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thesoulshyperrealaslacreatura · 11 months ago

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The 2023 Annual Pie Baking Contest

– We will now start this edition of our pie baking competition with a few words from our special guest!

The announcer's message prompted huge roars from the audience (catching the announcer off guard in turn, as she – working under contract from an outsourcing company – did not expect such excitement coming from a 7-person pie contest). More yelling came as the recording appeared on screen. Therefore, as soon as the backup organizing team turned on the projector, they fled as quickly as possible for the backstage to see if their noise-cancelling headphones were to truly work properly. They began to understand the reason for receiving those in the first place.

– Welcome everyone to the Official Global Pie Baking Commission’s 2023 Annual Contest. It is an honor to be the special guest of this edition. As you know, I am currently under sentence for intentional homicide, so I am sincerely grateful that my presence was considered important enough for the Commission to set up this entire infrastructure for me to be able to speak here. Everyone, a round of applause for the Commission!

All attendees stood to celebrate with perfect composure – including the guest, whose head didn't completely fit into the camera as he raised himself from his chair. They soon returned to their seats, now even more united than before.

– Yeah... wow, I don't even know what to say. I- I mean…

The detainee began to tear up as he laughed, moved by the situation – the entire audience shared the same feeling and, in their own time, started to get teary-eyed themselves.

– It's just... it's... – by now he was reduced to stuttering, fully lacking strength to complete even one single, measly idea, inspiring several audience members to place their hands to their chest.

He took a deep breath, already thinking about bringing back stability to his speech. He tried his best to soften his gulps of air; unredden his face; relax his eyebrows and so on.

He thereby began to miserably bawl. The recording suddenly stopped as he curled in on himself. The audience stomped their feet to celebrate the guest like one would for a rock star.

After two minutes of a surprisingly solid rhythm coming from an explosive-sounding wooden floor, a rookie organizing assistant had to be forced by the rest of the team to make the final announcement, seeing as no one else was willing to do so. With extreme hesitation, she proclaimed:

– Let the- the pie evaluation begin! Yeah, uh... – Hearing the same screams, one thought came to mind: “They must really enjoy their pies.”

She was right. They really enjoy their pies.

Everyone there for the competition assumed their positions and began to wait – visible anticipation on their faces – until 10 o'clock sharp. 9:59. 9:59. 9:59. 10:00 – like automatons, they started moving again.

The judges approached the simple decorations of the first tent: some stickers with drawings of virulently smiling strawberries invited them to enjoy what a small wooden sign called “Vi’s Savory Strawberry Pie”. A girl in an apron approached excitedly.

– It's a strawberry pie, except I added a good dose of salt to it.

– Wait up! You're new, I can tell... – One of the judges, a very tall and well-dressed gentleman, reprimanded her directly while writing down in his notepad.

– You have to introduce yourself first, okay? – Another judge wearing cheap looking sandals explained, laughing.

– Oh, sorry, of course. – She seemed to have turned red like one of her strawberries.

To overcome tensions, the man in sandals tried his hand at some haphazard comment:

– I think you're Vi, right? Don't worry, it's quite common not to get the grip your first time round. But we here, we want to see not just the pie, but the experience as a whole to evaluate, okay?

– We want to assess whether the pie eating experience is fully concordant! – His colleague in galoshes said didactically.

– But yeah, we ask for everyone's name, even if it’s already known. – The one in a suit commented, nodding his head, entirely bluffing about actually understanding what she meant by that.

– Well, yeah, I- I'm Vi, as in Victoria, and my grandmother was also called Victoria, but with an “i”. And since the original recipe was hers, the name could be kept.

– So your name is not spelled with an “i”?

– No! – and, seeing the confused faces of the judges, she contorted her brain to see if it could make something understandable come out of her mouth – No, because yes, in this case! It’s written with an “i”, yes...

– So... – The fourth judge, who until then had been sending messages on his cell phone, was finally trying to catch up on what he had missed.

– So, I don't know why I said that.

– Haha! I get that. You’re cool. – He spoke, not having clarified anything, but, looking at the decorations for the first time, appreciating the designs.

She turned even redder.

– Well, as I said a while ago, it's strawberry with a good dose of salt.

– Oh really? Is that good? – the same judge, who Vi was finally realizing had a flighty appearance by nature, tried to get straight to the point while dangling his earrings playfully. It was now or never.

– Why yes! It's a family recipe. – And, offering the each of the judges a set of cutlery and a well-decorated slice of pie, she extended the invitation – Would you do the honors?

Trying to adapt to the fact that they had received very small plates – and mentally discounting this from the presentation and service rating – the evaluators started with the first cut. In an attempt to portion out a bite that contained an adequate quantity of strawberries, one could hear the simple sound of the fork delicately piercing a cushioning layer of cream. Just by cutting through the cream, the mind was already distracted from thinking that in a few moments they would have a good handful of it filling up their mouth just as its smell was already filling up their nostrils, and–

TAC!

Once that layer was finished, the extra strength of the evaluators reached the bottom of the pie far too easily as the cutlery collided with the plastic plate – hence the tambourine sounding noise. Curious about what had happened, they paid further attention to the phases of the composition, realizing that there was a practically hollow portion between the topping and the bottom; then a continuous sound. Granular. An hourglass? The passage of time was revealing the true nature of the pie...

Salt leaked as if it came from a punctured package – pristine, unaltered salt – agglomerated inside the structure of the pie. It seemed never-ending. In fact, the examiners didn't wait for the salt to finish dripping onto the plate before getting some pie in their mouths. They moved the strawberry pieces around with their tongues while they felt all those grains molding around their movements. When swallowing, the distinct irritation in the mouth from the pure salt that had not accompanied the rest of the food down the throat – accumulating itself under the tongue and in other corners. The judges kept looking at each other:

– The combination of the name and specificity of the recipe already makes you stand out with regards to what you’re promising with your pie. – The judge in galoshes pointed out as she furtively wrote something in her notebook.

– Yes, I actually liked it. – The judge in a suit said, adjusting his spine, as he bent over to eat instead of just bringing the plate up to your own height.

– Thank you very much.

The competitor turned to the only one who didn't comment anything, waiting for him to stop scratching his eyelids and express any opinion at all.

– If I may, well, ask what your thought were?

– What? Oh! It was actually good... Yeah! Yes, I liked it!

The one in sandals raised his hand, and as soon as he received Vi's attention, he reversed his movement. He voiced a tiny doubt:

– Can I just make an... addendum?

She nodded yes. He continued:

– Your cream was very wet; if the pie’s presentation didn't already make your lack of experience clear, that would have already given you away. It completely ruins the theme and honestly makes you look like a bit of a coward for not committing to the clear two-act structure – normality into absurdity – when you try to soften it with such watery toppings. Either your grandmother was too busy spoiling you to actually make something great or you imposed your own insecurities on her recipe and I don't know what would make you look worse. Either way it's deeply undignified, is what I mean.

Tensing up every muscle she could to keep herself from crying, Victoria desperately sought reassurance from the previous judges. The one in a suit began to speak, adjusting his spine:

– Yeah, I liked it, I just, I don't know... too. He spoke well.

– Well I... uh. I thought it was cool, personally – The one with earrings mentioned, with great difficulty on focusing on the woman’s eyes. – Yeah... – Neither of them inspired much confidence.

– But thank you very much for participating, yeah? Focus on your niche and next year you will bring something better, for sure! – And, with that, the woman in galoshes gestured to the entire group to head for the next assessment.

Victoria nodded; there was no way she was going back next year. She went back to a corner of the tent wondering if it was worth holding back her tears.

The well-dressed man, who had taken a while to keep up with the others, bent down again to lick his finger with some of the salt – still continuously dripping. Upon seeing the girl on the ground, he asked himself for a second whether it would be appropriate to say something, and concluded that it would be best to say nothing at all. Unfortunately for the judge, Victoria had already raised her face and was now looking directly at him, waiting to hear some other discouraging line; he had to meet these expectations with whatever seemed at least a little bit encouraging:

– You look pretty when you get like that.

Feeling proud to have helped out a struggling newcomer, he ran his ten fingers through the running salt at the same time with his eyes fixed on her, trying to preserve the friendly atmosphere he had built. Before that face covered in tears showed any reaction that could contradict the idea that he was doing a great job, the man took advantage of his height in relation to the tent to cut the line of vision that had formed between them by simply erecting his spine once more, and began to suck each of his fingers from left to right. He picked up the plate of salt on his way out, letting it spit out wherever he went.

The next tent had no thematic decoration. The scene was of a common market stall with a paper marked in Calibri text: “Sapient Apple Pie”. Galoshes and sandals, having spotted the sign, quickened their pace to a frenzy – it was a name that certainly raised expectations. Following that, a pair of earrings and a tie were made to dangle around the path, as the other two judges attempted to prevent a delay to the event.

– So… – Looking at the two men who arrived exhausted from their run, the woman operating the tent handed them each one Halloween-themed plastic cup of water.

– Thank you very much.

– Oh, I needed that. Cute. – He took the cup and started washing his hands, whose palms were entirely licked with traces of salt that he apparently had time to consume even amidst his rush.

They all waited for earrings to finish drinking, as his glottis released an aberration of a noise with each sip. The presenter was staring directly at his neck, which was originally in an attempt to figure out how it managed to create a sound like that – “originally”, as she was soon distracted by his mystical necklace, which looked a lot like the one she had lost in the last edition of the contest.

Trying to redirect the participant’s attention, the man in sandals cleared his throat, but ended up choking a little, forcing him to help himself to some water as well. The woman kept on anyway:

– Well, I'm just going to start… You must have already read my sign; you know what it’s about. I really thought of this project as an extension of last year's ideas, you know?

