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fanartandfanfiction · 10 months ago

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HUMBLE

A charlastor fic

Chapter two: Elephant in the room

Alastor’s reception is…mixed. No one quite knows how to interact with him. The princess, however, doesn’t seem to give a shit.

————— -

Alastor was standing in the kitchen preparing the jambalaya and could sense the little moth girl hovering. “It’s impolite to stare.”

Vaggie came into the kitchen with her arms crossed. “I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t trust you.”

“A wise decision, really.” He hummed as he chopped ingredients.

“Charlie may have decided to let you stay, but just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

“You only have one, dear, I’m sure you can find something MUCH more interesting to watch.”

The girl muttered something in Spanish and left. Good.

Apparently he couldn’t be left alone in the kitchen, which was ironic, since he was literally holding a knife. “Yes, dear?”

“Oh! Hi!” Charlie waved and looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just coming to see what smelled so good. I kind of thought you were joking when you said you were going to make jambalaya.”

“Oh I’d NEVER joke about jambalaya, doll.” He winked at her.

“What…exactly is it?”

He gave her a surprised smile. “You’ve never had it?”

“No, I mean, I was born here. I’ve never really gotten to try different foods.”

“My dear, you are truly missing out! I’ll have to prepare some other dishes for you to sample sometime.” He waved her closer and she stepped forward, looking unsure. “The main ingredient is rice. Then you throw all sorts of tasty things in there, sausage and chicken, all sorts of spices…everybody makes it differently. My mother liked an extra kick, so she’d add a splash of tobasco.”

“I suck at cooking. Vaggie said I can burn water.” He was surprised when she hopped up onto the counter and sat. She looked at him with a small smile. “Can you keep a secret?”

“I’m excellent at them!”

“This is my emergency cookie stash. I have to hide them or Angel eats all my Oreos.” She reached up under the cabinet and pressed a hidden button, dropping down a compartment. “Vaggie does too. As my new business partner, you are entitled to secret emergency cookies, so long as you keep them a secret.” She opened a bag and popped a cookie into her mouth.

Alastor’s smile was genuine. What an odd girl. “You don’t have to worry about me, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” He stirred the jambalaya and looked back at her. “What constitutes a cookie emergency?”

“Well…getting into a fight with a news anchor on live tv, for starters.” She popped another cookie into her mouth.

“Do that sort of thing often, doll?”

“No. And I hate that I did. I’m usually more in control of my anger. I have to be.”

“Why’s that?” Now he could begin to pry.

“I know I don’t look like it, but when I go into full demon or even partial demon mode…I can’t control it. I’m super strong and shoot fire and it’s just a reeeeally bad time.”

“On the contrary! I think that sounds like a DELIGHTFUL time!” He grinned.

“You would.” She chuckled. “Don’t think I haven’t heard the stories.”

“I should hope so! I have a reputation to uphold.” He abandoned the pot and came to stand in front of her, closer than necessary and with an unnerving smile. How he LOVED making other people squirm. The princess, however, was unbothered. She looked up at him in surprise as she ate another cookie. “Do you fear me, Charlotte?” He asked with a crackle in his voice.

He was completely unprepared for her response. She SHRUGGED. “Like you said, if you were going to hurt us, you would’ve done it by now. And if you DO decide to kill us, it won’t really be my problem anymore.”

“Then why’d you slam the door in my face?” He smirked.

“Because you were literally the last person I would ever expect to be at my doorstep. Also I was very confused, so I opened the door again to make sure. And I couldn’t think of a single reason you’d be here other than to kill me or wreck the hotel.”

“Nonsense! I have no desire to kill you, dear! Why would I?”

She shrugged again. “A power move. Happens pretty often, actually.”

“People trying to kill you?”

“Kill me, kidnap me, plenty of other things…” she looked utterly bored as she rattled off the list. “But I can take care of myself.”

“And what, dear Charlotte, do you do to your foes?” He was still standing in front of her. He liked to rattle people by invading their personal space. She was unbothered.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She smirked.

Alastor’s ears twitched. “Hide your cookies, doll.”

Charlotte shoved the cookies behind her just as the kitchen door opened. Angel walked in and looked surprised to see the pair. “Am I interrupting ?”

Charlie was suddenly very aware of how close Alastor was.

Charlie laughed uncomfortably. “No, not at all! I was just pestering Al with cooking questions.”

Angel looked genuinely frightened. “Oh no. Tell me you ain’t trying to cook again.”

“I might! I should really learn.”

“That you’re a hazard in the kitchen? Because I agree.”

“Don’t try to distract me. I’m still mad at you.” Charlie glared. Well, Charlie’s equivalent of a glare.

“Whaaaat? Come on, I was just lettin’ off a little steam!”

“By participating in a turf war?!”

“You won’t let me do drugs! And besides, I ain’t the only one that fucked up today.”

Alastor saw the flash of hurt across her face. “I know. I probably ruined everything. Who’d want to come to the hotel after that?” She jumped as Alastor’s hand waved right in front of her.

“Forget about me already, sweetheart? Your fiasco on the picture show is WHY I came here.” He pinched her cheek and smiled.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re her target audience. Call me when dinner is ready.” He left the kitchen and Charlie looked upset with herself. She was startled as he shoved a cookie in her mouth, then patted her head before returning to the jambalaya.

The dinner table was silent. Vaggie glared at Alastor, who simply smiled in return. Charlie glared at Angel, who was absorbed in his phone. And Husk glared at everyone. Nifty had declined to join them for dinner.

“Soooooo. We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Angel asked, finally looking away from his phone. “Charlie kickin’ that news bitch’s ass and setting that Tom guy on fire?”

“I lost my temper.” Charlie focused on her food.

“THAT’S an understatement.”

“If you hadn’t been literally in the middle of a fucking turf war while she was talking about your rehabilitation, it wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand!” Vaggie snapped.

“Certainly we can find something better to talk about over dinner! Tell me about your grand plans for the hotel, Charlotte.” Alastor gave her a winning smile.

Charlie launched into a long winded speech while the moth girl continued to stare him down. He sent his shadow behind her and made it flick her in the head. “Hey!” She glared. Alastor just smirked.

When they finished eating, Charlie smiled brightly. “Let’s all thank Alastor for preparing such a delicious meal for everyone! And I know that with all of your help, tomorrow will be a happy day in hell!”

“Whatever. I’m going to my room.” Angel left and Vaggie approached Charlie.

“Do you want to do something tonight? Take your mind off what happened?”

“Thank you, Vaggie, but I’m going to wash these dishes and go to bed.”

“Nifty can wash those for you, dear!” Alastor appeared beside her. “The princess of hell shouldn’t be washing dishes.”

“I do a lot of things a princess shouldn’t be doing. And I like washing the dishes.”

“At least allow me to take them to the kitchen for you.” He summoned all the dishes and held the door open for Charlie. She thanked him and headed to the sink. He smiled brightly at Vaggie, who scowled as the door closed.

Charlie liked washing dishes, it was kind of relaxing. She turned her mind off and focused on the warm water and the bubbles. She was in her own little world when Alastor popped up beside her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“FUCK!” She dropped the dish she’d been holding and it shattered in the sink.

“Apologies.” He snapped his fingers and repaired the dish.

“No, it’s alright, I was in my own little world.”

“I know, I watched you wash the same dish three times. I figured someone oughta wake you up.” He stood beside her and picked up a dish towel and began drying. “You need an ear, sweetheart?”

Charlie wasn’t sure she could trust him. She’d JUST met him, she wasn’t about to bare her heart. She decided to just keep it vague. “Sometimes it’s hard knowing even the people I care about don’t believe in me.”

“Well of course they don’t! Your dream is ridiculous!” He grinned and Charlie glared at him. “Luckily, it doesn’t matter one bit if anyone else believes in it. Do you believe in your dream, Charlie girl?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He noticed she was nearly out of dishes and would use the opportunity to dodge the talk. He silently added a few of the clean dishes back into the water with his magic.

“It’s just discouraging. Knowing that no one takes you seriously and is just waiting for you to fail. It makes my dream seem even more distant, because I’m alone.” She’d said the words out loud she did not intend to say. Her eyes were as wide as the plates she was washing and she was frozen in place. Alastor simply plucked the dish she’d been holding and began to dry.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re not alone. I intend to stay here beside you whether this place succeeds or fails! Personally I’m hoping for the latter, as it’s MUCH more entertaining.”

Charlie stared up at him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“I still don’t know why you’re here.”

“I told you, doll! Boredom!”

“And you could entertain yourself in any of the nine circles you pleased. There’s much more entertainment than running a little hotel.” Her ruby eyes were fixed on his. Impressive! Most avoided eye contact with the radio demon.

Perhaps she wasn’t as naive as he thought. He was just going to change tactics and put all his cards on the table. “You want a straight answer? I’m here because of you, Charlie Morningstar. Because I’m somewhat FASCINATED by you. You are the daughter of the KING of hell, you have to be incredibly powerful. Yet I watched you on the news getting your blonde patootie kicked. You could’ve destroyed that woman with a snap of your fingers. Why didn’t you?” He cocked his head in the way that made people cringe.

“Because I didn’t want to.” Charlie shrugged.

“But WHY?”

“I didn’t actually want to hurt her.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Charlie huffed and looked up at him. He could see a spark in her eyes.

“Because everyone here has been hurt enough. I won’t contribute to it. I don’t enjoy hurting other people. I want to help them. I was born here, I’ll be here my entire life, and I guess I’ll eventually die here. But these people, MY people are human souls. People that laughed and danced and had families, watched the sunset…They messed up when they were alive. But does that mean their souls should be tormented for all of their afterlife? Who HASN’T fucked up and wished they could change it? And sure, I know some of them wouldn’t change a thing, because they don’t regret the things they did one bit. But there are others, people like Angel, who had a shitty life and did some things he’s not proud of. Why should he suffer for all of eternity? So no, I won’t hurt people. I don’t want to own any souls. I want to give people hope, and that’s something they don’t have here.”

Alastor just stared at her. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, he just patted her head and went back to drying.

“I’m not a puppy.” She scowled.

“But look at those big puppy dog eyes of yours!” He grinned. She had now picked up the same dish for the fourth time. He wondered how many times he could get away with it.

“You don’t have to dry, you know. You and I both could clean this up in an instant.”

“Yep!” He put the dish back for the fifth time, his grin growing wider.

“So tell me- ALASTOR!” She finally caught on and glared at him while he cackled. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” The little demon belle glared up at him, hands on her hips.

“Oh I’m hilarious, doll! I was curious to see how many times I could get you to wash the same dish. That was number five, by the way.”

“You’re such an ass.” She rolled her eyes but he saw the hint of a smile on her face. “What I was GOING to say, was to tell me if you needed anything or had any questions. I’ll give you my cell number, it’s-“ she jumped at the loud crackling that came from him.

“I don’t fool with those ridiculous contraptions.”

“What, a phone? Did you not have a phone when you were alive? Were they not invented yet?”

“I’m not THAT old, dear. I’ve used a telephone. But that THING is a soulless machine that sucks the life out of those that fall victim to them, staring at their little screens for hours and hours, rotting their minds and feeding the INSATIABLE MACHINE!.”

His antlers had grown and his eyes glowed red.

Charlie laughed. She LAUGHED at him. He was so stunned that he immediately shifted back into his regular form. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I thought I was the only one around here with a flair for the dramatics!” She giggled.

“I wasn’t being dramatic!”

