottom of your underwear drawer and stuffed it into one of your pockets.

“Hey, sweetheart, I-” Marcus stopped in the doorway, his brow furrowed. “I smell pancakes…?”

He looked good. He sometimes took his tie off on the way home, and this was one of those days, his collar popped two buttons, his jacket loose.

The beard he’d grown for undercover work shortly after the Teresa debacle still hugged his face, scruffy-neat. You’d convinced him to keep it. It made him sexier, emphasized his fantastic jawline and bone structure, and besides, you loved the feel of that scruff on your skin, under your hands.

You walked over to greet him, saw his gaze dip down to his shirt, watched his lips curve slowly, those chocolate eyes warming up. “Well. Seems like I might be in for a treat.”

He tugged you close, filling his hands with your ass, pressing into you, and you lifted your face for his kiss, opening when his tongue traced your smile. He made a low hmmm in his throat and you vowed not to get distracted.

“Sit, baby,” you encouraged.

“But… this shirt.” He nibbled at your pulse point, traced a finger down the open neck of his button-down.

“Sit. Let me spoil you.”

Narrowing his eyes, Marcus let you go, then tossed his keys in the pot by the kitchen door. “And Otis Redding? Is there… something I should know? Is it my birthday? ‘Cause I’m willing to change it to today for this.”

You smiled, chucked the bacon in the skillet. “There’re two beers in the fridge.”

He shrugged his jacket off, hung it on the kitchen chair as was his habit, then pulled the door open. “My favourite kind. Sweetheart…”

“Sit,” you dictated.

Marcus winged a brow up. “Mmmmm. I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

Otis crooned Try a Little Tenderness as the smell of bacon filled the kitchen, rich and pleasantly greasy.

“How was your day?” Marcus asked, cracking open both beers and placing one at your elbow. He rounded the counter, sat at the table. You were momentarily distracted by the sight of him tipping his head back slightly to drink, exposing the very biteable line of his neck, and the pan spat hot grease on to the curve of your breast, naked above the low lace bra.

“Shit!” You shut the heat off, crumpling to the floor, your hands on your inflamed skin. “Should’ve got an apron,” you groused, more to yourself than to him.

“Whoa!” Marcus rushed over, bending down to assess the damage, his whiskey-gold gaze roaming over you, cataloguing every detail. He stood to grab a cloth from the kitchen cupboard, ran it under cold water, pressed it to the curve of your breast. “Better, sweetheart?”

“Much better.”

His eyes roamed over your face. Always thinking of you, your Marcus. Always caring, never putting himself first. So you had to put him first.

When he stood, saying, “I’ll get a bandaid,” you had a sudden idea. As he turned, you snagged his hand, knelt up.

“Marcus Matthew Pike.”

He froze, then very slowly, turned to face you. The look on his face was deadly sombre, like he was waiting for the axe to fall. You squeezed his hand.

“I think I have loved you since the day we met. I love your smile. Your kindness. Your ability to see the good in everything. Some of that was taken from you, but you’re still the guy who sings in the shower-”

Marcus winced. “Off-key.”

“Don’t interrupt my proposal. You’re the guy who looks forward to a rainbow rather than complaining about the rain, the guy who saves stolen art and learns the story behind the piece, and tells it again and again, so the artists live forever. That’s a man I want in my life forever. Marcus, will you marry me?” You dug the box from your pocket and popped it one-handed, revealing a slim, simple platinum band nestling in soft leather.

“Sweetheart…”

You held your breath,

Marcus knelt to face you, cupping your cheek. “I was working up to it. I swear I was.”

You shook your head. “No one should have to propose three times.”

He bent and touched his forehead to yours, sighing, his eyes warm, soft, crinkled at the corners. “I love you. So much. I love waking up next to you. I love it when you fall asleep on me during old movies. I love that you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I’d be. So yeah. Yes, please, I would very much like to marry you.”

You held his hand, slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly. The way Marcus fit inside your heart, taking up all the available space, his edges lining up with yours.

