#and i can only eat so much veggies in a dish before i get sick of it. the ratio needs to be exactly right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tomtenadia · 3 years ago

Text

Fire in her veins - a Island Dreams AU oneshot

So, yesterday Island Dream reached the amazing milestone of 5k hits on AO3. For me, it means the world especially because ID has a special place in my heart. It was my first long Rowaelin, set in a place that I adore. It’s more than just a story. It’s set in a part of Scotland that has completely stolen my heart.

So, to celebrate I asked for prompts and @whimsicallyreading gave me a brilliant one.

“Aelin accidentally distracts Rowan and their stove catches on fire 🥰 would be funny to see the ID crew interact with a Fire Department ��”

inspiration hit in an instant. This fic is set about three years after the epilogue. The twins are 7 and Dalamar is 4. The story has a very Freyja-centred ending, mostly because she is my favourite. She is wild and fierce like her mother and she is funny. (Don’t get me wrong I adore Morrigan and Dalamar too. They are calmer and adorable in their own way.)

If you are new to Island Dream you can find it HERE

Well, without much further ado I will leave you to the story.

Rowan had a busy day at work. The bookshop had become very popular in town and business was good especially since Aelin had convinced him a while before to set up an internet page and an online ordering system. It had taken a while to really kick in but now he was basically serving the whole of the Hebrides and he had started getting orders as well from some remote location on the western highlands. Aelin had been right. She was the one who had started his Facebook page after all. He hated the whole thing - he had even deleted the profile he had created for fun, but he could not deny that it was handy for business. He had started promoting his events, he had hosted some indie authors and also had started a reading club at the weekend. He was proud of the job he had done. And now, with his aunt he was working on another stage. Her cafe had been shut for a few months after the last bad storm and flooding had caused some heavy damage. So when the bill for repairs had come Maeve knew it was too much and had decided to close to the dismay of the locals who loved her cakes and food. But Rowan had come up with a plan. The unit next to his shop had been vacant for a while so, he offered his aunt a deal. She could reopen her cafe inside his bookshop and they could merge the two units together. It had taken some convincing but in the end Maeve had accepted and the works had officially started.

Life was busy but he had never been happier. The twins were seven and were in P2 and Rowan could not believe how quickly they were growing up. Freyja was still as wild and school had been a challenge. She hated being forced to sit at a desk. Hated the uniform. Hated school, but apart from her rebel attitude, the teachers kept telling them that she was a bright pupil and both Rowan and Aelin relaxed. Morrigan, on the other hand was the opposite of her twin. She adored school and was still the quiet one in the family. Dalamar was still at nursery and was meant to start school the following year.

On that day Evalin had picked up the kids and brought them to the shop, something they adored. Then Rowan had taken them to swimming practice. He had kept his part time job as swimming instructor and the kids had followed in his footsteps. The twins being older were taking proper swimming classes while Dalamar just joined the club for the wee ones and splashed happily in the water while his sisters learnt to swim. When Aelin was not busy at the hospital she would accompany them and play with Dalamar.

Usually the swimming classes were enough to exhaust his kids that he could cook in peace while waiting for Aelin to get back. That evening she had texted him that they had a last minute emergency and was running late.

He tried for the umpteenth time to concentrate on a recipe for the evening when Freyja barged in the kitchen running followed by her brother and screaming that a dragon was chasing her.

Rowan grabbed his daughter and lifted her in his arms burying his face in her belly causing the girl to laugh hard “dad, the dragon” and wiggled in her father’s arms to get free but Rowan did not let go. He just walked to Dalamar and offered him his free arm “hop on, oh mighty dragon.” The boy grabbed his father’s forearm swinging like a monkey and Rowan walked into the living room, his daughter under one arms and his son swinging from the other like a jungle creature.

Morrigan joined the chaos a moment later. Rowan kneeled and she climbed on his back.

In that moment he heard the door of the house open and an instant later Aelin waltzed in the living room and saw her husband completely overwhelmed by their children. She laughed at the scene “what is happening in here?” Her hands on the hips.

“A dragon is following me.” Shouted Freyja, with still too much energy in her.

“I am not a dragon, I am a monkey.” Replied Dalamar, swinging a bit more from Rowan’s arm.

“And what are you doing, Morrigan?”

“The dragon has burned the floor.”

Rowan moved to the sofa and started to deposit the kids down “come on, let dad cook dinner. And don’t shout too much, mum is tired.”

The kids slowly climbed down their father and went to greet Aelin who hugged them all “did you all had a nice day? Did you go swimming tonight?”

“Yes.” The two girls shouted “Dad taught us how to jump in head first.”

Rowan roared with laughter “and they still are two clumsy little terrors who smash their bellies.”

“Be careful with that.” Said Aelin in full doctor mode “that type of jump is very risky, they can snap their neck if do not enter correctly.”

Rowan took a step towards his wife and wrapped his arms around her “I know. I would never put our daughters in danger.”

“Good,” she gave him a chaste kiss “now let mum take a shower and dad cook?”

“Tha.” Replied the three kids in unison.

The kids climbed back on the carpet Dalamar going back to his bricks, Morrigan to her colouring book and Freyja just kept swinging her plastic sword fighting some imaginary monster. While Aelin disappeared in the bathroom, Rowan finally managed to get back to the kitchen and think about dinner. It was getting late for the kids and he knew they would soon start to become agitated again and start bellowing for food. He grabbed a towel and threw it on his shoulder and then started preparing the ingredients. He was preparing veggie burgers made out of cous cous and chickpeas. The kids loved them. He was the one who cooked the most in the house since his hours were far more reliable and he had been doing his best to cook healthy meals, to Aelin displeasure as she complained that there were always far to many vegetables in his dishes. But she was okay with the kids following a healthy diet. Morrigan was pescatarian. The girl could not stand eating meat and last time Rowan had tried to give her beef or chicken, the poor girl had been sick all night. Whereas fish, she loved it and she was a happy veggie eater like her father. Dalamar would occasionally eat meat but with very little enthusiasms whereas Freyja was just like her mother. She would eat anything on her plate.

He was busy preparing the patties when he felt Aelin’s hand around his waist and a gentle kiss on his back.

“How the shift at the hospital?” He asked while finishing the patties and heating up the oil in the pan.

“Long.” She sighed against his chest “your dear wife might need some adult cuddling tonight.”

Rowan laughed and turned in her arms, throwing his towel on the counter. A deep kiss that, after seven years of marriage still made her toes curl. Aelin’s hands linked behind his neck and Rowan pushed her against the island and Aelin moaned in appreciation.

Until all hell broke loose.

The smoke alarm pierced the quiet of the room with its grating sound and when Aelin opened her eyes again she saw a quickly spreading fire behind Rowan.

“Rowan!” She shouted.

He turned quickly and looked for something to stop the fire but he was paralysed and he knew enough that water was not an option.

Aelin was already on the phone with the emergency services while Rowan grabbed another towel and tried to smother the fire with the only result of burning his hand.

“Ro, fire department is on its way.” She took his hand “a bad first degree burn.”

He was about to go and put it under the sink but Aelin stopped him.

At the deafening sound, the kids burst in the kitchen but Aelin pushed them away, taking Rowan with her “Come on kids let’s go back to the carpet.”

Morrigan and Dalamar went in their mother arms scared by the commotion. Freyja was standing just near the sofa looking at the fire in the kitchen in a daze.

Rowan noticed her and grabbed his daughter in his arms, ignoring the searing pain in his hand “That is dangerous.”

“It’s pretty.” Said the little girl.

It wasn’t long after that the fire department arrived.

A woman with blonde hair, who was clearly in charge gave some orders and the team had the fire out in no time.

“Is anyone hurt?” Asked her, joining the family in the living room.

“My husband. First degree burn on his hand.” Replied Aelin pointing at Rowan leaning against the back of the sofa.

The woman called over the radio for a paramedic and Rowan scoffed claiming that he did not need one but at Aelin glared at him and he shut up.

And while Morrigan and Dalamar were still on the carpet quite shaken by the ordeal, Freyja was moving toward the tall woman. She reached for the hem of her bunker gear and pulled, claiming attention.

“Hello little one.” Said the woman kneeling to be at eye level with the girl “There’s no more fire. We fixed it. You don’t have to be scared.”

Freyja pouted “I was not scared.”

The woman laughed and brushed her silver hair and the girl grinned.

“Are you a fire woman?” She asked, looking at the adult in front of her with deep admiration.

In that instant another woman and a man came through and gave her a report, the woman nodded and got back to the girl in front of her “Yes, I am.”

Freyja beamed “can I be a fire woman too?”

The fire captain placed her heavy hat on the girl’s head which was gigantic on her but Freyja shouted for her parents but Aelin was busy speaking to the man and her dad was in the capable hands of a paramedic who was tending to his hand.

“You can be anything you want to be.” Said the woman softly, taking her hat back then she stood and Freyja bent her head upwards to stare at the woman while she walked to her parents.

“There is some damage and you will have to replace the stove and probably paint the wall near it.” She explained “I would suggest to have a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher for cooking oils. They can easily be found online and they are good to have in emergencies.”

“We will. Thank you so much.”

The woman nodded and left with her team, while the paramedic was finishing fixing up Rowan’s hand “Keep it clean and change the bandage regularly. There are ointments that you can use to help the healing process. If it gets worse make sure you go to the hospital.” Rowan looked at Aelin and grinned “thank you. My wife is an A&E doctor, I am sure she will keep me right.”

“That’s why she looks familiar. Western Isles hospital, isn’t it? You are Aelin.”

“Hi Sarah.”

Once the house was quiet again Aelin relaxed for a moment and Rowan went to Morrigan and Dalamar while Freyja was still staring at the door where the fire department had left.

“What is it, my love?”

Freyja turned at her mother’s voice, her face beaming with unbridled joy. They were all shaken by the evening, but her fierce girl was actually smiling.

“That was a fire woman.”

“Yes, my darling.”

“I want to be a fire woman too.”

Aelin crouched down to meet her daughter’s eyes and brushed some hair off her face “you can be anything you want to be, mo chridhe. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Freyja hugged her mother then ran to her father, sister and brother shouting that she was going to be a fire woman.

Rowan joined Aelin a moment later and pulled her to his chest “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“I got distracted.”

Aelin lightly punched him in the chest “I am the one who distracted you.”

He sighed “we have no dinner.”

“I’ll phone mum and ask her if we can go to her place.”

Aelin disappeared and Rowan stood in the kitchen looking at the mess. The fire had quickly spread and a part of the counter was damaged too. Everything was covered in foam and wasn’t even sure if it was safe to use the oven. The patties lay like burned blobs at the side.

Aelin came back a moment later “mum is happy to have us. She is probably making dinner already.” She tugged her husband “let’s go, buzzard. We’ll think about it tomorrow.”

Once they finished getting the kids ready they went back to their room “So, Freyja wants to be a firefighter. She was staring at the fire in marvel and was amazed at seeing the two women firefighters.”

Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest “She is fearless like you. She has fire in her. I can totally see her become a badass firefighter.”

Aelin hugged him back in silence.

“She is our wee fireheart.”

Twelve years later, when Freyja finished her training at the fire academy and was assigned at the firehouse in Stornoway Aelin and Rowan happily looked back at that night knowing that it had changed the life of their daughter and were never happier of a fire in their house.

#island dreams #rowaelin #rowaelinkids #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #domestic fluff

41 notes · View notes

dungeonsandblorbos · 4 months ago

Text

as the one to make this i should probably have to answer this myself for my own core OCs . . . and if this somehow comes back around to me i'll introduce my secondary/backup player characters and/or some fun major NPCs, like Milo!

without further ado, in no particular order:

Jun, 30: her immediate response would be, "Gods, no, fuck, that's way too many eggs. You know I'm 30, right?" and then she'd think about it. and then she'd think some more. and then she'd go bother her brother Tim, who is practically a professional cook and baker, about egg-heavy recipes and would he hypothetically be able to prepare a full day menu for one person that uses 30 eggs? and then she'd come back and go, "Yeah, I'll bet you a hundred silver plus the cost of three dozen eggs I can do it." her actual success would be entirely dependent on how effective Tim's menu was, and she'd almost certainly be a bit sick at the end of the day either way, but she's made worse bets before. without Tim's help, she'd probably just make a big batch of medium-boiled eggs and only get through 8 of them in an hour and a half before completely giving up.

Cerris, 23: he'd shrug and go, "Yeah, probably," and he would be right. he's broad and thicc and muscular and grew up on a small ranch, so he absolutely has the metabolism and stomach for it. his family raised ducks (as well as goats), so he'd use duck eggs instead of chicken eggs, just as a matter of personal preference. and he very much does not have the culinary knowledge to make it a non-challenge, but he knows enough to keep the day interesting, and as long as his mental health is decent, he wouldn't settle for monotony. if he could hire someone to do the cooking for him, his plan would be something like: a hearty breakfast consisting of a pork chop and home fries and 6 fried eggs; an entire 4-egg quiche with smoked fish and sharp cheddar for lunch; 4 hard-boiled eggs as an afternoon snack; homemade pasta (1 egg) carbonara (2 more eggs) for dinner; a little custard (1 egg) for dessert; and then like 6 fucking prairie oysters with vodka to end the day. and yes that does bring his count up to 24 even though the challenge was only 23, because fuck you.

Ariel, 29: yes, but only because he's the smartass fancy bitch who would find and exploit the caviar loophole. if the question were reworded to specify bird eggs, he'd say no and he'd be right.