– So, it is a living being. – The judge in sandals began his round of interrogations while delicately massaging his neck.

– Yeah. It is deeply contemplative and especially concerned with the fact that we are merely in a text. But it’s just a pie.

– It has anxiety, then?

– Yes, I made sure it had some.

– Like, in the recipe?

– No, from trauma.

– What trauma?

She lifted her shoulders and looked to the side, yawning into her own leather jacket’s shoulder. The one in a suit yawned right away. The one in sandals wanted to yawn, but he pressed his lips together tightly – he let out a small “Excuse me” that no one heard – and then returned to asking questions:

– If we eat it, will it feel that?

– Perhaps. I dunno. Probably not. Feel free to do so; it won't complain anyway, it's just a pie.

After everyone shared a glance, searching for permission from others’ eyes, they considered themselves allowed to look at the pie with vigor. They quickly stuck their forks through the dough and filling to bring the delicious flavors to their mouths. Their faces seemed to show they were enjoying it. The pie wasn’t enjoying it as much.

The one in a suit shook his arms from side to side, in anticipation for what he was about to say:

– It has a little dulce de leche filling. I love that!

The one with the earrings clamped his mouth shut, preparing to swallow something large, as one would for a pill. His head then arched itself all the way back, straightening the throat. As soon as it passed the neck, the man commented, with a mix of curiosity and sadness:

– Mine had some sort of stone thingy in it...

– Oh, it does that sometimes.

The judges all nodded their heads in understanding. As soon as he swallowed his slice, the sandaled judge finally blurted out the question he had been thinking of ever since he saw the sign:

– Have you stopped to think about the ethical implications of this?

– Yes!

– Oh, all good then! – He said, as he took a forkful from the edge, his favorite part of most pies.

The judge in galoshes held one thought for a while, until she was certain of the fact that her contribution made sense.

– And, come here, didn't you think about decorating with Frankenstein, or something like that?

– The monster?

– No, the doctor. Linking the pie with a strong cultural icon already gives it a sense of familiarity, you know? Firstly, you already have the gothic horror aesthetic. Then people see a shitty guy who created life just to make it suffer and you can say, “do you want to feel like you’re as shit as him”?

– Yeah, people want to feel like shit nowadays. – The judge with earrings remarked, even with his mouth full of pie, as he turned on his cell phone to take a photo of the slice he was eating.

– I don't... – The judge a suit made this comment with what seemed to be a lot of sincerity, which made the girl herself feel pressured to put her hand on his shoulder while he took a bit from each of the pies on his plate.

– Did you consider having the pie scream out as it was being eaten, or was that feminine compassion of yours unable to handle it? – He questioned without looking up; he was busy trying to stop the salt – still leaking from the previous slice – from spreading into the current pie.

– What? Uh... – She tried to ignore the comment and hold out a new plate, one that didn't have salt spilling out of it, but the evaluator didn't even notice her gesture. Seeing that the question was of interest to the other judges as well – everyone now looking at her with some strong intrigue – she recovered in time for an explanation. – The thing is… they used to be able to talk just fine, but the pies from when I was working out the recipe quickly gained access to a shared database that formed a sort of collective subconscious… which meant they started storing information about who would come to eat them to try to improve their manipulation tactics, so…

– Oh!

– Yeah... I had to send my mom to therapy for a while.

– But your cat, how is little Crackling holding out? – the judge made a point of asking before finishing writing down notes in her mare-themed notebook (complete with a cover of two of them in the middle of a jump at nightfall).

– He’s fine! He had a urinary infection a good while back but has now recovered!

All the judges shared one face of compassion for good old Crackling. Even without realizing it, the fact that they couldn't see him this year had already had already mentally neutered how they evaluated the entertainment factor. Still, the judge went on to question:

– But then the database thing, can they still do that?

– I dunno.

Having received the answer, she pretended to be making a note, but was finishing a sketch of a new mare, trying to adjust the leg muscles to make it look less like a dog. The one in sandals took over, continuing the conversation:

– I should just note that my slice had a little section of it that might have gotten stuck in its mold. This is already starting to dampen the experience of being able to ruin a living being myself, you know?

– It's... kind of like a banana, right?

– More or less that.

She nodded, indicating that she understood the criticisms, in spite of not having even paid close attention to who said what; she just made a mental note indicating “more banana”. Looking at the man in a suit, who seemed to put some of the salt that was leaking out – still – from the previous slice on top of the apple pie, she wanted to ask:

– And you? What did you think of it in the end?

– I really like your dress, it looks tight on you.

– OK? – She ignored the comment and focused on the accessory that seemed familiar to her – What about you, crystal necklace guy?

– Huh? – The one with the earrings looked down, in confusion, until he realized that he was, in fact, wearing a necklace. He wanted to correct her and say that it was not made of crystal, but rather, by his own assessment, some polycrystalline material, but he reoriented himself towards letting out an honest opinion – Ah, me. I didn't quite get… apple? Why choose apple?

– Well, I actually chose banana peel as a flavor, but it ended up tasting like apple anyway. – She was about to complement her sentence with the hypothesis that he had, somehow, taken her necklace from her in last year’s contest, which she was becoming more and more certain of, but first:

– Does she lose points for that? – the judge looked at the man in sandals, awaiting his decision. He quickly had his query answered:

– Knowing that it wasn't her intention is kind of unfortunate, cause apples are very… original sin, you know?

– Although, that’s not quite apple either; that’s another fruit entirely. – The judge in galoshes commented, starting to draw another female horse; she had decided that the two of them would be kissing.

– Even so, culturally, you understand? – The one in sandals reiterated his point, no longer looking at the competitor before him.

– So do I lose points or not?

– Well, we'll discuss that along the way.

– Good luck! – They shouted as they already began moving towards their next baker to evaluate.

– Hey! – She dashed towards the judges, having leapt over her own table. It wasn't as impressive as it sounds. It was a short table. Even so, they all stared at the woman, continuing their journey as usual regardless, as they had already mentally removed themselves from being in conversation with her. The girl, now too tired to articulate even minimally complex ideas, just shouted – Necklace! Mine! – as she ripped it directly from the earring judge's neck, slightly choking him.

In everyone’s heads, they had just witnessed a robbery in broad daylight, but they didn't really care – the choking man coughed a little, raising his hand to his chest, but soon straightened himself up and followed with the others. The woman, now with her necklace back, returned to her comfortable sheet of paper with text in a Calibri font. Seeing the pile of salt that had accumulated around her tent, she bent down, scooped up some, and licked her hand in a cat-like fashion. Only at that moment did she stop to think about the fact that, apparently, she had stumbled into a gothic horror aesthetic completely by accident. She reflected a little more on how to make this aesthetic something more “banana”. She stopped reflecting, as she got really tired. Salt good.

This time, they all walked together to the next participant's table, who advertised his mysterious lemon pie with a special poster made via commission by some hyperpop artist. The judge in a suit seemed particularly excited, expecting stuff truly worthy of coming from pros out of the next two pastry chefs.

– Hi hi, welcome!

– I like the poster already. – The judge with earrings arrived already excited about what this tent would bring, as he remembered who ran it.

– I don’t. – The judge in galoshes said disappointedly, as if this was not part of her assessment and just a personal comment. It was absolutely part of her evaluation, he had just lost points in the aesthetics and presentation category.

The judge in sandals didn't know why, but he felt a primal rage toward the man presenting pies in front of him. "Huh, weird." He didn't remember the past year enough to understand how he could feel so intensely like punching someone, but still retained a relaxed stance.

– Well, this pie is mine, of course. I'm not here to plagiarize pies, right, haha! – Nobody laughed. That had happened before and it was a mess for everyone involved. – But yes, I made this one with lemon because the sourness is really important for what I want to achieve with it, you know... like... yeah, haha...

– Let's see, then... – the judge in a suit announced as he stretched forwards to grab a slice for everyone. – But what is it that–?

He fell hard to the floor before he finished the question. With it, the slice of salted pie, which was left completely shattered on the ground, gave way to a pile of salt that seemed to replenish itself as it spread around the place, slowly expanding in volume.

– Oh, yeah. The pie kills you when you touch it.

And, with a confused look, the other judges tried to understand the situation. After a long time of processing, the woman in galoshes finally got over her bad first impression of the poster and let her enthusiasm for the potential of what she was witnessing take control of the conversation:

– Oh! Now I get it! You're going to open a business selling these pies, right?

– I don't know; I was- ha, yeah, I was kind of thinking about that, but I'm not sure.

– Sell it, sell it! The suicidality market is growing, you know? Makes for good business.

– But don't you think that a single-use product like this kind of, like, inherently limits its own sales?

– You don't seem to have a head for entrepreneurship, do you? Look... – she turned over her notebook until she found a page that didn't contain mares. – Think about it like this: the way your product works, it could expand into a somewhat adjacent mercenary market, see?

The man had his horizons expanded even further. Thinking about how valuable this experience had already been, he dropped a single tear, which instantly vaporized once it reached his pie.

– What is it? – The judge asked, moving the notebook away so that the crying wouldn't even have the opportunity to get her horses wet. The one in sandals thought about making a joke about holding on to one’s horses, but he couldn’t figure out how to do that.

– No, nothing... You know, it's just. God! You guys really... Wow. Before these pies I really felt like I had nothing, and now all this... oh...

The judges impatiently watched the baker, who forced himself to take a deep breath as he stared into the serious eyes that surrounded him.

– I thought about this pie when I was going through some… difficulties, you know? So I hope that if I can sell this, it could end up as a symbol of recovery – like, I'm the one who kills people now, look...

