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spacedikut · 4 years ago

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“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls�� on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

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radiorenjun · 4 years ago

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kitchen frolics || lee jeno

➶ pairing: lee jeno x reader

➶ genre: fluff, crack, romance, twitch streamer!au, (slight)YouTuber!au, non idol!au, college!au, established relationship

➶ word count: 14.8k

➶ synopsis: you and your boyfriend, Jeno, decided to do a Christmas cooking live stream on twitch with no cooking experience whatsoever. It's safe to say you two were just two loud, idiotic simps obnoxiously trying to cook with 6k people tells you say to do.

➶ warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, absolute clownery, jeno being a funny boyfriend, inaccurate recipe I found online, y/n accidentally inhaled yeast?

“Babe!” Jeno shouted, adjusting the camera in front of him before checking his phone for the time. “I’m coming! I’m coming hold up! You can start without me for a bit!” you exclaimed from the bathroom, finishing the final touches of your makeup.

“Alright then!” he responded, opening the live stream on his twitch account. Typing ‘Kitchen Frolics’ as the name of the live stream before pressing the spacebar to start the live with a click of his tongue. He waited and started staring at the screen as he watched the view count increase on the screen in a matter of a few seconds.

He let out a charming smile as the chat started flooding with greetings and calls of his name in caps lock or a large amount of emojis. “Hey everyone!” He greeted, leaning back and away from the camera so that his viewers could see his whole form as he clapped his hands together enthusiastically.

“It’s lovely to see you all on this lovely day!” he grinned, rubbing his hands together before pausing for a small moment to replay his words. “Fuck, did I just say ‘lovely’ twice?” he laughed lightly to himself.

Jeno leaned his arm on the counter beside the laptop, taking a moment to make sure he was still in the camera’s view before leaning his head down to read the comments flooding through the chat box. “‘Jeno, you look so tall’,” he read, squinting his eyes to read the small text on the corner of his screen.

“Oh, well thank you. I’m on my journey of being taller than Jisung,” he joked, looking around bashfully to cover up how flustered he felt at reading the comment. He examined the clean kitchen counter and adjusted the camera he set up so it can record his hands mixing like in those Tasty cooking videos on youtube.

“Anyways, not many of you know this. But I am an extremely talented cook. I’m a professional chef! Like, my cooking skill is at a professional level, okay? Gordon Ramsay complimented on my cooking skills multiple times in my dms, the man practically looks up to me,” Jeno said in an exaggerated tone, picking up an opened can of coke and pulling it to his lips. “So, me and y/n were bored and we decided to do a live stream today,” Jeno clears his throat, putting the can down on the counter behind him.

“So today, we’re going to cook! Using the finest ingredients and the finest cooking utensils that I could gather from my kitchen,” Jeno then grabbed a large wooden spoon behind him, waving it from the camera with a proud expression on his face. He chuckled when his eyes scanned the chat for a moment, people commenting random emojis and sarcastic replies rapidly filling the chat box. “What? You guys don’t believe me? The audacity!” Jeno placed a hand on his heart, pouting like a wounded puppy.

“Stop being so dramatic. Quite frankly, even I don’t believe you.” You snickered, walking into the kitchen as you tied the white apron around your waist. “Hello to everyone in the chat!” you waved at the camera eagerly, watching as people spam the chat box with your name. “You’re so mean. You know very well my cooking expertise is very much immaculate,” Jeno whined, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed his body to your side, jutting his bottom lip.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you pushed your boyfriend’s face away with your palm. “You’re such a crybaby. No PDA in the livestream, you simp.” You laughed, pinching both of his cheeks as he glared at you, brows furrowed cutely. “Whatever,” Jeno rolled his eyes at you, retracting his arms from your waist to look back at the camera, attempting to conceal the blush on the tips of his ears and cheeks when his eyes darted to the chat box on his laptop screen which was practically filled with people gushing how cute you two were.

“Anyways, what are we doing today my love?” You asked, as if he hadn’t told you this a couple hours before you started the live stream. You leaned your elbow against his shoulder, letting your arm limp over his chest casually as you stared at the camera with a wide smile. “We’re cooking today, Y/n!” Jeno smiled at the camera, placing his arm back around your waist. “And what are we cooking exactly, Jen?” you asked again, not tearing your eyes away from the camera lense.

“Since it’s going to be Christmas very soon, I decided that we should cook something that could fit the occasion,” Jeno exclaimed, watching as people spammed the chat box with guesses of food relating to the holiday. “Which is?” you mused, stretching out the vowels to tease your viewers a bit. You watched as the view count increased with every passing minute. “Pizza!” He cheered, giving the camera enthusiastic jazz hands, ignoring how his words made you furrow your brows, feeling equally as confused as the viewers.

“Wait what? I thought we were making those chocolate balls on tik tok?” you furrowed your brows pulling away from your boyfriend to glare at him with a perplexed expression. “Yeah, we were. But then, I realise we got to add some spice to this live stream and some originality,” Jeno grinned mischievously, causing you to pucker your lips in disappointment. “But, how is pizza even related to Christmas?” you asked once again. “Because I said so,” your boyfriend stuck his tongue out teasingly.

You let out a dramatic sigh, looking down at your cat slippers before letting out loud sniffles to show how distraught you were over the sudden change of plans. “Aw, man. I was hoping to make some hot chocolate. Can I get an F in the chat for the chocolate balls we’ve never had?” you exclaimed dramatically, putting a hand on your chest and raising the other as if you were making some sort of pledge as you looked at the chat box, watching as it blew up with a bunch of Fs.

“Thank you, everyone,” you wiped an invisible tear from your cheek, ignoring your boyfriend who rolled his eyes at your dramatic actions. “Shut up, babe. Anyways, before we waste any time, let’s get started!” Jeno rubbed his hands together, picking up a piece of paper in his hands which was a hand written recipe he probably found online. “I got the recipe from some random website, I’ll send the link to the recipe in the discord chat after the stream if you guys want,” he said, showing you the recipe in his hands.

“Well, this is going to get really messy. Are you sure Jaemin won’t mind us trashing the kitchen?” you asked, looking up at him with a raised brow. Jaemin was Jeno’s roommate who was an excellent cook. You couldn’t even count how many times he would kick you out of the kitchen to prevent you from eating any snacks whenever he was cooking something. Therefore, he definitely wouldn’t hesitate to ban the two of you from the kitchen if you make a huge mess.

“Oh come on, Jaemin is in his room editing his latest video. Even if we do manage to make a huge mess, we should be able to clean up before he finishes. What’s the worst thing that could happen, really?” Jeno chuckled, shrugging simply.

“YANGYANGsImp has donated $4! Says ‘Famous last words’” the speech bot said monotonously.

You let out a loud laugh, clapping your hands. “We’ll see, then” Jeno huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, how do we get started on the pizza dough?” he asked, leaning over you to look at the laptop screen. You furrowed your brows once again, turning your head to your boyfriend to give him a deadpan expression. “We have instructions! Why are you asking them?” you asked with a laugh, causing Jeno to snicker.

“Listen, I only have the recipe written down. Not the whole ass instructions, I’m too lazy to do that.” Jeno waved it off, eyeing the chat carefully to see if anyone has given you information. “This isn’t a handwritten essay, Jeno. We have a printer,” you chuckled. “Hush, y/n,” he puts a finger to your lips, silencing you in an instant which makes you sigh heavily. “Okay, so. It says here that we need to boil some water,” he read, getting a large cup from the dispenser.

“I love how you didn’t hesitate to fill up a random cup with water just because someone told you to,” you snickered, looking at the camera with a hand on your hip before going back to read the comments in the chat. “Are you sure that’s even remotely correct?” you asked, turning to see Jeno coming towards you with a jug of warm water in his hands. “Beats me. Y/n, come help me pour the water to this huge ass cup,” Jeno ordered, earning a nod from you as you pulled out a large cup from the cupboard and watched as Jeno poured some water into it.

Jeno was a little bit clumsy so it was safe to say he spilled more than ‘a little’ water.

“Shit! It got on the fucking notes!” your boyfriend cursed, pulling away to put the jug back in the sink, ignoring your laughs as you waved your hand in front of the slightly wet paper in an attempt to dry it. “How did that even happen?” you giggled, blowing on the piece of paper as the chat started calling Jeno ‘an adorable klutz’. “Ah, shit.” Jeno wiped his hands against the fabric of his sweatpants. “They say it’s supposed to be two cups. That’s about the size of two cups right?” he asked, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up his arms.

“I don’t know. Suddenly I’m Jared,19.” you joked, earning a soft flick to your forehead. “Dumbass. Jared 19 can’t read, not count.” he snickered, picking up the notes from your hand, cringing at the feeling of the wet paper in between his fingers. “Okay so, it says here that we should add a tablespoon of sugar.” he read aloud, pointing at the paper to show you and then proceeding to show the camera his notes.

“I didn’t know pizza had sugar in it,” you mumbled, walking over to the drawers to find the measuring tools. “I guess we learn something new everyday,” Jeno shrugged, watching you bring over some measuring spoons and lay them on the counter in front of the camera. “Wait, so which is which?” you asked, picking up the measuring spoons that were stuck together. “A tablespoon is for eating right? Just pick the one you usually use to eat,” Jeno shrugged, looking through the chat box.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten with such spherical spoons before, Jeno,” you commented with a small giggle. Jeno sighed, grabbing the measuring tools from your grasp to examine them himself. “This just proves my point even more. I have immaculate cooking skills, indeed,” he boasted, pulling out what seems to be the biggest measuring tool you had given him. You furrowed your brows at this, “wait, are you sure that’s a tablespoon?” you asked.

“Well it has a number one in the middle here,” Jeno pointed at the inner part of the measuring tool, showing you the small number printed on the plastic. “That seems like a lot for a table spoon,” you mumbled watching as Jeno shook the powdery substance into the measuring tool. “I didn’t know pizza had this much sugar,” you added on. “You didn’t know pizza had sugar to begin with, y/n,” Jeno deadpanned, walking over to the cup of warm water.

Before he could pour it, your eyes wandered to the screen of your laptop only to widen your eyes at the amount of people telling you to stop. “Wait, Jeno. Why are they saying stop?” you exclaim, putting a hand on his arm to halt him from doing anything else. Jeno let out a noise of confusion, turning his head to the screen as well as he furrowed his brows to read the small text. “Wait, what’s going on? What did we do wrong? Why is everybody telling us to stop?” Jeno asked, eyes scanning the chat room to see if anyone was pointing out what you were doing wrong.

“Listen, you guys aren’t the one risking your lives sneaking into Jaemin’s territory here okay? You’re not the one putting your lives on the line just to cook a pizza,” Jeno huffed, waving a wooden spoon at the camera with a pouting frown on his lips as you scanned through the chat box. “This is a very futile attempt of being the next Gordon Ramsay,” Jeno laughed, turning his head at you.

Then it hits you like a truck.

“Jeno! I swear we’re absolute fucking morons. That is not a tablespoon,” you let out a loud laugh, taking the other measuring spoons into your hands as Jeno let out a small ‘oh’, laughing along with you. “Wait a sec, is this a cup?” he exclaimed, finally realising his mistake as he examined the measuring tool which he had now placed on the counter in front of you. “Oh shit, it is a cup! Whoopsie! Our bad! Our bad!” you laughed, showing him an actual tablespoon which was about 4 times smaller than the cup. You both started laughing at your own stupidity, putting a tablespoon of sugar into the warm water.

“Wait, let’s add a little more,” you grinned, picking up an eighth of a tablespoon of sugar and dunking it in with no hesitation. “Babe, no don’t-” Jeno wasn’t able to stop you before dumping the sugar into the water. “We’re going to have really sweet pizza, huh?” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he let out a soft laugh.

“Sweet like you,” you winked, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes at you. “What did you say about the no PDA on live streams, again?” Jeno’s lips quirked up into a small smirk before shaking his head profusely at you. “Alright dumbass, let’s just keep going with this.” you both snickered at each other before stirring the sugar until it dissolves.

“Okay, what’s next-” Jeno clicked his tongue, leaning to the screen of your laptop before you decided to cut him off. “Jeno.” you called out, seeming lost in thought. “Yeah?” he hummed, turning to you for a split second before scanning his eyes through the chat box. “Babe, have you washed your hands?” you asked in a rather hesitant voice, turning to him slowly and eerily. Jeno opened his mouth to respond before furrowing his brows in thought as if to say ‘did I?’

He let out a loud dramatic gasp before turning to the sink. “Shit, right! Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” he rambled in a panicked tone, eliciting another laugh from you as you watch him frantically wash his hands. The chat box was soon filled with Jeno’s name in caps lock, either laughing or clowning at him for saying how he was ‘a professional chef’ but he still forgot to wash his hands. “Oh my god, so all this time you’ve been touching these ingredients with your filthy hands,” you wheezed, hitting the counter as you laughed. “And to think that this global pandemic was actually going to teach us the importance of washing our hands,” you laughed even harder.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m sorry. My hands are squeaky clean now! I swear I have not contaminated the water with my hands!” Jeno laughs, wiping his hands against the fabric of his black hoodie, pushing his glasses up to his nose before showing his slightly wet hand. “I assure you, Jeno’s restaurant is cleaner than my reputation!” Jeno puts his hands together as an apology, staring at the camera with his puppy dog eyes. “Great hygiene comes with great pizza,” you snickered, earning a death glare from the taller boy standing beside you, his lips forming an angry pout.