Nina, 19: she would immediately and enthusiastically treat it like a competitive eating challenge and order a big portion of spicy pork belly and stir-fried veggies over rice from a local Chinese take-out place and top it with 19 fried eggs at home, and then try to eat it all in half an hour. and she'd invite her best friend Chuck over to time her and help her make all the eggs. she'd succeed with almost three whole minutes to spare and proclaim herself the Egg Queen for the rest of the week, and then add an event to her calendar to try it again next year after her 20th birthday. she would probably continue succeeding at this well into her 30s, although she'd probably have to change the parameters of her challenge to allow more time as she got older. for the record, she's all of 5'0" and like 110lbs.

bonus! Me, mid-20s: i'm pretty confident i could do it. i'm tempted to also take the fish egg loophole (although i'd probably go for salmon roe or tobiko over caviar), but that kinda feels like cheating to me, so instead i'd use a mixture of chicken and quail eggs and count eggs used as ingredients in other dishes, and also have an actual full day of eating instead of accidentally intermittent fasting like i do most days. i'd start my day with a small pork chop and home fries and 2-3 eggs scrambled, and i'd scarf down a 4-egg quiche with sharp cheddar and leeks and smoked salmon for lunch. then for an early dinner, gimme like 5 little crostini with fried quail eggs as an appetizer, a small steak tartare topped with 1 quail egg as the main, and like 6 raw quail egg shooters with vodka and tabasco to finish, because why not? i'll also do some spicy stir fry and rice for supper, with like 3 fried eggs, and the rest can come from dessert, which would be some kind of rich fudgy two-serving chocolate cake thing with homemade ice cream (netting me a final 2-4 eggs). and if that somehow comes up short, no it doesn't i'll just have more quail egg shooters or throw a souffle in there somewhere lol

New silly little OC tag "game"

this hilarious and thought-provoking post (link) happened to cross my dash this morning, and while reading through the replies i was struck by the image of one of my husband's OCs attempting this late in the series and having a literal mountain of eggs in front of him, which was so funny to me that i immediately decided i had to know this very important fact about everyone's OCs:

Over the course of a full day, could they eat their age in eggs? And if so, how would they do it?

the original poster called this a personality quiz and as silly as it is i am genuinely only half-joking when i say it's a very important fact. why? because it tells us about how your character thinks, as well as their understanding of their own capabilities (and their food preferences too, for fun).

does your OC take it at face value and go "No, I'm a full-grown adult; that's too many fucking eggs"? alternately, do they take it at face value and just down multiple cartons of raw eggs without even blinking?

or do they instead thoughtfully consider the challenge, planning out multiple egg-heavy meals and snacks spaced out over the entire 24 hours? do they do the same preparation of egg for the whole day because that's how they interpret the question/they just don't know that much about cooking, or do they mix it up and have different preparations each time to keep it from getting monotonous? do they get creative and count eggs that are used as ingredients in other dishes, like quiche and custard and souffles and homemade pasta?

do they get smart about it and decide to use quail eggs because they're smaller and the question never specifies what kind of eggs they had to be? do they get really smart about it and just eat a spoonful of caviar because the question never specifies what kind of eggs they had to be?

anyway this seemed like a fun and clever way to learn something new about everyone's OCs so let's get tagging! @somethingclevermahogony and @illarian-rambling i'm tagging you first because i literally thought about the casts of Testaments and Honor's Outcasts while writing this up. i'm also tagging my new moots @tombstuck-writes and @colombette because it seems like a fun way to get to know your casts better! and i'm tagging @thelaughingstag to put this idea in front of more writers. finally i'm tagging every single writer, artist, or TTRPG-er who sees this and feels inspired!

(also if you get tagged, feel free to do this for yourself as a little "get to know the writer/artist/player" too, either instead of or in addition to your OCs 😊)

go forth and eat eggs!

#my ocs #jun vyardes #cerris dalca #ariel sentera alvedes #nina grayson #about the blogger #tag game #egg tag game #original post #initially i was hesitant about trying to eat slightly more than two dozen eggs in one day #but the more i've thought about it the more confident i am that i could actually do it #those quail egg shooters are a key part of my strategy lol #anyway i look forward to hopefully seeing other people's responses for this for their OCs #because i know how absolutely unhinged some of my mutuals' OCs would be about something like this #of course if you got tagged no pressure to actually do this if it doesn't inspire you like it did me #this is just one writer's attempt to spread some silly little OC joy

4 notes · View notes

yoonjinkooked · 4 years ago

Text

Kitchen Confidential | Jin | FINAL

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: explicit sex, cursing, no longer a slow burn ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), unprotected sex (don’t do that), traces of a biting kink, oral (f receiving), short handjob, feelings. A LOT of mentions of food, so you’ll most likely be very hungry for both food and Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 9k+, previous chapters total to 16k

Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Read previous parts here: 1 / 2 / 3

SPINOFF ANNOUNCEMENT: COMING SOON, JUNGKOOK’S STORY IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL

A/N: And it’s done! This one took a while but I’m proud of myself for finishing this fic. I’m more responsible with my writing each day, and that includes actually finishing the stories I start. I have a few ongoing ones and a few wips that I am yet to post but Jungkook’s spinoff will come soon. If all goes according to plan, I will have about...20ish fics in 2021? So, let’s hope all DOES go according to plan. Thank you for following through with this story. Let me know what you think!

Yesterday was something else entirely.

You may or may not have called Jungkook more than ten times. Of course, you had complete faith in him and deep down, you knew he was more than capable of running the kitchen without you but it didn’t hurt to check, did it? So you did. Ten times, before he threatened to block your number, which then had you dialing Namjoon. You had reassured him that your leg is perfectly fine and that you are perfectly capable of standing through service for one night. He insisted that you should rest and that they have everything under control. Which you believed, you really did but you still wanted to check. You’ve stopped calling when he threatened to fire you.

Today was a different story. With no news of a fire breaking out in Bonsai’s kitchen, you were noticeably more relaxed, ready to spend the entire day with your leg propped on a pillow, a tube of ice cream in your hands while rewatching the first season of The Office. All was going according to plan by the time the doorbell rang.

Looking at the clock, you see that it is only 7PM - Bonsai was still open, probably ready for dinner rush hour. It couldn’t be Jungkook and he is quite literally the only person who drops by unannounced whenever he pleases. Did you order food and had a memory blank? You were going to order the house specialty from that new fancy Italian place at the other side of town, just to keep an eye on competition. But did you actually order it? Or are you going crazy?

The doorbell rings again and begrudgingly, you start getting up. “Coming!” you yell, grabbing your wallet as you go, wondering if you even have enough spare change for a tip. No longer wobbling, you simply walk slowly and unlock the door, your jaw dropping when you open it.

On the other side of the door, with a goofy smile on his face and his hands full of paper shopping bags is no one other than Kim Seokjin himself.

“Hi,” he offers a greeting and you could swear you see nerves hiding behind the smile - sure enough, when you stay silent for a second too long, still too confused to speak, you see the tip of his ears turning red. That always used to happen whenever one of the teachers at culinary school was about to taste his dish in front of the entire class. And you probably shouldn’t be aware of that.

“Um… to what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, once you can finally speak.

“I took a day off,” he announces, as if that is the only explanation you need. “I figured since you’re still officially on sick leave and your leg must hurt, you probably don’t want to cook,” he trails off, his ears now becoming redder. “I guess I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You want to make me dinner?” you check if you heard him correctly. This entire situation seems like a figment of your imagination, a very bizarre one at that. And you don’t even want to know how he knew where you live - that can of worms is not going to be opened.

“Yeah,” he nods proudly. “I mean, I’ll eat too, if you let me,” he jokes and when you stay silent, the smile slowly melts from his face. Realizing that you are leaving him hanging, you step aside to let him in.

“Come on in, the kitchen is the second door on the right,” you inform him and watch, still in a state of shock, as he takes off his shoes in the hallway before making his way down the hallway. That’s when you finally snap out of it, realizing that you won’t have enough time to process this as it’s happening. “What are we making?” you ask as you follow him into the kitchen.

“We are not making anything,” he emphasised as he sets the bags down on the kitchen island, before turning to face you with a stern expression, which instantly makes you feel like a scolded child. “I will be doing all the work as you sit back, relax and have a glass of wine. Unless you’re taking meds for your leg? I didn’t think of that,” he mumbles softly, frowning at the ground.

“No meds,” you inform him. His solemn expression turns bright so fast, you think you might be experiencing whiplash. What the fuck is going on here?! “What are you making?”

“I was wondering what would make an enjoyable, hearty meal that could speed up your recovery process,” he starts explaining. You want to tell him that a leg injury can’t be cured with food but you bite your tongue, not wanting to appear hostile, especially not when he’s in the middle of his grand gesture. You watch as he starts taking the ingredients out of the shopper bags - not one, but two bottles of Pinot Noir, the expensive kind too, followed by mushrooms, a whole bunch of veggies and one gigantic chunk of meat. It’s wrapped, but judging by his choice of wine, it has to be beef.

“You’re making beef stew?” you guess, surprised but not disappointed by his choice of dish. He, on the other hand, seems offended.

“What do you take me for?” he asks, very obviously exaggerating his reaction. “I’m a trained chef, Y/N. I’m making beef bourguignon.”

“Which is just a slightly fancier version of a beef stew,” you laugh, using humour to avoid thinking about the cook and prep time of beef bourguignon - at the very least three hours, even more if you want to Julia Child it and let it simmer properly. More than three hours with Kim Seokjin, in a row, without anyone around to hide behind? “Sounds good!” you lie, trying to look excited because you truly don’t want to ruin something that just seems like a nice gesture.

“Perfect!” he beams at you. “Now, where do you keep your chopping boards?”

No, you don’t have the time to think about it, not while it’s literally ongoing. You shake your head and decide to roll with the punches. “I want to help you, though. I can’t just sit here and let you do all the work. Not to mention how wrong it feels to have someone cooking in my kitchen,” you add, realizing that no one other than yourself ever cooked here - no one, ever.

“The cupboard under the sink,” you tell him as you sit down drag a chair towards the kitchen island, worried about the predicament you are in. First, the feelings, the ones you have shamelessly pushed under the rug and had refused to acknowledge. They have blindsided you and you can’t even properly define and understand him and now he is here, in your apartment, your kitchen, making dinner.

Not to mention that you aren’t exactly wearing your Sunday best. He’s all jeans and an elegant blue sweater, while you’re in mis-matched sweatpants and sweatshirt, which are both a size or two too big for you. Your hair is a mess and frankly, you can’t even recall if you’d washed your face this morning. You are a mess, both physically and emotionally and he has cornered you, most likely without even realizing it.

“In that case, you can peel and chop,” he starts laughing at your exasperated expression. “Come on, don’t look at me like that - I’m trying to do something nice here. The point is for you to relax and enjoy a good meal, a meal that someone else has cooked for you. And if you do insist on helping, then you can peel and chop.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you think you know why. It’s the feelings, they’re making you feel touched by his actions. He is spending his day off here, doing something nice for you, on his own free will? Just a week ago, all of this would have been a major red flag. And now it’s just something that makes you feel thankful, giddy even.

“Give me my peeler then,” you say, holding the palm of your hand open, waiting.

He smirks at you, shaking his head with what looks like disbelief and you smirk back, unable to stop yourself. The not so subtle stare off between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s miles away from the feeling you had over the weekend, when you were straight up avoiding making direct eye contact with him. This time, you’re keeping it up, smiling when he is the one who breaks. He turns around and opens one of the drawers, finding the peeler on the first try before leaning over the island and handing it to you with a smirk still present on his face.

“Let’s start working, chef.”

The decision to slow down with the wine after your first glass was a good one. Not only is the wine one of the best ones you’ve tasted in a while, you also wanted to keep a clear head. Alcohol tends to greatly weaken your brain to mouth filter and that can’t happen when you’re one on one with Seokjin. You don’t want to ruin the evening.

It felt as if he was the same Seokjin he was back when you first started school. The interesting, charming guy with a good sense of humor. He can still act over the top, which he did, but he was more toned down than usual. Is usual even the right word? It’s not, not when you don’t have much to compare it to. This is the first time the two of you have been alone for more than a few minutes, simply talking and enjoying the conversation.

“You can’t be serious,” Seokjin laughs, putting one of the plates that he was washing back in the sink to turn around and give you a doubtful look. “You mean outside the subway, right?”

“Nope, it was below ground, right around the corner from the trains,” you confirm, remembering that day clearly. “I remember that I was starving, so maybe that’s why the croissant was so good. It was cheap, on a Parisian subway and it still is my favorite food memory from Paris.”

“You’re picking that subway croissant over… ratatouille or bouillabaisse?”

“I said favorite, not the most delicious one,” you point out with a laugh. “Travelling and eating go hand in hand, at least to me. Wherever I went, I’ve made a point to spend a good amount of my budget just on food. I’d go where the locals go, try food I didn’t recognize… Honestly, I miss that. I’m limited to one vacation a year and it’s usually just one destination.”

“I get that,” he tells you as he continues washing the dishes, which he insisted to do, despite your multiple offers to at least cover the clean up part of the evening. “A good friend of mine lives in Greece, owns an amazing restaurant. I’ve gone there for the past three years and don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I live for Greek food. But I want to explore more, you know?”

“That’s very relatable,” you sigh, suddenly feeling a little bit regretful. “I’ve been to Italy, Japan, France numerous times, had the most amazing experiences but there are so many other places waiting to be discovered and I just play it safe. I want to go somewhere and try… I don’t know, all the weird stuff that sounds unappetizing but is actually the local specialty. I’m a bit tired of the classic dishes that end up on our menus and comfort food.”

“What’s your favorite comfort food?” Seokjin asks you, as he finally wraps up his work and joins you, sitting across the island and reaching for his own glass of wine as you try to think of an answer. Comfort food by taste or comfort food by memory?