– Oh! OOOOHHH! – The one in sandals shouted, in a state of ecstasy that seemed to have triggered a slight tachycardia. – I remember you! You're... you're the guy I thought was like the opposite of an Übermensch, right? That's why I want to punch you so bad... Okay. It's kind of making sense to me now.

No one knew exactly how to react to the comment, so the commenter himself returned to the evaluation questions:

– Since we're already talking about this, this is the third time I've had to ask this today, but haven't you thought about the moral aspect of this?

– Oh, totally. A divine intervention happened to me a few weeks ago and God said it was ok.

– So you believe in singular, objective morality? – The judge laughed to himself: “Yeah, a very ‘last man’ thing.”

– I don't know. Meeting God made things a little bit more complicated, I guess.

– Hey, what did God look like? – The judge with earrings took the opportunity to answer a curiosity he had while admiring the necklace around his own neck, having already forgotten about the fact that it was not supposed to be there anymore. As he looked up, he realized he had made the competitor blush in a worrying red. He looked like he was about to explode.

– Kind of like you, to be honest. Ha ha...

– Cool. – he didn't understand what was the significance of that. To distract himself, he grabbed a slice of the lemon pie. Cream good.

Trying to remain calm, even as he loathed his colleague for interrupting his questions, the man in sandals took a leaf out of his hair, not knowing exactly where it had come from. Upon realizing he could follow his line of questioning, he did just that:

– Was there a lot of planning required for it to actually kill people?

– No, actually.

– How did you do it then?

– I just, I don't know, really wanted it to do so?

Between three mares discussing their marital problems, the judge in galoshes made sure to note that the third baker must have quite a lot of willpower while drawing a line between “third competitor” and “call Uncle Henry” with a skull symbol.

– Just one final thing, we're gonna to have to ask you to clean up what was left on the floor yourself before someone steps on it by accident. We rented this place, you know?

– Of course, of course.

The judges left the pastry chef with a handshake. They were starting to get tired. The one with earrings, in a hurry to finish, tried to remember what the protocol would be:

– What do we do about Smith?

– Burn the body, no?

Completely unintentionally, they had both given the same answer an exact octave apart. This appeared to cause the necklace's material, which was basically 75% monocrystalline, to glow slightly, but its wearer was preoccupied with another matter.

– No, no, about the grades he would give to the other competitors.

– Oh, that? – The one with sandals picked up some of the salt that was now piling up almost to his feet before continuing his speech. – I already have this prepared, let me get them to play one of the announcements. You can move on to the next pie and I’ll arrive shortly.

The one in earring nodded in understanding.

– Yeah, you go ahead on your own, I just think my galoshes got dirty from the slice that fell off. – She said, unzipping the back of her shoes so that she was left with just the inner galoshes. These were red; the ones before were transparent.

The remaining judge found the two different excuses strange, but followed along to a tent that was about as well put together as it gets. Loads and loads of cardboard and glitter in purple and gold made for invitations to a new world; undoubtedly a new world of flavors. The unconventionally shaped pies promised an unparalleled experience, and were each adorned with their own lilac petal.

As he looked at the gentleman behind the pies, a wrinkle of curiosity took shape between the judge's earrings.

– You were second place last year, right?

– For the last 40 years, yes. In fact, where might the winner be today?

– At home. He said he was having a depressive episode.

– Sucks for him, I suppose...

The judge went back to his phone, making some plans for later, though the gentleman was very willing to continue talking. There was a long stretch of silence. Upon realizing that he was being stared at directly, and fearing appearing unprofessional in front of an elder in the art of pie baking, he took the liberty of pointing to the pile of salt that now extended from his fallen companion to his feet and asking:

– Want some?

The answer came in the form of a restrained shaking of his head from side to side, drawing a “no”, with a short explanation:

– Blood pressure.

The one with the earrings gave him an understanding thumbs-up. Following that, they were willing to wait quietly for all the judges to be ready. The one in galoshes, was already the first to speak as she arrived on the scene:

– Sorry for being late! Very much so – The man in sandals even took the opportunity to raise his hands as if he were a police target. – But what do you have to show here? I see several pies already.

– They're bomb pies. – The gentleman announced with a smile.

– Didn't we ban explosives about 20 years ago, 22 or something like that? – The one with earrings asked, as he could have sworn there was some significant reason behind that decision.

– Technically, explosives are allowed, the problem would be recognition in the news as a terrorist attack. – The competitor said, raising from his table a printed copy of an excerpt from the Commission's official book of rules referring to the subject. He soon rolled up the paper again and continued with his presentation. – But no, these are not explosives. It's just that a friend invited me to see him take part in a contest for something called a chocolate bomb, which, as I found out only upon arrival, is supposed to be some sweet treat. And, in the spirit of trying to bring something new here to our own competition, I couldn’t stop thinking about that.

– So, these are supposed to be some of those “bombs”? – The one with sandals said, shaking one of his feet to see if readjust one of them, as it was about to slip out.

– No, they're pies. But I prepared them as if they were chocolate bombs. Just help yourselves to one, you’ll understand things a little better!

The judges had already tasted smaller pies in their lives, but for some reason, in spite of them being much tinier than a normal pie, these so-called “bomb pies” seemed to be the right size for what they were. Before they even thought having these in their mouths, they absorbed everything they could of the strange delicacy. Pros at work; quite a sight! Following the Commission's instructions, their evaluation method for UPOs was synchronized down to the centimeters and milliseconds. They threw the candy up in the air once, assessing its weight, and then smelled the entire surface in a zigzag pattern. From the woman in galoshes, a crucial question arose:

– Do we eat the petal?

– No, I think you’d get diarrhea...

– Right.

It seemed perfectly appropriate, but the judges remained nervous. They looked at each other in communion: they were to face this together, with determination! They placed a small fraction of the pies between their teeth and, closing their eyes, took a bite. Having survived, they looked at each other, with the pastry in their mouths, and ran their tongues over all the different phases of the sampled piece. They let the saliva dissolve the dough a little, turning it into more and more of a sweet paste, until they finally swallowed it whole. They used the moment of bringing napkins to their lips as a well-deserved rest, in an attempt to compile their opinions. The one in sandals felt the need to start a sentence, if only to force his brain to finish it once he had already put himself in that position:

– Wow, it's really good! It's... it's as if...

That wasn't enough. It was indescribable.

– It's like a pie, except–

– Well, it's a pie, isn't it? – The gentleman insisted.

– Is it really though? – The one with the earrings was legitimately asking. – Do you have the excerpt that talks about what is considered a pie?

– No, unfortunately.

– And you had the one on explosives!?

The baker looked away to the left, hiding a slight chuckle in his beard:

– I like that part, it's humorous.

The judges looked at the gentleman with a very intense stare of estrangement. They didn't understand if it was because he was already half blind, or if he simply no longer cared, but he didn't even react to the faces of his evaluators. He took a long sigh and just began to ruminate:

– You know, I've been participating since the 1973 edition. It's been exactly 50 years since I started, yet I’ve never won once! About time, no?

The man in sandals, upon hearing this, bent his arm to scratch his back as he thought of some vaguely appropriate response.

– Yeah, yeah. I'll have to think more about this, because it ended up being quite… conceptual.

The gentleman watched the judges uncomfortably walk away, along with his dreams, bearing an unflinching half-smile.

– Thank you very much for your time.

Jotting down the rest of their thoughts, the judges huddled together in front of the tent to submit their scores to the registration system, which would determine the winner in time for the award ceremony. After pressing the confirm button, the one with the earrings turned back to the pastry chef's table for a query:

– Question, if a guy said he saw God and that He looked like you, what would be an appropriate reaction?

– Oh, I think it was a strange attempt at flirting. – The judge responded, having held this notion back all this time in the face of what, for her, was obvious. But the competitor soon added:

– No, no, God looks like you. I can attest to that.

– Cool.

She violently bit her lip in an attempt to alleviate the fact that her guess was wrong.

– By the way, I want to tell you something. – The gentleman added.

– Tell who something?

– The one with galoshes and sandals.

The two judges who fit this description pointed to themselves, confused as to which one the contestant wanted to talk to, until they remembered they were the same person, and simply wearing a pair of sandals outside their red galoshes.

– Oh, what?

– I liked your drawings of horses... I glanced at some of them and… I thought they were neat.

– Oh thanks! But they are mares...

– What?

– They're mares.

– Right, right...

– Well, sometimes they are horses too, but they are mainly mares.

– Right.

She began to wonder if the man had made any expression other than that half-smile, until he commented:

– I have a horse on my farm.

She no longer knew what to answer, and merely walked away alongside her co-worker. She whispered to him:

– I don't like him much.

– Weird guy, right?

She was surprised when he said that he needed to solve something with the baker who had killed Smith, but the reaction soon evaporated when she saw the two of them going together behind one of the tents. “Right, it IS June…” She took this opportunity to send drawings of mares to her therapist, as requested. They were both excited about this kind of thing.

After a while, she whistled to announce her presence and yelled to her colleague, telling him to come back for the awards ceremony. As soon as she did so, the official speaker for the event did the same for the entire 7-now-6-person audience. One by one, they all accommodated themselves in the plastic chairs facing the stage.

– We have an official speaker? – The one with the earrings wanted to know.

– She arrived about 3 minutes ago.

The lights came on. The Commission speaker, still catching up on her breathing, began her speech:

– Welcome to the 2023 Annual Pie Baking Contest Awards Ceremony. Firstly, as the official speaker for this 2023 edition of the Pie Baking Contest, it is with a heavy heart that I announce the passing of one of our event judges, Please, everyone, a moment of silence for this late professional pie appraiser.