“I know guys don’t usually have rings, but-”

“I love it. I love you. I love that you did this.” He tugged you in for a warm, soft kiss, then overbalanced, pulling you with him, and you sprawled together on the kitchen floor, laughing together.

Eventually you remembered the bacon, drizzling it with maple syrup in the pan and tearing off bits of pancake to dip in the sticky mixture, feeding each other as Otis Redding serenaded you, and it was perfection.

Much, much later, Marcus showed you how much he loved his shirt on you. But how much more he liked it on the bedroom floor.

Pedro Pals, assemble! @gamingaquarius @a-seeker-of-imagination @knittingqueen13 @alldatalost @dornish-queen @lackofhonor @songsformonkeys @pascalitomarcuspike @cryptkeepersoul @pedropascallion @seawhisperer @thegreenkid @pajamasecrets @starlight-starwrites @agirllovespasta @scarlettvonsass @mourningbirds1 @oloreaa @mrschiltoncat @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @emmy-dandiliom918 @holographic-carmen @heatherbel @nelba @abuttoncalledsmalls @winters-buck @buckstaposition @opheliaelysia @jaime1110 Please ask to be added to, or dropped from, the tags!

#marcus pike fic #marcus pike x reader #in which I choose a random middle name for Marcus and Mary approves #FUCK OFF PATRICK JANE

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [21]

Chapter 20 - Chapter 21 - Chapter 21.5 OR Chapter 22

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ 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.

cr.