“Oh you were DEFINITELY being dramatic. It’s a cellphone, a little rectangle. If I touch you with it, will you burn like a vampire?” She grinned and moved to touch him with the phone when his hand shot out and held her wrist in place.

“ I don’t like to be touched.” He gave her a grin that he knew was particularly frightening.

“Why?” She asked with a smile.

“Because I don’t!”

“That still doesn’t answer my questiiiion!” She repeated his own words back to him.

A genuine grin took over his face then. It had been a long time since he’d had witty banter with anyone. Most were either too scared to be around him (good) or too stupid to hold his attention.

“Touché, Charlotte.”

“You wanna let me go now?”

He realized with a shock that he was still holding her wrist. He dropped it like it burnt him and stepped back. “Apologies. I think I’ll retire for the night. See you in the morning!” And then he was gone. He appeared in his room and sat on the edge of his bed. Perhaps this would be more challenging than he thought. He’d assumed she was a little blonde airhead like everyone else. But he should know better than to underestimate the devil’s daughter.

Charlie sat at her vanity table and brushed out her ridiculous amount of hair. It was always such a chore, but she didn’t mind. What an awful day. She hoped she’d made the right choice in partnering with the radio demon. He didn’t seem to be anything like he’d been described. In the kitchen he’d been almost playful. It was weird. She sighed and checked her phone, on the off chance she’d missed a call from her mother.

She hadn’t.

She always felt a little better when she sang, so as she brushed her hair she sang one of her favorite songs. She didn’t want to disturb the other residents, so she sang softly to herself.

“ The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

Bet your bottom dollar

That tomorrow there'll be sun

Just thinkin' about

Tomorrow

Clears away the cobwebs

And the sorrow 'til there's none!”

Alastor’s ears twitched. What was that? Was someone singing? He opened his door and the song was louder.

“When I'm stuck with a day

That's gray and lonely

I just stick out my chin

And grin and say, oh

The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

So ya gotta hang on

'Til tomorrow come what may.”

For such cheerful lyrics, it was a hauntingly beautiful song when she sang it. It was slow and sad and so…unusual for her. The princess was quite talented indeed. He stood in his doorway and kept listening. His curiosity was killing him, so he sent his shadow to see what she was up to. He pictured her standing in the middle of the room singing with a smile on her face. He was shocked with what he was actually met with.

The princess was in a black silky nightgown and was sitting at a lighted table. She was brushing her ridiculous amount of hair and singing. He was about to call his shadow back until he noticed something else.

She had tears running freely down her cheeks as she sang in her delicate voice.

“ Tomorrow, tomorrow

I love ya tomorrow

You're always, a day away

The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

So ya gotta hang on

'Til tomorrow come what may

Tomorrow, tomorrow

I love ya tomorrow

You’re always a day away!”

Charlie looked at herself in the mirror and sniffed. She looked pathetic. Her eyes widened as she swore she saw something move behind her in the mirror, but when she looked again she didn’t see anything. She figured she was just tired. It had been a long day.

Well that was just downright depressing! Charlie was known for her obnoxiously happy persona, always a ball of energy and sunshine. That was a stark difference from the Charlie he’d just seen.

But he felt like he saw the real one.

#fanfic #hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor x charlie #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction

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ohmykazuha · 3 years ago

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I would pay you real world money for short Dainsleif fluff. Anything fall themed I'd give u all of my money /sobs <3

♡ 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

♡ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dainsleif x gn!reader

♡ ��𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff <3

♡ 𝐚/𝐧: and this one's free because i love you and you're a wonderful human being. here's baking fall treats and wearing turtlenecks with dainsleif! ❤️ hope you're having a day just as wonderful as you are! | like/rb if you liked this!

♡ 𝐩.𝐬.: i hope you found the little easter egg! XD

"Dain, stop looking over my shoulder." You chuckled, your lover peering over you to look at the ingredients. You looked up to kiss him on the cheek, the older kissing you back tenderly.

"Can't a man be curious?" Dainsleif smiled. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as you whisked flour and sugar together. His black cashmere turtleneck looked amazing on him, you thought – a soft blush forming on your face.

The two of you had decided to commemorate fall for the first time – or rather, Dainsleif's first time. You were nothing but shocked and horrified that he had never experienced the luxury of a hot chocolate by the fireplace, or eaten pumpkin spiced cookies, or had apple strudel – all these little pleasures you looked forward to every year.

"Weren't you looking through a book just now? Why not wait until I'm done so we could enjoy the treats?" You laughed, not unkindly. He rested his chin on your shoulder in response, sighing deeply.

"Oh, the ordeals we men have to go through. What a shame." Dainsleif teased.

"I'm just kidding. You know I'm always pleased to spend time with you." You kissed him again. Adding an egg into the mix, you hummed a cheerful little tune as you worked your way around the kitchen that you made your place.

Dainsleif watched you used your lemon salt shaker to add to the scone mixture, a soft smile on your face. Years ago, if you had told him that he was to be married in the future, he might have laughed in your face. Look at him now! A perfect lover, a perfect family, a perfect place he was blessed to call his home. And he loved every single moment of it.

His attention lingered as he watched you meticulously add cinnamon to the mix, the delicate smell enticingly making him imagine the tea spread the two of you would have later in the day. Scones, lattes, pumpkin and cinnamon muffins... it was nothing short of perfect. You were nothing short of perfect to him, he thought.

"...Dain? Love?" He snapped out of his musings, to see you snapping your fingers amusedly in front of him.

"Ah, sorry about that. Do you need my help?"

"Could you get started on the hot chocolate, please? Don't burn it, just melt the goods enough that it turns into a thicker liquid. Let me know when it's done?" You pecked him on the cheek and returned your attention to your muffins and scones – prepping the dollop cream and jam.

Dainsleif was confused. Food was note his forte! That was your area. You provided the meals, serving waffles, pancakes, buttered toast for breakfasts, and occasionally breaking out the sweet pastries you knew he had a soft spot for. But, ahh! He didn't want to disappoint you.

"Okay, pour the chocolate chips into a bowl over hot water. That sounded easy enough." Dainsleif thought. He couldn't screw that up, right?

Turns out, he could screw that up. Dainsleif had almost started to boil the chocolate, much to your shock and later amusement.

"Dain! Switch off the fire!" You yelped, setting your pan away and running over from your spot in the kitchen. Studying the now-very-hot chocolate for a moment, you decided that it was still salvageable.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't realise the fire was too hot." He chuckled nervously, toying with the hem of his shirt. He hated disappointing you over such a trivial matter; looking into your eyes for any confirmation that you were not angry. You softened your gaze, and his shoulders slumped in relief once more.

"It's okay. Let's add some milk into it, it should be fine." You brought out the white carton from the fridge, gingerly pouring it into a measuring glass. He took the glass from you, finger brushing against your palm gently, and poured it into the chocolate. Well, hot chocolate saved, crisis averted.

"Phew. Okay. I think the scones and muffins are done. I'll take them out to the dining area, you could bring out the mugs and whipped cream?" Dainsleif looked at your soft smile, kissing you in response and turning to the cabinet behind him.

The table was all set, food laid out, and the fireplace was lit.

"Enjoy, my love. You can finally experience fall." You spoke dreamily, sipping on your hot chocolate.

"Perhaps we should do this every year," Dainsleif replied.

"Perhaps we shall."

OHHHHHH THIS FELT SO LONG BUT IT WAS SO SOFT TuT i hope you enjoyed, lane!!! | like/rb if you liked this!

taglist: @bookuya, @mikachuchu, @starglitterz, @cherubbic, @noirkkat, @the-gayest-sky-kid, @ajaxeology, @icecappa, @almondoufu, @gnyuvile, @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst. @simplyxsinned, @heaven-dissolution, @xiaoyksa, @yua1106, @gnyuvrse, @mayple, @rim0na, @kamitoge, @abyssheart, @hushyouu, @thaliastea

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disasterlegend · 4 years ago

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Things that the chain would do in a modern au: cooking edition

in which half are literally just stupid things that I’ve done, and the other half are some of my proper headcanons for the boys ! :)

one of them, honestly any of them, would be in the kitchen cooking who knows what, and proceeds to get oil on their laptop (yes i use my laptop in the kitchen while baking i am a fiend who can’t do anything without some kind of music). so they just pick up the dish sponge that is soaking wet and soapy and uses it to clean off the surface of the laptop. Five seconds later either one of the others who just happens to be in the kitchen witnessing it or the person who did it is just standing there like “what the hell did I just do ???”/“why did I just do that ??” as they frantically wipe the water off of the laptop using their apron

apron is covered in pet hair (most likely twilight or wild)

Hyrule over-oils nearly everything. Like the baking tray that you spray to bake a cake or brownies in? emptied nearly half a can of oil. That sautéed mushroom dish that they’re trying to make? puts like 2 tablespoons more than necessary and the entire dish turns out really oily/greasy

Wind would turn on the stove and then go upstairs and forget that he turned it on

or alternatively he would turn on the stove to boil something and it would boil over right in front of him because he was watching funny videos instead of paying attention

I’d like to think that legend is slightly decent in the kitchen, I just think with like who he is as a person he has a lot of pride in what he’s making where like he’s practiced enough so it’ll come out decent

Sky only knows one recipe and it’s pumpkin soup. Absolutely nothing wrong with that because he never gets tired of it and neither do the rest of them

I feel like warriors can also cook but it’s also way harder for him and kind of like hyrule he’ll mess up measurements and overcook things

Time can make oatmeal. That’s literally it. Like he’ll assist Malon in the kitchen during dinner because he’s a good husband but he does not do the main cooking. he will burn it

four would be unbelievably precise with measurements

wild would not measure like anything if he could help it

both would come out amazing though regardless

hyrule can’t cook meals but holy shit he can bake. he’s harassed into making brownies and banana bread all the time by the others

twi cannot bake but can cook and he 100% cooks odd but amazing vegetable dishes

he works extra hard to mask certain vegetables in order to get the rest of them to eat healthy. ie: finely chops mushrooms so none of them know they’re there until after the meal when he reveals it all dramatic like a villain while the children (wind) scream

time would try to teach them all how to barbecue because he’s the ultimate dad but in truth he learned from wars

wars laughs when he burns things and immediately takes over the grilling

so it ends up being both wars and time who teach the others the art of grilling lets be real that grilling is hard so time gets a little bit of slack. doesn’t stop wind from laughing at him though

wind isn’t allowed to cook/bake half the time but the boy is incredible with spices, like he can tell exactly what spice a recipe needs just in a taste test, and which vegetables pair well together depending on sauces. he’s like a master chef with zero technical skill

that said wind is the biggest critic

wind: did you measure the vanilla extract correctly? wild, who has never properly measured vanilla extract in his life: no <3 wind, a little gremlin: yeah i can tell

four and sky are the only ones who don’t tear up from cutting onions

they all have stupid aprons (i personally have a cat patterned, hulk, and all might aprons and i absolutely think they would have those if not something similar)

twi would 100% wear a cat apron

sky would have a “kiss the cook” apron that he wears all the time because the group gifted it to him as a gag but he loves it

wild would cook at literally any hour

“it’s 11:30pm. put the cookie dough away and finish tomorrow” “if i don’t finish it now i’m never going to finish it” “please go to bed” “no”

he only listens and goes to bed when malon asks him to

sky and hyrule help wild make cookies, he’ll make the dough and then they all take turns rolling it out and using cookie cutters to shape them

warriors likes to help ice them though

wars: *holds up bunny cookie that he iced pink* look it’s you legend: i will remove your knees

wild also stress cooks/bakes. time will know somethings wrong when he comes home one day to see like three different pies in the refrigerator, four cakes varying in size and flavor, and about 15 dozen different cookies in various containers stacked around the kitchen, and wild is standing there icing another cake on a makeshift cake spinner that is constructed out of a large pot and a plastic plate

the boys both love and hate his stress baking.

pros: so many snacks.

cons: too many snacks.

wind consumes too many cookies at once, regrets it for an hour, and then comes back to try each of the cakes

i mentioned it partially in my list but like here’s a chart too just for a better idea

this was fun ! let me know what y’all think or if you want to hear more of my headcanons :3

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rfaromance · 2 years ago

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Remembering the marshmallow Saeran comparisons, how would all of the RFA + V, Saeran and Rika have their tea/coffee and are they a biscuit dunker?