“I have to go with potatoes.”

He chokes on his drink, making you laugh at his reaction. Once again, you are met with a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Potatoes? Out of all the food in the world?”

“You said comfort food, not favorite food,” you remind him with a grin. “And yeah, it’s potatoes. They’re so simple and versatile and you can do whatever the hell you want with them. When I was a kid, my mom used to make me and my brother these stuffed, roasted potatoes. I don’t even know the ingredients honestly, I’ve never tried making them myself like that. To get that original comfort food taste, it has to be made by my mom. No one else.”

“I’m a professional chef and I still fully acknowledge that I’m nowhere near as good as my mom is,” Seokjin’s admission makes you laugh but you understand it fully. “She used to make the most amazing mac and cheese. Unlike you, I did try to recreate it - I followed her recipe to a T and still ended up with a sad imitation. Nothing ever beats the food you grew up eating.”

“Are you close to your family?” you ask and regret it immediately, wondering if that is too much, if you’re asking questions you have no business knowing answers to. You’ve known Seokjin for years but you could hardly call him a friend when you know so little about him.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he nods, not even hesitating to share information about his personal life. “I visit them often and I try to go fishing with my brother as much as I can. What about you?”

“As close as we can be,” you shrug, reaching for your wine. “You know what our working hours are like and as much as I want to drive and see them on the weekends, I often just can’t. And my brother lives abroad with his wife and kids, so we rarely see each other. We facetime often, though. His kids are already starting school next year.”

“I have a niece,” Seokjin smiles with that cute, content smile that now feels familiar. You wait as he pulls out his phone, turning it to proudly show off the photo he selected - it’s him with a child in his arms, a little girl with the cutest face, big smile and tiny little pigtails. She can’t be more than three years old and she looks so happy to be held by her uncle.

“Oh, she is so cute! She adores you, doesn’t she?” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

“I think she loves me more than her parents,” he admits, breaking into a fit of laughter. “She doesn’t let go of me, which I don’t mind, I adore the kid, but she just fuels my mother’s need for more grandchildren and when she clings to me… well…”

“Oh, I know,” you wave your hand. “Mine have two grandchildren and not a single reunion passes without them wondering when I’m going to reproduce.” They mean well, you know that and you don’t hold it against them. There are just times when they make you feel like you’re not doing a good enough job with the life they’ve given you, just because you haven’t had kids yet. Yes, they mean well but that’s not something you often want to hear.

“Do you want kids?” he asks. It should feel weird, it really should, talking about these things with him. It’s personal, too personal even, but you feel so at ease around him tonight, you can’t be bothered to care. It doesn’t feel wrong, not in the slightest.

“One day, yeah,” you shrug, seeing as this wasn’t something you thought about often. When you’re single and haven’t had a serious relationship in years, kids are on the back burner. “What about you? I don’t know why, but I never pegged you for a parental type.”

“You don’t know me very well then,” he laughs and the way he does it is so… cheeky and teasing. If anyone else was sitting here with you right now, you would swear on your life that they were flirting. Without a doubt, the teasing smile and raised eyebrow would make your mind go in that direction. Seeing as this is Seokjin, you can’t be too sure. It goes against everything he has ever said and done. But like a curse, Jungkook’s words come back to haunt you again. Would it be so weird to think that he likes you? He is here, after all.

“You’re right,” you nod as you put down your glass. “I don’t know you very well, do I?” he seems surprised at your question, even going so far as to look uncomfortable. Only for a second, before he offers you a smile.

“What would you like to know?”

“Why are you here?” you ask. It wasn’t what you were planning on asking, not by a long shot. You wanted to ask stupid questions, to find out what his favorite movies are, what’s his most embarrassing memory - the things you know about your friends. A game of 20 questions was what you had in mind when pointing out that you don’t really know a lot about him but when the opportunity presented itself, your self control had other plans. And seriously - why is he here?

Seokjin blinks a couple of times, seemingly needing time to process your question and think of a decent answer. “I wanted to do something nice,” he shrugs, giving you the same excuse that he had given earlier. You didn’t doubt it much then but now you’ve started wondering. “We’ve decided to start over and I… wanted to extend an olive branch.”

It makes perfect sense and you don’t believe a single word of it. “Why are you really here?” you push, following your instinct. Said instinct might be affected by the feelings but it’s there. And if there is one thing you’ve learned in life, it’s to follow your gut feeling - always.

Seokjin chuckles nervously and lo and behold, his ears give him away. “Do you think there’s an ulterior motive here?” he asks, shaking his head. He’s a decent actor, but not nearly as good as he thinks he is. He’s way too defensive for someone with no ulterior motives. “I didn’t poison the beef bourguignon, if that’s what you’re aiming at,” he adds, pointing back at the stove, where your dinner has been slowly simmering for about an hour now.

“No, I don’t think you’re trying to poison me,” you chuckle, shaking your head, wondering if you should just stop talking and drop the whole thing entirely. “I thought that… You know what? Never mind,” you decide, knowing that some questions are perhaps better left unanswered. “Tell me, what’s your favorite TV show? Are you a binger or a once a week type of guy?”

“Y/N, you don’t get to change topics on me like that,” Seokjin looks serious now, refusing to break eye contact. You struggle to not look away, knowing that you have pushed it too far and now you’re unable to backtrack. He won’t let you. “What did you think?” he asks.

What’s the worst thing that could happen if you answer truthfully? He could laugh at you and that’s pretty much it. And if he does start laughing, you can play it off and join in on the joke. And if he pulls the ultimate dick move and tells your mutual friends about it, you can always deny.

“The things that happened over the weekend had made me wonder,” you tell him, deciding to leave out the part when Jungkook opened your eyes to this possibility. “Some of the things that you’ve said kind of got my wheels spinning, you know?” you ask. As he swallows a lump, still not looking away from you, you decide to rip off the bandaid and throw your theory out. “Call me crazy and feel free to laugh and tell me I’m a fool but… Seokjin… do you like me?”

Zero emotions are shown on his face. It’s the most perfect poker face that you have ever seen - exposed forehead, full lips and all. Self confidence was never a strong suit of yours, except in the kitchen of course, but you know better than to try and backtrack now. Seconds ago, it was still salvageable. Now, you’ve said it and it’s out in the open. You were either right or wrong.

You wait, not backing away from the nth stare down of the night. You wait, letting him have his time to prepare an answer, whether it’s the truth or a lie. If your suspicions weren’t correct, wouldn’t he have already said something?

“What gave me away?”

And there it is. Jungkook was right and you were blind. How are you supposed to feel now? Relieved? Worried? Panicked? Amused? None of those make sense, nor do they describe the way you are feeling now. With Seokjin looking at you as if he has finally given up, finally surrendered, the only emotion that you can single out with clarity is curiosity.

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t sure, I half expected you to laugh mockingly or something,” you admit, finally looking away and shaking your head, as if that’s supposed to get your thoughts in order. “The other night, when you said that you just did it to make me laugh… I thought, maybe…”

Lies. Jungkook figured it out, and even then, you refused to believe. Even now, you’re still expecting Seokjin to start laughing, claiming that he had pulled off the ultimate prank. He doesn’t - in fact, he looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Makes sense,” he lets out a dark chuckle. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Or pissed at myself. I’ve said too much, I’ve set myself up,” the way he runs a hand through his hair, with that solemn look on his face makes him look… hot. Like, really hot. “But at least it’s out in the open, right? Now you know.”

“Wait,” you raise a hand. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say. Like… since when? How? Why? I… I don’t get it.”

“Since when?” he laughs. Now you’re borderline worried, the guy looks like he’s going to experience a mental breakdown any second now. “Pretty much for as long as we’ve known each other. I know, shocking,” he adds, seeing how your eyes had widened when you heard his answer. “To think how I thought that I was obvious.”

“Oh no, you weren’t,” you sit up straighter, your voice raised up a notch. “You were anything but, Seokjin. I thought you despised me! That I was your arch nemesis or some shit like that.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t obvious to you but I was to others, I’m damn sure all of Catnip knows by now,” he tells you and he looks as if he is calming himself down. His voice is lower and he’s no longer making eye contact, but staring at the island between you. “What I said was true, I did do it to make you laugh and somewhere along the way, I’ve pissed you off, so much so that you went on thinking that I hated you. Which I don’t, by the way. Never have.”

“You… you are a horrible flirt, you know that, right?” is all you can say now, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man had a crush on you for years. This time when he laughs, it’s not the dark tone that his laughter had just moments ago. This time around, his laughter is very much genuine, but it also dies down fast.

“I’m very much aware of that,” he confirms, finally looking your way again. There’s not a trace of positive emotion on his face. It’s as if he has completely given up on this conversation ending with a positive outcome. You can’t blame them for that - given the questioning that you’re putting him through and your history together - if you were in his shoes, you’d also see this as an uncomfortable rejection conversation.

Is it, though? It would be, if it weren’t for the feelings. They’re there. You have no fucking clue what they are, much less what they mean but they are there and you can’t ignore their existence any longer. They remind you that once upon a time, he really did make you laugh. That this whole dumb rivalry made you want to work harder and be better, even if it was for the petty reason of simply being better than him. The feelings remind you that you did always consider him attractive, that that stupid smile that he has when he’s truly happy and content does things to you. The feelings remind you that you can recognize the tell-tale signs of his embarrassment. You might not know him well, every line and crevice, every positive and negative but you still know more than you had originally thought. And you want to know more.

“Why?” you ask, knowing you won’t have a peace of mind until you know, even if asking such questions might make him feel uncomfortable. “Why me? I just… I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I,” he answers immediately, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t have a big reason behind it or a particular moment when I realized. Liking you was instant. Of course, it didn’t develop into something… deeper straight away. That part lasted years, but it was impossible not to like you, Y/N. We’re chefs. We make food, that’s our job - our job is to take food and cook it, presented in a visually appealing manner and charge for it more than we should. And you take such a simple, almost meaningless thing and turn it into an art form.”

Although touching and meaningful, his words confuse the life out of you. “You like me because I’m a good chef?” you ask, wondering if you’ve missed something.

“I like you because of the dedication you give to it,” he elaborates. “That stupid excercise that we did the other day didn’t let me do you justice. The look on your face that you’ve had on that first day remains the same now, whenever I see you taking the simplest ingredients and turning them into art. I have admired that and it’s one of the reasons why my eyes would look for you every damn time we were in that test kitchen. You were there and so focused, so beautiful and so damn good at what you did. And smart, funny, a good leader and a good friend. It also didn’t hurt that you look damn hot when you’re focused on something.”

The last part he adds, almost like an afterthought and it makes you laugh. He laughs too, when you make eye contact. The feelings have gone haywire. You officially have no control of them because the things that he has said about you, you recognized in him as well, at one point or another. He is so good at what he does, dedicated and driven, while also being a good leader and from what you’ve seen, an awesome friend. To others he was funny - to you, he was a pain in the ass that just so happened to look damn hot when he was focused on something.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit when you start feeling as if the silence is lasting too long.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he waves his hand, dismissing your suggestion and once again, confusing the hell out of you. “It’s out in the open and now you know why I was an idiot for all those years. I meant what I said when I told you that I wanted us to start fresh and be friendly with one another. I’m a big boy, I know that what’s not meant to be is not meant to be.”

“No, you’re not,” you shake your head, amused at the confusion etched on his face. “You are childish and often petty and honestly, at times you are the most insufferable being on this planet and I can’t even begin to describe how confusing it is that I find that endearing.”

As you listed all the things he is, you watched as his face fell, but you didn’t have a chance to feel bad about it, not when you know that despite all of that, he’s still a good guy. He’s still Seokjin, with all his quirks and insufferable moments. And as much as you might want to deny it, you like him. You really do like him.

“Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always endearing - in fact, more often than not, you were a real pain in the ass. You’re not a big boy who can handle rejection well and I don’t want to see you handle it. I don’t want to watch you struggle to get over this crush of yours for weeks, months even. I also don’t want to watch you finding it easy to get over it, completely forgetting all about it in a matter of days,” you tell him and you’re not even sure if the words make sense but they go out of your mouth and into his ears, making his eyes go wide.

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?”

“I have no fucking clue,” you shrug, getting up from your chair. “I didn’t have enough time to process any of this. Just minutes ago, I thought there’s no way in hell that you’re that dumb to pull a third grader flirting technique,” you keep talking as you walk over to him, watching him as he turns to face you, slightly alarmed by your sudden proximity, even if there’s a good two feet between you. “I’m not fully aware of what I’m saying, or feeling for that matter, but I do know that I am feeling something. Don’t ask me to define it, cause I can’t, not in this mindfuck of a plot twist that my life did not prepare me for. I just know that I want to test something out.”

“Test? Test out what?” he asks as you take the final step to close the gap between you.

“This,” is all you tell him as you grab a hold of his cute blue sweater and pull him closer, not wasting a single second before you press your lips to his. Neither of you moves for a moment or two, he out of shock and you out of pure confusion because why the hell are you kissing Kim Seokjin?! A few seconds pass and it’s he who starts moving, bringing life into your dead kiss. And the moment he does, you feel it in the pit of your stomach that there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong about this. When he puts his hands on your sides, you let yours move from where they were clutching onto his sweater up and around his neck, pulling him down, closer to you. The strands of hair that reach the nape of his neck feel like silk under your fingers and when you feel his tongue graze your bottom lip, you softly gasp.

That makes him pull away - that little gasp of yours seems like a wake-up call for him because he is pulling away, his eyes wide, making him look as if he thinks he is imagining all of this. He looks shocked but he is not letting go of you and your hands are still locked behind his neck.