Baking is a mastery. It’s an ability that needs to be practiced and refined. It requires discipline and patience, especially when things go wrong. It’s problem solving and creative with never one right answer. It’s practically magic in a silver bowl, a whisk, and an oven. And Jungkook is the best wizard in this kitchen. He preheats the oven to three hundred and seventy five degrees fahrenheit. Then he cuts parchment paper to line a baking sheet and moves to brush the ramekins with melted butter. Jungkook adds the tablespoon of white sugar and rotates the ramekins until the surfaces are coated in it. Five ounces of seventy percent dark chocolate is put into a bowl with two ounces of semisweet chocolate and he melts it over a saucepan with hot water on low heat. Afterwards, he adds the egg yolks until the mixture stiffens. Jungkook wipes his sweat before he mixes in the tablespoon of flour and butter, reducing the heat to low and adding in some cold milk. It’s thickened after three minutes and he adds salt, a pinch of cayenne pepper as a secret ingredient, and mixes. The bowl is left over hot water while he whips egg whites with a pinch of cream of tartar, adding sugar after a bit to create glossy, soft peaks. Jungkook transfers the egg whites into the soufflé base, folding it in gently one third at a time and then he divides the mixture to bake for a full fifteen minutes. What he’s left with at the end is the best chocolate soufflé on the planet. “What do you think?” “It’s really good.” Aeri politely smiles and you roll your eyes. “You don’t need to feed his ego. He’s been raving about it for days now.” “And you’ve eaten at least ten of them.” Jungkook grins and you mutter incoherently, unable to really protest against the claim that’s all too true. The soufflé is puffed and crusty on top, but still gooey and jiggly in the center. It’s risen to its maximum height without collapsing whatsoever, uniform all around. And the texture is cloud-like, soft with the chocolate taste melting on the palate. It took two weeks to perfect — but the outcome made the effort all worth it. “I call it the ultimate soufflé.” Your brows raise. “The ultimate? Not Jungkook’s ultimate?” “Nope. The ultimate.” He smirks and leans into you. “Want another one?” You hope he doesn’t know that it takes a lot of strength for you to reject. Jungkook’s good at baking. That much is clear. You’re not sure if he’s as good as you are of course, but anything that has to do with chocolate practically has his name on it. His chocolate soufflé is no exception. It’s fucking delicious. Enough that even Yoongi asks for seconds and Taehyung almost starts to cry. But you don’t want to admit just how good it is since his ego’s been boundless these past few days. “How does it feel to be in a relationship with the best chocolatier on Earth?” he pipes up suddenly when you haven’t even said a single word for the past five minutes. And when you tell Jungkook he’s not a chocolatier yet, he laughs and tells you he will be soon while condescendingly patting your head like you’re his pet. As if that wasn’t enough, he interrupts snuggling time by rolling over with a pompous look on his face. “I’m just so happy right now.” “Why?” You’re expecting a corny answer along the lines of — ‘because you’re here’. But instead Jungkook sighs dreamily and says, “I really nailed that soufflé, didn’t I?” It’s annoying. You’re just trying to live your life peacefully but in every shape, way, or form, no matter the context, he just has to bring up that goddamn soufflé like it’s his child he’s so proud of. It’s not like you aren’t happy for your boyfriend — frankly, you wouldn’t mind if he bragged or boasted about it to others. But he’s been constantly chirping about it in your ear. And any complaints from you would just warrant his grins and questions of if you’re jealous of his skills. “I don’t know what to add to my portfolio,” you mention passingly one afternoon after much contemplation. Your boyfriend hums. “You need something with chocolate, right?” “Yeah.” “Well, you could make my soufflé. I’m sure it would help with your grade a lot, but—,” Jungkook draws out the syllable with another sly smirk, “my recipe’s a secret. Sorry, babe. Wish I could help.” In spite of your inner exhaustion and vexation, for the sake of being a good girlfriend, you simply nod and let him have his moment. Even if Jeon Jungkook was being unbearably arrogant and reminding you of why you hated him about a year ago, he was clearly happy with the recipe he worked so hard on and you didn’t want to step on that. He deserves some personal limelight, so you let him have it. But luckily, you don’t have to bear the weight of his smug ass by yourself for long. “Yuna!” Your arm waves over your head. The high schooler smiles, rolling her luggage behind her and meeting with you halfway. Immediately, you engulf her in your arms even when she grumbles and resists. “How was the trip here? You’re not hungry, are you?” “God, you’re like my mom,” she huffs. “It was fine. Hey, Jungkook.” Yuna shifts and smiles warmly at your boyfriend who nods, greeting