Would how they have their drinks match up to their personalities too? Like with Yoosung, his could have a ton of milk or something to have the flavour nice and mellow

Ray is a tea man to me! He could have loads of sugar for sweetness? Actually Yoosung could too

Suit Saeran could have the blackest of black coffee, dark 'like my soul' XDDD

What do you think? :D

About the dunking biscuits, I'd love to know if the RFA like it because I personally hate it! XDD

I hate getting my biscuits soggy and weird :( T_T hahaha

Hello! Excellent question for the Marshmallow Boy and gang.

First of all, I don't think Zen would drink tea or coffee until Jaehee starts getting into coffee. Before that, it's all water or beer. But Jaehee manages to make him a smooth brew for a simple latte. Zen isn't into very sweet things, so milk and coffee is all for him. If you could get him to eat some sort of sweet with it, maybe a biscotti. He'd bite it raw and probably hurt his teeth. Help.

Jaehee is for sure a coffee girl! She is always trying all sorts of different creations, sometimes changing the beans she uses or the amount of milk she adds, or using grinds vs. grinding the beans herself, etc. I'd say her favorite is probably a lighter roast (think Starbucks blonde) because it has more caffeine, and she's always tired. She likes vanilla or hazelnut. She isn't usually one to have anything on the side, but if she did get a little scone or something, she wouldn't dip it because it would alter the flavor of the coffee.

Yoosung tried black coffee once, to be like a manly adult. Never again. Now he loves making latte art at the coffee club! But after his caffeine scare with Saeyoung, he's more likely to go for a tea, or perhaps a mocha with a nice balance of coffee and cocoa. Either way, it will have a lot of milk. He definitely makes little cookies or biscuits or scones to dip in his drink; he loves baking, after all! He probably experiments with different flavors and textures to figure out what fits each drink the best! Right now his favorite combination is a chai latte and a cinnamon scone, if only because of the autumn weather!

Jumin would unironically drink black coffee. He drinks red wine, so I'm assuming he doesn't taste tannins (the molecules that make coffee and wine taste bitter) and thus would have no problem appreciating black coffee. He might add a splash of milk for flavor, but it would probably be a non-dairy milk. If you give him a biscuit, he's going to dunk it in. You can't stop him. He likes that the liquid softens the texture of the baked treat so it isn't as crunchy.

Saeyoung doesn't drink coffee or tea--just Dr. Pepper! He has an aversion to any sort of drink that people can develop a dependence on. But you could probably talk him into a milk tea, if only because he likes slurping up the boba with the big straw. Honey boba, of course. Probably an almond or vanilla guy for the milk tea, but I wouldn't put any weird flavors past him.

V is a tea drinker. Please, give him something soothing. He is always stressed, whether from the weight of his thoughts or the many secrets he keeps hidden deep inside. I could see him being a fan of chamomile with a splash of lemon and sugar. I think he sometimes dips a treat in his tea, depending on his mood and the flavors. An orange or cranberry biscuit is going in. A chocolate one isn't.

Ray is 100% a tea guy. Full of milk and cream and sugar and honey. He's probably adding vanilla extract, too. He needs something sweet and basic (meaning MILKY, referring to pH, not to pumpkin spice latte girls like me) to counteract all of the elixir that burns his mouth, esophagus, and stomach. He's actually worked it down to somewhat of a science to figure out the best concentrations and mixtures depending on whether he needs comfort, energy, or a kickstart to his brain. But he isn't dipping his cookies in there; that'd ruin his perfect measurements!

Suit Saeran would try black coffee but it would burn his insides instantly. Please, dear, drink something your body can handle. You're not any less powerful if you really like strawberry milk.

GE loves strawberry milk, actually. He's getting strawberry milk tea with his brother. They're bonding. He also likes floral teas and flavors like earl grey, with a lot of cream and sweetness. Also a white chocolate mocha kind of guy.

Rika is a Pumpkin Spice Latte girlie actually. She doesn't care what people think. She likes the flavor, but specifically when it's iced. She has the aura of someone who'd drink only mature drinks, like a simple Americano or a flat white, but she wants the cinnamon lattes and the caramel macchiatos. Please, let her have something fun for once. Let her get a cake pop and a sugar cookie latte from Starbucks. Let her smile and indulge her inner child. Maybe also recommend she tries some black tea, though, because she needs to sit down and be calm for once in her life.

#Thanks for the ask!#mystic messenger #Mysmes #Mysme #Mm #Headcanon #RFA #mint eye

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blindhummingbird · 2 months ago

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Burning Spice Cookie they could never make me hate you…

#cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #burning spice crk #crk #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #cookie run

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misscorn · 3 years ago

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Day 3: Baking/Warm

@takaritsuweek <3 if you see typos no u don't I didn't really proofread lmao

***

Takano Masamune liked to think that he was pretty good at cooking. He could whip up a meal pretty quickly using whatever nonsense he found in his cupboards and it always turned out at least decent. When he really put in the effort he dare say he could even make delicious meals.

Onodera Ritsu on the other hand hated cooking. Not only was he constantly terrified of undercooking any proteins involved (raw chicken was the bane of his existence. He always ended up making it too dry or just slightly burnt out of fear of it being a little pink in the middle) but he also hadn't quite wrapped his head around balancing spices. He always put too much or too little of stuff. Recipes were never clear enough! They always said a 'pinch' of this or a 'sprinkle' of that, like that was supposed to mean something to Ritsu!

Now, baking on the other hand...

Ritsu didn't bake often, but he certainly enjoyed it more than cooking. You didn't have to keep an eye on a pot to make sure nothing boiled over, there were clear cut measurements and instructions to be followed, and dessert is always more fun than dinner anyway!

Masamune did not hold the same sentiment. When it came to baking, one wrong measurement and the whole thing was a disaster! Cooking was more lenient, so long as you didn't burn anything (as Ritsu tended to do). Plus, he wasn't huge on sweets and the less sugary baked goods, like bread for example, took way too much effort to make in his opinion. He could get bread at the store for cheaper and his arms wouldn't be sore from kneading.

However, there was one aspect both men liked about the different styles of food making and that was watching the other do it.

Even if Ritsu denied Masamune's offers to come over to dinner, he still found himself at his boss' apartment more often than he'd like to. Once in Masamune's kitchen Ritsu would always offer to help cook just to be polite, but knew it would be rejected. After sitting down (Ritsu secretly feeling relieved that he didn't have to help) a weird, warm sense of what Ritsu could only describe as "domestic homelife" would fill the kitchen. The sounds of stirring, boiling, and the gradually building smell of whatever meal Masamune was preparing that night would bloom throughout the apartment to create a peaceful illusion of something Ritsu was too afraid to put a name on. Ritsu tried not to think too hard about it otherwise it would shatter.

There was something...charming about watching Masamune cook that Ritsu couldn't quite put his finger on. Masamune was focused, like he was with everything he did, but somehow also casual. Like he was confident and knew what he was doing. Then again, he always acts like he knows what he's doing, Ritsu would often think as he tried not to roll his eyes.

Sometimes Ritsu dared to daydream what it would be like to come home everyday and let Masamune cook for him, not that he would dare let Masamune know that, especially since Masamune had already offered and Ritsu knew he was dead serious. If Ritsu ever dared to crack open even an inch and share the slightest vulnerability then Masamune would undoubtedly take complete advantage of such an opportunity, like he always does.

To be fair, Masamune didn't get many opportunities, so of course he had to take advantage of them when he could. Like the first and only time he'd seen Ritsu bake.

Masamune had shoved his way into Ritsu's apartment with some flimsy work excuse despite Ritsu's protesting.

"At least let me finish up in the kitchen first." Ritsu huffed once he realized that Masamune wasn't going anywhere.

Masamune raised an eyebrow. "What are you making?" He asked, instinctively trying to crane his neck to get a peek into the kitchen.

"Cookies." Ritsu mumbled, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Why?"

"I just felt like it." Ritsu snipped. Did he need a reason to bake cookies in his own home?

"I didn't take you for a baker. I didn't take you for a person who does anything in the kitchen, really." Considering Ritsu's track record of malnourishment, Masamune thought that was a fair statement, though it seemed Ritsu disagreed.

"If you're gonna be rude then you can show yourself out." Ritsu huffed before making a show of turning his back to Masamune and going back to the kitchen.

Masamune rolled his eyes and trailed behind him, standing in the doorway of the kitchen to watch as Ritsu went back to the two separate bowls he had: one for wet ingredients and one for dry. Ritsu double checked that the oven was preheated before he got back to work on the mixing.

Ritsu tried to ignore Masamune and pretend like he wasn't there as he slowly combined the two bowls and mixed until he got a dough, however it was difficult to do so considering how Masamune was staring.

"What?" Ritsu finally snapped as he started to line a baking sheet with little balls of cookie dough.

Masamune bit back a smile as he realized that Ritsu had no idea how cute he was: flour all over his shirt, dough sticking to his hands, and so unbelievably serious and determined about making a batch of cookies. Even with something like this, he's determined to do his best, Masamune thought.

"I just love you, is all." Masamune said, calm and collected in appearance despite inwardly feeling nothing but a shining adoration.

Ritsu almost dropped the tray. "You-!" He cut himself off with a sound of frustration and shook his head before starting his sentence again. "You can't just say things like that!" Ritsu managed to get the tray in the oven without losing any dough to the floor. He also didn't burn himself which was a major plus!

"Can I try one when they're done?" Masamune asked, electing to ignore Ritsu's protest of his affections.

"No."

Masamune frowned. "Why not?"

"You don't even like sweets that much, so why would I waste one on you?" Ritsu asked as he started the process of cleaning everything up.

"I'll like it if you're the one who made it."

Ritsu paused his movements altogether before emphatically shaking his head. "I-I'll never understand how you can say things like that with a straight face!"

"So, can I try one?" Masamune repeated.

Ritsu considered the question for a moment instead of outright denying, which was a good sign, Masamune hoped.

"If you help me clean up." Ritsu finally decided.

Masamune left his spot in the doorway to assist Ritsu in cleaning up the measuring cups, spoons, bowls, etc, that had been used in the process of making the cookies. He had to bite back the comments he wanted to make of how it felt like they were a married couple cleaning up together lest he risk losing the opportunity to try something Ritsu baked.

I learned something new about him today, Masamune thought idly as he watched Ritsu wipe down his countertop. He was glad Ritsu wasn't looking at him so he wouldn't see how he was smiling like a total idiot.

In the end, both Ritsu and Masamune were right about the cookies: Masamune still wasn't a huge fan of sweets, but he was a fan of sweets made by Ritsu.