“Watch me get cancelled for forgetting to wash my hands,” Jeno puts his hand on his hip, chuckling at you. “Rest in peace your reputation, then. May covid-19 graciously carry you to the afterlife,” you waved him off without batting an eye, laughing hard after a few seconds of silence. “Go away,” Jeno snorted, pushing you out of the camera view gently as you both giggled.

“Jeno, we just started and you can already see how terrible this is going,” you commented with a soft snort. Jeno let out a light laugh of his own as he walked away to grab the yeast from the cabinet. “I think this wouldn’t be so bad if my girlfriend was actually helping!” he retorted, closing the door with an accusatory finger at you. “Hey, I’m actually helping!” you exclaimed with wide eyes before looking at the ingredient list he wrote. “Look! Two tablespoons of yeast! I’m definitely helping. Right, chat?” you turned to the camera with a proud grin, only to be faced with a bunch of ‘no’s or ‘whatever you say, y/n.’

“I love how they’re agreeing with me,” he snickered, pointing at the laptop screen. “Lovethe90s has donated $2! Says ‘y/n, we love you but so far, you’ve just been laughing at Jeno’,” the speech bot said, causing Jeno to laugh even more as he watched your jaw drop to the floor. “I love how none of you are taking my side. This is clearly favoritism,” you commented with a sad nod before feeling Jeno wrap an arm around your waist lovingly.

“It’s okay, boo. You’re still my girlfriend, no matter how unhelpful you are.” Jeno giggled, nuzzling his head against yours as you frowned at the camera. “That’s good to know,” you mumbled before smacking him on the chest and pushing him off of you. “Anyways, where were we?” Jeno rolled his eyes at you, opening the packet of yeast in his hands. “So two tablespoons of this?” he asked, looking up at you for confirmation.

“That’s what your ingredient list says,” you shrugged, showing him the now crumpled paper. He furrowed his brows, adjusting his glasses before shrugging. “Two tablespoons of yeast it is, then,” he chuckled, handing you the yeast and watching you scoop out the powdery substance into the large cup. You coughed, scrunching your face before turning away from the camera. “Oh fuck, I think I accidentally inhaled it,” you groaned, ignoring your laughing boyfriend as you went out of the camera view to grab yourself a glass of water.

“You okay, babe?” Jeno called out, turning his head to look at you with slight concern. You coughed, feeling the sting up your nose as you walked back into the camera with teary eyes, groaning as Jeno continued to laugh at your suffering. “Next is… Mixing!” Jeno exclaimed, ignoring how you continued your coughing fit behind him. “Babe, can you hand me something to mix?” he turned to you, watching you glare at him with the most angriest look you could muster.

“Fine,” you croaked, opening the drawer in front of you before taking out a wooden spatula and handing it to him. “Thank you!” he squeaked, grabbing the spatula from you oh-so-casually before stirring the mixture in the cup. “Now, we’re going to mix all this up until it’s thoroughly combined and incorporated,” Jeno exclaimed as you finally walked over to him, watching as your silly boyfriend continued to stir the yeast with (supposedly Jaemin’s favourite) wooden spatula.

“Just a word of warning, we’re definitely going to get banned from the kitchen if Jaemin ever decides to come out of his room at the time of this live stream,” you commented casually, leaning your elbow on his shoulder and leaning your head against him as you watched the chat box erupt with laughs and internet slangs. Jeno gulped, nodding with a nervous chuckle. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m being Gordon Ramsay Junior here, y/n. Can’t you be more supportive for your loving boyfriend?” he pouted.

“I would if you didn’t laugh at my misery all the damn time,” you shot back, your free hand reaching out to pinch his cheeks gingerly. He huffed, rolling his eyes at you as he shook your hand away. “You know I still love you,” you grinned, turning your head so you can stare deeply into his dark eyes. He paused his stirring, mirroring your actions as he turned his head to gaze into your eyes and your lips. “Yes, yes I do,” he nodded, pressing a small kiss on your nose before pulling the spatula out of the cup.

“When Nicki Minaj said ‘yes, I do the cooking. Yes, I do the cleaning,’ I swear this isn’t what you think,” Jeno mumbled under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh. “Stop! Oh my god, we’re never going to finish this,” you wheezed, moving the cup away to let the yeast sit for a bit. “Wait, let me pour the sugar back into the container, you can rest for a bit,” you snickered, grabbing the container filled with sugar and the previous cup you used.

“Okay, don’t spill anything, love!” Jeno cooed, leaning against the counter and sipping his can of coke as he continued reading the comments with the occasional speech bot speaking whenever someone donated or subscribed to your stream. “‘Can you add pineapple on pizza?’” he read aloud, furrowing his brows in concern before looking at the camera. “Not to shit on your taste in pizzas, but what the fuck?” he cocked his head to the side to look at you slowly pouring sugar from the cup into the small opening of the container.

“I’m seriously concerned, right now,” you joked, closing the container once you got the sugar back in. “Great, now. We just need a bowl to mix our dough in,” you said, opening the dish racks to see if there were any clean bowls left. Jeno and Jaemin were two broke college students, just like you, so it didn’t surprise you much if you found that all the bowls were either still in the dishwasher or hidden somewhere in their rooms as they usually spent hours on their desks playing games while eating ramen on days end.

“Jeno, do you have any bowls left?” you asked, looking up at the male. “All there’s left here is a strainer. Also, why do you have a strainer?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, making Jeno click his tongue in thought. He opened his mouth to respond before closing it shut. “I’ll ask Jaemin if there’s any bowls left,” he mumbled, eliciting another light hearted laugh from you as he walked out of the camera to call out Jaemin’s name.

“HasbeenTaeil has donated $6.46! Says ‘You two are so adorable my single ass can’t- Love you both! Stay safe!’

You look up at the camera with a bashful smile. “Aw, thanks. You guys are cute too!” you exclaimed, spreading your arms open to give your fans (the camera) a hug. “Thank you all for the donations, by the way. We are always so grateful to everyone who subscribed and donated, you guys are seriously the best!” you smiled widely, watching as the viewer count increased to 6k. “I can’t believe 6 thousand people are watching Jeno and I attempt to make a pizza from scratch,” you commented with a proud grin.

“Okay so I asked Jaemin,” Jeno came back, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie as he walked into the camera’s view. “And he said he doesn’t know either,” he grinned nervously, causing you to roll your eyes. “Oh my god, how are we going to make the dough without getting things messy now?” you groaned, scanning through the kitchen to find an alternative.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Right, chat-”

“Wait a minute-never mind!” your bo.yfriend laughed, pulling out a bowl behind the camera on the counter. “It was behind the camera all along, shit!” he wheezed, taking a step back to take in how idiotic the two of you are. “Damn, we really need to check our eyes,” you snickered, rubbing your temples as you suppressed the urge to facepalm. “This just shows how perfect we are for each other,” you added, earning a cough from Jeno.

As soon as you said that, the chat box was instantly filled with people commenting on how much of a simp you are. The worst part was that most of them were in caps lock, which made things even more hilarious. “Awe, y/n really be simping for me on a live stream. Someone play ‘Feel Special’ by Twice,” Jeno cooed, giving you a smug expression before earning a smack on the back from you. “Shut up! You’re a simp for me as well!” smacking him lightly with each word as he let out a small chuckle.

“I can’t deny that,” Jeno winked. You gaped at how bold your boyfriend was being. “You did not just ruin the fantasies of the people who wrote fanfiction about you!” you laughed, watching as the chat box erupted with comments of people saying how much you were whipped for each other. “Wattpad territory was terrifying. I swear, if you search my name up on that specific website. Most of them are like 18+. And I don’t know how I feel about that,” Jeno shook his head with a joking smile, bringing the flour to the counter.

“Oh come on. You were basically fangirling when we did that stream of reading fanfictions about each other,” you smirked at him, nudging his side softly as he opened the packet of flour. “That’s because it was about you and me! Despite how angsty it was, it was still very much intriguing. Plus, they basically gave me ideas on what to do on our next date, it’s a win-win situation!” Jeno retorted with an incredulous laugh.

“And that ladies and gentlemen, is the evidence I need to prove that our Jeno here, read fanfictions about me! A.K.A his precious girlfriend, let’s give him a round of applause!” you clapped your hands while shaking your head, watching as Jeno glared at you with a raised brow, his eyes darting at the chat box who were still calling him out for being a major simp. “This is misleading information, I should sue you,” Jeno said rather monotonously. But you all knew he was just joking.

“You can’t sue the person you simp for, Jeno-”

“Winderellaprincess has donated $3! Says ‘is this a cooking show or a battle of two simps? I mean- I’m not complaining’”

“Oh shit!” you both cursed in unison. “I totally forgot we were cooking, oh fuck!” you laughed, clapping your hands. “We really are simps,” Jeno teased, making the two of you laugh even more. “Go away!” you mused as you picked up the handwritten paper Jeno wrote. “Okay, so, your paper says that we need three cups of flour,” you read aloud, tossing the paper back on the counter. “Three cups?” Jeno asked, picking up the cup you both previously used for the sugar.

“A half of the packet looks like three cups to me-”

“Jeno, no, I still want to be able to walk into this kitchen without Jaemin whacking my head with a pan,” you shook your head, grabbing the packet from him and leaning it to the side. “Fine, I’ll just hold the cup,” Jeno giggled as you both continued to use the measuring cup to pour in the flour into the bowl. “Oh fuck! Shit, sorry!” you laughed after spilling a bit of flour onto the counter and some onto the floor. You both wheezed as you took a few steps back to compose yourselves.

“I fucking swear, we’re never cooking together ever again,” you shook your head, standing weakly as you tried to stop laughing.

“Kwangyaman has donated $2! Says ‘now I see why Jaemin doesn’t allow ya’ll to step foot into the kitchen’”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you wiped a tear from your eye as you tried to keep yourself from laughing too hard. “My stomach hurts from laughing,” Jeno scrunches his face cutely, showing his crescent moon-shaped eyes as he continues to laugh. “I told you we should just dump half of the packet in!” he exclaimed, dropping the packet of flour on the counter carelessly as he examined the mess you made. “Oh god, Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us!”

“itsjunrenhuang has donated $4.99! Says ‘we stan Gordon Ramsay’s walmart children’”

“We appreciate the compliment,” you snorted, waving your hand off as you tried to dust off the flour to the floor, inevitably covering your slippers in the process. “It’s the genes,” Jeno added with a soft laugh. “Shawn Mendes once said ‘it isn’t in my blood’ and Jeno clearly ignored him,” you teased, looking back at the handwritten paper on the counter. “I swear, if this doesn’t taste good. I’m just going to buy a personal chef,” you muttered under your breath, wiping the flour on your apron.

“You’re talking as if you could afford one,” Jeno shot back, earning a small huff from you. “Just so you all know, thank you so much for donating. We’ll read through all the donations after the live stream. The donations will be spent on this magnificent restaurant!” he exclaimed with his hands on his hips, moving to read the comments. “Alright, mister. Let’s get back to cooking before our real personal chef gets out of his natural habitat,” you patted Jeno’s shoulder, leaning over to look at the recipe with him.

“‘Three quarters of a tablespoon of salt’,” he read before reaching up to open the cupboard to find some salt. “I swear, we still have some salt leftover,” he mumbled, causing your eyes to go wide at his statement. “Imagine if you ran out though?” you mused, raising a brow as you turned to face the camera. “Shut up, I found it,” Jeno pulled the container half filled with salt from the cupboard and twisted the lid open with a small grunt before handing the container to you.

“Okay, three quarters of a tablespoon-” you stuck your tongue out in concentration as you dipped the tablespoon in and eyeballed it. “That’s about three quarters, right?” you showed your boyfriend the spoon who narrowed his eyes at it before nodding simply. “Yeah, I think so.” he nodded at you, giving you a soft shrug as you frowned. “By the way if you guys are wondering what salt we’re using. It’s the uh-” you turned the container of salt in your hands and furrowed your brows to read the label.

“You’re saying that as if they don’t have salt at home,” Jeno snickered. “Really shows how much you love salty foods,” he poked your cheek as you let out a frustrated huff. “Hey, at least I have some spice in my life!” you retorted with a shuddering laugh, raising the container of salt as if you were aiming to hit him. “Anyways we’re using Kosher salt,” you grinned at the camera, showing the salt container as if it wasn’t a famous local brand.

“moonhannah just donated $5! Says ‘who let these adorable babies in the kitchen? This is all so chaotic’”

You and Jeno looked up at the camera at this, brows furrowed as you stared back at the camera with offended expressions. “We’re grown adults!” you both whined in unison before turning back to the dough without a second thought. “Hey chat, do you guys think we should add more flour? This doesn’t look enough,” you asked, putting the bowl under the camera on the counter, making sure that your viewers could see it.

“Again, you should’ve listened to me and added half of the packet,” Jeno huffed, waddling over to you with the packet of flour in his hands. “But doesn’t half seem a bit too much?” your eyebrows quirked up slightly at him. “Once again, we need originality and creativity, love.” Jeno shrugged, finishing his coke before tossing it to the trash can and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before putting a bit more flour into the bowl.

“Hakuna Matata,” you chuckled, earning a loud yell from your boyfriend. “Stop! We’re going to get fucking copyrighted!” Jeno laughed, picking up the wooden spatula on the counter to wave it in front of your face. “A sexy lawsuit from Disney,” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly as Jeno choked on his own spit. “Why am I dating you again?” he coughed, stifling a laugh.