her as well. “Hey.” “So this is the school you go to?” You grin. “Sure is!” The last time you were with Yuna, she expressed interest in the professional baking and pastry arts program. You didn’t expect that she would actually come visit during the week-long break for a tour but it was a surprise you welcomed. You hope you can take her interest and curiosity and inspire her. “Namjoon and Sejeong packed some cookies for you. They told me to say...thanks….for showing me around when you’re busy and stuff.” “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to.” You smile. “Tell them I said thanks too.” “Taehyung’s joining us,” Jungkook reads off his phone and then pockets it. “Apparently, he’s bored.” You shrug. “Fine by me.” “Who’s Taehyung?” Yuna asks. “Just a friend of ours,” you say to ease her obvious worries of the stranger. The three of you wait a few minutes, getting caught up with one another as Yuna talks about what her last classes were about. But soon after, the tall brunette is strolling over with his hands buried in his white hoodie pockets. His hair is disheveled like he just rolled out of bed and you don’t think that’s too far from the truth. “Jimin ditched me to go on some date with the chick from his classic desserts class,” he whines when he gets in ear-shot distance. “I thought I was going to die of boredom.” “Tough life,” you scoff and don’t notice Yuna who’s frozen next to you. Her eyes are wide on the stranger, gaze sweeping up and down at him. She swallows hard before stepping forward and making herself known. “H-Hi. My name is Kim Yuna.” “Oh yeah.” Taehyung grins easily. “They told me about you.” “Did they? I’m glad.” She giggles and tucks her hair behind her ear. You exchange expressions with Jungkook. This was an awfully familiar situation. “I’m Namjoon’s niece, their boss during their internship.” “I’m Kim Taehyung.” They shake hands and Yuna goes in for the kill without hesitation— “Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” Taehyung is flustered, taken aback by the blunt question. “I….don’t have a girlfriend.” “Great.” Yuna answers swiftly with a big smile. You have to admit, she’s bold. The girl has some guts even you don’t have. And you’ve never witnessed Taehyung this perplexed either. It’s hard to catch someone as spontaneous as him off guard. “How old are you?” Taehyung frowns, an apprehensive expression etched on his features like you’re telling him to touch a gooey substance in the corner of some dirty bathroom stall. “I turned eighteen in May,” she declares bluntly. But Taehyung looks unconvinced despite his slow nod. “That’s barely legal,” he mutters and only you and Jungkook catch it. It’s hard to hold back laughter, but you try your best and interrupt— “Should we start the tour?” You show her around campus, walking through the corridors, directing her where the lecture halls are and what classes are where. You tell her what it was like for first years and you show her the dormitories, the lockers, the dining hall, and the kitchen area. All in the meanwhile, Taehyung sticks to Jungkook’s side like gum. It’s obvious that he’s intimidated by the petite high schooler and it’s an amusing sight. But Yuna is a go-getter and somehow manages to get Taehyung beside her to answer her numerous questions. You and Jungkook fall back, no longer showing her the way and you’re reduced to watching their backsides. “You know what I want to eat right now?” Jungkook turns to you, mumbling, “My soufflé.” Here we go again…. You internally sigh, but maintain a stiff smile. “Uh-huh.” “I should make it for Yuna. She’d be blown away.” “What?” The younger girl twirls around at the mention of her name. Jungkook grins at her. “You like soufflé? I make the best chocolate soufflé here.” Yuna blinks, too innocent to know better. “Really?” “Your soufflé isn’t even that good.” It’s a lie. “I bet I could do it better.” That’s an even bigger lie, but you can’t stop it once it’s spewed out of your mouth. It goes silent. Jungkook stops walking. Taehyung turns around. “You think you can make a better chocolate soufflé than me?” Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow, taking personal offence. You shrug — it’s too late to back down now. “Why not? Can’t be that hard.” Jungkook scoffs with a stupidly smug expression, calling your bluff. “You can barely temper chocolate.” “You underestimate me, Jeon,” you bite back and his lips curl. “Fine. Let’s see then.” // It was a mistake — something said on impulse, after days of irritation bubbling in the pit of your stomach. It came tumbling out before you could know better, before you could think twice about the consequences, but now you’re standing in the kitchen at an impromptu competition. “Welcome to the annual Jeon and L/N competition, everyone!” “This isn’t annual,” you mutter at Taehyung’s unnecessary extravagance. He corrects himself— “Welcome to the first annual Jeon and L/N competition, everyone!” The word spread like wildfire, but luckily kept only in the group chat. The last thing you needed were acquaintances, classmates, and teachers coming to watch. The guys were