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #fanfiction #takaritsuweek

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years ago

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Love Light

Author: @rosegardeninwinter

Prompt: Christmas baking! [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T for some subtly implied married shenanigans

Summary: Katniss, Peeta, and Prim do some snowy day baking. The fourth installment in the Snowstorm Universe, approximately two months after Hearthsong (and, though the characters don’t know this, in my mind it is set on Christmas day). You don’t need to have read the Snowstorm Universe to get the basics of this AU, which are that Prim won the 74th Games, and Peeta and Katniss fell in love, courted, and are now married.

Author’s Note: Special thank you to @captainseaweedbrains who acted as my lovely beta on this sugary fluff-fest! Enjoy! Word Count: ~ 1500 words

____________

The heat from the wood stove makes the windows fog, blurring the pale violet dawn behind our curtains, as my lips trail back up my husband’s body to make a home against his throat, feeling his pulse coming down from its rapid peak.

“Good morning,” I say innocently, tapping my fingers in a meaningless pitter-patter against his chest.

Peeta exhales a raspberry. “It is now.”

I laugh. Nip at his neck and get a gentle swat on my hip for my trouble. “Give me a second and I’ll return the favor,” he says, but I yawn and shake my head.

“Later,” I say. “I was promised gingerbread last night.”

“That you were,” he says, a bit dazedly, “and you’ll have it.”

I sigh and tuck my nose against his neck, breathing in his scent. His fingers lightly trace my arm, resting across his chest in a loose embrace. It’s not usual for us to stay in bed like this. Most days, I’m up and out running errands for my mother, or helping Prim make charity baskets for the people who will accept her generosity. Peeta frosts the cakes for his father’s bakery, and makes cookies to go in the baskets. Prim’s winnings mean neither of us have to work, but it’s not in my nature to be idle. Making the charity baskets is the least I can do to help those less well off than we are.

“Okay, woman,” Peeta says at last. “You’ll have to let me up if you want that gingerbread.”

“Hmm,” I say, nestling my nose further into his neck. I smile against his skin, then kiss his shoulder. “If you insist.”

“I didn’t,” he laughs, but swings himself out of our bed anyway. He pulls on his pajama pants and shimmies into a sweater. I bite my lip, admiring his broad shoulders and back, before they disappear behind the thick fabric. He gets a match from atop the stove to light the lone candles in each of our two windowsills.

“You’re sure I can’t open a window?” he asks, hand already on the latch. “It’s burning up in here.”

This is one of those compromises and arguments we’ve had to resolve as we get used to living as a couple. Peeta, having grown up sharing one room with his brothers, wants to leave the windows open, even in winter. I spent the early years of my life stopping the cracks in our windows up with old gloves and bits from the rag bag, and I hate the cold. But I’m cozy with his residual heat trapped under our quilt, so I nod.

Peeta pops the latch and opens the window a sliver. The curtains and the candle flame flicker in a breeze, but the candle doesn’t go out. My husband peers onto the street below.

“It’s snowing,” he says as he comes back to the bedside. “I bet it started last night. It’s like someone dropped a bag of sugar over everything. Come with me,” he adds. “I bake much better when I have company.”

I smile and prop myself up on my elbows to receive a quick peck on my lips and promise that I’ll join him in a minute. He leaves. His footsteps, never very quiet, thunk down the stairs and I smirk as I stretch my arms above my head, curl my toes. I could go back to dozing, but I won’t pretend I don’t like to sit and watch my husband work. I get up, wash my face, and braid my hair down my back. The stockings my mother made for my wedding go up to my knees, and a warm shawl goes over my shoulders. I shut the door to our room behind me and let my hand trail the bannister as I tiptoe downstairs. Chances are, my mother isn’t awake. She has the most patients in December and January, when illness and hunger are their worst. She needs her rest.

There is a soft conversation coming from the kitchen. I pause in the doorway, leaning against the green trim. My sister bends over a handwritten recipe book as Peeta sets out his baking supplies: bowls, measuring cups, spoons. My heart warms at the sight, as it always does. The cold season isn’t easy on Prim. The end of the year brings the Victory Tour to our district. For Prim, that means bad memories and nightmares. Peeta knows about them. The last time she couldn’t sleep, it was my husband who discovered her crying in the living room when he got up at four in the morning to put on a starter for bread. She’d fallen back asleep against his shoulder on the couch, and I’d fallen more in love with him than I thought was possible when I found them later. Peeta fits so perfectly into our home, I don’t know how we managed before him.

“Ooh, ‘cinnamon pull-apart bread,’” Prim is saying, tapping the page with her metal finger. “That sounds amazing.”

“It is,” Peeta agrees. “Even better with apples, when we could get them. We could make it tomorrow if you want. How much white vinegar for the gingerbread?”

Prim flips forward a few pages. “Um — two tablespoons.” She looks up at me. “Good morning.”

I wrap my arm around her as I come over to see the recipe book. “How can I help?” I ask.

“Ask your baker,” Prim laughs. “I only know I’m on kettle duty.” She nods to where the kettle is hung over the hearth, warming up.

“Katniss, if you’ll take these.” Peeta sets three glass jars marked “syrup” “apple mash” and “molasses” in front of me, along with a wooden bowl and stirring spoon. He kisses my temple. “I can handle the spices and flour.”

The three of us set to work in the quiet, cozy morning. The only sounds are those of opening jars, stirring spoons, the fire cracking, and Prim reading measurements to us. The sun continues to rise, and snow continues to float down under a pale purple sky.

I bring the jar of molasses up to my nose and breathe in the heady scent. It’s only thanks to Prim that we can afford such expensive things, and we try not to use them often for ourselves, but today I add an extra splash of maple syrup to the wet ingredients in my bowl. I hear my husband groan when he sees me do it.

“It’s the Everdeen sweet tooth,” Prim laughs, going to fetch the whistling kettle and add the hot water to my mix. “Can’t be helped. Especially not with three of us in the house.”

“Apparently not,” Peeta says, grinning.

I hop up to sit on the counter as he takes my bowl and slowly stirs in the dry ingredients, making a thin, brown batter. We haven’t even put it in the oven yet and it smells good enough to just drink up.

“Almost done,” Peeta says, picking up a measuring spoon and smiling like he’s a little boy again. “This is Granny’s recipe, so there’s one last thing.”

“What’s that?”

Peeta twirls the spoon between his fingers thoughtfully. “She always said to add one spoonful of being grateful, even if there wasn’t much to be grateful for.” He goes pink around the nose and ears. “I mean, we don’t have to,” he says. “It was just something we did as kids.”

“No,” I say. “I — I think that’s a beautiful idea, Peeta.” It sounds like something my father would do, something Peeta would teach our children, if we lived in a world safe enough to have them.

He gives me a look glowing with what my father would call love light, and strokes my stockinged leg. “Thank you,” he says. “I can start.” He pretends to scoop something out of the air. “One spoonful … for sunrises.”

Then it’s Prim’s turn. She holds the spoon up in the candlelight, the glimmer reflecting on the shiny surface, and smiles. “One spoonful … for a warm fire.”

I don’t know what I want to say. I have an abundance of things to be grateful for, in spite of where we live. I have a roof over my head and warm clothes. I have gingerbread and stockings, violet sunrises and snowfall — and I have hope. I’m not even sure of what, but with my husband and my sister beside me, I have it all the same.

“One spoonful … for having spoonfuls, ” I say, and I trust they understand what I mean.

I don’t know if the spoonfuls of being grateful do anything to make the batter taste better, but I wouldn’t put it past Jenny Ann Mellark. And when, an hour or so later, I’m laughing as her grandson kisses sticky gingerbread crumbs from my fingers, while my sister giggles and pretends to hide from us behind her mug of warm milk, I decide I’m pretty sure they do.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter #winter 2020 #rosegardeninwinter #submission #prompt

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midnightseonghwa · 4 years ago

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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐡𝐣

𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐮 - 𝟏

✕𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Witch!Hongjoong x Heart broken!Reader ft. Cat Shiter Familiar!San

✕𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Magic, Halloween, Witch Au

✕𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.0k+

✕𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: Hongjoong finds himself lonely, working day in day out to make human money. But what happens when someone comes into his workplace and asks for a temporary fix? Only Hongjoong knows how to make it permanent. Alternatively: “To taste a poison as sweet as love and the mist that clouds your sense.”

✕𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of physical abuse (not from Hongjoong though). Hongjoong is a little softie at first. Love at first sight and ‘I love you’s are exchanged quite fast. Slight obsessive themes towards the end, he takes a advantage of your broken heart and mentions of magic...because it is a witch au.

✕𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕𝐀/𝐍: This took me three days to write and a reupload but I’m finally here. Okay, welcome to the first installation of the Wonderland Halloween Au series! I’m so excited so please don’t let this flop :(... Do remember that this fiction and I don’t actually see Ateez in this way. I know this is different from my conventional tooth-rotting fluff but I’ve always wanted to dabble in a bit of fantasy au-s. I hope you like it as much as I do!

✕𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @pancakes-for-teddy

✕𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: Here

As Hongjoong fake smiled at the customer and turned around to make yet another damned pumpkin spice latte, he found himself hating this part of the year more than any other.

It was a curse in all its worth to live in the human world, having to make mortal money. But no matter how much Hongjoong cursed his existence, he took slight comfort in the fact that at least he wasn't on the street starving and dying.

"Here you go, miss," he smiled and handed the paper cup to the lady and moved onto the next customer. It had been the same routine for the last few years Hongjoong had been cursed to the mortal world by his witch coven and it was getting boring, to say the least.

"Next customer, please," he said and tapped the register before looking up at you standing in front of him.

"What can I get for you today?" He asked after you didn't utter a word and just stared at the menu while fiddling with your hands. Your face was covered with a grey hood, and all Hongjoong wanted to do was yank it down and hex you for taking so long.

"Why don't you wait on the side while I take the rest of the orders?" He suggested, and a chorus of agreements for you to step out of the line was heard from the back.

"When you're done deciding, I'll help you out."

With that, he saw you move out the line and get cursed by the obnoxious and uptight people behind you, who were probably running late for their "important" meetings.

After shuffling about and preparing drinks behind the counter, he finally saw you stand in front of the register and right the little bell that was kept there to attract his attention.

"Are you finally ready to order?" He asked and you muttered a low 'yes' in response.

"What will you be having today?" He said and watched in annoyance as you brought your hands up to your hood and lowered it down to reveal your face.

"Just a black coffee, please. As strong as possible." Your voice was small and almost came out as a whisper. All the ill-will that Hongjoong had harboured against you vanished the moment he saw your blotchy face with dried tear streaks and small cuts.

"I'll get right on it," he said and mustered up a genuine smile, with his teeth showing.

You took out a crumpled note from your hoodie pocket and thrust it into Hongjoong's hand who just smiled at you again and put it in the tip jar, claiming your coffee was on the house.

When he stepped behind to attend to your drink, he made sure to provide extra attention to it. It looked like you had been through a rough day and all Hongjoong wanted at that moment was to make you feel better with his coffee. His coffee, crafted by his hands, made only for you.

An odd feeling churned at the bottom of his stomach as he lidded the paper cup and carrying it towards the end of the counter.

"Here you go. Strongest black coffee I could prepare," he said and you gave him a thankful nod.

You turned to leave, pulling your hood back over your head before Hongjoong called you out.

"Listen!"

You stopped in your tracks and shifted to face him. His red hair was falling into his wide eyes as he called out to you.

You approached him slowly and looked up to meet his eyes. They were a burnt umber colour, almost a warm reddish-brown and you found yourself getting slightly lost in them.