“Kissing you is good,” you conclude. “I want to keep doing that.”

“Zero complaints here,” is all he says before he stands up and kisses you again. Without breaking the kiss, he twists your hips to the side, making you lean back on the island, the edge of the surface pressing into your back as he essentially cages you.

It’s funny, how many things about him you never really realized. For example, how tall he actually is and how much he has to bend down in order to kiss you, which he does, diligently. You also have never noticed how clear his skin is, not until your fingers grazed his cheeks softly. He was in front of you, right in front of you, all these years and until tonight, he was nothing more than an annoying guy with a good face. How wrong you were…

“Of course, you’re a good kisser too,” he sighs as he breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead on yours, his eyes still closed. “Are you an overachiever in every aspect of your life?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, chuckling when he backs away, startled.

“That’s not… I wasn’t trying to insinuate something,” he defends himself immediately.

“But I am,” you giggle at the way his eyes widen. You can’t blame him - this night has made you go from zero to sixty in no time. That realization does make you nervous but you’ve already decided to push it back and just do whatever it is that you want to do. “I’m telling you, I don’t want to think or define. We can deal with that later. Now, I just want… you.”

Seokjin takes a second, gulping, looking at you as if he is waiting for you to laugh in his face or take the offer back. When he stays silent for what you deem as a bit too long, you smile softly at him and drag your thumb across his bottom lip - it’s so soft and inviting, already red from the kisses that you’ve shared. You want him and he needs to stop second guessing that.

Whatever it is that he was looking for on your face, he seems to have found it because he’s suddenly kissing you again, with a lot more ferocity than he did just moments ago. That was a kiss, a first kiss, a getting-to-know-what-this-feels-like kiss - this is a kiss. Hands digging into your skin, tongue driving you crazy with gasps and heavy breathing kind of kiss.

You are the one who pulls away but you stay silent, taking his hand into yours and leading him towards the door. A silent moment is exchanged when he looks at the stove, where your dinner is still cooking, then back to you. Beef bourguignon takes hours to make and given the years of expertise between the two of you, you’re comfortable with leaving the stove on. So you laugh and he does too, before you pull him into the hallway.

Along the way, you kiss, hit a few walls and your sweatshirt is left discarded on the floor - you don’t have time for another freakout at how ridiculously unprepared you are for this because the way he looks at you kills the little insecurities that haunt you. His eyes scan over any area of skin that they can see while his fingers slide over the very edge of your bra, tickling the skin they graze. Goosebumps cover your skin and you all but slam him into your bedroom door.

“Woah,” he laughs. “Never thought you were this impatient.”

“I’m usually not,” you admit with a shrug.

“I’m not complaining,” he laughs as the two of you waddle towards the bed, still pressed to one another. You smile as you push him gently onto the bed. He looks up at you, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “Oh, I am not complaining at all!”

Smiling, you straddle his lap and pause for a second, taking a moment to get used to what’s happening. Unlike you, he is patient - he simply looks at you, a strange mix of awe and giddiness written on his face. His hands are glued to your hips and he runs his thumbs in circles, gently. It looks as if he’s relishing the moment and letting you take the lead in what’ll happen next. “This is really happening, isn’t it?” you ask, your chest filling with pride when he shows you that signature smile of his, the one that causes a ruckus among the butterflies in your stomach.

“I think it is,” he leans closer to you, connecting his lips to your neck and that one, simple action is enough to make you realize that if he’s down, you’ll be more than happy to take it all the way tonight. Neck kisses are a universal weakness and you’re gladly going to let him use it to his advantage. “If this ends up being a wet dream of mine, I’m going to be so pissed when I wake up,” he admits before nipping at your skin, an action that elicits a whole new wave of horniness to take over you. Neck kisses are bad enough - neck bites will be your downfall.

“If it is a wet dream, come and find me when you wake up and tell me what you’ve told me tonight. Then we’ll see what we can do about it,” you joke, laughing even harder when he grabs a hold of you and moves you down on the bed. This is the first sign of initiative that he has shown so far and you are not complaining. It’s your turn now to gulp as he hovers above you, looking down at your body like he is seconds away from eating you alive.

“I thought you were hot before but I never thought you were hiding all of this under your clothes,” he tells you as he pulls down on the straps of your bra - at least your underwear is a matching black set, if the rest of you is a mess. Lifting your back from the bed, you help him take the fabric off and he grins up at you once your boobs are out in the open. “Chef’s uniforms really didn’t do your boobs justice.”

“You’ve seen me in casual clothes plenty of times,” you laugh at his antics. He’s known you for years, there’s no way he didn’t catch a good view of your cleavage in all that time.

“Not nearly as often as I should have,” he mumbles and before you have a chance to talk back, he leaves you speechless as he attaches his mouth to you, immediately giving your nipple a gentle bite. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you do your best to stay silent - there’s no way in hell Seokjin won’t be cocky about this later and you don’t want to give him too much material to work with right off the bat.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that one of the hottest things about being with Seokjin like this is simply seeing Seokjin like this. There is just something so inherently hot about the way his eyes close as rolls his tongue across your nipple. He makes the sight even hotter than the action itself, especially when he reaches for your other breast, gently playing with it as he pleases. Simple actions like that are already driving you nuts and you can only worry about what’s to come later. And it gets worse - turned on by the sight, you reach for him, moving the hair away from his eyes and the second you two make eye contact, a moan leaves you - a loud, shameless one at that. You could swear his eyes twinkled then and there.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” he starts kissing down your body.

“If you’re clean, you don’t need it. I’m clean and on the pill.”

He suddenly stops kissing you, choosing to laugh instead. “You’re telling me that a week ago you could barely stand being in the same room with me and now you’re letting me sleep with you without a condom?”

“I mean...” you shrug, joining in on his laughter. “I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

“Not to me they haven’t,” he jokes, before immediately turning serious. “Are you sure you want this? I really don’t want you to regret it,” he admits.

“The only thing I’m going to regret is letting you take the lead because you’re taking too long and you’re still in your clothes.”

“Easy,” he laughs as he hooks his fingers past the waistband of your sweatpants and slowly starts pulling them down, leaving your underwear in place. “Eat what makes you happy, they say,” he says and you roll your eyes. Of course, leave it to Seokjin to think pussy.

“They also say don’t play with your food,” you playfully remind him as you kick off the pants. He doesn’t laugh - instead, he reaches for your leg and softly caresses it.

“Is your leg going to be okay?” he asks and if you weren’t whipped beyond belief before, you are now. Even you have managed to completely forget about your injury but he hasn't. Even now, Seokjin finds ways to prove you wrong and show how thoughtful he actually is.

You simply nod and that’s confirmation enough for him. His hand trails up and on the inside of your thigh pausing before touching your wet underwear. He gives you a questioning look, not touching you until you confirm that that’s what you want. You nod quickly and in a matter of seconds, the last of your clothes is on the floor, and Seokjin is diving right in.

Despite complaining that he’s taking too long, you realize that he’s not the one to tease - at least not tonight. His mouth connects with your clit almost immediately and it’s enough to make you moan again. He licks, sucks and grazes his teeth against it, letting you hold onto his hair like your life depends on it. He’s good, which makes perfect sense because leave it to Kim Seokjin to give you the best oral sex of your entire life. You won’t tell him - not now, perhaps not ever, cause he doesn’t need that to get into his head too, but good lord is he good.

“Can I?” he asks, tracing his finger across your opening.

“Seokjin, at this point you can do whatever the fuck you want,” you laugh, a laugh that turns into a moan when he sinks his finger in, curving it up immediately and making you arch your back.

“Is this good?” he asks and the feelings go berserk again. In your mind, it can’t get any better than a man that actually pays attention to what his lover enjoys.

“More than,” you moan as he adds another finger and effectively ends your conversation. He is driving you crazy - something that you’ve noticed before, when you side eyed his chopping skills years ago, is how he has beautiful hands with long, almost elegant fingers. Never did you think that those fingers would be inside you, making you count your blessings and struggle to not moan out his name. A struggle that you have lost when he puts a third finger to use.

You want more - as amazing as it is, you want more. You want to kiss him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he is making you feel now. As much as you didn’t want to stop him, as much as you’d gladly spend hours like this, you wanted and needed more.

“Seokjin, stop,” he does so immediately, looking up at you in worry. His face is covered in your wetness and the sight makes you want to cry. He has never looked hotter than he does right now, between your legs, the evidence of your pleasure all over his face and his hair a mess because of you. “I want you. Wanna kiss you.”

“But you taste heavenly,” he pouts, turning his head to leave kisses on your thigh.

“I’ll taste heavenly a bit later too,” you push, knowing that no matter how good this feels, it can get better for the both of you. “Come on, I want to see you.”

Grinning, he gives your thigh a quick bite - the man has a biting kink, there’s no denying it. While that’s something you’ve never given much thought before, you are now finding it very enjoyable. What’s even more enjoyable is the sight of Seokjin taking his sweater off. You’ve known he’s handsome, you’re not blind, but never in a million years would you think that he’s so well defined. He’s not buff, far from it. He is just so perfectly defined, every muscle on his stomach noticeable and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, lickable.

He undresses quickly as you ogle at him, your breath hitching the moment he drops his pants.

“Well, that explains a lot,” you comment as you eye his dick - hard, girthy and surprisingly big.

“What?” Seokjin is confused and you giggle at the way he hides his dick with his hands. “You think I’m compensating for something?”

“Quite the opposite,” you answer honestly. “I imagine it’s easy being so full of yourself with a dick like that.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” he laughs.

“Both,” you would have been more cheeky if he hadn’t started stroking himself, the sight driving you absolutely crazy. “Please. I want to feel you.”

You don’t have to say it again - he moves to loom over you and finally, after what feels like hours and not mere minutes, you can kiss him again. The taste of you on his tongue doesn’t bother you. It’s the opposite, actually, making this moment and Seokjin himself even hotter to you. He lets you push him down onto the bed and without breaking the kiss, you station yourself above him. For the first time tonight, his hands grab a hold of your ass and he squeezes - hard.

Both of you stay silent as you move, putting your arm between the two of you to grab a hold of his dick as you kiss. He lets out a groan the moment you wrap your hands around it. Movements gentle and slow, teasing even, knowing that this is the only chance you get to focus on his pleasure. You’d gladly take him into your mouth but you’re much too impatient for that tonight. A brief hand job will have to do, and judging by his reactions, it’s more than enough.

You are surprised at how vocal Seokjin actually is in bed, not that you’ve given it much thought before. He’s not holding back, his moans low and deep, not embarrassed in the slightest to show you how good you’re making him feel. After one particular, higher pitched moan, you decide to do the same. You were holding back before, stupidly worried about your own dignity and giving him material to tease you endlessly. You won’t anymore.

Biting your bottom lip and pulling it as he breaks the kiss, he leans back, looking at you with lust in his eyes, his cheeks the exact same shade as the tips of his ears. You want to take a photograph, to memorize the sight of him being turned. It feels like a privilege that only you have and you want to commit it to memory. “Y/N, please,” is all he says.

Slowly, you line him up to your entrance and with your bottom lip between your teeth, you sink down on him. Immediately, the both of you groan at the feeling. Him being inside you feels right in all the wrong ways, a feeling so right that you know you’re going to miss it when it’s gone.

He is the one who moves first, lifting his hips to get you to move. Smiling down at him, you grab a hold of his shoulders and slowly move your hips, letting him almost slip out of you before swallowing him whole again. Each roll of your hips faster than the previous one, not even a minute passes before Seokjin moves his hands away from your ass and pulls you directly on top of him, chest to chest, lips stuck in a slow kiss as he slams up into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good Y/N,” he tells you and follows it with a particular hard thrust that makes you grip his shoulders harder, holding on for dear life. Having never been with him before, you couldn’t tell if he was close or not. You weren’t, yet strangely, that doesn’t bother you whatsoever. That can be dealt with easily - now, all you want to do is enjoy the feeling of him slamming into you, hard and fast, and the sight of him barely keeping it together.

“Happy to hear that,” you giggle before said giggle is rudely interrupted with another harsher snap of his hips. “Fine, fine, you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease and the look he gives you is enough for you to know that you’ll regret saying that. Immediately.

Without any warning, he flips you around and slams you down on the bed, his dick never leaving you. Before you can even react in any way, your healthy leg is pushed up towards your chest and Seokjin slams into you with a purpose. “You talk about how I annoyed the life out of you, pretending like you’ve never bickered back with that mouth of yours,” his words are menacing and incredibly sexy, but the way he is eating you up with his eyes kills any doubt that his words are actually resentful. “I’m glad I’ve found a way to shut you up,” he announces and as if you weren’t losing your mind already, he sneaks a finger between your legs and pinches your clit, eliciting the loudest moan of the night. “Or maybe not.”

“Seokjin!”

“Fuck, you sound so hot screaming my name,” his pace speeds up, knowing that your orgasm is right around the corner - his thrusts become more shallow but his fingers rub your clit in the speed of light. “Come on Y/N, come for me.”

As much as you wish that your body complied and let you come on his command, it didn’t happen that way. It took a few thrusts more, a few more harsher movements of his fingers, but by the time your orgasm has washed over you, you were gasping loudly, digging your nails into the skin of his back. Your brain was mush and you could barely recognize the words he’s saying, something about how you’re squeezing him so good. He doesn’t stop moving, helping you ride out your orgasm to the point of overstimulation. Coming out of your post-orgasm haze, you fight the overstimulation and focus on him, noticing how his thrusts are getting more erratic. He looks so out of it, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his shoulders red with how strong you are gripping him. Slowly, you slide your hands up and around his neck, pulling him down to you, ignoring the painful stretch in your leg.