The presentation quickly went through the slides already prepared for mourning the other two judges before arriving at photos of the deceased. Due to a lack of options, they resorted to photos of him pouting and in other intriguing positions that the Commission managed to extract from his private conversations with his wife. The entire audience stood in silence, out of respect for this great loss to the global pie baking community.

– I don't imagine we would have to describe his influence on how we understand pies in their true artistic potential to all of you right now. So we won't. But we plan to honor him another way. Over time, we received several complaints from participating women that his behavior carried inappropriate tendencies. The Commission would like to take this opportunity to reiterate that it is always engaged in building a pie baking space that is welcoming to all genders. That said, we have decided to honor the memory of the recently deceased judge through a symbolic 3-point discount on the grades of all female participants of this event.

A hand went up in the audience. It was from the one who made the pie that could be killed, asking a question with her attention divided between it and a guide on the internet called “How to make your pies goated and banana pilled in 5 simple steps”:

– I have a non-binary friend who sometimes participates, how would that go for them?

– He wouldn't know what that means, so he would probably discriminate against it, right? They can lose 3 points too, sure. – The speaker said, not understanding what it was about the art of making pies that seemed to attract so many of these LGBTs. It was beginning to annoy her. She thought about asking her girlfriend later at home. – Without further ado, I present to you the winner of our contest, please come on stage...

In the screen projected for the audience, the slide was about to change, but not before doing a pirouette that left it shredded into a thousand pieces scattered about like confetti while the animation of a window being opened marked the transition to the next slide. Empty, of course. It was first filled with color and three-dimensional models rotating festively until the text appeared, letter by letter: T – H – E – W – I – N – N – I – N – G – P – I – E

– My God, I made a pie, it could be mine! – Shouted the man with the lemon pie.

I – S

– Everyone made a pie, shut up! – Replied the baker whose pie could be killed.

T – H

– I'll peel your skin off! – No one understood exactly who said that.

E – P – I – E – N – A – M – E – D – :

Sound effects of drums beating accompanied by images of kittens swinging drumsticks.

– Vee's Savory Strawberry Pie! Our first female winner!

Victoria had to be asked to stand up, because her legs, by themselves, were firmly numb. Was it really her? They did get her name wrong. More than out of happiness, she wanted to cry because she had no idea what was happening.

The audience, made up only of the rest of the competitors, applauded with composure and dignity.

– And now, you have the right to a wish granted by the Commission! That would be…?

– I want to go to Disney Land! Can I go to Disney Land?

– Unfortunately, the Commission has not approved funding for flights since 2001.

– Can you guys kill my cousin, then?

– Is there a specific reason for this?

– I don’t really know.

– Okay. Well, I hope to see you all at our next pie year.

Unfortunately, the Commission's operations would only continue until March 2024, at which time an international scandal involving one of its largest donors would trigger an investigation that would reveal criminal activity tied to the Global Pie Society as well as its connections to several coup attempts in various Latin American states.

#writing #creative writing #english version #original fiction #original work #original writing #short story #will probably post this somewhere else but here it is for now #i made this one

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egpenrose · 1 year ago

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Hardest exercise yet

I am going through the writing exercises in Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin. This exercise was about NOT using adjectives or adverbs because if you can get the same description with fewer words that's better (Really Le Guin explains the reasoning for these exercises so well, go read the book).

I chose to edit a 500 word passage to remove adjectives and adverbs AND THIS WAS HARD. I know I didn't 100% succeed, but I definitely spent a lot of time thinking about alternative wordings so I think I got the benefit of the exercise (also sorry this post is a book in itself)

ORIGINAL

The cacophony of clinks, clangs, and chatter soothes the rough edges off of Alexander's existential crisis. A whole real world exists outside of the network. The cafeteria is set up like a buffet, hand-lettered signs directing patrons. Bright silver chaffers are set up on crisp white linen with little flames underneath keeping the food warm. Each dish is accompanied by a folded-tent notecard with hand written ingredients. A mix of professional and country charm.

He sets his very full tray down at an empty table, but that doesn't last long. He's an oddity and these people have no sense of privacy.

"Got an appetite, do ya, young man?" asks an older masc-individual with hair like wispy white clouds floating unkempt around a wrinkled face. They are wearing a dark blue button down that looks like what they might've worn everyday during their working years. Alexander supposes he is young in comparison.

"I wanted to try everything," he explains. Two lasagna choices, four vegetable sides, and garlic bread quickly overwhelmed a plate even when taking small portions.

"I never liked broccoli," they comment, seemingly just for want of something to say. "but the girl Philipa's got cooking does an alright job of it."

Alexander nods, mouth full, waiting until he could add, "Yeah everything is good. I never thought I would like turnips." He stabs a baked white wedge onto his fork.

"You all have turnips in Huriya? I always thought you lot ate paste out of squeezies."

Alexander has heard this one before. "Haha, no. I think most people in the southern provinces do eat more pre-packaged food, but there's still sit-down restaurants like this." He gestures around them to indicate the hotel's cafeteria, though he meant more like ordering from a menu. "And the pre-packaged food is still normal food. Like I've gotten heat and eat lasagna before."

"Huh," they don't seem particularly pleased to learn that the stereotype isn't true. "But this is better, right?" they insist. "This is real food."

"It's different," Alexander hedges.

The older local is right, the food is more 'real' if real means less processing and fewer additives. He wants to like it more than he does. He doesn't not like it. But there are so many strong unusual flavors that come across as dirt, grass, blood, or medicine to Alexander's palette. Stringy plant bits are hard to chew through, and grisly fatty meat gobs feel gross and seem to upset his stomach. Surely, he'll adjust.

"Everything is scaled up," Alexander continues, "So companies tend to only keep the most popular items." RIP Mx. Coffee Mix, original flavor. "Like I've never seen nettles or dandelion greens before."

The stranger seems pleased with this praise, though Alexander is essentially saying the food is more varied here because people continue using less savory ingredients.

"NO" ADJECTIVES/ADVERBS VERSION

The cacophony of clinks, clangs, and chatter cracks the shell of Alexander's existential crisis. Existance persists outside of the network. The cafeteria is set up like a buffet; Someone handpainted directions on planks to help patrons navigate down the line of chaffers. Handwriting on notecards, which have been folded into tents, list out ingredients.

Alexander finds a table to himself and sets his tray down causing the plates of food to clatter. Alexander has gotten in one bite before he's joined. These people have no sense of privacy.

"Got an appetite, do ya, young man?" asks the pensioner with wisps like clouds floating around a face of wrinkles. They are wearing a button down that looks like what they might've worn everyday during their working years. Alexander supposes he is young in comparison.

"I wanted to try everything," he explains. The buffet offered lasagna with and without meat, turnips, broccoli, asparagus, beets, and garlic bread. Taking everything, even in moderation, has overwhelmed Alexander's plate.

"I never liked broccoli," they comment, poking the broccoli on their plate with a fork. "but the girl Philipa's got cooking manages."

Alexander nods, chewing, waiting until he could add, "Yeah everything is good. I never thought I would like turnips." He stabs another wedge onto his fork.

"You all have turnips in Huriya? I always thought you lot ate paste out of squeezies."

Alexander has heard this one before. "Haha, no. I think most people do eat more grab-n-gos, but we also have restaurants like this." He gestures around them to indicate the hotel's cafeteria, though he meant more like ordering from a menu. "And they pack normal food in the grab-n-gos. Like I've gotten heat and eat lasagna before."

"Huh." They chafe at the idea that the stereotype isn't true. "But this is better, right?" they insist. "This is real food."

"It's different," Alexander hedges.

The local is right, if 'real' means no additives and no processing in a factory.

Alexander wants to like it; he doesn't not like it. He likes the sauce and noodles, but there's also flavors that come across as dirt, grass, blood, or medicine to Alexander's palette. Fibers from one of the vegetables accumulate in his mouth as they refuse to be chewed, and the gristle and fat from the meat upset his stomach. Everyone else seems to enjoy the food; Alexander will adjust.

"Everything is scaled up," Alexander continues, "So companies tend to discontinue lemons. You know: flops, duds." RIP Mx. Coffee Mix, original flavor. "Like I've never seen nettles or dandelion greens before."

The stranger nods at this praise, though Alexander's opinion boils down to Noegrad chooses to suffer for the sake of variety.

#long post #steering the craft #writing #writting prompt #writing exercise #frogverse #authors #writing community #writing challenge

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coconutshvings · 3 years ago

Text

ATZ Scenario: Christmas and your traditions together

🎄 Group: Ateez

🎄 Genre: Fluff

🎁 Warnings: Annoying green and red texts parts, sorry ❤️

🌟 Description: Where the G/N reader is now in Christmas setting with said Ateez member enjoying their once meaningless holiday activities that became a tradition for both now that they could share and make it their own together.

Because jingle bells falalalala

🎄Hongjoong 🎄

Putting the tree topper up together

The both of you loved putting up the tree together

Usually he worked on one thing and you on the other

For Ex: you you hang the ornaments and he strings the popcorn

It’s always a team effort for separate jobs so the both of you get done faster and can take in the masterpiece of a tree you two brought together before heading off to bed.

However you both always wanted to add the finishing touch , the big finish that ties the whole tree together because that makes or breaks the tree

The final decoration. The tree topper that went at the very top of the tree. Whether and angel or star or a porcelain ornament one of you wanted to do this honors

You two often playfully bickered about who did more work on the tree thus proving who should put the topper on.