"If you don't mind," he started and you backed away a little, knowing how this would go. He was surely going to ask you for your number and you had no intention of giving it.

"What exactly happened? Who made you so sad that you couldn't sleep?"

The question startled you. You thought you had washed your face enough times to get rid of any lasting evidence but it seemed as if you were wrong.

"I-" you mulled over your words. Was it really alright to dump your problems on the barista of your local cafe?

"I stayed up all night fighting with my boyfriend," you admitted sadly and looked down at your hands that were clutching the coffee cup.

"Oh," Hongjoong frowned and felt that odd churning at the bottom of his stomach. Only this time, it was more fierce.

"It's not a problem, really. He just tends to get angry really quickly," you said and shrugged your shoulders as if it was no big deal.

Hongjoong didn't say anything but he had a small inkling as to what you were going through. While he may not have an immediate fix for it, he thought of something that would help.

"Hey, San!" He shouted and you watched as a lanky black-haired boy trudged out from the kitchen area.

"Can you please pack two cookies from the display case," he said and the boy meekly nodded before going off to do his task.

"I'm not sure of how much it will help..." Hongjoong trailed off and gave you a small knowing smile.

"But, I assure you, for as long as I have been living in the mortal world, I have never found any other cookie better than this."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment.

'Mortal world'?

Deciding to ignore it nonetheless, you lowly thanked the red-haired man in front of you before taking the paper bag out of San's hand, exiting the cafe.

As you soon as you exited, San clutched Hongjoong's hand and dragged him back to the kitchen area.

"I know what you're thinking," he said and Hongjoong watched the lanky boy turn back into his cat form and jump into his witch's arms.

"And what exactly am I thinking?" Hongjoong mused and raised one of his eyebrows, petting San's black fur and scratching behind his ears.

The cat hissed and bared its teeth at the witch who just laughed and ushered the cat back onto the floor.

"Sometimes San," he started and untied his apron, hanging up on one of the hooks, "You're too smart for your own good."

Hongjoong inhaled the scent of burning sage as he opened the door to his apartment with a small opening incantation. You could never really be too sure with these pesky humans. All pesky...except you.

Ever since Hongjoong's interaction with you at the cafe, he had set his heart on making you feel better, even if it does create a small dent in his supplies.

"San!" He called out once again and the cat made its appearance in front of him at once.

"Come on," Hongjoong said and stood in front of his bedroom door, muttering a quick spell before turning the handle and walking in.

The room was lined with wooden shelves from top to bottom with all types of witchy paraphernalia.

"Really? You're going to make that pesky human a potion?"

The cat turned boy was now leaning against the back wall, watching his owner word about his brewing room with a certain determination he had never seen before.

"Why not?" He said and dropped strawberry leaves along with a few dried jasmine flowers in a pot that was situated in the middle.

Hongjoong stood on one of the stools searching the higher shelves before he turned to San.

"We're out of willow barks," he said and San rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the wall and exiting the room through the window in cat form.

Hongjoong bustled about the room, adding different elements to the pot which had now turned an ugly black mixture.

Throwing in some dried butterfly wings and yarrow flowers, he sat down in the corner and waited for San to come back with his bark.

The night wind whistled through the room and Hongjoong's idle thoughts floated back to you. Even in your miserable state, he thought you mesmerising and while he wouldn't call it love at first sight, it was definitely love at first sight.

Everything about you set Hongjoong's nerves on fire with some kind of aphrodisiac. The poison of love slowly making its way through his system, flushing out all negative thoughts and replacing them with happy ones instead.

San meowed as he made an appearance in front of Hongjoong and dropped the willow bark into the pot. The potion turned a sweet dark pink and Hongjoong tipped the entire thing into a vial before shifting back to his room with a snap of his fingers.

When Hongjoong saw you next, he was more than prepared. But what he wasn't prepared for was for you to be in a worse situation than you were previously. The tear streaks had turned into cuts and the puffy eyes had turned into black-purple bruises that peeked out from under your makeup.

"What happened?" Hongjoong whispered and ghosted his fingers over a particularly nasty bruise. You flinched back and closed your eyes, thinking he was going to do exactly what your boyfriend did to you. Instead, he lightly caressed your cuts with his fingers, almost butterfly-like touches that you made you want to press your face into his hands.

"Was it him again?" He asked from behind the counter, leaning forward a bit to make sure that no one heard him.

You didn't say anything, the words getting horribly stuck in your throat. But your silence was answer enough for him.

"What's your name?" He asked and your eyes widened.

"(Y/n)," you whispered and looked down at your fiddling hands.

"Well, (y/n). My name is Hongjoong," he said and pointed to the small enamel plate pinned on his apron.

You nodded and gave him the most genuine smile you could muster in your state.

"Now, I'll make you some coffee and we're going to sit at that table over there and talk. Is that alright with you?" He asked and you nodded once again, hair covering your eyes a little.

He painted fingernails brushed the hair out of your face and shooed you out of the line with a sweet grin before turning around to make your coffee.

Slipping the small vile out of his apron pocket, he tipped in a capful of the potion he had concocted and watched as it slowly fizzled pink inside the blackish-brown liquid before settling down.

He set a small cookie on the saucer of your cup and set it down in front of you while seating himself in the opposite chair.

"How long has it been going on?" He said and you choked a little on the hot liquid, not expecting him to cut right through the chase.

"This is the second time," you responded, nibbling on your cookie.

Hongjoong didn't say a word. Except, he motioned for you to continue with your coffee while he just sat opposite you, admiring the way you looked so perfect. Save for the injuries here and there.

Slowly sipping the caffeinated liquid, you felt it soothe your oesophagus as it gushed down and settled in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was warm and it was almost as if it was temporarily fixing all your problems.

Oh, if only you knew.

"Do you like it?" Hongjoong asked and you nodded enthusiastically, the bitterness of it still stinging your tastebuds.

"There's something very flowery about it," you said and Hongjoong just gave you another one his innocent smiles before letting out a sheepish laugh.

"It's a special type of bean we get imported," he said and you completely believed it.

The conversation stopped there as Hongjoong had to go back to work. Picking up your now empty cup, he greeted you with a soft goodbye which you returned as you exited the cafe and walked down the street. It was a puzzling revelation to you but you found yourself feeling much better; half a heartbreak almost cured.

"You're falling in love with her, aren't you," San hissed from his corner in the room as Hongjoong grabbed the butterfly wings from his shelf and placed them on his work station.

"Absolutely... yes," Hongjoong said and smiled at his table that was scattered with handwritten notes for you. All declaring his love like some Romeo lost in time and oh, how jealous Juliette would be.

San sighed and turned back into his cat form, jumping up onto his witch's tables and scratching through some of the letters Hongjoong had written.

"Hey!" Hongjoong yelled and threw his body over the paper to shield them from San's claws.

"Mind your paws," he said and San just trudged off the table with an indecent flick of his black tail.

Over the past few weeks, Hongjoong and you had gotten close. It was finally yesterday when the last straw of his healing potion had worked and you broke out the courage to dump your stupid boyfriend and report him for abuse.

With him rotting in prison, you had a lot of time on your hand and what better way to spend it than with your precious Joongie.

"Why are you even making her another healing potion? Didn't (Y/n) dump the guy already?" San asked as he slinked over one of the chairs, his legs jutting over the arms.

"Silly kitty," Hongjoong started and San hissed in reply, baring his teeth.

"This," he gestured to the pot and then smiled, "Is not a healing potion anymore. It's a love potion."

At Hongjoog's words, San jerked straight up and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Are you serious?"

Hongjoong scoffed as he neatly folded his handwritten letters and placed them under one of the jars.

"Yes, very. I am very serious about my love for (Y/n). Now hand me the scissors."

San rolled his eyes and passed the scissors which Hongjoong used to cut up the rosed into small fragments of petals.

Flinging the roses into the boiling potion in the pot along with some bay leaves and lavender, his heart bubbled with excitement at the deep red colour it took on.

Taking all of his handwritten letters, he shredded them to pieces before adding them to the pot as well.

San and Hongjoong both moved away from the pot as it bubbled furiously and then shot out a bloody red mist in the air.

Hongjoong inhaled deeply while San hacked a cough here and there, changing into his cat form to hide from the poisonous mist.

Tipping the final step of his plan into a vile, he stored it safely in his jacket pocket for tomorrow before stepping out of the room.

"Good morning Joongie," you piped as you smiled at the red-haired boy in front of you.

"(Y/n)," he acknowledges and taps the screen of the register before clapping excitedly.

"Oh! We just got some new tea that I would love for you to try," he said and ushered you to one of the tables before getting behind the counter to prepare your tea.

Setting the prepared drink under your nose, you marvelled at the gorgeous colour. The way the sun hit just right to make the red seem almost pink and the way the steam from the cup had taken on a misty red hue.

"What is this called?" You asked and Hongjoong laughed, setting himself down in the opposite chair.

"It's a love potion," he said and you laughed, thinking he was joking.

"Well, let's hope it's my lucky day and I fall in love with the one I'm looking for," you joked back but Hongjoong just frowned and fiddled with his hands nervously.

Did you like someone else?

"Drink up," he said and you pushed the cup to your lips, drinking in all of the liquid at once.

Hongjoong almost squealed in excitement but he contained it and reached out to stroke your hand with his thumb instead.

"You know, (y/n). There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he started and watched with bubbling ecstasy as he saw your pupils dilate with a reddish tint before returning to normal.

"Go on," you smiled and clutched his hand. The rings felt cool against your skin and a slight buzz between both your hands caused your skin to tingle.

It was a refreshing feeling; the feeling of cliche love.

"I... I really like you (Y/n) and I was kind of hoping I could take you out?"

There, he had said it. Hongjoong had confessed the smallest part of his undying love for you.

"Oh..." you trailed off and Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows.

Did the potion not work?

"Just think about it and let me know. You have my number," he said and got up to continue his work.

You, on the other hand, were at war with your inner self. There was a coworker that you had been crushing on for the last week or so and were planning to ask him out but why a clouding sense of Hongjoong had left you occupied with thoughts of him instead.

The walk back to your apartment was spent in a perplexing self argument. Every time you forced the thought of your coworker in your head, a repulsive feeling washed over you and only Hongjoong's face brought you to ease.

Instead of walking back to your apartment, you circled the playground near it the entire day before a ringing from your pocket interrupted your thoughts.

"I was wondering," you heard Hongjoong's smooth voice over the line and instantly found yourself smiling.

"If you had made up your mind?" He said and you sighed at the fantasy of him whispering 'I love you' to you in that voice. A rosy feeling poured out of your heart and rubbed the part over your chest to ease the excitement that was thrumming under it.

You looked around the playground and watched little children run and play with their parents. Suddenly, the world seemed to take on a rosy mist as if you were viewing it through red-tinted glasses.

"Hongjoong, I-" you spoke but your fingers tingled a little when you heard him laugh over the phone.

"Okay, alright. Take your time. Good night, (Y/n)," he said and hung up. You stood in the middle of the street, blinking as the shit-stained world was revealed to you once again.

Where did all the wonder go?

Your breath hitched as you started taking steps to the cafe, breaking out into a full-on sprint midway.

All the lights of the cafe were closed except for the spotlight on top of the counter. You saw Hongjoong clearing some things and quickly tried to push the glass door, only for it to not budge.

Frantically, you hit your palm against the glass causing Hongjoong to get startled and look up at the source of the noise. You locked eyes with him and it was as if at that moment, it was la vie en rose again.