“You can finish inside me,” you tell him, hushing his loud moan with a kiss. It’s a hectic kiss, your lips barely moving because he’s gasping into your mouth and you’re moaning at the feeling of his dick twitching inside you. “Seokjin, please come for me.”

Was it you begging for him to come or a creampie kink, you have no idea and you don’t particularly care because the moment he comes and starts filling you up, you’re on cloud nine. It feels as good as an actual orgasm, to know that you, your body, the way you made him feel was enough to make him explode, very literally. You were the one helping him now, lifting up your hips as he stood still, his face buried in your neck, his groans filling your ear. His dick is still twitching but his body has completely given up - he drops your leg and practically falls on top of you, having enough strength and sanity to soften the blow with his hands.

His hands give up slowly and in a matter of seconds every inch of him is pressed up against you. You don’t care, too busy relishing the feeling of his breaths on your neck and his cum slowly dripping out of you and around his dick. God, you wish you could see it but the position won’t let you. Instead of pushing him away to get a better view, you close your eyes and let your body calm down together with his.

His weight on top of you should feel suffocating but it’s not. It feels comforting and right, which scares you to an extent but not enough to chicken out and push him away, especially not when he starts kissing any parts of you he can reach, focusing on your shoulder. After a few moments he rolls over but stays close, his hand draped over your side. You look at each other and it’s impossible not to smile because he is beaming. You can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this happy. You must have - it’s just that you probably weren’t paying attention.

“So… that happened,” he speaks up first.

“Yup. Talk about a plot twist, huh?” you joke, shaking your head as you realize how weird this is on paper. “Culinary school Y/N never thought a day would come when she’d have sex with Seokjin.”

“Yesterday’s Seokjin never thought a day would come when he’d have sex with Y/N,” he laughs, shuffling closer to you. By the looks of it, he is a cuddler and you have zero complaints about it. You let him hold you, snuggling against his chest, enjoying the moment a lot more than you ever thought you could. “Let me take you out, Y/N,” he tells you. He seems earnest and a lot more hopeful than he was back in the kitchen. “You found it in you to put the tension behind and give us a shot at being friends. Why not give this a shot, too? I like you a lot and I’ve liked you for a while… maybe you could find something to like in little old me?” he shrugs.

“It’s already too late for that,” you laugh, lowering your head to leave a few kisses on his chest. “I’m still not ready to define it and put it to words but I’d be happy to go out with you,” you admit.

“It might not take us anywhere,” he shrugs, making your head bounce with the movement. “For all we know, you might realize you do hate my guts after all. But maybe we end up getting along better than anyone would expect?”

“Seokjin… with your cooking skills and your oral skills, we’re already getting along very well, if you ask me,” you joke but after a few seconds of laughter, he sits up and pushes you away.

“The beef bourguignon!” he gasps. The sight of Seokjin running out of your bedroom, naked, to check on the food brings tears to your eyes. You can even hear him berating you, yelling something about how this is not a laughing matter but that only makes it more comical. Isn’t it ironic how now, he can make you laugh without even trying?

The beef bourguignon didn’t burn. It was the best beef bourguignon that you’ve ever had. The entire evening was one of the best in your recent memory. Whether it was the dinner, his sweater that you were wearing while you ate, the wine, the shared shower or waking up the next morning in his embrace, the time you’ve spent with Seokjin was enjoyable, perhaps even meaningful and definitely worth repeating.

As long as you are both willing to give it a go, it’s worth it. And it has to be kept between the two of you, at least for now. Cause as much as you like Seokjin, his cooking skills and his dick, your group of friends will never, ever, let you live this one down. Although, for all of the above… it might just be worth it.

THE END

#BTS smut #bts fanfiction #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #bts au #seokjin au #bts scenario #bts fanfic #jin x you #jin x reader #bts jin #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #yoonjinkooked #jin scenario

235 notes · View notes

love-takes-work · 4 years ago

Photo

Very Cool Potluck

Did you know that some people are so dedicated to reproducing Steven Universe recipes that they’ll both put cheese puffs in their sushi AND willingly bring durian into their homes?

I will teach you the basics of how to prepare the Cool Kids’ Potluck and also tell you the story of how I got food poisoning.

(Sorry, Lars’ ube roll is not included, because it didn’t make it to the potluck. It is available as a separate recipe, of course.)

See more SU food tutorials!

I decided it was time to do the Cool Kids' POTLUCK!

STEVEN: (holds up Snack Sushi) "Who's feelin' lucky?"

SOUR CREAM: "I brought the soda."

JENNY: "I brought the pizza."

BUCK: "I brought the assorted fruit."

And Sadie brought paper plates to complete the set. Too bad Lars's Ube Roll couldn't join them!

Okay, so we have a four-part meal. Most complicated of course is the sushi! We can assume it is Snack Sushi, which I have made before but didn't really give instructions. Steven explains pretty well but doesn't give you a sushi rice recipe. How about I just tackle this here and show you how?

Recipe 1: SNACK SUSHI

Ingredients:

11 1/2 ounces sushi rice

1 1/2 cups cold water

4 tablespoons rice vinegar

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 package nori (seaweed sheets)

1 avocado

1 bag cheese puffs

Mayonnaise

Hot sauce

First, sushi rice is made a special way. I am no expert, but the way I do it has worked fine for sushi in the past. First you measure out your 11.5 ounces of rice and put it in a sieve, then wash thoroughly with tap water.

Put it in the pan you will cook it in, pour the 1.5 cups of cold water on, and let sit WITHOUT COOKING for 30 minutes.

When the soak time is up, turn on high and boil. As soon as it hits boil, turn to low, cover, and cook 15 minutes. Then turn off the heat and let steam in the pan for 10 more minutes. You now have fluffable, tasty, sticky steamed rice!

Next, make your vinegar concoction. Combine the vinegar, the sugar, and the salt in a small dish. Microwave it to dissolve the sugar. I did this in a few 20-second bursts. It smells strongly but I love that smell. Make sure when you stir it, there's no sugar on the bottom! It must be dissolved.

Pour the concoction over the hot rice and stir it in. You are ready to work with it!

From there, it is as Steven shows us in "Cooking With Lion."

• Put nori on a rolling mat, rough side up

• Spread sushi rice on the nori thinly

• Halve the avocado, remove pit, cut in slices and rub a spoon around the avocado flesh to dislodge it

• Place the avocado slices in a line on the rice

• Place a line of cheese puffs in a line next to the avocado

• Roll compactly, tucking as necessary to get it into roll shape

• Cut!

You'll also need to make "spicy mayo" for the garnish. Steven uses hot sauce and mayonnaise. Mix together and squirt neatly onto the top of each roll.

"Who's feelin' lucky?!"

And that's the recipe!

Tip:

Use rice shortly after cooking. Refrigerate it if you will not be eating it soon after. Guess who got food poisoning from eating old rice because of this? CAN YOU GUESS?? 🤢

Recipe 2: PIZZA

So I've made pizza from scratch half a dozen times already for this show. I'm not gonna do it again. (Here's my personal Fish Stew Pizza recipe.)

Jenny simply brings pizza from work! So I decided to go the easy route and purchase a commercial pizza this time.

We never actually see the pizza eaten. I will assume it's the default pepperoni pizza and add veggie pepperoni to mine.

Baking in the oven per box directions as I figure out pizza boxes!!

Jenny's got four dang boxes of pizza on that table. I'm sorry, but I will not be preparing four pizzas. I live by myself and am not actually having a real potluck here. I will use comic book boxes to provide the illusion of many pizzas even though I am only cooking one. Shhhhh.

I actually used paper cutouts and markers to design my own Fish Stew Pizza box!!

Done! Next!

Recipe 3: SODA

Another recipe where I don't really make anything. I am just dressing up a bottle of Diet Coke.

But at least I made it look like the soda Sour Cream brought (termed "So-Duh").

Recipe 4: ASSORTED FRUIT

Oh god.

Buck, you clown. 🤡🤡 You went and bought various pokey-skinned fruits and forced me to BRING A DURIAN INTO MY HOME.

Folks, do you have any idea what durian is?

Let's just say it's known as the King of Fruits and it is SMELLY. You can't look up anything about durian online without related news stories discussing areas where durian is BANNED, neighbors complaining if you bring durian home, and tips on getting the smell off your hands and out of your breath.

I've bought frozen durian before to make Durian Juice Boxes. It was bad enough frozen. But then I had to go buy a FRESH STANK MACHINE at the Asian Market.

The things I do for this friggin show

So we have pineapple.

We have dragonfruit.

And we have &%#!%@ durian.

Durian! People! Do you have any idea what my house smells like!!! And they put it in a bag like that because you can't pick it up without GETTING STABBED! god what am i doing

Anyway.

There, you happy?

Here is my beautiful POTLUCK.

Add paper plates because Sadie brought them and now Sour Cream is thrilled he doesn't have to do the dishes.

Also, I'm sure it wouldn't be all that much fun if you didn't get a quick lesson on how to eat the weird fruits, even though the Cool Kids did not cut into them. Right?

So after I recovered from food poisoning from that rice, I put down a plastic tablecloth on my outdoor porch table, gathered an assortment of knives and plates, grabbed some gloves, and prepared these fruits for eating.

Dragonfruit:

Cut in half. Cut further in quarters and eighths. Peel the fruit out of the husk and store.

Verdict: I don't like dragonfruit. It tasted like weird, hurty watery kiwi. Maybe you should know I'm allergic to kiwi. This is probably related. I shouldn't eat this.

Pineapple:

Cut the top and bottom off and discard (including the bush at the top). Slice the remainder completely in half. Cut the core out--you shouldn't eat it. Then slice each half and slice again into manageable strips. Cut lines in the fruit and cut them off into a storage container.

Verdict: I am allergic to pineapple so I didn't try it, but it smelled amazing. I saved it for my friend.

Durian:

All right, stank fruit, here we go.

Cut the stem off and flip the durian to stand on the top where you cut the stem off. Use pot holders to manipulate because otherwise IT WILL CUT YOU. Examine the durian's shape and see if you can figure out based on its bulges where the huge scary pods are inside. Make a cut through the very tough husk and pull it apart with your hands.

Pods will emerge. They are soft and delicate, so if you hold them too hard they'll break. Each contains HUGE seeds. Take the seeds out before eating. Go around the rest of the durian and get all the pods out. It's a scavenger hunt! Store.

Verdict: The smell is literally not any worse when you open it. It is a very thick, pervasive smell but to me it didn't smell like a rotting corpse or poop or anything.

But then I ate a little bit and the aftertaste was really dark and musty. Dip a butt in tropical fruit syrup. It was pretty vile. I swallowed it though, and my mouth was Very Unhappy. I do not like durian.

I guess I'm 0 for 3. My sushi made me sick because I left the rice out for hours, I can't eat any of my fruit, and I reused the pizza to make a damn Pizza Steve.

But at least my life is interesting while it's being a disaster, huh?

At least I can still drink my So-Duh.

See more SU food tutorials!

#steven universe #food #the good lars #potluck #the cool kids #myblog

79 notes · View notes

elleonmybeloved · 4 years ago

Text

For the city of song, wind, and wine, it was a regular occurrence every other month to hold a music competition. Onlookers would gather around the large open space surrounding the statue of Barbatos and anybody above the age of thirteen could compete as follows: perform three songs, one of which had to be an original composition, solo in front of the audience. There was no limit to the number of instruments one could use, but since the rule was for solo performance only, it was unusual to see the use of more than one instrument.

The prize was 10,000 mora, 3 free meals from Good Hunter, and a commemorative feather artifact meant to honor the wind archon. There was of course, clout associated with the victory however, so naturally all the bards in the city of Mondstadt competed fiercely for the victory.

Lumine had the pleasure of finding out about the competition as a result of trying to buy some mint and honey and being told by Blanche that she would likely be out of stock by eight a.m. every day for the next week and a half. Mint tea with honey was one of the best ways to soothe the throat, so the city’s bards were snatching it off the shelves and shutting themselves in to compose and practice their songs without risking anybody hearing and ruining the impact of their performance.

For the young woman, it meant no sticky honey roast, radish veggie soup, calla lily seafood soup... unless she felt like picking it herself or going to Liyue just to buy some. And she sure as hell wasn’t about to attempt finding and messing with a bee hive in the wild. Unintentionally acquired powers of wind or not.

At the moment though, Amber was taking it harder than she was.

“Ugh I totally forgot that the Good Hunter doesn’t sell sticky honey roast this week because of the competition... I was totally looking forward to a nice hot plate of sweet ham after all the hilichurls I had to chase off the roads today too.”

“Why not have a sweet madame instead?” Lumine suggested. “It’s basically the same thing.”

Amber gawks at her. “How can you say that? See, this is what makes it so obvious you’re not from around here. Everybody knows the taste of those two dishes are not even remotely similar to each other.”

She’s teasing, it’s obvious from the exaggerated shock and pout of her lip, but something about what she said makes the neutral smile slip from Lumine’s face.

“Hey, if you think about it, she’s right you know!” Paimon comes to Lumine’s defense. “One ingredient is sugar, and the other is meat!”

“You eat slimes.” Amber says. “On purpose. Sorry but that automatically disqualifies you from giving culinary advice.”

“Wait a minute. On purpose? That implies a story I think I’d very much like to hear.” She turns to see Kaeya walking up behind them, a bag of something in his hands. It seems he had been shopping. And eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Oh no, there’s nothing like that.” Amber waves her hand in a nonchalant motion that would be convincing if she could lie with her face as well.