“Next!” you exclaimed, peering your eyes at the paper on the counter once again. “Virgin oil,” you read aloud before turning to Jeno who was opening a new can of coke from the fridge. “Excuse me, what?” Jeno coughed, adjusting to the tingly sparks on his tongue as he drank. “Virgin oil,” you repeated with the same casual tone before Jeno furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Do we even have that?” Jeno mumbled to himself.

“Jeno, this is your kitchen! How do you not know?” you said incredulously, putting a hand on your hip and your other hand on the counter. He coughed, giving you an innocent eye smile before opening cabinets to see if he actually does have some virgin oil stored somewhere. “Shut up, Jaemin is usually the only one who actually does the grocery shopping around here. I don’t know shit about the kitchen!” Jeno laughed, ignoring the speech bot’s monotonous voice as people started flooding the chat box with how chaotic this was.

“Gordon Ramsay genes, huh?” you mused with a smirk on your lips. “Shut up, I found it, dumbass,” he stuck his tongue out childishly at you before grabbing the tablespoon you were using previously. “Okay, so three tablespoons of virgin oil?” he asked, turning his head at the paper in your hands, receiving a silent nod from you. “You better not poke me or anything unless you want a very oily pizza, y/n,” he chuckled, twisting the bottle open as he spoke.

You scoffed incredulously. “Wouldn’t think of it,” you said in a sardonic tone as you watched Jeno carefully pour in about three tablespoons of oil. “Now, we add the yeast right?” you asked, picking up the cup that has been sitting on the side for a while, sniffing it before cringing and holding back a gag. “Oh god, that fucking stinks,” you croaked, breathing from your mouth as you try to get the smell out of your mind.

“Why did you smell it?” Jeno chuckled, taking the jug away from you as you coughed. “Curiosity killed the cat, Jeno,” you stated as you came up to see that Jeno had formed a hollow space in the middle of the bowl with the flour and poured the oil in the middle to make it seem like some sort of small puddle. “So, do we like- mix it first or add the yeast first then mix it?” you asked with a cock of your eyebrow.

“I think we add the yeast first,” Jeno said in a more questioning tone than a statement. “Are you sure?” you asked, turning to your boyfriend who scratched his head in confusion. “Nope, that’s why you’re going to do it,” he handed you back the jug with a cheeky grin, putting his hands in his pockets as if you were going to shove it back to him. You raised your brows in surprise, “me? Why me?” you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh.

“Because, I’ve been doing this myself. It’s your turn now,” he grinned, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. You glared at him intensely, mumbling small incoherent swears under your breath as you started to pour the yeast little by little, cringing at the foul smell. “So we just start mixing, just like that?” you asked as you put the cup back down on the corner of the counter. Jeno hummed in confirmation, opening the fridge to fetch out three cookies.

He shoved one into his mouth before handing you the spatula he used for mixing the yeast earlier. “Just mix it all up until it's fully incorporated,” Jeno nodded, putting a cookie in front of your mouth as an offering. You furrowed your brows, leaning back to examine the cookie in his hands before biting down with a small ‘nom!’.

“Does this count as vegan pizza?” you asked, looking up at Jeno before you scraped the sides of the bowl to get more flour into the mixture. “Huh?” Jeno responded with a perplexed expression. “What do you mean?” he asked. “The yeast. It’s like tofu-based yeast, I think,” you cocked your head to the side to gesture at the packaging. “But, we’re going to put cheese and pepperoni on the pizza. Does it still make it vegan?” Jeno mused, a light chuckle eliciting from his lips.

You paused, clicking your tongue before waving it off.

“Moving on!”

“Compared to those cooking videos on youtube and instagram, I think it’s safe to say we suck at this,” you said as you began mixing the ingredients together with the spatula he gave you, trying to chew in between your words. “What are you talking about? It doesn’t look that bad. Plus, we’re barely halfway through the damn process, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, y/n.” he huffed, pointing at the dough that has started to form.

“Jeno, I’ve seen too many Tasty youtube videos. I know what a good pizza dough looks like,” you paused your mixing to look at him and give him a disbelief scoff. Jeno rolled his eyes at this before pushing his last cookie into your mouth. “Excuse you, I’m the chef here. We are streaming from my account, therefore, you have no place to say if it’s bad or not because you simply haven’t tried it yet!” Jeno huffed, pinching your nose gingerly as he scrunched his nose cutely at you.

You sighed, chewing the cookie in your mouth anyway as you continued mixing till a small dough started to form. “But this doesn’t look right, Jeno,” you informed, moving the bowl closer to your boyfriend and using the spatula to prove your point. From what you two have seen on youtube, pizza dough was supposed to be stretchy and sticky like those pizza makers who flips the pizza in the air with their hands oh-so-majestically.

However, compared to those videos, your dough was more like a literal embodiment of your lives. The dough was hard and rigid like hard cookie dough. It was tearing apart like dried play doh with every turn of your spatula and the dough appeared to be way smaller than the humongous amount of flour you added previously. Which was a big problem.

“Fnafenthusiast has donated $2! Says ‘the dough looks dry asf, are you sure that’s not play doh?’”

Jeno glanced up at the laptop screen at this, furrowing his brows at the statement. “Hold your horses there, buddy. This is not play doh! I assure you, it just needs a bit more mixing. At least I think-” he scrunches his nose with crossed arms, causing you to raise a brow at him. “You ‘think’, huh?” you raised a brow at him, shaking your head as you proceeded to mix the dough, cringing internally at how the dough kept breaking apart.

“Jeno, I’m not kidding. The dough looks more broken than my old Nintendo DS,” you commented, causing Jeno to click his tongue in thought. “Maybe you just need to mix it even more? I mean, we’ve been following the recipe,” Jeno scratched the back of his neck as he held the bowl and leaned it closer to him. “The recipe filled with only ingredients and no other instructions whatsoever, you mean?” you said sarcastically.

“Hey, listen. I was writing an essay that night as well, my wrists were about to snap off if I wrote down the whole recipe-” Jeno was soon cut off when you quickly dipped your fingers into the opened packet of flour and smeared it across his face and hoodie. “Hey!” he exclaimed, wiping the powdery substance off of his cheeks with a frown on his face.

“Shut up,” you grinned before Jeno swiped his fingers against the counter which was still partially covered with flour and pinched your cheek eagerly. “I hate you so much,” he stated with a soft chuckle, his previously taken aback expression morphing into one filled with love and adoration. “Of course you do,” you nodded before looking at the camera while wiping the flour off of your cheeks, unaware that some of it was still staining your cheeks.

“Itsoraanchhey just donated $4! Says ‘snort the flour’” the speechbot said monotonously.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, definitely not doing that,” you looked down at the dough, mushing it around with the spatula. “This is a family friendly live stream, okay. No snorting here!” Jeno laughed, tutting as he waved his index finger at the audience. “Don’t do drugs kids!” you both exclaimed in unison, giving the camera enthusiastic jazz hands. “Or it’s jail time!” you added before snickering to yourselves.

“Where are we even going with this?” Jeno snorted.

“Time to knead the dough!” you exclaimed eagerly. To be honest you were waiting for this part since he told you that you were making pizza instead of chocolate balls. “Alright then. I’m going to go wash my hands again,” Jeno nodded, smacking his hands together as he walked towards the sink, letting you divide the dough in half with your wooden cooking utensil. “I’m sure this is enough, right?” you looked up at the camera with a nervous yet hopeful smile.

“c-sanshone just donated $5.66! Says ‘no’” the speech bot said, causing you to frown involuntarily.

“You guys really should learn to be supportive of other people’s goals. The point here is to have fun and to chat with all you lovely people,” you huffed, putting your hands on your hips sassily in an attempt to scold your viewers. “I thought the point of all this was so that we could eat something that isn’t frozen pre-made food,” Jeno jokes, waving his wet hands at you, causing water droplets to hit your cheeks at the rapid movement.

“That too,” you nodded with a small hum.

“Okay but let’s get these out of the way, first,” you started picking up the measuring cups lying around the counter and putting them back in their place as Jeno helps put back the leftover ingredients into the cabinets. “We should never open a restaurant,” you concluded, looking at the evenly divided dough that was barely holding itself together. “As much as it pains me to say, I agree,” Jeno nodded with a heavy sigh.

“Gordon Ramsey, we’ll make you proud someday,” Jeno cried dramatically, scrunching his face as he let out a fake sob, wiping invisible tears off of his cheeks. “Gordon Ramsay went ham on Mark’s cooking show, do you think he’ll give us mercy if we tweet out the current conditions of our dough?” you asked, kissing your teeth as you recalled the iconic tweet Gordon Ramsay himself made when he reacted to your friend cooking a sunny side up egg for the first time in his life.

“Xiaojun was holding a fire extinguisher. I’m sure he would be proud of us for making it this far without fucking it up too much,” he shrugged, examining the mess of state your kitchen was in. “Oh bless the lord, hope we don’t end up burning the house or breaking the oven,” you groaned to yourself, rubbing your forehead in distress before a sudden realisation washed over you.

“Jeno,” you called out with wide eyes. “Yeah?” Jeno replied shortly, scrolling through the crowded chat box on the laptop screen. “Have we preheated the oven?” you asked, slowly turning your head towards him to increase suspense. Jeno’s eyes went wide for a second and you swore you could hear Renjun singing ‘wae naneun neoreul mannaseo!” and Taeil singing ‘apado gwaenchana’ flamboyantly in the background.

“Fuck, I forgot!” Jeno exclaimed, watching you rush to the oven to adjust the settings. “I’m sorry!” he laughed, watching you fiddle with the settings before turning it on to preheat the oven. “Fuck,” you groaned, suppressing the urge to bang your head against the kitchen counter as your boyfriend continued to laugh behind you.

“Wait, how much was it again?” you asked, looking back at your boyfriend who quickly grabbed the piece of paper and squinted his eyes at it. “430 frames per secon- I mean, fahrenheit!” Jeno squeaked, coughing at his small mistake, causing you to chuckle. “Jeno this isn’t an animation video, also 430 frames is a lot,” you pressed the button to turn on the oven before smacking your hands together with a heavy sigh.

“I need a vacation after this whole video,” you grumbled as you stomped back over to the front of the camera.

“Too bad, love. It’s covid season, you’re not escaping me anytime soon,” he planted a loud wet smooch on your cheek, pulling you close against his side for a brief second before letting you go as if nothing had happened. “Let’s stop this tomfoolery and get back to work, shall we?” Jeno smiled with a clap of his hands, picking up the packet of flour you used earlier and dipping his fingers in to sprinkle some of it onto the kitchen counter.

“Salt bae, indeed,” you snickered, making Jeno pinch his fingers together in an attempt to mimic the said meme, eliciting small giggles from the both of you. “Oh my god, Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us,” he laughed, realising that he should’ve sprinkle on the cutting board displayed right in front of you instead of the counter. “At least we managed to have fun,” you waved it off casually, ignoring how panicked you actually were on the inside.

“Goodbye, midnight ramen. You will be missed,” Jeno patted his chest sadly, clutching the fabric as if he was the main character in a play with a tragic backstory.

“Kainoticedme just donated $7! Says ‘the motto of this whole stream should be Sometimes It’s Okay To Give Up’”

“Hey! What do you mean ‘give up’?” you retorted with a scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “No one’s giving up anything today, okay?” you exclaimed with a firm shake of your head. “What a pep talk,” Jeno clapped his hands unceremoniously as he stared at the camera with a deadpan expression. “Insert that meme of Lady Gaga saying a bunch of synonyms of ‘amazing’, please!” Jeno clapped his hands harder before taking a step back to dodge your soft smacks.

“Shut up!” you laughed, retracting your hand as your boyfriend dodged your hits before watching Jeno come up with the bowl filled with dough. A proud smile stretching across his lips as he rhythmically taps his fingers against the plastic bowl. “Okay, check this out!” he exclaimed, flipping the bowl over with no hesitation before shaking it when the dough wasn’t coming out. “Stop, Jeno, that’s not a macaron batter. Babe, it’s gonna-”

The dough flopped on the counter not-so-graciously when it finally pulled away from the bowl, making the flour go everywhere: on your clothes, faces and everywhere else on the counter. “Lee Jeno!” you exclaimed, your mouth gaping open as you patted your shirt to dust the flour away. “Y/N L/N!” he mimicked your tone teasingly with a boyish grin, wiping the flour off of his cheek before smearing it even more on your clothes.

“Stop! I didn’t bring a change of clothes!” you whined, swatting his hand away with a laugh. “Oh calm down, you drama queen. You can use my clothes after this,” he rolled his eyes at you, putting the bowl aside on the counter as you continued to complain and whine about how you’re never going to forgive him for ruining your favourite shirt. “You’re the drama queen!” you shot back with a finger pointing directly at him. “Why did you have to do that?” you exclaimed with a whine.

“Originality and creativity, love,” Jeno shrugged, collecting the dough and playing with the mixture innocently as if he hadn’t made a mess of the kitchen and your clothes for laughs. “I hate you,” you mumbled under your breath, taking a few steps back to dodge his upcoming kisses when he turned his body to face you. “Aw man, I wanted to kiss your floury face,” he pouted, causing your heart to skip a beat at his words.

“Later,” you rolled your eyes at him, letting him off the hook for being an idiot. An adorable idiot.

Wait no, YOUR adorable idiot.

“Okay let’s do some teamwork and knead the dough together!” Jeno exclaimed, pulling you alongside him in front of the camera before kneading the dough closest to him. “Why is this harder than it looks?” you snorted as you began to slowly massage the dough with your palms. “Shh!” Jeno shushed, his lips puckering as he made soft shushing noises. “Let the dough do it’s work, all you have to do is knead it to perfection,” he spoke softly.