Hongjoong hurried over from behind the counter, unlocking the door and pulling it open as you pushed from the other side.

Barrelling through the door, you locked your arms around his neck and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You exhaled shakily and Hongjoong almost fainted due to your warm breath that was hitting his neck.

"(Y/n), what happen?" He said and stroked your back with almost the same affection that a mother would give to her sobbing child.

Hongjoong tried to pull back but you only hugged him tighter, winding your arms tighter around his neck and pressing your body into his.

"I-I...I wanted to see you," you exhaled and Hongjoong's heart leapt at your words.

You wanted to see him!

"I'm right here," he said and led you to the back of the cafe where you saw San lazily sipping on a cup of milk.

"Hey (Y/n)- oh," he said and gazed at yours and Hongjoong's intertwined hands.

Hongjoong leaned against the counter next to San who had now shifted back into his cat form, nuzzling into Hongjoong's side.

"Is this your way of saying yes?" He asked and you just giggled. Hongjoong seemed ethereal to you under the rosy mist and his red hair complemented the flowers of love perfectly.

"No, Joongie...let's just skip all the initial formalities. I want it to be just you and me forever," you confessed with absolute determination in your voice and Hongjoong pulled you closer to him at your words.

"(Y/n), I love you," he whispered and San made a gagging noise at the side as Hongjoong yanked on his tail lightly, causing San to yowl and then scatter away.

"Joongie, I love you too."

For the people who said that the honeymoon phase never lasts, you and Hongjoong proved them horribly wrong.

Now, a year and a half into your relationship, you had shifted into Hongjoong's apartment with rosy dreams of marriage, little children or even more cats. You had quite your job, believing Hongjoong's claim about his job being more than enough to support the two of you. You spend your days lazing around the house with San who mostly stayed in his cat form unless he needed to stretch. During those times, instead of San the cat, you would hang out with San, Hongjoong's coworker and friend from the cafe who had decided to pay a visit.

Hongjoong never let you leave the house unless it was with him or unless he had given you an extra-strong cup of tea in the morning. You were perfectly content with being left to your own devices at home, dreaming of Hongjoong and bathing in the love you had for him.

"Here you go, love," Hongjoong said as he handed you the familiar red tea he had deemed a love potion. Over the months, the red tea had become your one source of liquid courage, comfort and support, completely oblivious to its side-effects.

Hongjoong watched you with a lovestruck smile as you sipped the tea he had concocted. Your pupils dilated with a red tint like every other time he had given you the tea, the rosy mist clouding your senses and mind.

An overwhelming amount of love spread through your body like fire as you leaned up to kiss Hongjoong on the lips. The sweet residue of his tea lingering between the two of you before you settled on the sofa to take a small nap.

"(Y/n)," Hongjoong called as he appeared in the doorway all dressed.

"I'm going to the cafe for a bit. Some stock has come in that the boss needs me to run it through."

You sighed dreamily before your eyes opened in panic and shock.

Hongjoong was leaving?

"Joongie, it's your day off. You said you would stay."

The male laughed and walked over to where you were lying down, stroking your cheeks and hair affectionately.

"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can," he said and brought your hand up to place a sugary kiss to it.

He picked up his things and moved to the front door as you launched yourself from the sofa and grabbed onto the back of his shirt.

"No, Joongie, please. I get so lonely and I just- you said you wouldn't go. Today's your day off," you begged and fisted his shirt in both your hands, preventing him from leaving.

Hongjoong felt slightly alarmed but he would be lying if he said he didn't like it. He had never seen you act this way but it was something he wanted to keep.

"Alright (Y/n). I won't go," Hongjoong said and ushered you back into the house, brushing a few stray tears from your face.

"Thank you, Joongie. Can I please have some more tea please?" You asked and pouted, trying to woo the male in front of you.

Needless to say that he was already very whipped for you.

"Of course, my love," he said and moved to kitchen as you attached yourself to him like a koala.

"I love you, Joongie," you said and hugged him tighter, "Promise you won't ever leave me?"

"I love you too, (Y/n) and yes, I promise I'll never leave you."

154 notes · View notes

ddaenggtan · 5 years ago

Text

Half-Baked Holiday | ksj | M

Granny Park’s Gossip:

That Seokjin, don’t get me started on him. He’s worked hard to open and run that bakery of his, you know, and I’m so proud that it’s so successful now. Wish he would find a nice person to settle down with, though, he deserves it, as long as he’s been on his own. Well, I guess you can’t really call it alone when he’s got that grump of a best friend always hanging around him. He really should be paying her, what with all the time she spends at the bakery with him. She’s always waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but she’s not so bad when she brings me some of those cookies of his, or just around Seokjin in general, if I’m honest. Too distracted by staring at that pretty face of his, I suppose, though who can blame her?

pairing } seokjin x reader

word count } 12.6K { also on ao3

genre } friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, bakery au, fluff, smut, literally the slightest bit of angst

warnings } fluff, fluff, fluff; jin is an idiot and so is the MC, like they’re genuinely both dumbasses but in different ways; pining; misunderstandings; masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex - male receiving, exhibitionism a little, rolling pins are used in ways they are not intended to be used; several mentions of jins squeaky laugh and also his red ears bc they’re my favorite things in the world

{ The Snowball Effect Series Masterlist }

a/n } whaddup i finally finished this thing barely on time so yEET i yet again maintain my status as queen of last minute deadlines!!!! HBH is my Baby, I love it, it’s my perfect shiny garbage baby, and if you like it, you should DEF check out the others!! They can be read as standalones, but it’s really really really really really really highly recommended that you read them all in order, as they all end up in the same place and there are a ton of little easter eggs and references and shoutouts woven into the entire series!!! Extra special shoutout to the authors of all the other stories, @fortunexkookie (ryn), @taehyungforreal (ashley), @stutterfly (kristi, who also made the incredible banners!!!)

You're a good person. You pride yourself on being kind and giving. Every year you make donations to several charities. You help organize summer fundraisers so kids can eat. You buy the most ethically-sourced groceries possible. You leave your change in case someone else can use it. You always tip at least 20% when you go out to eat. Out of everything, though, of all the good deeds you try to do in your life, there's one thing that makes you a truly outstanding human being.

You don't lose your fucking mind every time the urge hits you.

"But how many calories are in the Holiday Donut?" The lady in front of you asks. You can feel your eye twitching and even the young guy behind the register is starting to falter in his bright grin.

"Um, I'm not-"

"Look lady," You cut in. "You have heard about nearly every thing on the fucking menu. It's a donut, stuffed with strawberry creme and coated in colored frosting and sprinkles. How many calories do you think are in it? Just order the banana nut muffin like you always do, get your coffee, and leave, so the rest of us aren't stuck in a line for another hour."

The lady looks scandalized as she turns to glare at you, but all it takes is a single cocked eyebrow to send her huffing out the door. She mutters a few choice words under her breath as she goes, but you pay them no mind.

"Your usual is almost ready, Pumpkin." You level Jin with an unamused glare as he pushes his way through the kitchen doors with a steaming tray of scones in hand.

"You know I hate that name, Spice," You remind him dryly.

"You know I hate it when you run my customers off with that dark cloud you call a personality, and yet here we both are," he responds. He just smiles at your eyeroll and you do your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. Instead you make yourself comfortable on one of the barstools at the counter.

Seokjin's bakery is as busy as it ever is; several of the tables are taken, either by students on their nth espresso or families doing holiday shopping or people just looking for a place to relax amidst the bustle of the streets. There's someone perched on the stool at the opposite end, close to the register, but you pay them no mind. You're too focused on the mug Jin slides in front of you - green and chipped on the handle, it's your favorite - and the steam wafting up from the cocoa inside. There's a thick layer of marshmallow on the top and a candy cane sticking out, just like you like it, and a Holiday Bagel on a small plate next to it.

"Thanks. You're still an ass, though." He has the decency to look offended at your words, and you grit your teeth against the smile that threatens to split your face. He always looks so cute when he's huffy.

"One of these days I'm going to make you start paying for your food like everyone else, and then you'll start treating me right."

"Sure," You agree in a monotone as you pull your phone out and start tapping away on it. "That'll be the same day that you stop asking me to do your books for you because you can't be bothered."

The sigh that expels itself from his lungs is almost as dramatic as the play he dragged you to the week before.

"I am perfectly capable of doing my books myself, thank you. I let you do it to keep you busy."

"Mhm, sure, I believe that," You tell him. He scoffs again and you barely register the hand he shoots forward to steal your bagel before you're slapping it away. "You don't even like strawberries and kiwi, Seokjin, and you will lose a hand."

You don't look up from the emails you're sorting through on your phone, but you don't have to in order to know that he's got both elbows braced on either side of you. You've known him long enough to know that this is his Pout Stance, and you dare not look up because there's no denying him when he looks like that.

"You're so mean to me, Pumpkin. All I do is spoil you with good food and perfect company," he whines, "And what do I get for it? Insults and mockery. You could at least give me a kiss every now and then."

You choke on your cocoa. It burns your nose as it starts to come up that way, and the dark liquid dances across your phone screen as it molds to every crack and crevice.

"Goddamn it, Seokjin," You sputter. He's already holding a cloth out to you, apology written on his face even as you glare at him. You pat your phone dry as best you can before resigning yourself to the fact that it's just going to smell like warm chocolate and peppermint until the next time your best friend flusters you.

"To be fair, I didn't expect you to be so opposed to the idea," Seokjin mutters. He continues under his breath as you wave off his attempt to help again, something about him being handsome enough, but you aren't listening. Because that's the only real problem between the two of you.

You aren't opposed to the idea. It's all you can think about most days; in work meetings, while you're doing paperwork, in team briefings, while you watch TV, when you're asleep. What his pillow lips would feel like against your own occupies nearly every waking thought you have. The others are torn between fantasies of what being his would be like and memories of him in general, neither of which you're lacking in.

You've known Seokjin for years. You don't even know how long since you insist you met when you were twelve and Jin is just as insistent that you met when you were nine. All you remember is being alone on the side of a playground playing hopscotch by yourself and then giggling at something the nice boy had said and then the two of you were inseparable. You aren't even sure how long you've felt like this towards him. It could've been high school, when he was one of the most sought after boys in school and yet still made time to comfort you every time a boy rejected you. Maybe it was college, though, when he was further away than he'd ever been and yet always answered your calls and responded to your texts and you'd cancel dates because he had randomly driven up to see you. Maybe it was after, watching him run his own bakery and do what he loves every day with the brightest grin you've ever seen on his face.

You can't be sure. All you know is one day you were washing dishes in the back after being his guinea pig for some new creation, and he told some dumb joke, and when you turned around to mock his squeaky laugh like usual, you couldn't. Because he had flour on his cheek and chocolate on his lip and you'd never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life.

And then it just devolved from there and now the butterflies in your stomach have just set up camp. It's been too long, but you can't risk your friendship with him over some stupid crush. He means too much to you.

Your eyes don't leave his back as he disappears back into the kitchen, still complaining about something under his breath, and you suppress a sigh.

Shopping is the worst. You aren't really sure why you're here, because you hate shopping and you hate crowds and you especially hate holiday shopping because it's like Satan himself smashed the two together. You get all your gifts online or early in the year, you don't go anywhere near a mall from October to March, and it works for you. You don't have to deal with holiday crowds. Ever. So why are you on hour five at the largest mall in driving distance with no breakfast, sore feet, and full bags hanging from every possible place they can?