“Mmhm, sure.” He says with that smirk that never seems to leave his face.

“I should get going.” Lumine says, cutting off Amber’s reply before she can open her mouth. Once these two get started they can really argue, and she doesn’t have the time or energy to stick around for that. Especially when Charles made a deal with her to probe customers for info on her brother if she could find and bring back all of the lost business records that had been spewed from the tavern during the storm.

“Okay, see ya later!” Amber says with a salute.

“Yes, run along now.” Kaeya makes a shooing gesture.

The sun is setting by the time she is looking for the last one, hasty now that the natural light is fading. She had found some on the roof of all places, and she had all but scoured the ground, so here she was looking down dusty chimneys and clinging to the roof tiles like a squirrel every time the wind made her spook.

“Gotta be around here somewhere.” She mumbles to herself. Paimon had since gotten hungry and was presumably out eating, or looking for something to eat.

It’s a bit of a habit to use her elemental sight when searching for something, even though there wouldn’t be any traces she knows of on the documents. That’s how she ends up seeing it. At the top of the windmill, bright teal anemo energy, leaking out from the door and window in a slow trickle. Above the window, papers, caught in the gear that connects the wooden support to the spinning white blades of the mill.

“Aha.” Those must be the documents. Lumine gets a running start off the roof of the house and launches herself in the air. Thank the stars for the wind crystal Venti gave her- with a whoosh it pushes her up and gives her the altitude necessary to skip what would’ve been a sketchy climb up the curved wooden wall of the mill. Below her, she sees a young woman at the base of the mill reading and writing something in a notebook, and prays she doesn’t look up. Sure she has her license but it would still be embarrassing to be seen. Or asked questions of.

Landing with a modicum of grace, she very carefully steps across the roof tiles over to where the papers are stuck. It takes a bit of gentle wiggling but they come loose, and she puts them in her pack.

No sooner had she buttoned the flap than had the door to the balcony below her slammed open, and a “Who’s there?!” startle the absolute daylights out of her.

Lumine looses her footing.

She doesn’t hear the “oh crap” someone says because she is falling with a panicked shout, but before she can even open her glider wings, she’s being gently floated through the air. Wind carries her back up and places her gently down on the floor of the balcony. Standing above her with a distressed look on his face, Venti abandons his lyre to rush over and pat her in several places, checking for injuries.

“Oh no, are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to make you fall!”

“I’m fine.” She says breathlessly. Behind them the door is open and there’s a small room filled with straw, crates, and some random items strewn about.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, hands still patting at her, blue eyes wide. “I didn’t even know it was you, traveler.”

“I’m okay.” She gets to her feet. In the room there is paper strewn about everywhere like a tornado hit. “...What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He casts a glance down and behind her. “But not out here.”

He scoots back inside the room and motions at her to come in. Curious, she does so. He closes and locks the door behind him.

“So...” She prompts.

“So,” He says, “You found me! Good job. How’d you do it?”

“Uh, what do you mean found you? I wasn’t looking for you.”

“You weren’t?” He looks genuinely surprised to hear this.

“I was looking for some tavern documents blown away in the storm, I found them on the roof.” She explains. “Why would I be looking for you?”

“Heheh.” Venti laughs nervously instead of answering. “Oh! I see!”

“What’s with all the papers?” They are seriously everywhere. Lumine knows him well enough to know he’s not the scholarly type.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“... Okay. Never mind then.”

“Just kidding!” He’s quick to quip when she doesn’t get the joke. “But it is a secret so if you want to know you have to swear you won’t tell a soul!”

“I swear.” She says curiously. “Aren’t I already keeping one of your secrets well?”

“That you are.” He nods. “Very well. I’m in the middle of composing a new song. And practicing my other one.”

He announces it with a lot of weight, like it’s something super important and not exactly the type of thing she would expect a bard to say.

“And that’s a secret because?”

“A new song to use in the upcoming music competition. Surely you’ve heard of it? It’s a new tradition most people in Mondstadt know about.”

“Oh, that. Yeah I have heard. It’s why I can’t buy any mint or honey for the next week or so.”

“That’s right! I have some though, do you want some?”

“No, it’s okay.” Seemed like he needed it more anyways. “Is it going okay though?” She refers to the papers strewn willy nilly.

“Sort of.” He says, absentmindedly plucking at his lyre. “I’ve got my first song down, it’s one of the old ones from a few hundred years ago called Lion Heart, a ballad about the bravery of the great hero Venessa.”

“Who?”

Venti’s eyes go wide. “Who’s Venessa? You mean you haven’t heard of her? She’s the most famous hero in Mondstadt’s history.”

“... Not from around here.” She says. “Not really familiar with history yet.”

“Wanna hear the story? I have several songs you can choose from that tell it.”

“Hmm. Will it cost me?”

“Ahahaha! Of course not. For you Lumine, my performances are always free.”

“Okay then.” His enthusiastic smile is contagious, and although Lumine has no interest in Teyvat’s history beyond what could be relevant in finding Aether, she can’t help returning it with one of her own as she takes a seat on the floor.

The next hour is spent regaling her of the tales of a young woman whom she could not forget was a redhead even if she tried. Venti’s voice is beautiful, and he sings with such reverence and fervent adoration of this hero that she almost suspects a deeper relationship existed than that of the sung supporting role of Barbatos in this historic rebellion.

“You must really admire Venessa.” She says after clapping and giving a small smile at his formal bow.

“Everybody does.” He says with a shrug. “She was something special.”

Something squeezes hollowly in her chest.

“Now that I think of it, she’s the one Jean mentioned when she got sick from overworking and I had to help out.” Lumine pulls forward the relevant memory, blocking out the strange aching feeling. “She must have been a force to be reckoned with to make Jean feel inferior.”

“I could sing her praises forever.” A rare seriousness passes over Venti’s face. “So brave. Fiery hair like a flame that would never die out.”

Lumine has never seen a woman with red hair. It must be rare in Teyvat. It must be considered very beautiful.

“What about the other song?”

“Ehe, right, the other song. That is, the one that I’m composing. Well I’m not having much luck. But I think you could help me.”

“Me?” She asks. “What can I do?”

“Tell me about your most recent adventures.” He replies. “For inspiration.”

Lumine is flattered. “Wait, you’re writing a song about me- my adventures?” It’s kind of embarrassing to say from the pure self importance it assumes but she is sure she hasn’t misunderstood him.

“Heheh. Would you like that?” He’s rubbing the back of his neck. Lumine forgets about redheads.

“It’s a little embarrassing.” She claps her hands together in her lap, feeling warm. “What are you going to say?”

“Nothing weird, don’t worry!” He’s quick to say. “Nothing private either.” He’s probably talking about the unknown god and the loss of her powers.

“It’s fine with me.” Lumine acquiesces. “Just don’t get carried away. I don’t want a bad reputation.”

“It’s not that kind of song.” Venti is quick to assure her. “It’s uhhh... well, you’ll find out.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise? Heheh, nah, you’re just going to have to wait and hear it when everybody else does.”

Before she can say anything in response, she covers a yawn. It must be well into the night by now.

“Oh, you must be getting tired. Sorry for keeping you so long. Didn’t you need to go do something? I totally forgot about that.”

So had she.

“It’s okay. I do need to get going now though.” She says it with a sigh, getting up to leave. “Good night... and good luck with your song.”

Venti beams like the sun. “Thanks! I have a feeling it’s going to go just swimmingly now. Good night!”

Leaving the room feels like re-entering the world as the lights and sounds of the city surround her once more. Funny, despite the music, it had felt so quiet in there. Like they were the only two people for miles.

Weird.

#genshin impact #venti #traveler #venti x traveler #part 1 of this bit for now #is Lumine jealous of Venessa? ...perhaps.

207 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself.

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant.

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already.

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression.

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy.

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing.

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics.

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day

#bts headcanons #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts domestic au #bts hurt and comfort

334 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 3 years ago

Text

@ninja-knox-ur-sox-off I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT BEFORE i wrote anything easdfgdserweesd IM STUPID

Spirit is not hiding.

They’re not.

Huddled in the storage closet hidden in the kitchen, curled up behind boxes, they are not hiding. They’re just...relaxing. You know, taking a break.

It has nothing to do with the fever they have. Absolutely nothing.

Sure, Spirit knows from their readings that bedrest is important when it comes to dealing with illness. If mom was around, she’d be telling them to lay down and relax.

But, as they remind themself every day, mom isn’t here, and Spirit does not have the luxury of being a child who can rest. They’re an adult now, with responsibilities. Pigsy put them in charge of the shop. They have to make sure things run smoothly, even if they’re tired and a little more than a little dizzy.

They lean their head back against the wall and sigh. They have another hour until Pigsy gets back. They were running low on spices in the shop, and Pigsy had to run out to a place a good while away and Spirit was in charge because Pigsy trusted them.

They can’t mess it up.

They press their palms against the floor, and take a deep breath to steady themselves to get back to work. Their breath catches in their throat, but they swallow the urge to cough. They’re about stand, when

“That is not a good hiding spot.”

Spirit’s eyes snap open. They freeze in place. Eyes wide and terrified, they hardly breathe.

He wasn’t supposed to be back for an hour! How did he find out? He’s going to be angry. He’s going to yell, because Spirit failed him and now they’ve proven themselves unworthy of his time or care or anything because they’re not supposed to fail-

Pigsy comes around the boxes that were supposed to be a sheild, glancing down at them with confusion written all over his face.

“Hey, Sprite, you doin’ alright?” He raises a hand, reaching out.

Spirit flinches, hands raised, and they turn their head away, shaking.

The shop is silent. Spirit is too afraid to open their eyes again.

“Hey,” Pigsy’s voice is feather soft. Spirit hears him lower his hands. “I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. What’s wrong?”

Spirit turns their head back to fast they give themself whiplash.

“I’m sorry,” They start. “I didn’t mean to mess up, I made sure all the orders we had were done before I came back here, I wasn’t going to stay long, I was just sitting down for a second, I’ll get back to work, I’m sorry-,” Their tirade is cut off when they cough, curling in on themself as they hack up the mucus stuck in their throat.

“Okay,” Pigsy starts, when Spirit’s coughs peter out. “First things first-I’m not mad. There’s nothing wrong with bein’ sick, kid. I wish you’d’ve told me sooner, you look terrible.”

Spirit blinks a few times, staring up at Pigsy in bewilderment. He’s not mad? Why wouldn’t he be?

“Second,” Pigsy continues. “Let’s get you up to the apartment. This store room is no place to lay down in. C’mon,” He squats down to their level, hooking a hand beneath their arm and carefully pulling them up.

Spirit stumbles a little, swaying on their feet as Pigsy carefully leads them out of the store closet and through the kitchen.

“How did you know I was in there?” Spirit asks, instead of the hundreds of other questions they have. Their head is a bit scrambled, between the haze of sickness and the slowly receding terror.

“MK,” Pigsy replies simply. “When you aren’t paying attention, he watches you. Checks up on ya’, since you’re wrose than he is at taking care of yourself. He saw you swaying on your feet and texted me. Told me you went into the closet when I showed up.”

Spirit rubs their many eyes, trying to stay upright. They feel very, very warm.

“Did you get your shipment?” They ask, because that’s the important thing.

“Nah,” Pigsy waves a hand. “Mei’s been wanting a long drive anyway, so I asked her to get them. It’s not an issue.’

They manage to get up the stairs, though Spirit has to lean heavily on the wall to keep going. From there, Spirit stumbles into Pigsy’s apartment.

Pigsy doesn’t take them to their hammock, though. He doesn’t even lay them down on the sofa, pulling them past the kitchen and living and into a room Spirit has never dared enter.

The bedroom.

Spirit doesn’t have the energy to really take it all in, letting Pigsy settle them onto the bed, pulling out their hair tie and setting it on the sidetable. Spirit expects him to grab their glasses next, but it seems that they shifted back to monkey form when they weren’t paying attention, so there’s no need.

“Sorry,” Spirit mutters, again. They don’t know why they’re apologizing, just that they ought to.

Pigsy pulls up the covers and leaves, coming back a minute or so later with a cold compress he places on Spirit’s forehead. Spirit’s eyes close as they soak in the feeling of being cool, a respite from how warm they’ve felt all day.

“You’re alright, Sprite,” Pigsy assures. “Get some rest.”

Spirit’s never been one to argue against an order.

They rest.

Their dreams are far from pleasant. They’re running, unsure as to where and only knowing that should they stop they’ll feel nothing but pain. They have to keep moving. Long legs carry them what feels like miles, shadows nipping at their heels as whispers and shouts of rage get closer and closer.

They trip.

They fall.

Tumbling into a wall that wasn’t there before, they scramble to get up, to escape, but walls close in until there’s nowhere to go but backwards, and they can’t do that.

They turn around, staring at the mass of shadows that congeals into a figure. Eyes, flickering with different colors. Brown, Purple, Yellow, Blue. A wooden spoon, a shadow spike, a looming claw, a metal spoon.

Reaching down, the yelling gets louder.

It always touches the same place. It always digs into the same place.

It always hurts in the same place.

They always scream.

There’s a hand on their shoulder.

Spirit throws a hand towards their latest attacker, claws bared, and

Their wrist is grabbed, and their hand stops, inches from Pigsy’s face.

Spirit blinks.

They’re in Pigsy’s bedroom.

Oh.

“Oh!” Spirit yanks their hand away, cradling it against their chest. They’re mortified. “I-I’m sorry, I-uh-I didn’t mean-,”

Pigsy waves a hand, holding out a bowl of soup.

“Don’t worry about it. MK’s hit me worse, and he’s got monkie kid powers,” He tells them. “Eat.”