“I highly doubt that,” Jeno added almost inaudibly, making you chuckle at your boyfriend. “I love how you’re just exaggerating and blowing things up out of proportion,” he commented, turning to look at you. You glanced up at him with a small hum, cocking your head to the side in confusion which made Jeno’s stomach do somersaults. “Originality and creativity, babe,” you quoted, giggling slightly.

“Please, Rie McClenny would be screaming in pain if she ever finds this video,” Jeno rolled his eyes before leaning close to the mic above the camera to whisper against it. “Tasty please sponsor me, I swear I won’t burn down the whole kitchen,” he whispered loudly, eliciting laughs from your audience. “Tasty, we’re open for sponsors or collabs!” you joined in on his little joke, tossing the dough up in the air before letting it flop down on the counter, inevitably making a larger mess.

“Hey! You’re copying me!” Jeno whined, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “How quaint,” you replied in a bittersweet tone, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before focusing on kneading the dough again. “That’s it.” Jeno stopped kneading his dough to cross his arms against his chest with a small pout on his lips. “I’m terminating our friendship!” he huffed, looking away from you childishly, trying not to crack up at his pathetic attempts to act cute.

“So? Do you prefer us to be lovers instead?” you mused, wiggling your eyebrows instead before laughing hard when you saw your boyfriend letting out a loud groan. “God, you’re annoying,” he laughed, slinging an arm around your waist to give you a small side hug before pulling away to continue punching the life out of his dough.

“Nimoncross has donated $10! Says ‘the amount of tik tok and meme references in this live stream is astronomical’”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you both sighed heavily. “Why is the dough sticking onto the counter?” you chuckled nervously, looking up at your boyfriend who was dealing with the same problem himself. “Just knead it a bit more? At least that’s what Jaemin said when we ran through the recipe,” Jeno scratched the back of his head in confusion, not acknowledging how he got flour on his hair again until you began to dust it off for him.

“Remember that video of Rie Mclenny cooking a pizza with zero waste?” you asked, turning to your boyfriend as you two began poking holes into the dough. “Not really, why?” he shook his head at you. “I remember her dough was super stretchy and squishy. Also her dough bounces back if you poke it, while ours… don’t. There’s something definitely wrong with our dough,” you laughed, wiping your hands against your white apron.

“Okay, that’s probably because we’re using a whole different recipe than hers,” Jeno shrugged carelessly as he continued to fiddle with the dough on the counter.

“Okay, but all jokes aside, it’s actually sticking to the counter. Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us,” Jeno stated with a light hearted laugh, pulling the dough back to bunch it up in his palms only for some of it to stick to the counter and tear apart. “Oh god, we’re never going to be allowed in this kitchen ever again,” you complained with a small whine, grabbing the bowl you set aside and putting your doughs back in.

“I think it’s best we leave those be till we decide what to do with them,” Jeno said, turning to wash his hands in the sink with you right behind him. “Leeteukspeaks has donated $8! Says ‘add more flour, oml. We’ve been telling you this for the past fifteen minutes!’” the speech bot said, attracting your attention back to the camera as you walked back to the counter. “Add more flour?” you asked, looking at the sticky doughs in the bowl with an unsure expression.

“If I remember correctly, it’s supposed to be like that, we just gotta let it rest,” Jeno said, cracking his knuckles as he spoke. “Chill out, chat. We know what we’re doing. My restaurant is a five star restaurant, just trust the process,” Jeno assured the audience who just continued to spam the chat box with a series of ‘no’s and ‘you guys are idiots, listen to us!’.

“Though, we got to leave it to rest for a whole hour. So,” he reached over to the other side of the counter where another bowl was wrapped with a sheet of plastic wrap over it and plopping it down in front of the camera. “We prepared another bowl that’s already been sitting for the past hour,” he grinned, causing you to furrow your brows and dilate your pupils at the bowl in his hands.

‘Where the fuck did that bowl come from?’ you thought to yourself but you didn’t want to think of it too much. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can log off and sleep. “If you guys saw my instagram story and my snapchat, you guys would’ve seen this coming,” Jeno grinned, shaking the bowl in his hand. “So this is what you were doing while I was writing my essay?” you asked with a chuckle, fidgeting with the plastic wrapper around the corners of the bowl.

Jeno hummed in response, giving you a cute eye smile as he lets you pull the plastic wrap away from the bowl. “Though it seems like the yeast didn’t rise,” you stated, poking a finger on the dough to see if it will bounce back. “This live stream is a very shitty version of a cooking mama game,” you mumbled under your breath which made Jeno laugh. “Babe, hush, you want to get this over with right?” he asked with a smug expression, putting his hand in the bowl to poke it as well.

“danishyi has donated $4! Says ‘Gordon Ramsay would not be proud right now’”

“What are you talking about? Gordon Ramsay is loving this. In fact, I showed him the dough earlier on twitter and he said it was way better than his! Right y/n?” Jeno nudged you with an amused voice, making you give him a deadpan expression, scrunching your nose in fake disgust as you slowly nodded to please your boyfriend. “Whatever you say, babe,” you agreed, going along with his joke.

“Alright, let’s get the dough out-”

“Wait, at least let me sprinkle more flour first, Jeno!” you halted him midway from scooping out the dough to quickly fetch the flour packet and sprinkle in some flour on the counter, inevitably making an even more larger mess in the kitchen. “Right, shit, sorry,” he giggled before putting the dough on the counter and using a knife to divide the dough in half.

“Damn, this is really oily.” you stated, starting to fold the dough over itself and ignoring the weird feeling that comes with touching the oily surface. “No shit, we added virgin oil, babe,” Jeno snickered with a shake of his head, following your actions with his own dough. “Did Jaemin help you with this?” you asked, looking up at him for a brief moment before starting to knead and massage your dough.

“Nope, he refused to help. He had some hope that I won’t burn down the kitchen if I do it myself,” he shook his head, flipping the dough upside down before pressing holes with his fingers. “That’s unfortunate, wait until he finds out you trashed the kitchen instead,” you chuckled, earning a soft glare from the boy beside you. “Hey, at least I didn’t burn it down like he hoped, give me a break.” He sighed exasperatedly.

“Wait so what are you going to do with the other dough that we made? You can’t possibly throw it out, right? That thing’s our new baby now,” you joked, pointing a finger at the bowl filled with the dough you made earlier. Jeno turned his head at the bowl before looking down at the camera with a boyish smile, “so you actually want to start a family with me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you before earning a soft push from you.

“You dumbass, be serious!” you groaned, suppressing a smile as you felt your heart skip a beat at the mention of starting a family with Jeno. “I can’t be Sirius, I’m Jeno,” Jeno said with a smug expression before letting out a squeal and running out of the camera view when he saw you lift your dough up in your palm threateningly as if you were going to throw it at him like a frisbee.

“I knew it was a mistake to watch Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban today,” you snorted, putting your dough down as Jeno walked back towards you with loud giggles. “I swear we’re never going to get this done,” you groaned, putting your elbows on the flour-covered counter, ignoring how the white powder clung onto the fabric of your shirt as you groaned, suppressing the need to bang your head against the wall.

“Look at the bright side, baby. At least you’re spending quality time with your precious boyfriend, right everyone?” his eyes lit up as he stared back at the camera, receiving enthusiastic responses of agreements from the chat box and the speech bot. “Bright side, huh?” you chuckled, standing up straight to stretch your back as you continued kneading your dough. “I think that’s enough kneading!” you ignored your pouting boyfriend to take a step back and admire your work, putting your hands on your hips proudly as if you just found the key to ending World Hunger.

“So do we combine our doughs together and shape the dough or what?” you asked, hearing Jeno hum in thought. “How about you knead our dough together and I’ll find the toppings we need for our pizza?” he suggested, causing you to frown. He gave you an innocent grin, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead before giving you his usual puppy eyes, the one you couldn’t say no to, which caused you to frown even deeper.

You groaned, sighing deeply and dramatically before nodding. “You’re lucky I love you too much,” you mumbled under your breath, pressing a small kiss on his cheek gingerly before coming up to the counter to mix both of your doughs together. “Hey, I made this dough all by myself, you don’t get to complain shit!” he laughed, running off to ask Jaemin where he usually puts the other ingredients. “We could’ve had a higher rate of success if we’d just stuck to making chocolate balls!” you yelled, using all of your remaining strength to knead the dough.

You didn’t know if Jeno ignored you or didn’t hear you because he didn’t respond back as he jogged to his roommate’s room. But you clicked your tongue and proceeded to flatten the dough out and make somewhat of a circular shape and folded over the dough for a thick crust, pinching your fingers to make the dough stick to itself as you spread it out. “Okay, so this looks more like a pizza now, right?” you asked, looking up at the camera.

“Now we’re just going to flat the dough out evenly, just like that!” you exclaimed, smacking the dough with your hand before looking at the laptop screen, watching as your audience continued to spill in jokes and words in caps lock in the chat. You purse your lips before continuing on shaping the pizza as Jeno then finally walked back into the kitchen and began opening the fridge and the cabins, pulling out some marinara sauce and some cheese.

“Seriously, that’s it?” you asked, raising your brows at the containers in his hands. “Yeah, basically. What? You want to add pineapples on it or something?” he raised his brow at you as the corners of his lips quirked up into a teasing smile. “Ew, no, stop,” you fake gagged at him, causing Jeno to giggle as he popped the lid of the marinara sauce open with his hands.

“Watch as Gordon Ramsay knocks on that door just to call us an idiot sandwich,” you snickered pointing at the door with a flour covered finger, making Jeno laugh, shaking his head at your nonsense. “Excuse you, if anything he’s going to praise us for making this delicious cuisine,” Jeno hesitated on the last part of his sentence when he took a look at your kitchen. “Are you sure this is cuisine? This radiates the same vibe as Hyuck eating ramen without cooking it,” you cringed internally.

“Floofybunbun has donated $3! Says ‘USE A ROLLING PIN, NOT YOUR HANDS!’”

Your heads shot up at this before exchanging confused glances. “A rolling pin?” you both asked in unison. “Do you even have a rolling pin here?” you asked as you and Jeno glanced around and started opening drawers and cupboards to search for one. “I don’t think so. Then, again, we’re broke college students I’m surprised we even have fucking mozzarella cheese in this place,” Jeno picked up the small container of shredded mozzarella before dropping it down carelessly on the counter.

“Okay, we gotta improvise then,” you huffed, looking around for any object that could be used to roll out your dough before you spotted Jaemin’s reusable starbucks cup. “This!” you exclaimed, rushing to take it in your hands and showing it to the camera. “I know, this isn’t a rolling pin, guys. But it could be if you just imagine it,” you grinned, ignoring Jeno’s gaping expression as he felt his skin run cold. “Do you have a death wish?” Jeno laughed nervously.

“Jaemin’s going to make us wish we were never born if anything happens to his favourite cup,” Jeno picked the cup from your hands and keeping it away from your reach by stretching his arm above his head when you attempted to snatch it back. “Come on, Jeno. Life is boring without a little danger,” you teased, stepping on your tippy toes to reach his arm but failing to no avail.

“Just use that pringles container,” Jeno cocked his head to the direction of his collection of snacks on the counter right below the cupboard out of the camera’s view. You glanced at the treat before raising your brow. “Wouldn’t the dough stick to the paper-ish surface?” you asked with a raised brow, making Jeno sigh in defeat. “Fuck, right,” he handed you back the cup, letting you roll the dough out evenly with the cup.

“Jaemin’s going to get so mad,” you laughed, humming a merry tune as you thinned out the dough, staining the cup with flour with every roll of your hands. “No shit,” Jeno huffed, leaning his head down in distress as he let out a loud chuckle.

“Itsokayman has donated $10! Says ‘the fact that you aren’t using a rolling pin physically hurts me”

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Everyone here watching the chat can relate to you, right now,” you and Jeno chuckled, stretching a hand to gesture at the camera. “That includes us, as well,” Jeno added with a tight-lipped smile, widening his eyes dramatically. “Wrap it up, Mike Wazoski,” you twisted your index finger in horizontal motions, laughing at your own joke.

“You did not just disrespect my man, Mike like that-”

“Anyways!” you cut him off abruptly, ignoring the pout he gave you afterwards. “The dough is falling apart but fuck it, it’s been thirty minutes since the live started and as much as I love talking to you guys I’m hungry,” you smiled, putting your hands on your hips once again with Jeno laughing behind you. “How straight forward,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his chin against your shoulder, leaning his head against yours and nuzzling against your hair.

“Honesty is the best policy, babe,” you pressed a butterfly kiss on his nose before getting back to forming the crust with your fingers, Jeno still clinging to your back like an adorable koala as he watched you with loving eyes.

“Tenshi-chanxx has donated $6! Says ‘stop ignoring us and listen! We’re trying to help you, the dough is literally falling apart. We won’t know what’s going to happen to your little play doh if you put it in the fucking oven!’”

You both looked up at his, eyes blowing wide before sharing the same flabbergasted expressions before turning to the camera and shaking your heads. “No,” you both said monotonously in unison before going back to your dough and laughing it out. “We’re just here to have some fun,” you shrugged at the camera with a casual expression. “Even if we end up going to our own funerals after this,” Jeno added with a harsh gulp.