“It took forever to string this popcorn around the tree”

“Yeah but who’s been making sure these ornaments are hung perfectly ? Me”

You even tried to settle it over Rock Paper Scissors and you won much to your delight and Hongjoong’s because even if he wanted to put the big finish on the tree, you were the big finish already for him

Spending this special holiday with you tied it together for him but you didn’t want to leave him out so you both got on either side of the ladder taking the decorations in one of each of your hands on both sides and gently setting it on the very top of the tree

Just perfect

🎄Seonghwa 🎄

Baking Christmas goodies together

Yum yum yum Christmas treats

The smell of different ingredients mixing for a sweet and savory scent making your stomach rumble

The sight of your boyfriend focused on the instructions written on the back of the box

You really did love this time of year and so did he because on this day it was non stop baking.

Christmas cookies with sprinkles or red and green even white

Butter cookies

Sugar cookies , brownies, funnel cakes and tarts they were all there for your delight in the end even if it all took a few tries

You and Hwa taste tested the baked goods together talking about your excitement for the up and coming holiday

Kissing each other’s frosted faces and all while trying to clean as you went it was so much fun and just a light moment

You both experimented with different combinations of desserts to make the ultimate Christmas treat

Hyped on sugar and the energy radiating off of each other there was nothing that could be better.

The warmth of the oven and Seonghwa’s arms around you as you baked away the day was overwhelmingly lovely and you literally wished it wouldn’t end

🎄Yunho🎄

Ice skating together

You both were terrible

But that is what made it fun

The both of you trying to keep the other one up and laughs that made the cold air hardly noticeable

You always commenting on how Yunho’s nose was giving Rudolph’s a run for his money

It was all so much fun and one of you would eventually get the hang of but until then you both looked like a baby dear straightening it’s legs for the first time

“ Try to keep up Y/N” he taunted staying low to the ice so if he fell it wouldn’t be a long way down

“Keep up ? You’re squatting on ice”

You guys didn’t care how you looked to everyone else you guys weren’t intending on being pro’s

You just enjoyed this fun and chaotic activity together during this time of year

You both know you would never think to endure or try this on your own but together you both were willing to try pretty much anything

You’d both get better each year, hopefully

🎄 Yeosang 🎄

Making gingerbread houses together

It’s a battle at first to see who can make the ultimate gingerbread home

“Do we even have enough gram crackers and gingerbread to make this a three story house?”

“ We have to we have a big gingerbread family to house here”

Little skittles and gumdrops everywhere along with Reese’s cups and other candy were all over the table

You guys exchanged conversation reminiscing and making plans for the future together

Things that could be stressful in a normal setting to talk about was just enjoyable conversation in this moment with Yeosang

You both tossed candy at each other plopping pieces in your mouths and sometimes each other’s

You guys got so happy seeing how your gingerbread houses were coming along

Though you both tried to sabotage each other’s yummy Homes made of sweets it was all in good fun

Just enjoying each other’s company and this activity you shared every year now

This alone is what made it Christmas time for you both, not trees or presents but gingerbread

But then again Yeosang was all you needed to make the holiday bright and you for him

🎄San🎄

ugly Christmas sweaters together

“ooh this one lights up” San grinned looking at the sweater displayed in the store window

“ it looks itchy though”

You guys looked in different places for matching sweaters but not just any sweaters , Christmas sweaters, ugly ones

Now what was Ironic was the the fact that despite you both purposely looking for hideous sweaters to wear both of you thought the other couldn’t look hideous if they tried

No matter what you wore

You guys made it a fashion show trying on different sweaters and exaggeratedly strutting In front of each other looking like crazy people

You guys gave no attention to judging on lookers if they were comfortable making a fool of themselves with someone they loved they’d be just like you but oh well

You guys decided on some sweaters that had fringes on the shoulders and lit up with a funny Christmas pun

You couldn’t decide who’s was worse because you actually thought that San looked good and he thought the same of you

Had you two failed at ugly Christmas sweaters ? Certainly not

You both just made everything look good and couldn’t help it

It was the effort that counted anyway along with the fun you had in each other’s company

🎄Mingi🎄

Watching Christmas movies together

Such a simple thing right?

It was but it was just a bit more special with Mingi

Having someone to share you’re favorite Christmas classics with

Introducing one another to movies that you might not had seen or heard of or discovering new ones together

“Ever seen ‘Grandma got run over by a reindeer’ ?” Mingi shook his head but you loved how he was immediately willing to watch

The movies were great but you’d often drift to the moment itself just the two of you with the warmth of each other and a movie to fit the season

It was just so comforting and you hadn’t had any moments like this with anyone to your knowledge in fact neither of you had

It mad it all the more special and gave more reason to make this a tradition for every year to come

It really meant that the two of you would have more of these moments together

How you could not look forward to that?

More holidays or days at all with Mingi would be a thought to lift your spirits in any moment

🎄Wooyoung🎄

Being each other’s Secret Santa together

You guys both knew you’d be each other’s secret Santa

Duh it was only the two of you participating because you wanted a tradition together

You’d do most of your Christmas shopping together but would split for about thirty minutes in different parts of wherever you were shopping for gifts so that you both could find a secret Santa gift for the other

You guys wanted to be more meaningful than expensive with gifts or at least you did , wooyoung was very indecisive on what to get you as he thought you’d love everything he looked at

Truthfully you’d be fine with just a nice mug if that’s what he decided to gift you because all year round Wooyoung was giving to you

It was just that he was willing to even do this with you that made everything else not matter so much

“ On a scale of one to ten how much do you think you’re going to love the gift I picked out for you?”

“There is no scale because I know I’ll absolutely love it “

Wooyoung always loved the holidays but that went up 20x because of you he loved that you appreciated whatever it was he got you no matter how little it cost

It was never about gifts with you just the fact that he considered you and vise versa

You’d already gotten the ultimate gift earlier than Christmas could bring , You got an amazing boyfriend

🎄Jongho🎄

Taking Christmas photos together

New year, new picture for Christmas

You guys thought it’d be fun to just take a picture together with Santa one time

But then the idea grew because you liked how joyful you two looked and so Jongho suggested that you do it again in the next year to come on Christmas

From that moment forward it was set that you two would take a Christmas photo together

It represented spending the whole year together and would be a memory of how many you shared as they passed

You guys did photo shoots to make a booklet and even had mini prints for picture ornaments to hang up on your tree

Truly the cutest thing ever

You guys wore matching elf sweaters once and that became yours and his favorite photo so you kept it in a pretty frame that sat in the living room area for both of your homes

Jongho even got you a globe with a picture you two took on Christmas and of made you smile from ear to ear

A picture for every Christmas you spent together wasn’t such a bad idea because the memories lasted into the next year and so on

And what could be better than that ?

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟The End 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I wanted to write at least one holiday scenario for a group so I hope this one was enjoyable it came to me overnight I couldn’t decide on different holidays or just one but I went with Christmas - Le🦋

This is like super late but I had to work on the holidays x tiredness 💁🏾‍♀️ I’m sorry y’all

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nightlychaotic · 3 years ago

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Protection and Energy

Thank you @the-witches-you-couldnt-burn for the ideas!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The soft click clack of Marinette’s heels was the only sound as she walked down the hall towards the parking garage, moving at a decent clip as she glanced at her watch. 1:30 am. How the hell had it gotten to be so late? She knew she’d be fine inside but she still wanted to get into her car and home as fast as she could.

“Excuse me?”

She jumped, moving on instinct, pinning the poor soul who had snuck up behind her to the wall, forearm braced against his throat.

He put his hands up in a “I surrender” position as she let go, covering her mouth softly.

“I am so sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. It’s late and I’m usually home by now. The time just got away from me- I really am.”

He just shook his head with a grin. “You’re Tim’s new secretary aren’t you?”

“And Mr. Wayne’s as well. Tabby just quit. Which is one reason why I am here so late.”

“Well, may I walk you back to your car? For protection of course.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I can protect myself.”

“I can and it’s not a bother. It’s my job.”

“Well if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“I’m Marinette.”

“Dick Grayson.”

She smiled as he opened the door for her

��--------------------------------------

Marinette closed the car door, making sure it was locked, before heading in. She was early for once, as she was hoping to, wandering down to find the security offices, heading in with a smile, holding herself with confidence as she looked around the small desks, trying to remember which one she’d been told was Dick Grayson’s.

She grinned as she finally found the small desk belonging to Dick in the security section, she set the container of baked goods down, scribbling a short note and sticking it on top.

She left for the upper levels with a smile, having successfully dropped off her small thank you gift.

–

Dick was surprised to find the tupperware container on his desk, peeling the sticky note off of the top of it he grinned as he read it.

For energy

Thank you for walking me to my car last week.

~Marinette

Opening it to reveal muffins, scones, and cookies

—--------------------------------------

This became the new routine for the two of them.

Dick would walk Marinette to her car whenever it got late. The idea of it being late slowly becoming earlier and earlier before disappearing all together. He would walk Marinette to her car, always claiming it to be “for protection” with a grin as they talked. He started to suspect Marinette started parking further away to prolong their short nighttime jaunts.

Marinette would bring in tupperwares full of baked goods twice a week “for energy.” A savory one on Mondays full of muffins and scones and a sweet one on Wednesday with cupcakes and cookies, mixing fruits and sweets in on occasion, slowly learning what Dick preferred through trial and error, making sure to keep those in and expand off the newfound knowledge.

The two were slowly getting closer and becoming the couple everyone rooted for. Before they even were a couple.

The two found themselves dragged or brought into rooms by coworkers and friends to be abandoned under a clumsy excuse like a “forgotten pen” or “watering my desk. Plant. I forgot to water my desk plant. Which I have.” That was the most infamous excuse they’d been given.