"Does that really seem like something Taehyung would like, though? I got that jacket for him already, I know, but this seems so much more fitting. What do you think, Pumpkin?"

Oh. Right. Seokjin had showed up at Too Damn Early For A Saturday O'Clock and demanded you accompany him for his holiday shopping.

"I think that if I don't eat something in the next ten minutes, I'm ripping your head off and eating that instead. And for dessert I'll demolish those fancy chocolates you got for Jimin." A passing mother gives you a horrified glance as she ushers her toddler along and you almost wish you gave a shit. It's the mall, she can't control what other people say in this hellhole. You probably could’ve done without the emphasis on Jimin, though; Jin knows how much you worship those chocolates, you’ve said countless times that they’re better than orgasms, and still, he got some for Jimin and not you.

You aren’t bitter. Or petty. No. You’re an adult, and you’re not going to pout just because your crush got your mutual friends some sweets instead of you.

"If you touch those chocolates, you're going to march your ass right back to that store and replace them while I return all your gifts," Seokjin quips back. You glance over at him and wrinkle your nose at the two berets he has in each hand.

"What the fuck are you doing, Spice?"

“Wondering when you’re going to listen when I talk to you,” He responds. He holds both of the berets up for you to view more clearly. “Now, which of these is more ‘Tae’ to you?” He doesn’t react to the blank glare you give him, long since immune to your powers of pessimism, and instead just wiggles the berets in each hand so you actually look at them.

Neither are to your personal taste; one is diamond-encrusted in some kind of quilted pattern, with some kind of alternating animal print as well. The other is more understated, if you can call it that, with a faux-fur trim, a feathered poof in the center, and a truly obscene pink houndstooth pattern to it. You can’t help the wrinkled nose that the two options cause in you, and you ignore Seokjin’s huff of irritation in favor of looking past him to the rest of the options. You only have to look for a minute to find something better suited, which mostly means Jin wanted to give Tae something truly gaudy on purpose.

“Here,” You say, stuffing the hat into his hands. He stops mid-rant - something about how you should be helping him more, though you aren’t sure why because he’s the one that dragged you here and is lucky you haven’t bailed yet - and focuses on what you’ve just given him. It’s not a pretty beret, by any means, and is by far the cheapest one there, but it’s got some kind of artful splatter across it in greyscale tones, with a pop of red around the rim to accent it. Seokjin just stares at it for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you shift uncomfortably.

“What?” You eventually ask.

“Nothing,” He says airily. “Just surprised.”

“At what?”

“You paying attention to people and being able to buy good gifts.” He puts the other two back into place and heads towards the registers, ignoring your indignant squawk.

“I get you perfect gifts every year!” You don’t miss his eyeroll, and it makes you want to strangle him a little.

“I don’t count,” He tells you as he settles in behind some grandmother buying entirely too many things that have to be for her grandkid. “You know me better than anyone, and you have access to my Amazon wishlist.”

“Yeah, except none of that is on your fucking wishlist,” You mutter. He turns, eyebrow arched and ready to get more backtalk, but you just make a face at him.

He drags you to five more stores after that and abandons you in the middle of Williams Sonoma. You’re on your third lap of the store, ready to disassemble the fancy grill they’ve got on display to see if he’s somehow in there, when he appears, probably from the ether or some shit. You’re still trying to figure out how he managed to phase through time and space and the massive shelf of Martha Stewart Collection Cookware without you noticing, and in the meantime he takes the massive amount of bags from your hands and deposits something in your palms instead.

It takes you a minute to register the warmth, but the smell hits instantly and makes your stomach grumble loudly. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking hungry.

“Eat,” Seokjin commands. “We’ve got more shopping to do for the bakery.”

You can’t even argue because your mouth is stuffed full of pizza pretzel bites - the only real reason to come to the mall, in your opinion. You’ve inhaled one serving in record time, and Jin doesn’t even react when you bust into the second one in the middle of some tech store. Instead, he just holds out a hand and waits for you to plop a pretzel bite in his palm.

It’s hours later, long after you’ve helped Seokjin drop off all the bakery supplies at the shop and carted the presents up to his apartment, that you realize you’re still holding on to the bag from the pretzel place. You’re about to toss it into your garbage when it registers that there’s too much weight for just garbage; curious, you open the bag up and dump the content onto your kitchen counter.

Inside is a small box of chocolates, the same kind you’d threatened to eat earlier in the day, your favorite flavor and everything, with a small note atop it.

These were supposed to be part of your gift, but you looked put out when you thought I wasn’t getting you any. Thanks for today. xxSpice

You resist the urge to smile; it’s only right that he give you sweets after the frankly absurd amount of time he’d made you spend at the mall. Still, you can’t deny your lip twitches along with your heart at the knowledge that he’d been planning on including them in your gift.

And you might tuck the note away behind a postcard on your fridge, but you’re never going to admit to that.

The next day when you get to the bakery, Seokjin doesn't hesitate to shove you into his small office and push you into his desk chair before he disappears back into the kitchen. The usually cluttered space is empty, devoid of the usual invoices and order forms and whatever the fuck else your best friend keeps on his desk. Even the picture frames have been moved, placed haphazardly atop a filing cabinet. Something flutters in your chest when you notice the one directly facing his chair is one of the two of you.

Taken years and years ago, back when you were first moving into your college dorm, when you were both tired from carrying boxes up the seven flights of stairs to your room. You still remember how irritated you had been when Jin's parents insisted they get a picture of the two of you in your matching university hoodies. You don't remember what it was, but you remember Seokjin cracked some dumb joke or said something ridiculous. He must have, because in the picture, you're looking at him with a softness in your face that isn't present any other time.

Seokjin reappears with a steaming mug and a hand behind his back. The familiar scent of warm chocolate and peppermint hits you, followed closely by the warm-butter sharp-mint honey-glaze smell that you remember taste-testing for him so many times that you're almost positive it’s going to linger on your gravestone.

"That's mistledough." You narrow your eyes, and he rolls his own. His hand pulls out from behind his back to reveal the treat he'd concocted in college and perfected not long after. Shaped like a sprig of mistletoe and a warm honey brown color, the mistledough is easily the best selling product that Seokjin has.

And it's only on sale from Black Friday to the first day of January.

You don't even know what's in it. He's never told you, hasn't let you watch him make it; he'd just show up randomly and shove a weird-shaped treat under your nose and tell you to eat it. And of course you did, because you've been whipped for him since the first day he made you smile on that playground.

It's not important, really. What's important is that he's brought you cocoa and mistledough, which means he's bribing you for something important.

"No," You tell him.

"Please," He pouts. "You don't even know what it is yet." You huff and look anywhere else. His pout is dangerous for you and you know it, and you refuse to be bought for some cocoa and bread.

In an attempt to avoid the puppy dog eyes he no doubt is wearing, your eyes flit around the room. They eventually settle on the mass of shopping bags to your right. You turn, seeing the collection of various wrapping papers on the left and the collection of tape beside them.

"No," You repeat, turning your glare on him. "Wrap your own damn presents, Spice, I'm not doing it for you this year."

"But you do it so much better than I do!" He steps forward, setting his bribes in front of you so the scent wafts towards you that much more. "Your corners are always perfect, Pumpkin, and the edges are so well matched, and you get the pattern to line up perfectly, and-"

"No, Jin," You tell him, already standing. "I told you last year that it was the last time I'd be doing it for you, and that was only because you left it to the day before - again - and had to be in the bakery. I already wrapped all my presents, I'm not doing yours too."

He doesn't even say anything. He just widens his eyes a little and looks down at the scuffed tile floor, kicking his shoe dejectedly against the foot of the desk. There's utter silence in the room, only broken by the muffled chatter of customers and the beep of one of the ovens every few minutes.

You last for a solid ten minutes. You know because the smell of more mistledough fills the air, and you know Seokjin wouldn't try to bribe you with anything that wasn't the freshest batch.

"Why can't you do it?" You grumble, already sitting back down and picking through the wrapping paper.

"I've got like a hundred orders to fill today. That's not even really an exaggeration, either. Soobin's been on cake duty all day so that I can get to work on the mistledough orders and still have time to finish Tae's cake before we leave." You sigh and turn to look at him.

He looks stressed; that's not unusual for this time of year, but it still makes your chest clench. You want to pull him close, run your hands along the furrow between his brows until it's smooth again. Smother him with kisses until he's giggling and happy and remembers that he's a badass culinary god and that he can handle this and that you love him.

"I wish you would tell people no sometimes," You say instead. You slide one of the biodegradable rolls onto the desk and start looking through the drawers for the massive ruler you know is tucked away somewhere. "You can't fill every order. Let people pine for their fancy bread, they don't deserve it anyway."

"You know I can't do that, Pumpkin," He says, breaking off a piece of your bribe and leaning against the tattered desk. "We only just got to where we're steadily in the black, and the seasonal stuff brings in a lot of money. I've got to milk that for as much as I can."

"Yes, because you being overworked and stressed like this is a much better alternative. I'm pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags." You wait for the dramatic gasp, but it doesn't come.

Instead when you look up at him from where you're digging through presents, he's staring at the picture of the two of you. Whatever he's seeing is beyond that, though, invisible to anyone but himself. It's not rare that he gets introspective and quiet; it's actually fairly common when it's just the two of you. You don't know why. You don't want to know why. You just take the moments when they come and wait for him to say whatever he's going to say.

"You're my best friend," is what he eventually says. Your hand stutters where it's slicing paper, mimicking the pang of heartbreak that shoots through your veins. You love being his best friend.

You just wish you were more than that.

"Yeah," You say offhandedly, "No one else wanted the gig, so I guess I'm stuck here." You can feel his eyeroll, but he pats your shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen. When he reappears a while later with fresh cocoa and a bagel, you pretend to be mad that he steals a bite of it until he laughs at your grumbling.

When you leave his smile feels lighter, and you tell yourself you're imagining his eyes lingering on your back as you go.

You’re gonna kill him. You really are. You’re going to absolutely skin him alive, you don’t give a fuck how cute his face is or how hard he makes your heart beat. There’s not a single fucking thing he could say or do that would make up for this.

Maybe if you hadn’t been out here waiting for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe if your phone showed that he had even opened the last six texts you had sent him. Maybe if it wasn’t Seokjin who insisted on leaving at like ten in the morning to being with, even though you had plenty of time to get there because you didn’t even need to run by the bakery because he’d already put Soobin and Yeonjun through what probably counted as actual military training in order to prepare them for today. Frankly, it’s a miracle Seokjin is even leaving them on their own today, considering how hectic it gets. You’re entirely sure that it’s only because Soobin has worked there since the bakery opened and Yeonjun joined not long after so they both know the ropes as well as they possibly can. And because Seokjin was likely up until an ungodly hour preparing and baking an enormous amount of mistledough for today.

In fact, he’s probably still passed out up there, you decide as you climb out of your truck and head into your best friend’s apartment building. You’re cursing under your breath the entire way, paying no mind to the scandalized elderly gentleman that shoots you a Look. You really are gonna kill him, you decide as you shove the key he made you into the lock and jiggle the handle slightly so it’ll actually turn. You’re going to drag him out of his stupidly comfortable bed and probably try to shove him down the garbage disposal or something. His shoulders may present a challenge, but you are up for it.

Your mind is so made up that you don’t even register the bags he’s got ready by the door, or the coolers full of groceries that are packed and ready beside them. You just sidestep it all entirely and head down the hall. You don’t even register the faint sounds, muffled by the door to his room, and by the time it all finally reaches your brain, it’s too late. You’ve already thrown the door open as wide as it will go, which means you get a perfect, unobstructed view, even as Seokjin startles and yelps.