“Okay, so now. We’re going to add this little baby,” you outstretched your arm to reach the marinara sauce, showing it to the camera and turning your head to look at your boyfriend with a small smile. “Can you open this please?” you asked in the most kindest tone you could muster, internally wincing at how cringey you sounded. He laughed at your pathetic attempts to use a sweet tone but nods nonetheless, releasing his tight grasp on your waist to open the jar of sauce with a small ‘pop’.

“Here you go,” he handed you back the jar before leaning his hands on the counter, not taking his eyes off of you. “Now, you’re gonna wanna put it like it’s mayo,” Jeno explained, pointing at the pizza dough as you grabbed two clean spoons from one of the drawers and handing it to him. “That’s a terrible reference,” you snickered, scooping a spoonful of the sauce and dumping it on the dough, tapping it against it to make sure all the sauce slips down.

“Shut up, baby, I’m doing an explanation here. Like those animal documentaries in Nat Geo Wild,” Jeno chuckles, scooping a spoonful of sauce himself and mirroring your actions, spreading it all over the pizza with a click of his tongue. “You got to make sure to spread it nice and evenly to get more flavor,” Jeno stuck his tongue out in the corners of his mouth in concentration as you two spread the sauce all around the dough.

You couldn’t hold in your laugh as he continued to do those monotone voices wildlife documentary narrators often use on TV. “I’m sorry but this looks like something out of an accident,” you laughed, pointing at the messy pizza on the counter. “It actually does. Oh shit, it actually fucking does,” Jeno puts a hand to his mouth to conceal his shock as he howled out laughing. “This was a whole mess,” you put your spoon back in the sink with a wheeze.

“Please, just cut the cameras already,” you clutched your stomach as it was starting to hurt from laughing too much. “The show must go on, y/n! Get a hold of yourself, my love!” Jeno said dramatically, grabbing some water to clear his throat as he continued to laugh with you. “We should be cast in a new ratatouille movie,” you snorted, wiping an invisible tear. “Or a new bee movie,” Jeno added with a soft chortle, handing you his own spoon.

“Disney, hit us up!” you gave the camera a dramatic finger gun, causing Jeno to double over laughing. “We’re open for sponsors, Disney! Emails and shit will be down in the description box below!” you gave them an awkward smile and jazz hands to add more flavor to your grand advertisement. “Yeah, don’t do that again. At this point, we’re never going to get sponsored by Disney nor Gordon Ramsey,” Jeno pressed a soft kiss to the corners of your lips, making you pout at his words.

“It’s a hard knock life,” you sang under your breath.

“For us,” he finished.

“Anyways! Why do we keep saying ‘anyways’?” you both couldn’t stop laughing the more you see your failure of a pizza. “You all know chefs make mistakes from time to time right? So we- more specifically, I came up with a back up plan. A plan B basically,” he marched unceremoniously to the fridge, opening the freezer and poking his head in. “Jeno don’t tell me you have another secret batch in there. We don’t have enough friends to poison if these doughs don’t turn out good,” you teased, turning on the tap and running your hands under the water to wash off any dough left in between your fingers.

Jeno then pulled out his supposed ‘plan B’ which turns out to be a box of frozen pizza he bought from the supermarket the other day. “Classic pepperoni pizza,” you read the label aloud with a soft giggle. “I don’t think that’s going to compare to the exquisite meal we made here, Jeno,” you gestured to the sloppy deformed pizza on your counter, which made Jeno snort. “Facts,” he agreed with a soft chuckle.

“I knew this pizza would come in handy. Now let’s compare this to our own pizza here,” he grinned, opening the pizza box and pulling the plastic wrapped food out of the box, setting it down beside your own pizza. The frozen pizza in comparison was making your homemade pizza feel like a shrivelled old 6000 year old snail and you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh about it.

“Out of context, if we ever decide to join a Master Chef competition. No guaranteed, with this lovely pizza of ours? We’re going to be the next Gordon Ramsay and rule the goddamn world,” you almost choked on your own spit as you laughed, Jeno shaking his head at you with a wide smile on his face. “I live for your sarcasm,” he reached over to pinch your cheeks gingerly, cooing softly at you.

“Come on, compared to our pizza. You can tell which one is better,” you said in a proud tone as if you weren’t on the brink of crying out of embarrassment now. Watching Jeno rip the plastic packaging open and pulling out the pizza, you couldn’t help but make more sardonic jokes about your own creation, amusing your audience as those who donated expressed their thoughts over the speech bot.

“Since we don’t have pepperoni in this house, we’re just going to borrow some from this pizza right here,” Jeno pulls out some chopsticks from God knows where and started picking up a few pepperonis from the frozen pizza, placing them right on top of the marinara sauce spread sloppily on your pizza dough. “Jeno I- you know you could just use other alternatives than just straight up stealing pepperonis from the frozen one?” you said incredulously with a slight laugh

“We’re professionals, y/n. If we don’t have a certain ingredient, we improvise,” he grinned cheekily, making you roll your eyes. “You could add the leftover sausages from the fridge and yet you decide to steal the pepperoni, real professional, Jeno,” you nodded with crossed arms as Jeno neatly arranged the pepperonis on your pizza. “Also why are you making the pepperonis stand up on the dough?” you asked, pointing at the vertical pepperonis piling up on the dough.

“Originality and creativity,” he stated without hesitation.

“Just so you know, neither of these pizzas are safe for human consumption,” you stated, pointing to the two pizzas on the counter. “Oh yeah, definitely. That’s the exact reason why I chose this for today’s Christmas cooking livestream,” Jeno nodded in agreement, giving you a small thumbs up before giving a small clap. “But honestly, what is safe for human consumption in this world?” he asked with a questioning look, waving his hand to the side as he furrowed his brows and gave the camera a ‘duh’ look.

“Cheese!” you exclaimed eagerly out of random, putting your hands on the counter with an excited smile. Jeno furrowed his brows at you. “Aren’t some people lactose intolerant?” he asked, receiving a deadpan expression from you . “No, you idiot. I meant, it’s time to pour the cheese!” you snatched the small container filled with shredded mozzarella behind him and waved it in front of the camera.

“Right. I forgot, I knew the pizza was missing something,” Jeno puts his palm against his forehead, shaking his head in disappointment as he lets out small chuckles. “How could you forget the star of the show?” your eyes grew wide at him, putting your hand on your chest as you looked at him in an almost offended expression. “Honestly, Jeno, I expected better from you,” you shook your head, making small ‘tsk’ sounds under your breath.

Jeno rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead gently before giving you a sweet smile. “Whatever, just pour as much cheese as you want so we can quickly pop these in the oven,” Jeno giggled, watching you rub the slightly sore spot on your forehead as you gave him a threatening glare. “I hate you,” you opened the container with a huff, putting your fingers in before generously sprinkling the cheese all over the pizza.

“I love how the chat box exploded with the word ‘cheese’,” you snickered, pointing at the laptop screen. “Jaemin and his lactose intolerant ass is probably crying right now,” Jeno added, nodding in amusement as he dipped his hand in the container to sprinkle more cheese himself. “That is, if he’s watching,” you chuckled, looking up at your boyfriend’s handsome face. “I pray to God he isn’t,” he added with a nervous laugh.

The oven then made a loud ‘beep’ to signal that it’s already preheated, causing you and Jeno to cheer loudly as your audience prays for the safety of Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. “Oh, yay! Finally!” you cheered, walking over to open one of the cabins to pull out a long tray for your pizzas. “Okay, so we finally get to the interesting part of this whole live stream!” you exclaimed, placing the tray carefully in front of the pizza. “Not really,” you added quickly.

“Anyways, which pizza shall we try first?” you asked, pointing at the two uncooked pizzas on the kitchen counter. “Our baby or the store bought one?” you asked, pointing at the two pizzas to emphasize on your words. “Why not both?” Jeno asked with a raised brow, handing you a glass of water out of nowhere. “Drink water, kids !” he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up at the camera as you casually took the glass from him and gulped it down without hesitation.

“Alright then, both!” you agreed with a nod, placing your small pizza dough carefully on the tray, watching as bits of shredded cheese fell off of the corners of your pizza. “Fuck, the floor is literallt a mess right now,” Jeno chuckled, taking a step back to examine the state of your floor, internally noting to himself how much of struggle it’ll be to clean all this up later. “Just like our pizza right here,” you smiled awkwardly at the camera as you struck a pose with your sloppy pizza on the tray.

“Brookestoresle has donated $7! Says ‘SPRAY THE DAMN PAN!’”

“Spray the pan?” you repeated in a questioning tone, a perplexed expression glossing over both of your features. “What do you mean ‘spray the pan’? What is it for?” Jeno asked, looking through the comments to see if anyone could elaborate on that. “Do we spray it with Windex or something? What are we supposed to spray it with, exactly?” you said, half jokingly. “Definitely,” Jeno nodded, laughing at your suggestion.

“rouroul3l3 has donated $5! Says ‘put a fucking cooking spray. Put a fucking cooking spray before you pop it in the oven, idiots’”

“Oh. Right!” you both exclaimed in unison, running around the kitchen to find some cooking spray. “Do you even have cooking spray?” you exclaimed, shutting the drawers close as you came back to the camera’s line of vision. “Uh,” Jeno paused for a second before walking out of the camera view and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Jaemin! Do we have cooking spray?” he ran over to his roommate’s room once again.

In the distance you can hear Jaemin’s door being slammed open by either the man himself or your boyfriend. “What do you want now, Jeno?!” he exclaimed loudly, loud enough for you and the microphone to pick up, that is. “Do we have cooking spray?” Jeno’s voice was barely audible to the viewers, but luckily, you adjusted the mic so they could hear the conversation they were having. “No, we don’t. Could you two keep it down? I’m almost done editing my video,” Jaemin groaned.

“Okay, okay. But what should we use since we don’t have cooking spray?” Jeno asked once again, pushing on the poor boy’s buttons as you stared at the camera with an amused expression, trying hard not to burst out laughing. “I don’t know, just melt some butter or something,” was the last thing you heard before Jaemin’s door slammed shut, causing you to finally burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jeno chuckled, jogging over to pinch your cheeks as you continued to laugh. “So we don’t have cooking spray?” you teased before Jeno gave you an incredulous scoff. “I know for a fact you heard Jaemin yelling at the top of his lungs so don’t you even dare ask that question!” Jeno giggled, waving his index finger at you disappointingly. “I’m just kidding,” you smacked his hand away before grabbing some butter from the fridge.

“Let’s just put this in the oven for it to melt for about five-ish minutes,” Jeno said, carefully pulling the dough from the tray for you to spread butter all over it. He placed the dough back on the counter before lifting the tray and putting it in the oven, clasping his hands together loudly before turning to look at the laptop screen in front of the two of you. “Now we wait!” he exclaimed with a bright, tight-lipped smile.

“Wafflesisyou has donated $9! Says ‘You could’ve used olive oil, you know’”

You and Jeno froze in place as if your brains short circuited for a brief second before laughing it off casually. “You guys could’ve told us that earlier, it’s too late now. The pan is in the oven, there’s no turning back now,” you said in a sinister voice, laughing nervously as you moved over to peek at the tray through the door of the oven. “Like I said before, originality and creativity. We’re coming up with new scientific methods to cook our pizza,” Jeno added with an innocent smile.

You then grabbed a wet rag and opened the oven, pulling the tray out to show the camera that the butter has melted completely. “Okay, so now that that’s done. How do we fit two pizzas in one tray? That’s literally the only tray we have in this house,” Jeno pointed at the pizza then pointed at the tray as you carefully placed the hot tray on the counter near the pizza. “Uh, the store-bought one is a little too big,” you laughed, lifting the cold circular pizza to make a point before putting it back down on the counter,

“Does anyone have any advice? We really need your help on this one, chat,” Jeno giggled, dusting off the flour on his clothes. “‘Cut it’,” you read aloud, squinting your eyes at the chat box before humming. “Don’t you have a pizza cutter somewhere?” you asked causing Jeno to start looking around the drawers once again. “We really should have prepared this earlier. It’s been an hour and a half since the live stream started and we spent most of the live being idiots,” Jeno mumbled aloud, causing you to laugh. “Summary of our relationship, really,” you shrugged at the camera.

Pulling out a clean pizza cutter, Jeno raised it up like an adorable child and hopped on over beside you with a small ‘found it!’ coming from his lips. “You’re so adorable,” you gushed, you couldn’t help but reach over and pinch your boyfriend’s cheeks gingerly, causing him to swat your hand away with a roll of his eyes. He then cut the pizza in half before placing it at the edge of the tray, putting your smaller one right beside it.

“There! It fits!” he exclaimed. “Finally!” you groaned, grabbing the wet rag you previously tossed away when no one was looking and lifted the tray up. “Now to bake in the microwave! Gordon Ramsay, we’ll make you proud!” Jeno beamed, watching as you pushed the tray into the oven and pressed some buttons to turn it on and start the timer.

“You know that cooking show where people who are like- the worst cooks known to mankind are featured on? I believe there was a girl who cut an avocado along with the seed with a knife as if it was butter? I really do believe we have the potential of being the winners of that show,” you put your hands up in exhaustion, making Jeno wheeze and clutch his stomach in pain as he continued to laugh hard.

“The Worst Cooks In America was by far the most interesting cooking video in my youtube recommended feed,” Jeno wiped his tears away as he continued to laugh at your jokes. “Stop or else I’m kicking you out of the live stream,” Jeno threatened weakly, composing himself for a brief moment before meeting your eyes which were glinting in amusement. “Oh, really?” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him before snorting at your own cringey actions.