It was after the twenty-second occurrence Marinette decided to address it with Dick.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for them to realize they aren’t being subtle?” Marinette asked, pouring two cups of coffee, with a soft smile.

He laughed, happily accepting one from her. “I don’t know. I think they really are trying. They just…. not great at it.”

She nodded, raising her mug in a salute. “I’ll drink to that.”

Dick clinked his mug with hers, the two smiling at each other before taking a drink and heading back to their respective work spaces.

—--------------------------------------

Dick had finally gathered the courage to swing by Marinette’s desk with the aim to ask if she’d like to go out at some point. After a few months of flirting, he was hoping to take the next step.

Unfortunately, or actually, fortunately he had the worst timing imaginable getting to her desk only a minute before two armed men burst into the room, immediately training their guns on the security guard. Dick.

Dick tried to push Marinette behind him only for her to duck underneath his arm to stand in front of the short hallway leading to the CEO offices.

"I'm sorry. You can't see the CEOs without an appointment," she informed them with a smile, not even blinking as one of them pointed their gun at her. His partner keeping their gun trained on Dick.

"Out of the way. I'd hate ta shoot a pretty lady."

Her smile grew serious as he said that. "Have it your way."

She grabbed his wrist, twisting the gun out of his hand, quickly turning the safety on and slid it down the hall behind her. She kept her grip on him, swinging him into his partner knocking both of them down, following up by disarming the partner and knocking the two out.

Dick blinked as she turned to face him, straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair out.

"You got it from here?"

“Marry me.”

“I’d love to. I’ve always dreamt of a Spring wedding. Small, just family and close friends. What do you think?”

He had not been expecting that response. “That sounds beautiful. This Spring or next?”

“This Spring as in next week?”

“So next year?”

“Two weeks? My parents and family can be here in that time.”

“Two weeks is perfect. Is Wayne Manor a good place? We have some beautiful grounds out back, and the gardens are starting to bloom.”

She smiled. “You’ll need to show me the grounds first don’t you think?”

“A good idea. And you need to meet Alfred. And rings.”

“Saturday? And Sunday if we run out of time to sort all of that out?”

“I can be free.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t wait. Now I do believe there are a couple of thugs for my fiance to clean up.”

“That my stunning fiance handled as if it was nothing.”

She blushed slightly making a shooing motion at him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight my love.”

—--------------------------------------

“How’s your desk plant that you definitely have doing, Andy?” Marinette asked as she ran into her coworker in the break room.

“Not my finest excuse I’ll admit but I think the bigger question is how are you doing? You’ve been gone for a month. So has a certain Dick Grayson…. Anything you want to share? A relationship update, perhaps?”

Marinette smiled softly as she looked at him. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’re married,” she said before turning to walk away, biting back a small laugh as she heard Andy sputter behind her before hurrying to catch up to her.

“What was that?”

“We’re married. Just got back from our honeymoon in Paris. I showed him around where I grew up-”

“Introduced me to Andre’s ice cream.”

Marinette let out a small squeal of surprise as Dick hugged her from behind, twisting to wrap her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.

“Good Morning, My Love.”

“Good Morning, Mrs Grayson.”

#maribat #dickinette #mgicivilwar2022 #no beta this is war #MGI CIvil War 2022 #dick justice #nightwing nerds #office romance #fluff

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baepsaesbae · 4 years ago

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Spring Will Come Again

Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook

Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it

Word Count— ~10.9k

Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?

A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~

It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason.

The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music.

You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight.

You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery?

As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town.

You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.

You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same.

Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you.

“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.

“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.

Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire.

“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.

You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist.

“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.

“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.

“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.

The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.

One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them.

It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you.

As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay.

“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.

“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”

And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery.

Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little.

“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.

“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.

“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.

“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.

“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.

“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.

“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react.

“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created.

“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.

“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out.

The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter.

“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.

Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in.

However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.

The man jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.

It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier.

“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.

“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”

“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in.

“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.

“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”

“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.

“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.

“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.

“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.

You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.

“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.

“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.

“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.

“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.

“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.

“Kind of,” he whispered back.

“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.

“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.

“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”

“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.

“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.

“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.

“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.

“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”

“____. Yours?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.

“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”

“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.

“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.

“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.

“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained.

“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.

“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.

You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe.

Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.

“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.

“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.

“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.

“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.

“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.

“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom.

“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.

Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.

“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.

“Sweet,” he beamed.

You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out.

Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something.

“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer.

“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.

“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.

“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.

“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.

“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.

“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.

“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.

Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another.

“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.

Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it.

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.

“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”

“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.

“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.

“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”

“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned.

“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket.

You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.

“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.

“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.

It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change.

“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.

“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded.

“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.

An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.

“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.

“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.

“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.

“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.

“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.

“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted.

“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.

“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered.

“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.

“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.

“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck.

“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.

“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.

“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him.

“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.

“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm.

“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.

The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world.

“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.

“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.

“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.

“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks.

“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.

“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.

At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person.

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.

“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.

“Act natural!”

“How do I do that?”

“Naturally!”

His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.

“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.

“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.

His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him.

“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.

“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.

You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts.

“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.

“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.

“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.

“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth.

“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.

Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.

“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more.

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief.

You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.

“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger.

Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.

Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook.

“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.

Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.

He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.

“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.

“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat.

“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.

“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.

“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up.

“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered.

“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.

You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking.

The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic.

“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.

“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”

“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.

All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.

“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.

“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped.

You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night.

Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.

“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.

“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.

The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.

“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.

“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.

“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”

“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.

“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.

Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you.

“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly.

“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it.

Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.

He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well.

“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.

You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours.

Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.

He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.

“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.

“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.

“Too much?” he tilted his head.

“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh.

All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night.

Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods.

After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”

You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall.

One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.

“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.

Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.

“What?” you cocked your head.

He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”

You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.

Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.

After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.

“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.

“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.

It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing.

“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.

“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.

He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own.

Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.

“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.

“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.

Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.

“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.

“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed.

“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered.

He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him.

“Ready?” you asked.

Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.

From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.

You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened.

“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.

You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top.

“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.

Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.

“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.

Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you.

“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.

“Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.

With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with.

He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.

“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.

“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.

“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”

“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”

“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.

“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.

“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”

“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.

“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.

“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.

You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more.

Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products.

You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world.

Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook.

It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating.

These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him.

You watched snow fall outside when you got a call.

“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.

“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.

“Umm… Italy?”

“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.

“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.

“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.

Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that.

Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world?

You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.

“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.

You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

“Surprise,” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.

“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.

“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.

“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad.

Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him.

“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.

“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly.

“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.

Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.

Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end.

“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest.

“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief.

He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.

Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth.

“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully.

Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered.

His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.

“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.

“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed.

You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.

You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact. Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.

“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving.

“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders.

He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved.

He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.

“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.

“Please do,” you nodded.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings.

Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy.

“_____,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed.

“Come with me.”

“What?” your eyes shot open.

“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead.

His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him.

“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest.

“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”

“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.

“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.

“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back.

“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.

“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.

“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.

“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted.

“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.

Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.

“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.

“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him.

You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape.

He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”

“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.

It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life.

Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known.

Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared.

You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.

“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.

“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.

‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile.

“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.

“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock.

“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”

You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…

“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.

“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.

“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.

“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.

“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”

You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery.

“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head.

“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.

“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.

“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly.

“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”

You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.

“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”

“But what about my parents--”

“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.

“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.

“You knew?” you were bewildered.

“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.

“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said.

“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.

“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.

Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear.

“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.

“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened.

“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store.

Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.

He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come.

As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world.

#bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #bangtanarmynet #btscreatorscorner #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #jeon jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jeon jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook fic #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader

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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years ago

Note

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

#henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #asks answered #captain syverson #captain sy x reader

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

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girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook.

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?�� Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.”

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs.

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together.

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was.

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.”

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

#quietmyfearswith #My writing #andy barber angst #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber x you #andy barber fluff #andy barber smut #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction

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mikauzoran · 3 years ago

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Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Nine

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Nine

Luka didn’t last long after brunch.

By the time the dishwasher was loaded and Luka had finished teasing Adrien, Luka’s headache was back in full force.

“I need to go lie down before I throw up,” Luka groaned, gingerly massaging his temple. “Or maybe I should throw up and then go lie down.”

“No vomiting,” Adrien chastised, taking Luka by the elbow and gently guiding him back towards Luka’s bedroom. “I don’t want that breakfast I lovingly made going to waste. You need to digest those nutrients.”

“I’ll do my best,” Luka chuckled weakly, consenting to be escorted just so he could indulge in the warmth of Adrien’s hand on his skin. “…Sorry about all this.”

Adrien clicked his tongue.

“Shh. No apologies. Go lie down and feel better,” he instructed as he deposited Luka onto his bed. “And call me if you need anything because I want to be helpful, okay?”

“Okay,” Luka reluctantly agreed, still feeling guilty.

“Promise?” Adrien stressed, not believing Luka for a minute. “I don’t want to come in here to check on you and find you dead. You call me if you need me.”

Luka let out a soft laugh, smiling dimly. “Okay. I promise. Thank you, Adrien.”

With a patented wink that did things to Luka’s heart, Adrien turned to go. “Feel better soon, Orpheus.”

Adrien and Plagg had four years’ worth of television to catch up on, so they settled down on the couch with a fresh-baked batch of gougère and spent the afternoon watching Netflix.

Adrien kept the volume relatively low so that he would hear if Luka stirred and needed him, but the apartment remained quiet, so Adrien assumed that Luka was either dead or sleeping.