noisy enough. And it’s a testament proven with Yoongi coming over, Hoseok sprinting to get here, and Jimin calling to tell everyone to wait for his date to be over. All of it was enough pressure you could handle at the moment. But even Aeri had caught wind of what was going on and decided to come by. It’s clear that there’s still tension between her and Hoseok. You don’t miss the strained expressions they exchange with one another before taking seats on the opposite ends, but you’re glad that they can at least be in the same room as one another. It’s an improvement. A sign of moving on. Yet you don’t dwell on them — not when you have bigger fish to fry at the moment. “Over here we have Y/N who believes she can make a better chocolate soufflé than Jungkook, an aspiring chocolatier who literally took weeks and weeks to perfect this recipe of his to make it the ultimate soufflé—” “Alright, that’s enough,” you cut off Taehyung, the self-designated commentator, before you start actually sweating. Jungkook is competitive. Everyone and their mother knows that. And that fact alone makes you nervous. He might just throw you entirely under the bus and burn your relationship to the ground for the sake of winning. You’re worried — but you don’t show it. You can’t. If he knows you’re fearful, he’ll have the upper hand. So you feign indifference. After all, if there was one similarity between you and Jungkook, it was that you weren’t going to back down without a fight either. You were born a winner and it was going to stay that way. “And to make it more fair and maximize the amount of desserts we get to eat, over here we have Jeon Jungkook who will be making éclair. A pastry made with choux dough filled with cream and topped with chocolate icing. It is a specialty perfected by Y/N, an aspiring pâtisserie chef who dreams of running her own wedding cake catering services someday.” “Two very different dishes that the opposing member has a speciality in.” Taehyung continues to narrate and nods his head, inadvertently making Yuna giggle, “Who can make it better? You’ll be the judge of that.” It’s ridiculous, but you’re not going to cave in or surrender. Not when Jungkook’s ego was insurmountable and you’d never hear the end of it if you gave up. An hour and a half is put on the clock. Your counters parallel to one another while your friends are gathered at the other, ready to watch, eat their snacks and hang around. You momentarily wonder why you never have the privilege of relaxing like them. But you don’t think about it for too long. The moment Taehyung starts the time, you begin. You preheat the oven and begin buttering the ramekins. “How do you feel, Y/N?” Suddenly a whisk is thrusted in your face, almost puncturing your cheek. It’s a makeshift microphone that you push aside. “Fine.” “What are you doing now?” “What does it look like?” You push Taehyung aside, grabbing sugar to coat the dish. “Well alright then.” He laughs and slinks over to Jungkook’s side who’s humming underneath his breath. He’s much too casual as he finishes greasing a cookie sheet and moves to combine butter and water in a saucepan. “How about you, Jungkook?” “Never been better.” The side of his lip is curled. Jungkook’s black long sleeve is pushed up to his elbows to reveal his forearms, and one peek at him is enough to feel your blood boil. It’s obvious that he doesn’t see you as a threat whatsoever. “You think you’re going to win?” “Unfortunately, I do.” Jungkook plays along with Taehyung’s antics, head so far up in the clouds. “Why unfortunately?” “Well, it’s not everyday I want to crush my girlfriend, but sometimes I just have to.” Jungkook twists to you. “Sorry, babe.” You ignore him, too busy glancing at the label and dumping the chocolate into a small bowl with butter. In the meanwhile, Yoongi chews on his chips and scrutinizes. “Are you sure that’s the right kind?” “Fuck off, Yoongi.” It’s not like you haven’t done this before — you’re just not sure if yours can ever beat Jungkook’s. You whisk in the six egg yolks and add a pinch of sea salt until the melted mixture thickens. At the same time, Jungkook is singing under his breath, forming his pastry dough and piping it out onto his baking sheet. You don’t know how he works so fast, but you concentrate harder, ignoring Jimin asking Yuna if she likes the place so far, disregarding Yoongi’s snarky comments and Hoseok’s music that he turns on as background noise. Once you place egg whites and half a teaspoon of cream of tartar in the electric mixer to beat, you’re finally able to take a moment of relief. Jungkook is also at his mixer beating his heavy cream for the filing. “Nervous, babe?” You scoff at him. “As if.” “Alright then.” Jungkook smirks, almost as if he finds your snobbery endearing. You hate how he can see right through you, but you still maintain the facade anyhow. At this moment, he was your rival first and your boyfriend second. “It smells so good.” Yuna inhales. Aeri smiles at her. “That would be Jungkook's choux pastry in the oven.” “Who do you think is going to win?” Taehyung suddenly asks the high schooler, thrusting