“I’m never doing that again,” you wheezed out. “Please do,” Jeno nodded in agreement as the viewers continued to watch you read comments and joke around while waiting for the pizzas to finally cook. At some point you and Jeno started sword fighting with cooking utensils on camera with your viewers commenting either how you were going to break your cooking utensils or supporting you individually in said battle.

But nonetheless it was still a funny moment considering Jeno whipped out a cutting board from the counter behind him to use as a shield. You ended up losing and Jeno insisted that you kissed the winner as the prize. But unfortunately for him, you were too much of a troll to give your viewers the satisfaction of seeing the two of you kiss on camera so you tugged him by the collar of his shirt and took a few steps back to give him his prize.

“Pizza’s ready!” you exclaimed, pulling away from Jeno who seemed to be in a daze after kissing you for a solid fifteen seconds as you ran up to the oven. Grabbing some gloves from the cupboard above you, you slipped them on and pulled out the pizzas with a proud smile etched across your face. “Voila!” you did a chef’s kiss as you plopped the tray down on the counter, adjusting the camera so your viewers could have a magnificent view of the cheese bubbling on the pizza.

“Bon appétit!" Jeno said, wiping the remnants of your lip gloss from his mouth as he walked back into the camera’s view. Glitter spread all around his mouth as he gave a boyish smile at the camera, waving at it as if nothing had happened behind the camera. “Okay, but- damn! It smells so good in here,” Jeno gasped as you sliced a piece or two of your pizza and placed it on a clean white plate with a confirmed nod. “Agreed. I actually take what I said back, this actually doesn’t look too bad,” you admitted with a sigh, handing him a plate before raising yours at the camera.

“This looks exquisite if I do say so myself,” Jeno picked up the pizza with his fingers, examining it. “Actually, it’s kind of burnt a little on the bottom but I loved how it turned out!” Jeno’s eyes twinkled with joy once he realised you two didn’t fuck up too badly in this cooking live stream. “I still would have preferred it if we made chocolate balls instead,” you muttered under your breath, receiving a glare from Jeno.

“Maybe next year,” he joked before taking a bite out of the pizza, humming in delight.

“Is it actually good? “ you asked him.

“A little undercooked, but it’s actually really good! ”

You gaped, leaning your head to the side in wonder as you watched him nod eagerly. You opened your mouth at him, gesturing for him to feed you as you let out a soft ‘ah!’. Jeno smiled, leaning his hands forward to put the plate under your chin and the pizza into your mouth, letting you take a big bite out of it. You chewed for a small moment, feeling Jeno’s eyes on you curiously.

You hummed as your eyes lit up in surprise, nodding as you gave him a thumbs up. “It’s rather burnt, but it’s not that bad! It has my seal of semi-approval!” you gave the camera a small thumbs up before, picking up your own plate which was supposed to be the store bought pizza. “Now let’s try this one!” you turned your plate around to let the viewers drool over your premade pizza before taking a bite out of it, not forgetting to feed Jeno as well.

You and Jeno hummed in unison, nodding as you both internally agreed that this pizza was way better than yours.

“The store bought one tasted like trash,” you said to the camera. “Ours was definitely better,” Jeno nodded, going along with your joke as you both continued to eat the store bought pizza together in front of the camera. “Ladies and Gentlemen, our recipe is a ten out of ten! We did it!” you both clapped graciously to your own success, cheering as if you just won the lottery and ignoring how Jaemin’s muffled shouts for you two to shut up fell deaf in your ears.

You coughed, grabbing a glass of water as Jeno continued to eat the pizza. He then decided it was your cue to end the live stream together. “Okay guys, it’s time for us to head out,” he started, dusting the crumbs off of his hands as he placed the half eaten pizza back on the plate. “Thank you so much for watching this stream! This video will be reuploaded to youtube for those who missed out on this chaotic adventure!” you announced with a clap, giving your boyfriend a glass of water for him to drink.

“Thank you for donating and thank you for guiding us in our cooking journey. And most of all, thank you for being here and have a good night!” Jeno finished as you both waved at the camera enthusiastically with wide smiles before you clicked on your mouse to end the live stream with a high pitched “see you guys later!”

Jenogames has uploaded a new video!

Itshaechanyoursun has commented : Nobody:

Literally nobody:

Jeno: origintality and creativity.

Itshaechanyoursun has replied: *originality

Jenogames has replied: if you’re gonna clown me at least spell correctly

y/nisfunny: this was a terrible idea.

y/nisfunny: let’s make chocolate balls next!

Jenogames has replied: Babe, ily BUT NO

Nanaplays has commented: JENO YOU DID NOT JUST LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND USE MY NEW STARBUCKS CUP

DancingPWARK has commented: As a boy who only cooks instant ramen for a living, this video made me feel like I could be the next Gordon Ramsey

Jenogames has replied: AIGHT BET

Conspiracieswithyaboi has commented: the donations you made in this stream should be used for you guys to take culinary classes, this whole video was painful to watch

Leleflex has commented: F to the chocolate balls y/n never got to make

y/nisfunny has replied: THIS.

Markleevlogs has commented: Burn this.

TAGLIST: @moonbeamsung @hansolstea

a/n: LMAO WHAT IS THIS FIC

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #nct x reader #nct jeno x reader #nct dream jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #jeno fluff #nct u x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenaios #lee jeno scenarois #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios

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asteriismos · 4 years ago

Text

politics - jacob thrombey

authors note : pls listen to ‘tear you apart’ by she wants revenge while reading this literally. I hope this is at least consistent i did not proofread.

warning(s) : smut, swearing, degrading stuff

words : 3.4k

summary : you’re the liberal, bernie sanders lover at your prep school and jacob is the conservative nazi. the day of your schools political rally each of you finally get rid of that underlaying tension between you two.

“and oh my god he does this thing with his tongue and it just-”

“jesus, holly, we’re supposed to be talking about the rally,” you said to your friend, giving her daggers when you glanced at her. it was a day until the rally your private school, buxton prep, had every four years for the presidency.

in usual democratic, liberal fasion, you were rallying for bernie sanders. since you were a senior this year you got to run the whole project, which was obviously more work than you thought it would be, but then again it would look good on college applications. it also got you out of going to the boring classes you didn’t want to go to. all you had to do was raise your hand and say you needed to do something for the rally, and the teacher would dismiss you like it was nothing.

when you were a little freshman four years ago during the previous election, you were a part of the democratic team as well. though at that time you were just a little fourteen year old, so the seniors and juniors basically made you their lackey. you got coffee for them, baked so many cookies, and went on too many food runs you lost track of the number. you also made so many signs your fingers bled from the amount of paper cuts you got.

overall, you were very happy that you didn’t have to do that this year. call it hazing, but it made sense that the freshman were tasked with doing all that stuff.

at your school, which was too preppy it made rival schools want to throw up, the freshman were at the bottom of the food chain. and you had worked really hard to be the senior that you were now. you were popular, always having a group of lackeys, and had one of the best grades in your entire class.

“. . . sorry y/n, but i am working, look at these signs,” holly said, holding up the sign she was working on. it was a nice sign. holly was purposely tasked with doing the designs because she wanted to be an art major, and she was just a sophomore so you didn’t feel bad about telling her she needed to make fifty.

you gave her a feigning proud smile, nodding your head. “okay, whatever you say. who are you talking about anyways?”

holly looked up from her work, a blush splaying across her face. “no one, don’t worry about it, it was a one time thing.”

her eyes, however, gave it away. they looked past you and right at the group of boys who you despised. well, some of them were good, but they were led by someone who you fucking hated it made your blood boil.

dressed in the boys uniform of your school, a dark blue sweater with a white collar popped out and black dress pants, was jacob thrombey. he was talking to some of the other boys in the senior class, motioning with his hands while he talked expressively. you looked back at holly with wide eyes, realizing that jacob was the person that she had been talking about.

“you did not sleep with jacob thrombey,” you said, mouth agape with shock.

holly laughed nervously. “like i said, it was a one time thing! it was at that party you said you were going to go with the group to and you never showed up. i was horny i don’t know.”

“oh, that party, right,” you said with a shrug. you said that you would meet your group of friends at the party that colin ( another boy of the thrombey group ) was hosting this past weekend. but then the more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to go because getting wasted on a saturday night and possibly ending up in bed with anyone from that group did not sound like a fun time. plus you wanted to take a bath and watch netflix, have a little relaxing night. “still . . . sleeping with the enemy?”

you tuned out holly’s excuses, instead searching your bag for the flyers that you thought you had put in there that you printed in the library earlier. they weren’t there, you probably just forgot to take them and left them in the library by the printer. you groaned, excusing yourself from the group and walking out of the cafeteria.

your black dress shoes clanked against the smooth tile of the hallway. you anxiously pulled down your dark blue and black checkered skirt so that nothing you didn’t want showing was showing. the skirts were already short enough, which was a little sexist on the schools part, but it was your uniform. there was nothing that you could really do about it.

the library was unlocked, thank god. you turned the lights on and walked in, making your way to the back to the printers. once you got there you saw your flyers sitting there where they had been left by you in second period.

soft footsteps echoed closer to you and you turned around, seeing jacob walking over to the printers, phone in hand. suddenly the other printer next to you started up, signaling that he was printing something too. probably his own posters.

“hey y/n,” he greeted, glancing at you and then leaning against the table, fingers tapping against the wood.

you scoffed. “thrombey. following me?”

“no, I know this is going to be a dent in your little rich girl complex, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. i’m printing stuff for the rally,” he replied. of course he was.

jacob was running the donald trump campaign for the rally. making you hate him even more than you already did. the way that he acted like no one else in the world mattered except himself made you want to rip your hair out, and the fact that he had the audacity to act like you were the entitled one.

instead of getting political with him ( because that would be happening all day tomorrow ), you looked at him and said, “could you maybe stop fucking my friends?”

jacob looked at you quizzically. “what do you mean?”

“holly said you hooked up with her at that party, could you maybe not fuck my friends? or if you’re going to hook up with them at least stop hooking up with sophomores. i know they’re easy and can’t see how much of an asshole you are but seriously. gross,” you scoffed.

“are you jealous?”

you squinted at him. “no, i’m not fucking jealous. i just don’t want you to hook up with her again and then she comes crying to me because you wanted to do knife play or something.”

jacob only laughed, taking the pile of flyers that finished printing. “why do you think i’m such a sadist?”

“because we all know those hand marks on carissa’s neck last year weren’t just a coincidence after you hooked up with her.”

he didn’t answer, instead shrugging his shoulders and watching away. you sighed, realizing that you were never going to get him to listen to anything you said ever. he was too much of an ass, luckily soon enough you never would have to see him again after you graduate.

today was the day of the rally, and you were more than excited. the only problem was that you were stressed out of your mind trying to get everything set up in your large booth. everyone was either setting up the blue cookies that had been baked or getting the pins ready to hand out with sanders printed on them in large blue letters.

“where are the shirts?” you asked one of your helpers, giving her a condescending look. “don’t tell me you left them in mrs. prescott’s classroom.”

she had. fucking god.

you shook your head and turned on your heel, walking away from your booth and leaving someone else in charge while you were gone. you turned the corner and made your way into the big classroom.

“what the hell are you going here?” a male voice asked. it was jacob, who was looking in a box that had your name on it. it was the box with the shirts.

you walked over to where he was and grabbed the box away from him. “what are you doing with my shirts?”

“just looking, shitty design,” he said.

you scoffed. “you’re an ass you know that? no one actually likes you, you have no respect from anyone but your little meathead jocks.” you meant to get him mad, but the look he gave you realized that he was in a more angry mood than he usually is.

“you think you’re such a tough bitch,” jacob yelled at you, pushing you back with such force you felt your stomach drop. his hands came to your shoulders and pushed you again, until you were pressed all the way up against the wall. your shoulder blades dug against the cold concrete, back of your head hitting against it. “you think that you’re so fucking entitled,” he went on, his body capturing yours in a hold so you couldn’t squirm out.

your hands came to his chest, trying your best to push him away from him. his arms were pressed against the wall, still trapping you. in a leap of faith, you looked up into his piercing green eyes and gave him a smirk. “yeah? and what are you going to do about it, thrombey? teach me a lesson?”

a sadistic smile came across his face, which made you instinctively press your thighs together, realizing how wet you actually were just looking at him, just feeling how close he was to your body.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? for me to teach you a lesson, fuck you until you can’t stand,” he hissed, his head ducked down and pressed hot kisses against your neck. his teeth grazed along that sweet spot and you gasped, your hands now balling up into fists on his chest. jacob laughed against your neck, using his tongue to lick a clean stripe all the way up your neck to the edge of your jaw. “amazing how much of a needy bitch you actually are. not really that tough, are we?”

“fuck you,” you said in a weak voice, feeling his hips grind against your own. he laughed again at your weak attempts to savor the last bit of dignity you had left in you, even though your own body was betraying your mind. your brain was going haywire, not knowing if you were going to push him all the way off of you and leave, or if you were going to give into the temptation.

the latter ended up winning and you succumbed into his touch, pulling him by his shirt to kiss you. the second his lips landed on yours his tongue slipped into your mouth, fighting with your own and ultimately winning in the little power play you had going on with him.

he pulled off your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra and skirt that was being hiked up by his other hand. you worked aimlessly on his own clothing, pulling off the dark blue blazer and only being left with his white collared button up undershirt to be in between the skin of both of your chests. your hands came up to take off his tie and get the buttons undone, but his own hands grabbed your wrists, tutting condescendingly.