“Quit fussing,” Plagg purred soothingly from his perch on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s a grown man. He’s survived this long without you, so he can obviously take care of himself to some extent.”

Adrien snorted as he scrolled through the myriad options filling the screen, searching for their next show to binge. “You didn’t see what a mess this place was when I moved in. It’s apparent that Luka’s been running on empty for a while. Maybe he can take care of himself, but maybe he shouldn’t have to. Maybe I can do it better, and maybe he should know that he doesn’t have to go it alone all the time.”

Adrien took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I worry about him.”

“You worry too much, Kitten,” Plagg chuckled, flying down to point at the screen. “That one. Trixx said it was good.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow. “Lupin? Like the book series?”

A knock at the door cut off Plagg’s reply.

Adrien set his brand-new laptop aside and made his way to the door as Plagg retreated to his hiding spot in Adrien’s left shoulder.

“I wonder if it’s Josie or Jacob come to check on Luka. …Though, they were pretty trashed last night too,” Adrien muttered as he put his eye to the peephole.

Sucking in a gasp, Adrien sprang back from the door, hissing, “It’s Marinette!” in a whisper.

“Plagg, what do I do?!”

Plagg floated back out into the room with a shrug. “Let her in? Don’t let her in? There aren’t a lot of options, so it shouldn’t be too complicated.”

“But it is,” Adrien insisted, running his hands aggressively through his hair in his panic. “The last time I saw her, I threw my ring at her and ran away after my father was just revealed to be the big bad we’d been fighting for almost a decade.”

“You threw the ring at her feet, not at her,” Plagg corrected calmly.

“And then I ran away and left her to deal with a huge mess,” Adrien groaned. “Not to mention I completely missed the fact that my father was evil. She either thinks I was in on it or that I’m a total moron.”

“Kid—” the kwami attempted to interject.

Adrien wasn’t listening as he clutched his head in his hands and sank to the floor.

“Plagg, what if she hates me?” he whispered, horrified at the prospect.

With a sigh, Plagg alighted on Adrien’s knee. “Kid, she’s agonizing over the exact same thing herself.”

Adrien blinked, regaining some composure as he focused on Plagg. “What?”

“Adrien, Marinette thinks she failed you,” Plagg gently explained. “I mostly stayed in the box while you were gone, but I’ve heard Tikki stressing about it. Marinette is all caught up on how she ruined your life and wasn’t a good enough friend to you and failed you as a partner when you needed her most. She thinks you hate her…but you don’t, do you?”

Adrien’s brow crumpled in confusion. “What? No. No, of course not. None of this is Marinette’s fault. She always did everything she could for me. I just…I didn’t let her help me after…”

Plagg nodded. “Do you think she’d put so much energy and time into worrying about you if she hated you?”

Adrien gulped as the puzzle pieces aligned in a way that didn’t quite make sense to him. “…No?”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Plagg affirmed.

A tentative knock came again at the door, making Adrien jump.

“Hello?” Marinette called from out in the hallway, her voice muffled. “I know you’re there. Please open the door.”

Slowly, Adrien got to his feet, mustering every ounce of courage he could manage.

He took a deep breath, held it, and unlocked the door.

“Thank you,” Marinette sighed in relief. “I’m sorry for coming over here, but I—”

She abruptly cut herself off with a gasp when the door opened to reveal Adrien instead of Luka.

Her eyes went as wide as mooncakes as she slapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief.

Adrien pushed down his fear of rejection and smiled, opening his arms in invitation. “Hi, Buguinette. I’ve really missed you.”

“Chaton,” she choked, slamming into him like a billboard and nearly crushing him with the force of her hug. “Adrien.”

“Marinette, I’m so sorry for leaving the way I did…for not being able to handle any of it. I’m sorry for staying away so long. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but—”

“—Shut up, you stupid cat,” she blubbered into his shirt. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry after everything I’ve done.”

She pulled back slightly to face him. “Adrien, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t—”

“—Shh,” he sniffled as tears of mingled relief and joy streamed down his cheeks. “Marinette, I didn’t let anyone be there for me. I pushed everyone away so that I didn’t pull them down with me. There is absolutely nothing I blame you for.”

She blinked at him, stunned, as he smiled down at her beatifically, offering absolution.

“But…if I had just been better,” she protested. “I could have—”

“—Shut up, you dumb bug,” he whispered, pulling her back into a hug and resting his head against hers. “I’m not mad at you, and I don’t think anything is your fault. It’s all in your head, My Lady. You were always the best at beating yourself up.”

She settled into his arms, tightening her own hold on him as well. “So…we’re okay?”

“So long as you’re not mad at me,” he agreed.

“I could never be mad at you, Idiot,” she pouted into his chest.

“You’ve been mad at me before,” he chuckled, beginning to sink into the familiarity of their old partnership.

“Not for real. Not for long,” she snorted.

They stood there for a long stretch, regaining their equilibrium and absorbing the reality of everything being okay.

Eventually, they pulled apart and took a good look at one another.

“…Are you okay?” Marinette inquired cautiously as she noted how thin he seemed and the subtly-off pallor of his skin.

Adrien grimaced, averting his gaze. “Not yet, but I think I’m finally headed in the right direction. …I don’t really want to talk about it, but the past four years have been rough, so…it’s going to be a bit before I’m ‘okay’ again.”

Marinette nodded, reaching out to rest a supportive hand on his bicep. “Is there anything I can do?”

She gave his arm a squeeze.

A sheepish smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and he shot her a coy look. “Be my friend again?”

With a roll of her eyes, she lightly swatted at him. “Adrien, I never stopped thinking of you as a friend.”

Fresh tears began to well up in his eyes. “R-Really?”

With a bashful smile, she met his gaze and nodded. “Even when I was afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. …So, what else can I do for you?”

“Give him head pats and tell him he’s a good boy,” Plagg suggested from where he’d made himself comfy among the savory cheese pastries on the plate on the couch. “It makes him really happy when you tell him he’s a good cook.”

“Plagg,” Adrien groaned, giving his kwami an eyeroll. “No one is going to eat those now that you’ve rolled in them.”

“That was the plan,” Plagg snickered.

“I see that I needn’t have worried about you, Plagg.” Marinette gave a half-amused snort. “Luka came to get you for Adrien. It all makes sense now.”

“It was sweet of you to worry,” Plagg chuckled, holding up one of the cheese puffs. “Want a gougère? He made them himself, and they’re delicious.”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow at Adrien. “You cook?”

Adrien blushed as his hand went to the back of his neck in his habitual gesture. “I mean…just a little.”

“He’s amazing,” Plagg bragged as if he himself were the one to be praised.

“What can you make?” Marinette pressed, giving Adrien a gentle nudge with her elbow.

“Anything,” Plagg cut Adrien off before he could downplay his talents. “You should get him to cook for you sometime.”

Adrien bit his lip and tentatively offered, “Would you like to eat with us? I made a whole bunch of soups this morning.”

Marinette’s mouth rounded into an “o” of surprise. “I would love to, but I’m not sure if I should impose like that.”

Adrien waved away her reservations. “It’s not a problem at all. Luka’s totally cool with me inviting friends over. Besides, I was just thinking about getting Luka up and making him eat something anyway, so you should join us. He’s kind of having one of his bad days because of The Breakup, so I’m sure he’d appreciate your company.”

Plagg winced. “Uh…Kid…”

Marinette looked utterly puzzled and opened her mouth to seek clarification, but the moment was interrupted as Luka’s bedroom door creaked open.

“Hey, Adrien, do we still have some of that…” Luka froze, putting out a hand to brace himself in the doorway as he registered Marinette’s presence. “…potato leek soup you made the other day,” he finished flatly, redirecting all of his mental energy to not panicking.

“Sure. I’ll heat some up for you, if you want,” Adrien replied enthusiastically, missing the tense, thick atmosphere between Luka and Marinette.

“I actually just invited Marinette to eat with us,” Adrien continued excitedly as he started towards the kitchen.

“Chaton, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Marinette sighed.

Adrien blinked and looked back and forth between Marinette and Luka. “Why not? Luka doesn’t mind, do you, Luka?”

Luka winced, wishing for an akuma attack to call Marinette and Adrien away so that Luka wouldn’t have to deal with this situation.

“You didn’t tell him,” Marinette gathered, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“I didn’t see the relevance,” Luka answered defensively. “I didn’t think it mattered, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between you two.”

“What’s going on?” Adrien tentatively broke in. “What didn’t Luka tell me?”

Luka shot Marinette a warning look, but the word came out as a plea: “Don’t.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, confessing, “I’m the ex-girlfriend.”

Luka slumped against the doorjamb, cringing.

“There’s no reason to keep it a secret from him,” Marinette insisted with a twinge of exasperation.

Logically, Luka knew this, but…

“Wait.” Adrien spoke up again, whipping his head back and forth to take them both in. “You two were…”

Adrien’s brain crashed as he thought back to all of the objects he’d sorted through when he’d cleaned up the apartment: the books, CDs, DVDs, notebooks, articles of clothing…

Adrien had known that Luka and Marinette had dated and broken up several times over the years, but…knowing that Marinette had been the cause of Luka’s suffering this time gave the whole situation a new aspect.

Luka had said that his ex was in love with someone else, and, now, Adrien wanted to shake Marinette and demand whom she was in love with and how she could let someone like Luka go for anyone else.

“Sorry.” Marinette’s voice broke into Adrien’s thoughts. “I’m sorry for coming. I just wanted to check on Plagg and return some things. I know you said you didn’t think you’d be ready to see me for a few weeks at least, but…I found some things I thought you’d like to have back before then, and I was concerned about Plagg.”