Spirit takes the bowl. They sip it carefully. It’s just a simple broth, with a few short cut noodles and some chicken and veggie cubes. Spirit realizes that they’re hungry a moment after tasting, and the dish is demolished in a minute.

“Thank you,” Spirit whispers, afraid to say it too loud.

Pigsy takes the bowl.

“No problem, kid. Get some more rest. You look a little better already,” Pigsy gets up to leave.

“Okay-but!” Spirit reaches a hand out to stop him. “Um, when I’m better, could you teach me how to make that?”

They gesture to the now empty bowl Pigsy is holding. Pigsy raises a brow.

“I-I mean,” Spirit fidgets with the blanket. “It’s different than the, uh, other stuff I know how to make, so...”

They want to know how to make it so when Pigsy is sick, they can do this. They need to even the score. Or, moreso, they want to. Pigsy is nice, almost too much so, and Spirit has to return it. That’s how a transaction works, right?

Maybe they can never repay Pigsy, but they can certainly try. It’s terrifying, to be in someone’s debt. Pigsy could tell them to do anything and they couldn’t say a thing against it.

Pigsy just smiles. He ruffles their hair, soft.

“Sure, kid.” He replies, heading out of the bedroom.

Spirit thinks Pigsy deserves a lot. They really need to figure out how to make it so Pigsy has the world. But maybe that’s for later, because they are very tired, and Pigsy told them to rest. They ought to listen.

When they fall asleep this time, their dreams are kind.

#kitkat1003 #Yin Spirit #lego monkie kid #monkie kid oc #monkie kid pigsy #prompts

28 notes · View notes

iisuya-simps · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee shop au (Doppo x Reader)

A/N: decided to do a little scenario for the birthday boy Doppo! Hope yall enjoy :)

Word count: 1798

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were a literature student at university. Every morning you see this man come into the coffee shop around 8 o clock. 'Poor thing, always looks so tired and rundown.'

One morning was particularly busy. You overheard his order from one of his many visits and decided to pay for it. He comes in an hour later frantically looking around, wondering if he should leave the line. One of the employees waves him down and gives him his order. That lady over there paid for your coffee. He looks completely baffled and turns to see you waving. He thanks the barista and walks to your table.

"Hi um, thanks for paying for my coffee miss." He scratches the back of his head nervously. "No problem. My name is Y/N by the way." You extend your hand to shake his. "Oh! I'm Doppo." "It was busy today and I figured you always look so busy." His eyes widened. "You can tell from just that huh?" You nod. "Well, it's true I don't have much time to myself outside of work..."

"What do you do? Oh, I'm a salaryman." "Ah, I see. Must be pretty tiresome work." "It would be alright if my boss didn't give me so much to do." His fists clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry for rambling." "It's alright." "I actually have to get going. I can already feel my work piling up." He shoots you a bemused grin.

"It was nice talking to you." "Would you have time to chat over coffee on the weekend? Seems like you have a lot more to say." "Maybe! Uh, I'll be back tomorrow." "Alright, see you." He waves and scurries out of the cafe. "What an odd guy. I hope he's not overdoing himself too hard..." You continue your writing.

The next day Doppo joins you for coffee. "So Mr. salaryman, how goes life?" You sit down at the same table you were at yesterday. "Oh uh, I'm kind of always on the go." "Do you have any hobbies?" "Well, I do have a few houseplants. I keep a bunch of cute little succulents around my place like a salad bowl, giant velvet rose, it's actually just a small one, and a tiny cactus-" He stops there because he feels the conversation dragging.

"What about friends?" "Hifumi has been my friend since elementary school. Despite everything, I'm glad he's still around." "That's nice to hear." You smile. "Oh! I've been so busy talking about myself I never asked about you." " Well, there's not much to know." "Nonsense, what do you do? I saw you with your laptop yesterday." "I'm a literature student at ___ University." "So you're a writer? That's pretty interesting."

Over the next few months, you became fast friends. Doppo would join you in the morning for coffee and a small chat then dash to work.

(Insert clever transition here)

"Doppooo." You call out to him and wave your hand in front of his face. "Doppo?" He snaps back into reality. "Hmm? What is it y/n?" "Are you alright?" "I'm f-fine. Why do you ask?" You shake your head. "It's ok to have a break every now and then y'know. You've been spacing out all day." "Yeah, sorry y/n. I guess I just have a lot on my mind." "Why don't we do something?"

"Would you like to go out? Hang out I mean! Somewhere else! Anywhere! You can choose!" "Hmm, I think a walk would do us both some good." "Uh yeah s-sure." Doppo sweats a little.

"Hey uh y/n, I'm not a very athletic person as you can probably tell..." "That's alright, It doesn't have to be a long one. Why don't we just walk down to the park at our own pace?" "Oh, o-ok sure."

Leaving the cafe you walk about 15 minutes to the nearest park and sit down on a nearby bench. You turn to face him. "I'm worried about you Doppo. Are you taking care of yourself?" "I'm just hanging on like I always do..." He gives a nervous chuckle. "You didn't answer my question." He hangs his head and sighs. "What's the point?" "The point is your wellbeing Doppo. Here." You pat your lap. "Just take a little rest. "N-no I shouldn't-" "I don't mind." Hesitantly he lays down on the bench and rests his head on your lap, blushing.

It didn't take long for him to immediately fall asleep on your lap. You laugh to yourself. 'He looks so peaceful like this, just like a cute little man child.' You carefully stroke his hair making sure not to wake him up. A small blush forming on your cheeks.

After a while, he awakes and rolls over. His sleepy teal-blue eyes meeting yours.

"Y-y/n!" He sits up abruptly, a bright red blush flooding his cheeks. "I-I'm so sorry! How long was I asleep?" "Not long, you could have napped longer if you wanted to. It looks like you needed the sleep." "Erm, yeah. thank you." His cheeks still burning red. "You can lay back down if you want. You still have a few hours before you have to go to work right?" He considers, thinking how comfortable your thighs were cradling his head. "I-I don't want to be a bother..." "Just lay on my shoulder then. We can both take a nap." "Okay."

Doppo leans on your shoulder and closes his eyes hoping that you didn't notice his quickening heartbeat. Resting your head on his crimson locks you close your eyes and fall asleep into a short slumber together.

t-t-t-transition---------

"What would you like to eat?" "Anything, I'm starving." You giggle. "I was going to make some omurice~" He visibly perks up. "I'd like that very much." "Omurice it is! Topped with some cilantro." You lick your lips. "U-um. No cilantro for me thank you..." he winced trying not to gag.

"Oh no, you have the cilantro hating gene, don't you?" "Yeah, it kinda tastes like soap." You dramatically toss your hand to your forehead. "That's so tragic. I wish your taste buds could appreciate the fresh springy sprigs that are cilantro. But alas! I'll just top it off with chives."

"Y-you can have cilantro! It's not a problem if you want to!" "I don't want to make you sick with the aroma." "I'll be fine as long as I don't eat it! Really!!" "Ok ok. I'll do both." "Do you want some help? Omurice is one of the only things I can make..." his head hangs a little. "Sure! I could always use some help chopping some veggies."

You were coming over to Doppos place every weekend now to make sure he was eating well and getting enough sleep.

After prepping the vegetables and cooking the rice, you dice up some chicken and mix in the vegetables and spices, also adding some ketchup. Then whisking an egg with a little milk you cook the omelette and add the chicken, veggies and rice. Folding the egg over you make a little ketchup smiley face with dimples on the side of his plate and top it off with some chives. Then do the same with yours.

"Here you go!" Doppo's eyes light up when you hand him the plate. "Waaaah, it looks so professional! Let's dig in!" You watch as he smiles while eating, savouring every bite. "Oh y/n this is so good." "Thank yourself, you helped make it too." You smile. "Yes but mine never tastes this good. It must be something you did!" "You'd be surprised what difference a little salt and pepper can make."

You both watched a show while eating, Doppo went back for seconds.

"Thank you for the delicious meal y/n. You've been doing a lot for me, I appreciate it." "Of course! I'll always try and be there for you when you need me." "Would you really?" Doppo's palms get sweaty as he turns to you with his head down. "Would it be so wrong to think that there's something between us? I-I know I'm a pessimist and an overall mess. You basically take care of me like I'm your kid- Oh, who am I kidding you don't want me... I'm a ball of anxiety and-" you put a finger to his lips and he blushes immediately.

"I like you too, Doppo." You smile. "Y-you do?" He sighs visibly relaxing. "I thought I really blew it there... but I'm glad you feel the same." You place your hand over his. "I care about you Doppo."

After a few more shows and an awkward silent stroll, Doppo walks you back over to your place and says goodnight.

"Thanks for everything y/n." Knowing he wouldn't be the one to make the first move (in this case anyway) you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He looked so cute with his flustered expression and blushed cheeks. "Night Doppo."

When you lay down on your bed for the night your heart races and butterflies dance in your stomach. Then your phone pings from your nightstand.

"I had a really great time today! Not like I don't any other time! But today was special! The texts came flooding in one after the other. You beam and reply "Yes today was fun. Now please get some sleep. You need it." "I'll try!"

Epilogue I guess---------

Even though you move in with Doppo quite quickly it turns out to be the best thing for the both of you. He does his best to look out for you and you look out for him.

In the morning you both wake up, he boils water for coffee and you make breakfast. You'll still visit the coffee shop every now and then, but there's nothing quite like having breakfast in bed with your partner.

You always call him during lunch and inbetween to make sure he doesn't forget to eat. When he comes home he'll help you with meal prep if he's not too exhausted. Then you'll eat dinner in front of the tv and watch a show.

After dinner, you both wash and dry the dishes then sit down on the couch and cuddle. On a good day, you watch a few episodes of your favorite show together. But on an exhausting day, Doppo falls asleep within the first 10 minutes. But you don't mind. You simply flip the station and admire his sweet peaceful face as he lays his head on your shoulder.

If it's late you wake him up with head pats and guide him to bed in a half-asleep stupor joining him soon. When you're in bed he always has one arm around you. Usually, your back to his front or the both of you facing each other in an embrace until you wake and the cycle begins anew.

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

Thank you for reading!

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #doppo kannonzaka #doppo x reader #matenrou #happy birthday doppo #sweet sleepy child #i love cilantro #do yall read tags at all?#am I talking to no one?#just wondering

40 notes · View notes

shoutaaizawas · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do 5 and kirishima? I think he would be such a man about it and feel so much pride to eat his girlfriend/crushes food.

You are so right, Kirishima would be so happy to eat anything his girlfriend would cook for him.

↳ kirishima ejirou x reader → home-cooked meal

event: domestic prompt follower celebration word count: 1,589 tags/warnings: domestic fluff, anniversary date a/n: this accidentally became the anniversary prompt as well and it’s longer than expected but kirishima deserves it tbh

You were okay at cooking, you knew how to do it but it was a bit overwhelming to prepare a whole meal. It was your six month anniversary with Kirishima and you wanted to do something special. Six months wasn’t long but you had fallen so quickly for the charming hero.

So that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen making a three-course meal and quite frankly you were in over your head. Kirishima loved steak so you decided to go with that for the main course with rice and his favorite vegetables on the side. For an appetizer, you were going to make tempura fried vegetables. And for dessert, you were making a triple chocolate cake. Kirishima loved chocolate so you knew he would love the recipe.

Kirishima would be over soon, you had set the table with candles and the nice dish sets you had gotten for tonight. You wanted everything to be perfect. The vegetables were cooking, the steak wouldn’t take long to cook, and the tempura was ready to fry in just a moment. You put the cake in the oven, by the time it was done you could throw the frosting on while Kirishima picked out a movie to watch.

A knock on the door signaled his arrival and you ran to the door excitedly. You pulled off your apron wanting to show off the nice outfit you picked out. Opening the door Kirishima stood there dressed nicely in a dark dress shirt with the top three buttons open that was tucked into dress pants. You stopped a moment to drool over how good he looked and it seemed he was doing the same.

“Babe~ You look beautiful in that.” He said before pulling you into a bear hug. Kirishima gave the best hugs there was no doubt about that.

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” You said returning the hug.

“I brought some flowers, I remember you mentioning they’re your favorite.” He said as he let go of you, holding out the vibrant flowers.

“Eji, you shouldn’t have. They’re beautiful!” You said taking them from his hands. “Let me get a vase.”

“The food smells amazing, babe.” He said following you into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

“Tempura veggies for an appetizer, steak and rice for dinner, and a surprise for dessert.” You told him as you grabbed the clear glass vase out of the cupboard before filling it with water.

“That sounds so good, I can’t wait to eat. Do you need any help?” He asked looking around the kitchen.

“No, I’m almost done with everything. Actually, if you could open this bottle of wine, the glasses are on the table.” You said grabbing the bottle and the opener before handing it over to him.

“Of course.” He said taking the bottle.

It didn’t take long for you to finish up everything and plate it. You brought out the appetizer first before returning to the kitchen to grab the main dishes. You sat down across from your boyfriend at the table.

“Everything looks so good, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He said giving you that soft look that you loved so much from him.

“I could say the same.” You smiled at him and he returned it, a light blush on his cheeks.

“It tastes even better than it smells!” Kirishima exclaimed as he dug in, you smiled happy that he was enjoying to food. The last thing you wanted was to ruin the meal. You followed his actions and started eating.

After you finished up dinner you wanted to express how you felt, you knew you weren’t always the best at opening up but you needed Kirishima to know how much you cared about him.

“Eji I-”

“I wanted-”

You both spoke at the same time and stopped before bursting out in laughter.

“Sorry, you go ahead.” He said.