“that’s not how this is going to go, princess,” jacob said, pulling your hands to his belt of his black dress pants. “did you really think that i was going to let you be in control? i know that you’re a brat, but i didn’t think that you were dumb.”

you whined at his words, hating that his degrading words turned you on even more. his eyes motioned down to the ground and you quickly realized what he wanted. jacob stepped away from you enough to make you slink to your knees, hands still connected to the waistband of his pants.

deciding to play the brat card with him, you looked up at him and said, “what do you want me to do, jacob?” it was in the most innocent tone you had ever made in your life and the look that he gave you almost made you cum in your pants right then and there.

your hands came to palm him through his pants, keeping your eyes on him to see jacob’s head throw back with a low groan. his hands found their way to your hair, while you gave his growing bulge a light kiss. you continued to do this until his head came back to look down at you, hand moving to hold you by your jaw. “enough of this,” he spat, undoing his belt and watching as you unzipped his pants and pull them down to the ground. he took himself into his hands and pumped lazily a few times, until letting it rest on your closed lips.

precum wiped against your kiss swollen lips as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out, waiting for him to do anything. he tutted again, other hand gripping your hair, finally pushing his dick into your mouth. he went as far as he could, hitting the back of your throat and watching you gag around it. you didn’t let yourself gag too much though, just enough to get remotely comfortable as he stilled in your throat.

then he started moving your head up and down his cock, finding a steady rhythm that had you breathing in and out rapidly through your nose, spit dripping off his shaft and down your chin. the lewd noise that came out of your mouth made you moan, the vibrations enough to make him groan himself.

he pulled you off of him, spit falling and getting everywhere on your face. “at least your pretty while i face fuck you, unlike your little friend holly. she just kept gagging and choking, which was hot at first, then a little sad,” he mentioned, wiping some of the spit off your chin with his thumb.

you were about to talk to him again, until he was pushing right back into your mouth, to which you hollowed your cheeks out as much as you could to fit all of him in there.

the sounds of his noises sent pressure right to your core, and you needed to alleviate the hot pressure that was building. sneakily ( or what you thought was sneakily ), your hands came to play with your clit, making you groan out against his dick. this caught his attention, and he pulled all the way out of you to give you a frown.

“are you actually touching yourself without my permission?” he asked, his voice teasing you and making you feel like a little girl.

your eyes widened, feeling stupid from his words and scared about what he was going to do about you getting caught in the act. he was silent, only looking at you with those dark green eyes that made you squirm under his gaze. without speaking, he pulled off the tie he was wearing and grabbed your hands, pushing your wrists together behind you.

you couldn’t see what he was going to do until you felt the fabric bite into your skin, hearing the fabric fold into a tight knot. you tried to move your hands away from the tie and you couldn’t, they were tied together, unable to do anything. you were completely in his control now.

“i'm sorry jacob . . . please i want to touch you,” you whined, though your voice was breaking from him ruining your throat.

he just laughed. “no, you wanted to touch yourself. don’t lie y/n, or i’ll just keep you like this and make you watch me finish myself off.”

you hated that you found how cruel he was being hot, that it made you even more wet at the thought of him doing anything he wanted to you now that you were completely in his control.

“get up,” he ordered, grabbing you under your arms and helping you onto your feet. it took you a moment to steady yourself since you didn’t have much balance, though you weren’t standing for long when he pulled you over a few feet away and bent you over the closest desk. your chest pressed against the cold surface, he pushed your head down too, cheek against the wood.

he pulled you by the hair to hold you up, feeling his cock press up against you. “suck on these real quick for me princess,” jacob muttered, pushing two fingers into your mouth. you moaned against them, wiping your tongue all around them, letting your spit catch along his long digits. “good girl,” he praised, pulling them out of your mouth, pulling away your panties and inserting both of them into your aching hole.

you yelped at the sudden pleasure, but pushed your hips against his hand, feeling him pump them in and out over and over again at an unforgiving pace. “is this what you wanted? just to be touched by someone you claim you hate,” his fingers pulled out of you, his hand landing to steady your hips.

you heard him fumble a little bit, pushing into you after a few seconds went by. he was so big, and didn’t waste any time to let you adjust. when he bottomed out, he pulled all the way out and then back in roughly. you clenched around him, gasping breath in and out in a desperate attempt to adjust to him.

even though he was going at an already fast pace, you could tell he was holding back. so you smirked, saying, “you said you’d fuck me till i can’t stand, but here i am standing.” jacob laughed, pulling you up by the hair again. you felt his hot breath fan against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “whatever you say.”

his hips began rutting against you at an unbelievable pace, making you almost scream, head still being held up only by his hand in your hair. his lips kissed the skin below your ear, all the way down to the back of your neck, making you shiver and lean into his touch.

your legs were already feeling tired, especially since your hands were still tied behind you by his tie and you couldn’t use them to hold yourself up. you felt like a limp rag doll against the desk while he pounded relentlessly into you.

you were already so worked up that you knew you weren’t going to last very long, and surprisingly enough the way that the edge of the desk was digging into your hip bones the more you reached closer and closer to that edge.

“fuck jacob i’m going to cum,” you yelled out, fingernails clenching into the palms of your hands. “please, please let me cum.”

“well since you asked so nicely,” jacob said. “cum then.”

you yelped out, squeezing around him and hitting your high like hitting a hard brick wall. the impact of him still rutting relentlessly and animal like into you made it hard for you to stand, riding out your high. his arm came to wrap around your waist, holding you against the desk while he chased his own high.

the sensitivity you felt was enough to make your eyes water. jacob was not that far behind you though, giving you one last good thrust then spilling inside of you. you felt the cum enter you and fill you up, and when he pulled out you felt the liquid run down your inner thighs.

the sounds of each of your breaths filled the room. your wrists were undone and you leaned against the desk, turning around and looking at them. there were deep purple bruises in a ring along them, and you knew those were going to be impossible to cover up with makeup to make your skin look natural.

each of you were silent while he got dressed and you cleaned him off of your thighs with a kleenex, getting dressed yourself. until you said, “you’re lucky i’m on birth control, asshole. you didn’t even ask me if you could come inside.”

“I figured you were, seemed like you,” he retorted.

“you’re still unbelievable,” you answered, deciding to pin up your hair because there was no way you would be able to make it look normal while it was down.

jacob tied his tie and gave himself a once over. “yeah, and you’re still a brat. see you at the rally, hopefully your voice recovers or else you’ll have to explain to all of your liberal bitches about how you got on your knees for me.”

asshole.

#jacob thrombey #jacob thrombey x reader #jacob thrombey smut #jacob thrombey imagine #knives out #knives out imagine

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years ago

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Fifteen

PART 1:

A/N: This is the first series I’m planning on writing. It should be about 17 parts in total when it’s done. The idea is based on one of my favorite books Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler! Seasons 6-9 Reid, and Maeve erasure. Also this gif is so perfect creds to the creator. Enjoy & I’d love any requests/feedback! :)

Tw: mention of vomiting

Word count: 1135

Spencer left Hotch’s office and paced past his own desk, mulling over what his boss had just told him. He told him that Y/N had transferred out of the BAU to head up the Seattle field office, effective immediately. His heart sank into his stomach. Was it really that bad between the two of you that you had to leave? Surely you couldn’t leave the whole team that easily, but you had. And you wanted to be as far away from him as possible, Hotch had basically said so himself. Everyone knew you had your pick of places to go; New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, even other units at Quantico. But you picked Seattle. Seattle. Which is 2,789.1 miles from Quantico. 2,789.1 miles from him.

You both knew it may come to this, but you were confident your relationship would work out. Hotch told the two of you what would happen if the romance went sour when you put in a relationship form three long years ago. He said he didn’t care, he hoped you guys were happy, but if it interfered with work someone would have to leave. Spencer never thought one of you would ever leave the other in any capacity. But maybe that was wishful thinking and his abandonment issues talking. He thought that even if your romantic relationship didn’t work, your friendship still would. But here he was, and you were gone.

He blinked away the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes, finally noticing the cardboard box on his desk. It was one of those boxes printer paper came in, with the lid and bright colors on the side. The lid said a few words in big black sharpie: TO SSA SPENCER REID

He smirked, you hated calling him doctor. You insisted that SSA was cooler than doctor anyways, and he should be proud of his achievements. “A lot of people are doctors, but not everyone is a Supervisory Special Agent.” He could practically hear you saying it now.

Without even thinking twice, he gingerly took the lid off and saw a stack of envelopes on the top which covered the rest of the box’s contents. The top envelope said ‘Spencer’ on the front in your very familiar handwriting. He held it in his hands like it was a piece of glass, so fragile, the same way he used to hold you. Immediately, he took a letter opener and sliced open the top, revealing a sheet of notebook paper. He took a deep breath and flopped into his desk chair, ignoring the questioning look Morgan gave him. He started reading page one. He knew he could finish the whole letter in a few minutes because he could read so damn fast, but instead, he went one word at a time, not wanting your last words to him to be over that quickly. He wanted to savor it. The first envelope addressed to him contained a letter that was short and rushed. You had just written it, the tear stains on the ink looked fresh and still wet.

“Spencer,

First and foremost, I’m sorry. I know Hotch just talked to you. I saw him take you in and used that as my opportunity to leave this here for you. In this box is everything from the last three years of our lives. I know you can read this whole thing in five minutes, Genius, but take it slow. Please, for me. And no this isn’t just a box of your tee shirts and gifts to me, this box holds so much more than that. What can I say? I’m sentimental. There’s a few rules though Spence, and I know you’ll follow them because you’re you:

1. Each letter is numbered corresponding with an item. When I mention something, take it out of the box and look at it, appreciate it, and remember it.(Even though I know you remember everything I ever said to you, Mr. Eidetic Memory) If I ask you to do something with it or drive somewhere, do that too. So maybe take the rest of today and tomorrow to go through it all.

2. Don’t start this in the bullpen. I know it’s tempting, but I don’t want Anderson and everyone else seeing what’s in here. It’s personal, for both of us.

3. Don’t reach out and don’t try to stop me. Seattle is far. I know, but I’m leaving. Don’t chase me, and don’t send Derek to chase me. We both deserve to move on.

I’m sorry Spencer. I am. I am so sorry. I hate to leave you like this, with a letter. Leave you just like Gideon. Just like your dad did. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for being exactly like everyone else who left you. But let’s be honest here, you left me a long time before I left you. I can’t do this in person, it hurts too much. It’s too raw. But, I need you to get the whole story from me. This is our love story and our breakup story told in 15 lucky items that mean the most to me us.

Oh, and one last rule:

Always remember that I love you and I mean it.

xo,

Y/N”

He read the same page over and over again, pouring over every word. He had to take deep breaths to avoid melting down in front of an office full of people. He looked around desperately for you. Maybe you hadn’t gotten in the elevator yet. Maybe you stuck around to see the kicked puppy look on his face when he opened the box. But you hadn’t, you were already gone. Just like you said you would be.

He read page 1 again. It was written in blue ink, which usually means the writer is sensitive, peaceful and enjoys order and organization.They are the helpers and the doers of the world. He silently scolded himself for trying to profile the letter, he already knew all of these things about you. He knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. Maybe the blue ink meant something or maybe it was just the pen you grabbed. He shoved the page back in the envelope and put the lid on the box. He didn’t want to peek and ruin the rest of the surprise. He was half excited and half terrified of what the rest of the letters would tell him.

Spencer avoided Derek and JJ’s concerned glances as he hurriedly packed his messenger back and grabbed the box. It was heavier than he expected. The items weren’t necessarily heavy, it was the feeling that was heavy. The feeling that everything from 1245 days of your lives were condensed into fifteen objects. 3.4 years; 1245 days; 1,792,800 minutes; 107,568,000 seconds into fifteen things. He suddenly felt like vomiting, but luckily he was already in the parking lot. He didn’t know how he got there so quickly, but his head was spinning and he emptied his stomach next to his car before getting in and driving home.

Part 2!

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #fanfic #mgg fanfiction #fanfiction #reid #reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm #spencer reid smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.1

Of Muffins, Cheeky Vigilantes and Sad Interns

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 3130

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.

You stared at the two unconscious men at his feet, still perfectly shocked but relieved, pressing your handbag to your chest.

You were slowly leaving your place by the wall – more like in the wall, because you had been trying to merge with it even since the two men had backed you into it, pulling out their knives and demanding your handbag. That had been before this guy had appeared and put them in a line – and you were pretty sure he put some of their bones out of their natural line, but you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“You… thank you. How— you… saved my life,” you stuttered, watching the man in a black mask wince as if he only now realized you were there.

“You’re welcome,” he said, voice pleasantly low-pitched, looking in your direction. “Though I’m not sure it would go that far if you have just given him your handbag.”

“Well, I couldn’t do that,” you retorted, automatically drawing the item closer to your chest.

He took two cautious steps to you, easing his fighting stance. “I know it would be a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy, but for future reference, it would be much better if you just gave it up.”

“I couldn’t. There’s a… there’s a secret recipe.”

“… a recipe. You… couldn’t have let go of your handbag because of a recipe. You’re joking,” he stated, and the little of his face you could see, free of the fabric of his mask, seemed shocked. And maybe a little amused. How would you know, you could only see his jaw. And lips – their corners were quirked inconspicuously, so yeah, definitely amused.

Well, at least you made him smile since he had saved you and all.

“It’s important! There’s this guy in my work and— never mind. Forget I said anything. I mean… beside the thank you. Wow, babbling is not my usual reaction to stress.”