Marinette ducked out into the hall and grabbed the two bulging trash bags she’d left sitting beside the door. She then produced an apartment key and handed it to Adrien. “Sorry about all this.”

Adrien shook his head. “No. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

With a tired smile, she pulled him into a quick hug, assuring, “Don’t worry about it.”

She pulled back, taking his hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. “My phone number’s the same, and my trapdoor is always open for you, if you want to come over and hang out. My parents would be ecstatic to see you too, if you wanted to drop by. We’re still at the bakery.”

“I’d really like that,” Adrien admitted, getting choked up all over again at the thought that there was someplace where he’d be welcomed with wide-open arms. “Talk soon?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “As soon as you want.”

He squeezed her hands back as he leaned in to place air kisses to the sides of her cheeks. “See you, Buguinette.”

“See you, Chaton,” she replied, voice full of warmth.

Then, with a hopelessly forlorn wave to Luka, Marinette slipped out of the flat.

Biting his lip, Adrien turned to face Luka, and the apologies quickly began to tumble out.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Adrien stressed. “I never would have let her in if I had known.”

Luka blinked, startled at Adrien’s reaction. “You’re not mad at me?”

Adrien’s head quirked to the side. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Shaking his head, Luka crossed the living room to take a seat on the couch, careful of Adrien’s laptop. “I don’t know. I kept a secret from you just like everyone else you trusted who let you down?”

Adrien winced as he too sat on the couch. “Okay, but it wasn’t really any of my business, so…”

“You’re still really good at making excuses for people who don’t deserve it,” Luka sighed, tipping his head to rest against the back of the couch.

Adrien shrugged. “It’s a defence mechanism. It’s better than feeling bitter and betrayed all the time.”

Luka took a long, steady inhale. “We need to get you some therapy.”

“I’ll go if you go,” Adrien bartered.

Luka looked to the side at Adrien. “You want me to go to therapy?”

Adrien nodded. “For your drinking problem and self-worth issues and martyr syndrome.”

A slow smile spread across Luka’s lips. “…You are mad at me.”

Adrien shrugged again, trying to maintain apathy because it was easier than dealing with the complex mess of what he was actually feeling.

“No.”

He tried to hold onto the fiction that the whole incident was his fault, but it slipped through his grasp like a fish.

“Why didn’t you tell me Marinette was your ex?”

Luka forced himself to meet the wounded accusation flickering like flames in Adrien’s eyes.

“Because it hurt,” Luka answered as honestly as he could. “It’s still too painful to talk or even think about. …You know what that’s like, don’t you?”

Adrien flinched as his own hurt instantly vanished. He moved the laptop and the plate of pastries out of the way to scoot in close to Luka so Adrien could wrap his arms around him.

“Besides,” Luka whispered as Adrien pulled Luka into his chest. “I didn’t want to mess up your relationship with her. I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t be friends with her because she’s my ex and you’re afraid of ending up on the street again if you upset me or something. I know you had feelings for her in the past too, so…I didn’t want to make things complicated.”

“Oh, Luka,” Adrien sighed as he nuzzled Luka’s hair. “…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…I don’t know. Existing?” Adrien laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t be,” Luka stressed as he drew back and sat up. “You’re one of the good things about this universe.”

That assertion got a startled chuckle out of Adrien.

“…Please don’t feel like you can’t be friends with Marinette now.” Luka got them back on topic. “I really don’t want to mess things up between you two. You can have her over. It’s not a problem.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and gave his head a disbelieving shake. “Luka, it is so a problem. I’m not going to invite the woman you’re still a mess because of into your private space. You’ve been emphasizing to me how this is my home and how you want me to feel safe and comfortable here, but what about you?”

Luka’s brow creased infinitesimally. “Me?”

“This is your home too,” Adrien explained. “You should feel safe and comfortable here. Marinette and I will just hang out at her house or some other place.”

Luka pursed his lips, already beginning to feel uncomfortable at the prospect of Adrien and Marinette spending time alone together.

“Maybe…Maybe in a week or two you could start having her over,” Luka suggested.

Adrien arched a suspicious eyebrow.

“I have to get used to being around her again sometime. I do want to stay friends with her once I can stand to see her without feeling like there’s a gaping wound in my chest,” Luka explained.

Plus, Luka knew he’d feel better if he could keep tabs on Marinette and Adrien so that Luka would know when the dreaded event had occurred. He wanted to know as soon as it was certain that he had lost Adrien and Marinette to one another.

Adrien was skeptical about having Marinette over to the flat, but he didn’t argue. “Okay. If you think you’ll be okay, but I don’t want you pushing yourself, all right?”

Luka waved away Adrien’s concern. “Don’t worry, Adrien. I promise it’s fine. And…”

Luka took a deep breath.

“Listen. If you and Marinette decide you want to see each other romantically…”

Adrien stared at his roommate, trying to figure out what Luka actually meant because the words Adrien thought he was hearing made no sense.

Luka sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not saying it won’t hurt, but I’ll get over it because I want you two to be happy more than anything, so if you two decide that that’s what you want, you have my blessing.”

Adrien kept staring for nearly fifteen seconds before he demanded, “Why are you like this?”

Luka’s head slowly tipped to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why the hell do you think I’d be heartless enough to steal the woman you love from you?” Adrien huffed.

“Adrien, it’s not like that,” Luka tried to explain. “She loves you, and I know how much you loved her in the past, so if you two decide—”

Adrien clamped a hand over Luka’s mouth, physically stopping the flow of idiocy.

“Shut up,” he whispered, voice tinged with hurt. “I’ll have to consult Nino for the final verdict, but I’m pretty sure that’s against the bro code. Now, I’m going to try to repair my friendship with Marinette because she’s someone who’s very important to me, but I have no intention of pursuing anything romantic with her. At least not now or any time in the near future.”

Luka kept quiet, but he thought to himself that the heart didn’t always cooperate. He doubted that Adrien could stop himself from falling for Marinette again just like Luka hadn’t been able to keep his own feelings for Adrien in check.

“Maybe several years down the road something will happen, but that will only be if you’re completely over her and happy with someone else. I’m not a home-wrecker,” Adrien informed hotly, removing his hand from Luka’s mouth. “Okay?”

Luka smiled wanly. “Rarely do we get a choice when it comes to our feelings, especially when that feeling is love, but I appreciate your commitment to the bro code.”

Adrien gave his head a defiant toss. “I may not be able to control my feelings, but I can control my actions.”

Luka’s eyes widened.

“Besides,” Adrien continued, the heat coming out of his voice. “I’m not in any shape to be pursuing a romantic relationship at the moment. I’ve got a lot of healing to do before I think that would be a good idea.”

Slowly, Luka began to nod. “…You constantly amaze me with how mature and wise you’ve gotten.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue. “I needed an adult a lot of times over the past four years, so I became my own adult.”

Luka grimaced. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”

A genuine smile started to peek out onto Adrien’s lips.

He gave Luka’s hair a playful tussle, replying, “Right back at you. Now get up and let me feed you. It’s time to eat.”

Luka made a show of grumbling and groaning, but he allowed himself to be extracted from the couch and towed to the kitchen.

“What time is it even?”

“A little after three-thirty,” Adrien responded as he headed over to the fridge to get out the potato leek soup Luka had been asking about.

Luka moaned miserably, dropping his head to the countertop. “I have to go to family dinner tonight, and I’m dreading it.”

“Don’t go,” Adrien suggested as if it were that simple.

“Then Juleka will think I’ve been drinking,” Luka mumbled into the granite of the counter.

“You could tell her something came up and you had to stay home with me,” Adrien suggested.

Luka lifted his head. “…Isn’t the fact that you’re back in Paris a secret?”

Adrien shrugged, scooping out some of the soup into two bowls to microwave. “Now that Nino and Marinette know where I am, it kind of takes the pressure off. It’s okay if you tell your family. Say that I’m having a bad day and I need you to watch Disney movies and snuggle with me.”

Luka bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not very good at lying, and I don’t exactly like the idea of trying to deceive my family. I’d better just go and bite the bullet.”

“If you like, I could go with you,” Adrien offered as he placed the bowls into the microwave. “If you think your family would be okay with it, I mean. I could take some of the spotlight off you and distract them with how I was homeless until you rescued me. Maybe seeing what a mess I am will make you look better by comparison.”

Luka’s forehead crinkled up. “You don’t like talking about all that, though, and Rose and Maman will have lots of questions.”

Adrien shrugged again, putting on a brave smile. “It’s okay. It’s probably not going to be easy, but I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to,” Luka stressed.

“I want to,” Adrien countered with determination, and then his voice softened, filling with gratitude and tenderness. “You went and faced Marinette to get Plagg back for me. If you can do that, I can spend one night distracting your family so they maybe don’t notice how hungover you are.”

“Adrien,” Luka whispered, profoundly moved by Adrien’s willingness to face an uncomfortable situation for Luka’s sake.

Adrien cocked his head to the side. “Hm?”

Luka swallowed and shook his head. “Nothing. You’re just… You’re really amazing.”

Adrien beamed, shooting Luka a patented wink. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

Luka’s stomach flipped, and his heart fluttered.

Suddenly, he was sure that Adrien was going to be the death of him because there was no longer a doubt that Luka loved this astounding human being.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Plagg #MLB #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Fluff #Reunion #Honest Conversation #Friendship #Pining #Mutual Pining #Slow Burn #Friends to Lovers #Roommates #Mikau's Writings #Zebras Can't Change Their Stripes

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