the whisk in front of her. She smiles gingerly. “I don’t know. Who do you think will win?” Taehyung hums and ignores the protest of his friend when he says— “I’ll put my money on Y/N.” “Want to bet on it then?” Yuna asks, lashes batting back and forth. “Loser takes the other person to dinner.” “What about you, Chim?” Taehyung immediately diverts his vision, pretending that he doesn’t hear her deal. He even disregards Aeri and Hoseok’s stunned expressions of Yuna’s forwardness. “Who do you think?” You add the sugar carefully, one tablespoon at a time until the egg whites hold glossy, stiff peaks. Then you’re gently folding the egg whites into your soufflé base until it’s a light and fluffy mixture ready to be put into the ramekins. But you know it’s too basic. It would never beat Jungkook’s. So in the midst of your inner hysteria, you sprinkle in a teaspoon of cinnamon and nutmeg. Yoongi, the only person who’s actually watching, quirks his brow but doesn’t say anything. The soufflés are popped into the oven and by then, Jungkook is still working. He’s letting his pastries cool on a rack, his filling already in a piping bag, and he’s busy making the icing. “How do you feel now, Y/N?” “The same.” You shrug. “I know I’m going to win, so…” Your boyfriend lifts his chin, a small smirk gracing his lips. “We’ll see about that.” “You aren’t intimidated whatsoever?” Taehyung asks. “I mean Jungkook’s soufflé was fucking deli—cious. It was like gooey on the inside and so soft, but really crispy on the outside and very, very chocolatey. It felt like an explosion of flavour—” “Alright.” You shut him up and move over to steal Yoongi’s bag of chips, much to his dismay. In the few minutes that you finally get to sit down and rest, you observe Jungkook. In spite of his arrogance, he’s working quite hard. You’re impressed he agreed to make éclairs in just an hour and a half since it usually takes two. But Jungkook works quickly, efficiently, and your eyes can’t help lingering on his exposed forearms, the furrow of his brows, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his pink lips. God. As competitive as you are, a part of you doesn’t even care who wins — you already feel like a winner. The beeping of your oven breaks you out of your daydream. “You should wipe off your saliva,” Yoongi mutters out of the corner of his mouth, knowing full well that you were ogling Jungkook in silence. You glare at the dark-haired man, a silent threat not to say anything lest it becomes clear you have other priorities other than winning. You take your soufflés out of the oven, breathing a sigh of relief when you see them. They all rose. A few with them have cracks and they’re not uniform whatsoever, but it’s more than you hoped for. The aroma of chocolate fills the room, making Yuna antsy in her seat. You begin dusting the top with powdered sugar. “Two minutes left, chefs,” Hoseok warns with a grin, peeking over at Taehyung’s timer. Jungkook is long finished piping his éclairs, already drizzled the chocolate icing over top of it and allowing them to set in the fridge. You step back from your counter as well. “I’m done.” “Same here.” “Finally!” Yuna is cheering. “Can we taste them now?” You’re the first to go since the soufflés are still piping hot. It’s six servings with Yuna receiving the first one since she’s the guest of honour. Then the rest are passed to Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok, Aeri. They dig in without hesitation and you watch with your breath hitched. “It’s really good,” Hoseok says, chewing in his cheek. “I like it a lot.” Aeri smiles. “You did a good job, Y/N.” “Thanks.” Even if you don’t win, you feel great at your attempt. Yuna hisses when it burns her tongue and she hums after letting it cool. There doesn’t seem to be any complaints from anyone. “The top can be crustier. It’s baked well through though,” Yoongi notes pompously after sniffing his spoonful for the past minute to take in the scent. “Not half bad.” “But is it better than Jungkook’s?” Taehyung asks. It’s silent. No one can give a blatant answer. Jungkook is appalled that they even need to think about it. “Give me that.” He grabs Jimin’s and takes a spoonful. Jungkook bites, chews, and his brows furrow. “What...is that? There's something in there that’s weird. Like the aftertaste is off.” In hindsight, cinnamon and nutmeg probably wasn’t the best idea. But you don’t say anything and you plop your hand on Yoongi’s shoulder as an implicit warning not to speak about it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” It’s your turn to take a taste and the moment it hits your tongue, you know the outcome. It’s miles and miles away from Jungkook’s standards. Your soufflé is good, but not crying-worthy. It doesn’t bring tears to your eyes and make you remember your mother’s home cooking, how you gathered around the table for dessert during warm holidays. The situation only gets shittier when you take a taste of Jungkook’s éclair. The custard is tangy and smooth, pastry crispy and buttery, chocolate icing sweet at all the right places. And all you can think is — what. the. fuck. This guy had to have a cheat code for life. There’s no way he can be so good at everything he does. It’s impossible. It’s unbelievable. It’s unfair. “What do you think?” Jungkook stares at you in particular, trying to gauge your reaction. You swallow hard, managing a half-hearted shrug. “It’s decent.” It’s clear with his smile he can see you’re trying to hide your true feelings. “Want me to save you seconds?” “I’m fine.” You wave your hand at him, despite your heart saying otherwise. It causes Jungkook to chuckle, but he doesn’t push to spare your pride. It’s hard to tell if his éclair is better than yours — but the mere fact that Jungkook hadn’t even had time to perfect his recipe or practice yet made it this good has your knees weak. You’re glad you don’t have him as your competition on a daily basis anymore. “This is pretty good,” Yuna admits, licking off her fingers. Yoongi seems to be enjoying it as well, eating quietly as he studies it. Hoseok is making noises at the back of his throat and Taehyung nods in approval. “Have you only made this once before?” Jimin asks. “Once or twice. Can’t remember.” Jungkook grins and that’s even more impressive. You’re conflicted of being proud of having such a talented boyfriend and being spiteful of him as a rival. Eventually, Taehyung dismisses the two of you for the rest of them to ‘deliberate’ and judge. You step out into the hallway and Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. “Don’t be too sad when you lose, babe. I’ll comfort you with my golden trophy.” “There is no trophy.” “Hmmm, how about a kiss then?” His nose bumps against you, smiling wide. You feign a pout. “I’ll think about it.” “Alright, love birds.” Taehyung pokes his head out of the door in less than two minutes. “We’ve made our decision.” You gather back together again. All of them are pretending to be very experienced pâtisserie chefs with decades of experience. It’s both an amusing and lame sight — but you don’t comment in case they decide to deduct your points and Jimin grins, reading off the paper he has in front of him. “Y/N, your chocolate soufflé was very moist and delectable. It had the perfect amount of sweetness. We found your techniques to be very competent and proficient. The presentation was great. The texture was very soft and the flavour was very deep. The aftertaste, on the other hand, was unique and different. It caused many to continue tasting to pinpoint what it was. You obviously accomplished what you set out to do and you made a very tasty dessert.” Jimin clears his throat. “And Jungkook, your éclair was alright.” “Y/N wins,” Yuna announces with giddy laughter, arms in the air. “Wait.” Jungkook frowns. “What?” “Me?” You point to yourself, starting to laugh. “I won!” “It was a consensus,” Taehyung spits in the midst of giggles. “This is obviously rigged!” Jungkook protests loudly. “Don’t be a sore loser.” Hoseok shouts and the rest ignore his outcry. Yoongi nods in approval. “Congratulations, Y/N.” You put your hand over your heart. “Thank you.” You didn’t plan this — maybe they were sick of Jungkook’s ego too or maybe they just thought it would be hilarious to see his reaction, but whatever the case may be, you’re glad that they have your back. You lean over to your boyfriend, giving a brief peck on his pouting lips. “This is so rigged,” he mutters, less upset after your kiss. You smile at him and quirk your head to the side. “Life’s rigged, sweetheart. But tell me, how does it feel to be in a relationship with the best chocolatier on Earth?” Jungkook scoffs, a grin spreads into his face. // Informal baking competitions are all fun and games, but it’s not so much at the end when there’s a mountain of dishes to wash in the sink and a whole kitchen to clean. The others have long left after satisfying their sweet tooths, so you and Jungkook have been hard at work yet again. But in the midst of wiping down the counters, your eyes stray to Jungkook’s pastries. He’s stepped out for a moment, so you take the opportunity swiftly by its throat. You lurch across the floor and grab an éclair to eat. But as you’re stuffing your face as fast as you can while relishing in the deliciousness, you don’t notice the man creeping up on you. “Having those seconds, huh?” You’re scared shitless, jolting, and you whirl around to see Jungkook with his shit eating grin that just screams ‘I knew it’. You’ve been caught in the act. There’s no denying it now. All you can do is swallow your mouthful. “So you liked it that much? You should’ve just admitted it from the start, Y/N. You know I can read you like an open book—” You grab Jungkook by the back of his neck and pull him in for a smothering kiss, just to shut him up. It’s a slow kiss, one where he cleans the cream off your lips and tastes the sugar on your tongue. It’s ambiguous who the real winner is. When you pull apart, you know you both feel like it. “Happy?” Jungkook laughs, nose scrunched and eyes crinkled. “Very.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook series #MORE FLUFF INCOMING

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