“No, you can go first.” You told him.

“No, I insist-”

This carried on far longer than necessary but eventually, you gave up, he thought it wasn’t manly for him to let you go after him. You knew he wouldn’t give up so you took a breath and prepared yourself to say what was on your mind.

“Ejirou, I really have enjoyed the past six months. I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time and it’s all because of you. I care about you so much and I need you to know how much that is. I know I don’t always say it out loud but I don’t want you to think that I’m not invested.” You tell him.

“Babe~ You may not always say it but it’s clear in your actions how much you care. But I appreciate you telling me, it makes me so happy. I feel the same way, I can’t imagine being with anyone other than you. You make me so happy, no matter where I am or what I’m doing your all I can think about.” He said the blush on his cheeks made your heart flutter. That genuine smile that showed off his sharp teeth made your heart melt. You loved Ejirou Kirishima, you weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud much less to him but it was true.

Kirishima reached into his pocket pulling out a jewelry box, you would have been nervous if it wasn’t bigger than a ring box. He slid the box over the table towards you.

“I wanted to get you something special, to show you how much you mean to me. It’s probably kind of cheesy but I hope you like it.” He said, he sounded so nervous.

You opened the box to reveal a necklace, it was beautiful. On a delicate chain hung a small piece of metal that had the date of your first date together in roman numerals. It was simple but elegant. Something you could wear anytime or anywhere and it would be subtle enough.

“Eji, this is so sweet.” You said looking up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

“Sweetie,” He said standing up, walking around the table to your side. He placed a hand on your cheek. “Just having you here with me tonight is enough. You made such an amazing meal for me that means so much to me.” He said.

Kirishima took the necklace from your hands, brushing your hair away from your neck he carefully put his arms around you so he could put the necklace on for you. His finger grazed the side of your neck sending a shiver through you as he secured the necklace. He brushed your hair back into place but not before placing a soft kiss on the back of your neck.

“Thank you, Eji.” You said, turning your head looking up at him so you could make eye contact. You reached, placing your hand on the back of his neck so you could pull him down into a kiss. You hummed against his lips, content. You were getting lost in the contact with Kirishima until you caught a burning smell.

“Oh my god, the cake.” You exclaimed pulling back from him. You stood up running into the kitchen. It was smoky as you opened the oven pulling out the pan with an oven mitt. You coughed at the disgusting smell. “Oh no.” You said pitifully.

Kirishima followed behind you, turning on the fan in the kitchen as he entered.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I was making you a triple chocolate cake for dessert but I forgot to set the timer.” You said sadly looking at the burnt cake.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He said standing next to you looking at it. You gave him a questioning look. There was nothing salvageable from the cake. Kirishima grabbed a fork off the counter stabbing it into the cake. It gave a loud crunch. He grabbed a bite of on the utensil before putting it in your mouth.

“Ejirou!” You exclaimed, staring at him in shock.

“It’s delicious, babe.” He said through loud crunches. His delivery was flawless, he didn’t even flinch at the burnt taste.

“What’s wrong with you?” You said staring at him like he was crazy.

“I’m not going to let something you worked hard on go to waste.” He said moving the fork to get another bite.

“No, stop. You’re crazy.” You shouted grabbing his arm and stopping him from attempting to eat more of the cake. “You're going to make yourself sick.”

“For you, I don’t mind.” He said trying to push back against you, you knew he was holding back. If he wanted to he could easily move you.

“Eji,” You said in a soft voice. He was too perfect. “Please, don’t. You're going to make me sick if you keep eating it.”

“Well, we don’t want that now do we?” He said giving you a playful smile. “I guess I won’t eat more but only for your sake.”

“You’re something else, Eji.” You said moving your hand to run through the back of his hair, where it was less gelled. He smiled at you and you leaned up to kiss him. “Gross, you taste like burnt cake.” You said leaning back from the kiss.

“Sorry.” He said through his laughter at your disgusted face. “You’re just going to have to deal with it though.”

Kirishima leaned down to press another kiss against your lips. You supposed you could put up with it for the sake of your perfect boyfriend.

#kirshima x reader #kirishima ejirou x reader #ejirou kirishima x reader #kirishima #kirishima ejirou #ejirou kirishima #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #x reader #domestic prompt event

316 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 107

Happy Tuesday, time for a new chapter!

Writing author’s notes three weeks in advance is hard, I am realizing. However I am reasonably sure if I wait to write this note, I will forget, because Tuesdays are insane at work.

So, quickly: shout out to @baelpenrose for being my beta, as always. Also, thank you to @charlylimph-blog and @zommbiebro, for the characters in this chapter.

I hope you all enjoy!!

I had to admit, as I laughed at Charly’s face when she stole a bite of my food, that Huynh - and therefore Jokul - had a point about eating in the cafeteria/mess regularly. Today, I had taken a page out of his book, and decided on my lunch based on what someone else was eating that looked good when I walked in. No matter how the dish ended up being, the smile on the face of a random stranger when I stopped and told them their food looked good, along with asking if I could get some from the console, made my day.

Which was good, because it was the oddest fish pie I had ever eaten. In general, I neither hated nor loved fish pie - I needed to either have a request or a craving to make it, usually. However, when I originally saw it as I entered the mess, I saw flaky crust, meat, veggies, and a creamy sauce and called it a winner. I don’t think Charly was expecting seafood in general when she took a bite, and I certainly hadn’t been expecting scallops, even knowing I had gotten fish pie.

“That’s… that’s fish!” she sputtered, glaring at me in betrayal.

“It’s actually scallops,” I corrected, no less perplexed for that fact. “I was expecting mackerel and cod, or haddock. That’s what Conor always asks me to make, anyway.”

“But it’s fish,” she insisted. “I thought it would be chicken.”

“It’s not bad,” I admitted, taking another bite. “Just caught me off guard.”

Shaking her head and scowling, she got up to get her own food, returning with an actual chicken pot pie. Just as she was hooking her arm around it protectively - either protecting it from me or from my lunch, who knew - a pillar of grey and silver stalked up to the table before plopping down miserably.

Now holding her pie over her head - to avoid being flanked? - Charly stared down, eyes wide. “Mr. Bjornson?” she asked, bewildered.

Craning my neck, I realized she had a point, although the hair was somewhat dishevelled and the robes were wrinkled beyond anything I had seen him wearing previously. Not even Conor or I would wear clothes that creased, honestly. Hesitantly, I poked at him. “Did you just decide to die in front of my food?” I asked, skeptical. “Last time you interrupted my lunch, you were being kidnapped.”

Alarmingly, Jokul sat up, eyes red, sniffling back tears. “He won’t talk to me…”

Both Charly and I jerked back, surprised. Recovering faster, I carefully ventured a question. “You mean Ivan?”

Rather than answer out loud, Jokul gave a bigger sniff and nodded emphatically.

I was so not prepared to have this conversation, but I tried anyway. “Is everything… I guess, okay, for lack of a better term?”

“He works so much,” came the plaintive response. “He’s so tired all the time, and I’m trying to adjust to everyone looking at me funny and…” He stopped, tears rolling again, biting his lip in what looked like an effort to gain control.

“And?” Charly asked, setting her lunch down and carefully reaching to put a hand on his forearm.

“AndIdonthaveanyoneelsetotalktonowbecauseIrealizedIdontactuallyhaveany friennnnnnnds,” he blurted out quietly, the last part on a barely-constrained sob. I had to give him credit for trying to draw as little attention as possible while talking about something that was clearly a difficult subject.

“Oh, that’s bullshit,” Charly sighed softly, shaking her head. “Right, Sophia?”

I rocked my head a bit, thinking about it. “I mean…. I don’t know about friends, per se - “ Charly glared and kicked me hard enough to drive the breath out of me. “Hey! Cut me some slack?”

“I’m the one who got the punch,” she scolded, stroking his hair and carefully detangling it.

Fair. “Earning friendships may take some time,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to anyone about what’s going on, you know.”

“Who, Councillor?” he demanded sadly. “Who do I have to talk to?”

“Well, you clearly thought I was a good idea - Ow, Charly!” Rubbing my shin, I continued. “Like I was saying, though. It kind of depends on what it is you want to talk about. If it’s struggling to come back from a negative public image… Simon, hands down, is the best person for that.”

Thankfully, Jokul went from looking despondent to confused. “Simon Rodriguez?”

Charly and I both nodded hard enough to pop our necks. “He was a complete ass when I boarded. I actually tried to kill him, and so did Tyche. He can tell you the details, but in the end, he made the effort to be a better neighbor, and now he’s an amazing educator whose students adore him.”

“Arthur Farro was a warlord, however,” Jokul tried to object. “Would he not be a better source of insight?”

“Absolutely not,” Charly responded before I could draw a breath, shooting the idea down instantly. “Mr. Farro doesn’t care what other people think of him, beyond making sure they aren’t trying to kill him too actively. He adheres to social etiquette in most cases, but it’s not for his own sake, more for the sake of those associated with him. Does he care if he’s trustworthy? Absolutely. Likeable…...” She winced as she trailed off, hand tipping in an ‘eh’ gesture.

“Which is why he wasn’t bothered in the least when you wanted a fight,” I pointed out, trying to draw the points together. “Whereas Simon didn’t realize how poorly people thought of him, and as soon as he did, he took steps to change it, even when it was hard. So definitely start there if you need guidance.”

“I will endeavor to do so,” Jokul nodded before his expression dropped again. “But what about Ivan?”

“There is nothing about him being tired that makes his ears malfunction,” I heard myself say. What? Why? Why was I doing this? “No matter how tired I am, my ear still works, and I can still listen to Conor and Maverick about their days. And sometimes that’s all that’s needed. Mutual bitching about a bad day is… pretty normal, actual.”

He sat up, paling, with a horrified expression on his face. “Oh dear gods, how do you manage two?!”

Charly and I traded glances of confusion before looking back at the distraught man who was slowly inching fingers toward my fish pie. I nodded to Charly, who wrinkled her nose and got up to grab him some food, while I addressed the former cult leader. “It’s usually easier than just one,” I confessed. “If one of us is too tired or sick, there’s always someone who can pinch hit.” I wasn’t about to admit that it was also made easier by the massive family I had acquired during my time on the Ark. That was the last thing he needed to hear. Softening slightly, I tilted my head and placed my hand on his arm. “Jokul, do you really not have any friends, anymore? What about… the ginger kid. I never got his name.”

“William,” Jokul spat with more force than I had seen since the day we met, catching me completely off guard. “A sycophant. He almost immediately asked what my plans were to continue forward with ‘our plans’.” The air quotes were a nice touch, but his face was nothing but sour. “I had to report him to Councillor Kalloe,” he confessed, face falling into a frown.

“Oh, wow,” I murmured. “Okay then. We need to figure out how you can meet other people, I think.” I was barely able to resist the urge to hit myself in the face. We? Why was this a we thing all of a sudden?

Thankfully, Charly came back, nose wrinkled at a second portion of fish pie. As Jokul dug into it, she perked up slightly. “The Undine! They have cultural events all the time! And! Andandandandand,” she started bouncing in her seat with each syllable. “Ivan loves those events. Not only does he drum up a lot of work, but he also loves meeting new people! You can do a date thing!”

That was, by far, the most harmless suggestion Charly could have made, and I made a mental note to send her a candy-basket at some point. “Plus, if Ivan is there, Zach and Hannah should be, too. You met them, right?”

“Did I?”

I managed not to roll my eyes as I reminded him. “The couple that were talking to Ivan the day you, um… met him?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “He mentioned they were friends of his!”

“Lord bless it,” I laughed. “Those two are probably his closest friends, honestly. So, something like that would be both a chance to make friends and something you can do with Ivan!” And something that does not require me to adopt someone who recently did his best to be a pain in my ass.

“And you said I can still just… talk, to Ivan, when he’s too tired to do anything else?”

“Yes?” I confirmed, slightly bewildered. “He still cares, I would think. Keep in mind, he does manual labor for a living, by choice. If he’s too tired to move, he is probably physically incapable of moving. It would be like Conor coming home, showering, and flopping on the couch. Good luck moving him, just grab him a pillow and blanket.”

Jokul arched an eyebrow at me, recovering something resembling his former ego. “I am quite capable of carrying Ivan to a proper bed, thank you.” His face abruptly softened. “I’m just new at… this…” he waved his hand vaguely. “Relationships, during a time of peace, I suppose.”

Huh. That never occurred to me, actually. “Hang on,” I thought out loud. “Have you had any portion of this conversation,” I frantically pointed between the three of us, “with Ivan?”

“Not.. yet?” came the sheepish response.

“Sir!” I sputtered. “If you do not go home right now - take your pie with you! - and talk to your poor…. Partner, boyfriend, whatever. If you don’t talk to Ivan, I will give Arthur permission to re-administer the ass-whooping and deal with Ivan later over it!”

Rather than being offended, Jokul seemed to take the admonishment for what it was, and dashed off. Charly, breathless with laughter, managed to recover just enough to give me the stink eye. “Did you just give solid advice to your adversary?”

“I won! Sort of,” I argued. “Besides, anyone that upset about a romantic relationship deserves some kind of slack, right?”

“Were you really going to sic Mr. Farro on him?”

I groaned, burying my head in my hands. “The less he knows about this entire interaction, the better. I’ll never hear the end of it.” And then, just as if my day could not possibly get any better, I heard a familiar, dry voice snark from behind me.

“The less I know about what the better?”

Oh, hell.

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #found family #found family tropes #humans are space orcs #fiction #original fiction #earth is space australia #hfy #humans are space fae #humans baffle aliens #humans are crazy #movies #cuddles #popcorn

59 notes · View notes