“Well, if that makes you feel better I don’t usually chat with people I help out,” he said with a shrug, making you raise your eyebrows.

“So why do you now?” Not that I complain.

He shrugged again, coming a little closer again. “Nowhere to be. And you seem fun.”

Huh. Who would think a guy in a mask, lurking in a dark, would be such a nice person? He seemed genuine. You had no idea where he picked up the idea of you being fun, but you guessed he didn’t meet women protecting their handbags for recipes of all thing every night. Did he do that every night? Was that a thing?

You shook off the thoughts. “…thanks, I guess?”

“So, guy at work?” He smiled suggestively, clearly teasing you. You just gaped.

“Oh my god, I’m not talking about that with… with a masked guy! And… and it’s not like that,” you protested, questioning your own claim. Maybe?

“Really? So why that blush?”

You quickly checked you cheeks with your hand. “I don’t-“ You never blushed. You doubted you were now and your cheeks felt just normal-- that little shit. “You know, for a guy who lurks in a dark, you are sure pretty cocky.”

And for a near assault victim, I am pretty chatty and easy-going.

“People also say I’m a good listener,” he offered nonchalantly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You were not doing this, right? You wouldn’t just load that on a complete stranger? Then again, he was a complete stranger, so he couldn’t tell anyone who knew you. Mmm...

“…it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, he’s… handsome, but-- he’s… I barely know him, but he’s just really nice, you know? Like…” You licked your lips, finally letting the handbag rest on its usual place. “The kind of guy who would help you to pick up your stuff, even if he wasn’t be the one who ran into you. And the other day, I saw his telling a joke to someone who seemed down, but usually is a bitch to him. He’s the guy who would hold the elevator for you. Just… really nice. And lately… he seemed down himself. Not even his friend can cheer him up. So… yeah.”

“So… you decided to… cook something for him. For this… nice guy,” he summed up your monologue, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah. My friend met me at the bar and gave up her secret recipe for the best muffins in the world. I already bought the ingredients, guessing, but I didn’t pick up on the vanilla beans.”¨

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saving his life,” you said, giving him a significant look.

Why were you smiling? You just almost got mugged! And you were chatting with a man who just broke someone’s bones! To be fair, he was really likeable. Had called you fun and nice. Not something you were used to.

“He could be depressed. So maybe you are.”

You couldn’t but smile wider. “Maybe. Though he probably gets bagels every morning… never mind. …And you know what, you are a good listener. But I should go. Got work to do.”

“Sure. Good luck with your… baking,” he wished you, grinning like a goddamn child. Was it really so amusing?

“If I have some spares, I’ll leave them on the rooftop for you,” you decided, freezing after you realized what you said. “A random rooftop! I wouldn’t want a masked guy to know where I live.”

He laughed. He honest to god laughed. “Of course. Go, I’ll call the police to pick those guys up.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

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You barely managed to sneak into the interns’ office – office? More like a closet – and make it out before they appeared behind a corner. These two guys started there recently, but you instantly liked them. The one with blond hair was smiling most of the time, a cheery smile that made you smile back even when you were busy and nearly harassed by your boss a minute before; the other one, the dark-haired one, had a gentler smile, a warming one – and you hadn’t seen much of it lately. If you were honest, you thought his idealism was being crushed; he was incredibly nice and polite to everyone as far as you saw him interact with people and you were sure that a firm like Landman and Zack wasn’t a place for his fragile soul-- and now you were just projecting.

The pair fell into their closet office and you released the breath you were holding. You resisted the urge to listen in with your ear at the door. It turned out, you didn’t have to; most of the offices were empty due to the lunch break and the blond man – okay, yeah, you heard him introduce himself as Foggy, which was ridiculous, but kinda cute – was very loud.

“Matt, a muffin.”

You bit your lip, a little nervous about not hearing Matt’s reaction.

“Matt, I swear to God, there is a muffin on your table. With a note on a toothpick in it and it says— oh. That’s just mean. Why would someone give a muffin on your desk only to tempt you?” Foggy sounded bewildered and a little hurt on the behalf of his friend.

You giggled into your palm. You had left a written note saying: ‘Don’t you dare to touch it, you, who are reading this.’

The trick was in leaving one more note – in braille. ‘Feel better and be happy. The offices are too dark without your smile. Enjoy.’

Which was an idiotic lie, because the offices were all glass and steel, having too much light most of the time, but the message was clear, you hoped. Not to mention Matt wouldn’t be able to tell. Because he was… well, blind. Which meant he couldn’t read the note not directed at him, but could read his own.

You sneaked from your office, coming a little closer, listening in.

“Dude, your face. Why do I have the feeling the braille version says something different?”

You smiled for yourself, hoping to cause at least a little rise of Matt’s lips while he was reading his personal note (it was a bitch to use the braille printer without no one noticing, okay, you were kinda proud of yourself). His response was quieter, but you pricked your ears and heard it.

“Because it does.”

Later, you were trying hard not to stare too blatantly when they passed your office, but you caught a glimpse anyway. Matt was smiling. Brightly.

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“This is so stupid, I’m crazy, I’m the craziest person to ever walk this Earth…” you were muttering as you laid a plate with two muffins in the middle of the rooftop. “If anyone’s gonna eat it, it’s gonna be Frank from 2B when coming to have a smoke. Or pigeons…”

“Did the nice guy liked his muffin?” sounded a voice from behind you and you jumped ten feet above— well, not. You literally fell on your ass, yelping in shock, your hand trying to keep your heart inside your ribcage. “Hey, easy there.”

You spun slowly to the source of the pleasant male voice, only to find a man dressed in nothing but black. With a mask on, naturally.

“Not sure. Maybe I just helped him to have a heart attack sooner. But I can ask him if he’s looking for one and refer him to you,” you complained, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, easing your hand down.

Jesus.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered you a gloved hand to help you up. But it was a warm night and forgetting the fact your pants would be no doubt terribly dirty from the concrete, you were actually fine sitting there. You patted on the other side of the plate instead. He hesitated.

“For some reason I don’t believe you,” you exclaimed darkly. “I’m not sure you deserve these…”

“They’re really for me?”

A shy smile appeared on his lips – you really needed to stop focusing on people’s lips, it was creepy, but to be fair, this guy wasn’t offering many things to go on and staring at his body tightly wrapped in black probably wasn’t much better. He lowered himself elegantly, sitting down on the offered place.

“I figured that you might appreciate it and you’ll burn the calories easily. And since I baked six of these…”

“Thanks.” He tentatively took off his gloves, reaching for one of the muffins. He took a bite.

You blinked in surprise at his trust. “They could be poisoned.”

He froze. “You wouldn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“No one who bakes a muffin just to cheer up a guy they barely know would try to poison me,” he reasoned, his confidence almost unshaken.

“I could have just made the story up. Or bake two batches, poison one of them and lay a trap.”

He frowned, taking another bite easily. “That sounds like an awfully lot of work, considering pigeons might have eaten this. Or Frank from 2B.”

“You— you heard that?” you asked, surprised.

“I have good ears. And taste buds. This is really good.”

“I’m glad. Maybe one day I can quit my soul-crushing job, steal all of my friend’s recipes and open a bakery. The Hell’s Bakery… in Hell’s Kitchen.”

He chuckled, the sound so light that it made you wonder how the hell this guy was a vigilante. Should he be like… dark and broody? I am batman, I’m the night?

“I would be a regular. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he finished the muffin and licked his thumb.

“He’s a lucky guy, you know. Having you to look out for him,” he offered casually.

“I told you, it’s not like that…” you repeated, though you were less and less convinced it was the truth. “…and he doesn’t know it was me.”

“You didn’t give it to him?” he sounded shocked. You thought he might have raised his eyebrows. “Just leaving it? Why?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want him to feel… obligated to be grateful or something. Plus, me noticing he’s smiling less than usual? It’s a little creepy, I imagine. It’s better if I stay anonymous.”

“Huh. You really weren’t trying to… get his attention, were you?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Was it really that strange? “Why? Not your type? Have eyes on someone else?”

“Not my type…” you repeated lowly. “I think he’s everybody’s type.” He tilted his head curiously. “I don’t.”

“But?”

“But nothing. He’s… he’s him. I bet he has someone. He has this whole…” you gestured vaguely with your hands as if it could mean something. It did. To you. “…charming, take-me-home aura.”

“Take-me-home aura?” he parroted, bewildered.

“It’s hard to-“ you stopped in the middle of the sentence, realizing the absurdity of the situation. Muffins. Late night. Dim lights. Boy problems. “Oh god, I’m having a slumber party with a vigilante on a rooftop. I really am crazy.”

“Do you want to braid hair?” he suggested with that boyish grin you remembered from yesterday. “I’m no good at painting nails, but I rock at braiding.”

You looked at him incredulously, watching him for what could be a minute. Then you burst out laughing.

“I believe you. But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’m very picky about who I let touch my hair.”

“Uh-huh Okay. What does take-me-home aura mean? Take home and..?”

“And snuggle him…” you hummed, thoughtful. “Or rip his clothes off, sometimes it’s hard to decide. Probably both in the right order.”

“Oh.”

You burst out laughing once more when seeing him so taken aback. Well, you thought he looked taken aback.

“Oh god, you look so spooked. I’m not gonna do that to you, or him. Have a muffin.”

He pouted, but relaxed and reached for his comfort food. “I’m not… spooked. It’s just… why don’t you?”

“Because I’m pretty sure dragging someone into my home and ripping their clothes off is a crime,” you emphasized, even though the irony was lost on this guy, since he was acting outside the law. Matt, on the other hand… was a lawyer.

“You could just ask him out.”

The smile froze on your lips. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, right. I forgot you don’t know me very well and you don’t know whom I’m talking about. He’s… like… waaaay out of my league. Professionally speaking – one day, I’m sure – and with his looks too.”

He nibbled his muffin, looking thoughtful. It was incredibly cute. “You said he was nice. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn you down.”

“A pity date. Yay for me.”

“…you don’t have very high opinion of yourself, do you?”

You shrugged. “I’m a realist.”

He set his muffin down, turning to you with his whole body. “I don’t have many references to your looks, since we’re meeting at night, but you seem like a great person and… I really don’t talk with people much. Not at all, if I can help it. But you’re easy to talk too. Even if it was a pity date, I’m sure he would have a good time. And maybe you would find out he’s just a guy and forget there are some… leagues or whatever,” he mimicked, sounding a little disgusted. He picked his muffin back, possibly to drown the bitterness of the word league.

Oh my god, how was this guy even real? There was no way he was not chatting with all victims of crime he saved.

“Thanks— what do I call you? Give me something. I don’t expect your real name, secret identities and all, but… something.”

“Huh. I don’t know. Uhm…”

“If you don’t come up with something, I will,” you threatened, your mind racing. He would either have a terrible name, compensating with a nickname, or a plain name no one would look twice at.

“Go for it,” he challenged, licking the remains of chocolate of his lips. You observed him for a minute, wondering.

“Mm. Alright. Thank you for your encouraging words… Clark.”

“Clark? Like… Clark Kent?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, grinning. “Hero. Secret identity. Ripped. Sweet. Yeah, you’re Clark… you’re not wearing glasses to work, are you? Are you trying to look awkward, or better yet invisible? Unnoticed? Are you a journalist?” you asked quickly to cover up the fact you blatantly told him he had hot body.

“I’m not a journalist,” he said slowly, looking a bit alarmed. Though he didn’t deny the rest.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop prying. But thanks. It’s… really sweet of you, but… I guess I’m too chicken to ask him out.”

The sentence lied heavily between you for few moments.

“…what if he asked you?”

You snorted. “Right. He doesn’t even know I exist, Clark. Doesn’t know my name.”

“Neither do I. And look at us, sitting on a rooftop, talking about boys.”

This time you laughed. “You just wriggled your eyebrows, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he played along mysteriously, before his smile softened. “Can I have your name?”

“Well, I guess there’s no point in denying you now know where I live, so a name wouldn’t add much. But you know what? I picked yours. Pick mine.”

“…okay. Nice to meet you… Lois.” He extended his hand towards you, making your breath hitch.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” You shook his hand, swallowing the nervousness his choice left you in. The love interest? “Though I’m more of a Jimmy Olsen, don’t you think?” The friend.

He tensed, jerking to his feet, crouching, his head tilted. You almost had another heart attack at the sudden movement.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry. There’s… an assault a mugging in progress. But-“ he turned to you, his tense features softening a little, leaning into your space. “I chose the name on purpose.”

Then his freaking lips brushed your temple and he jogged away, jumping-- jumping off the roof. You flied to your feet as well, running after him, checking he wasn’t a bloody smudge on the pavement. He wasn’t. You saw only a shadow several rooftops over. You brought you hand to the place his lips touched your skin, still shocked.

What the actual hell?

You stood on the rooftop for a very long time, staring at the city lights, still trying to process that Clark had… pecked your temple. When you finally made it inside, you couldn’t fall asleep. After an hour of staring into the ceiling, you got up and… baked. Not wanting to bake the same stuff again, you improvised. You added cocoa powder, switched milk chocolate for dark and added some cherries you had bought the other day, hoping for an acceptable outcome.

When you had one of the muffins for breakfast, you came to conclusion it wasn’t half bad, packing one for lunch, counting on a zero lunch-break again. It turned out it was a good idea.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Part 2

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

I know there aren’t many Matt readers with me here, but someone might like it ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfiction #mcu #matt murdock fanfic #reader insert #matt murdock imagine #fluff #of muffins coffee and other miracles #anika ann

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