Because of course - of course - he isn’t sleeping or showering or packing. No, instead he’s got his fist wrapped around his cock and is thrusting shallowly into the warmth of his palm. The universe loves to torment you entirely too much, clearly. Why else would it offer you such an unhindered look at the love of your life’s dick?

It’s a nice dick, too. Long and the perfect thickness, a pretty dusky pink head. You can’t lie and say you’ve never imagined what Seokjin’s dick looks like - you basically grew up with him and the others, and young boys talk about their dicks. A lot. Plus, you’ve had a crush on him for several years now.

You just never could have imagined that it’s so absolutely gorgeous that you can feel your mouth water. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away from it, in fact, until Seokjin gets over his initial shock and shoves his blanket over his lap.

“What, uh,” He starts, throat rough. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh...you asked me to pick you up, remember? Because your car doesn’t have four wheel drive like the truck.” You learned a long time ago how to avoid being embarrassed around Seokjin, but even that can’t stop the burn in your cheeks as you force yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. It’s a struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the planes of his naked chest, broad and tanned despite the winter weather, but you manage.

Barely.

“Right, yeah, but...uh, weren’t you supposed to call? And aren’t you early?” The tips of his ears are as red as your face feels. The contrast between the current situation and his obvious shyness is so endearingly distracting, it takes you a full minute to focus back in on what he’s saying. “--at this point, I mean, I know that we apparently aren’t there yet, but really, I don’t mind-”

“Wait,” You interrupt, “I’m still stuck on how I called you four times, both before I left and en route and once I got here, waited another ten minutes since I got here early because I know you like to be early, and yet somehow this is my fault.”

“Well...you should have knocked! Why wouldn’t you knock when coming into someone else’s apartment or bedroom?”

“Why didn’t you hear me coming? The floor in your hallway is a million years old, it squeaks constantly, how did you miss that?”

“Well, I was a little preoccupied.”

“Clearly.”

“You still should have knocked.”

“Why did you give me a key if you wanted me to knock? And when have you ever knocked on my door when you show up randomly? Besides, I figured you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you up while I took all your shit out to the truck.” His face softens a little, and a shy smile teases at his lips.

“Thanks, Pumpkin,” he says quietly. Your stomach flips violently at the look on his face and you roll your eyes at it.

“Yeah, whatever.” You pick up the clothes he already has laid out and throw them at his chest. “Get dressed, you’re buying me breakfast on the way to the cabin.”

He doesn’t protest as you leave him and gather his bags up, balancing them atop the coolers of groceries and snacks he’s no doubt made for everyone. It only takes a little finagling, but you manage to get it all downstairs and into the backseat of your truck. Fat white flakes are falling from the grey sky by the time you’re finished, and Seokjin’s nose and ears are still pink when he eventually gets in as well. You turn the heat up, just in case it’s not residual embarrassment heating his face.

He doesn’t even say anything except a muffled thanks. After a few minutes, you’ve almost resigned yourself to an awkwardly silent car ride.

“So…” Seokjin eventually says in a too-casual tone. “About earlier-”

“No,” You hiss before he can continue. “No we are absolutely not talking about what happened.”

“Oh, come on,” He implores as you turn into the first drive-through you can find. “It was bound to happen eventually, considering-”

“We really don’t need to talk about it,” you insist.

“I’m just saying that I know you aren’t really one for...y’know, sexual activity,” He ignores your open-mouthed gape and continues, “But I have my own needs, and self-satisfaction is the best balance between the two that I’ve found. That said, I’m sorry you had to see it, I know it probably made you uncomfortable. Because. Y’know. Dicks.”

You’re still gawking as he finishes his spiel, and you feel a little like a fish. You surely must look like one, with your mouth hanging open in shock, your eyes as wide as saucers, and the general air of befuddlement that surrounds you. There are so many things you want to say, questions you have, all of them colliding in your brain.

“I like sexual activity just fine!” is what makes it out, just as the speaker beside your window crackles to life. There’s a long, pregnant pause in which you and Seokjin just stare at each other.

“So...what can I get for you today?” The worker says through the speaker. You want to die, just a little, as you rattle off your order and Seokjin’s to him; the universe hates you, obviously, that’s the only real explanation here.

“We are not talking about this,” You tell Seokjin firmly as you pull away from the speaker. Your face is still burning, but you refuse to acknowledge it. “You are paying and then we are heading to the cabin and we are not ever speaking of this again.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. You almost believe that he’s dropped the subject, but unfortunately you know him too well for that. Which is why you shoot him a warning look as you pull up to the window and he starts to say something.

“All I was going to say is that my parents asked about you the other day. They’re mad that you haven’t been by lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” You say as you hand Seokjin’s card to the kid in the window. “I haven’t had time to visit.”

“You visit Jimin’s grandma like twice a week.”

“Yeah, well, Granny Park and I are friends. Not to mention I still have to unseat her as the reigning go champion.” You don’t mention that you’re sneaking her mistledough and cookies so that she won’t blab about the fact that you’re in love with Seokjin. Or that every time you go to his parents’ house, they end up talking about weddings and asking when you’re getting married. You can’t deal with that, not when you factor in your feelings for their son.

“I’m just saying. You’re like a daughter to them. They miss you. I’m going by there after we get back from the cabin, and I think they’d like it if you tagged along.”

All you give him is a noncommittal grunt and several bags of fast food. You love his parents, you really do. You just wish they didn’t come with the constant reminder that Jin only sees you as a sister.

He lets you eat in silence, though, content to munch on your fries and pretend most of the morning never happened. He sings along to every song that plays on the radio, and it isn’t until you’re about thirty minutes away from the city and doing your best to navigate the roads in the worsening snow that you get suspicious.

“When you say you like sexual activity just fine-"

“I thought we dropped this!” He sends you a look that just says ‘really?’ and continues.

“I just want to know what you mean. Because obviously we’re on two different pages.”

“I mean that I like it just fine. I enjoy it, it’s fun, I would like to continue having it in the future. What of that is strange to you?”

“No, I just...I was under the impression that you weren’t interested in that. You never really talk about it, and you’ve never mentioned any...partners, or anything so…”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of every person I’ve ever slept with.” You glance over at him, astounded, and are shocked to see that his lips are pursed in a frown and his brows are drawn together. You resist the urge to reach out and smooth the lines on his face. “Wait, are you actually upset about this?”

“It’s just...I’ve told you about every person I’ve slept with.” You wince a little because he’s right. You’ve heard about every single one of his sexual encounters, some of them in great detail, and you do your best not to think about them. “If I had known that you were interested, then-”

“What? You would’ve set me up with one of your friends?”

“Who was the last person?”

“What?”

“Who was the last person you had sex with?”

You look at him again, a quick glance to try to figure out if he’s being serious or not. His face is hard, an emotion you can’t place clear in the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure there’s an actual blizzard starting around us, and you want to know who I fucked recently?”

“Yeah, I do. Fair’s fair, Pumpkin.” Something in his voice raises alarms in your head. You could insist that you don’t want to talk about it; he’d respect it if you were really serious, you know he would. There’s an edge to him right now, though, one you haven’t seen in a very long time, and you don’t like it. You want to smooth it out, sand it back into the gentle lilt you love.

“Fuck, Spice, I don’t know. That guy from the bar that one night?”

“What night? What bar?”

“I don’t fucking remember, okay? It was like...fuck, years ago, I don’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name or what bar it was. Are you happy now? For fuck’s sake, I didn’t think I had to report to you every time I wanted to get laid. You’re my best friend, not my keeper. I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch; between the sound of the heater going full blast and the Christmas carols he’s got blaring through your truck’s sound system, it’s hard to hear anything. Still, when you glance over at him again, something dark sits in his expression, and you’ve got a gut feeling it’s your fault.

Things remain tense even after you arrive at the cabin. Seokjin doesn’t wait for you to help him, just loads all of his stuff into his arms and wobbles his way inside while you’re still slinging your overnight bag over your shoulder. The door slams behind you as you enter, caught by the wind of the growing storm outside, and you send what you hope is an apologetic wave to where Taehyung and Star - his girlfriend of forever and one of your closest friends - sit in the den.

You immediately make your way to the kitchen, swiping a tin of cookies and making hot chocolate, all while ignoring the overly aggressive chopping your best friend is doing behind you. You’re sure Star and Tae aren’t surprised when you flee to the room that you’ve unofficially claimed over the years.

You stay there for most of the day. The door stays open, just in case someone actually wants to come talk to you; you have no doubt that everyone can hear you cursing at the dog show you’re watching, and at one point you’re pretty sure you hear Namjoon’s voice steer someone away, but you can’t be sure. You don’t even want to be sure. All you really want is to know what the fuck you did to piss your best friend off and get him back to normal.

You can’t just ask him, though, because he’ll no doubt get even angrier that you don’t already know, despite the fact that you have no way of knowing unless he actually tells you.

Frustrated, you pick up your phone and flip uselessly through the chat you have with him, trying to find literally any explanation for how he’s acting. The group chat with all the boys plus Star and Cat has been quiet most of the day, only the offhanded comment about someone leaving now or going to be a little late.

Your chat with just Cat and Star is almost as quiet. There’s a featured video of Seokjin blowing up at Jeongguk a bit too harshly considering the younger had just nabbed some kimchi before dinner, but that’s essentially it. You’re tempted to ask Star to get Seokjin to tell her what’s going on, but not only do you not want to drag her into whatever this is, you also know better. He wouldn’t tell her anything. She isn’t his best friend.

As much as you’re looking forward to the rest of the night, there’s a sense of dread deep in your bones when you eventually emerge from your room. You only do so because you’re out of hot chocolate and you know that you’ll be dinner if you’re late to eat.

You wave off Star’s curious look when she sees you; you don’t need her worrying about you, not when she’s got so much else to focus on, if the crutches leaned nearby are any indication. Hobi and Cat haven’t arrived yet, which only adds to the sinking feeling in your gut, but you brush it off. They would call if they had trouble. You know they would. Besides, Cat said they’d probably be leaving late.

Seokjin doesn’t even look at you as you pass him to get to the dining table, and that hurts more than you’d like to admit. The real sucker punch comes once you sit down, however, when you see a mug of hot cocoa with your signature candy cane placed just to the right of your plate, only to realize that Seokjin’s mug of special coffee he loves so much is placed at the other end of the table.

Away from you.

Air catches in your lungs, and it sounds silly that you’re tearing up over your best friend not sitting beside you, but he always sits beside you. Always. No matter what the two of you have been fighting about, he’s always sat beside you because he likes to laugh at the faces you make about the conversations going on, and he feeds you the best bits of meat while you act annoyed about it but secretly love it.

You knew Seokjin was upset, but you hadn’t realized he was this upset.

Jimin sits beside you and introduces you to his neighbor, but you don’t even catch her name, just that he keeps calling her Snow and she looks at him like he’s the meal and that there’s a massive purple bruise along Jimin’s neck that you have a sneaking suspicion is her handiwork. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t be bothered to place her, not when Seokjin is laughing about something Star is saying and looks entirely too at home down there.

On your other side, Namjoon and his roommate are talking about a science something or other that they’ve been working on. They’re both so invested in the conversation that neither notice Namjoon dumping the extra spicy sauce over his rice instead of the mild that he prefers. You can’t even bear to listen as he starts complaining to Seokjin that he made the food too spicy and the resulting tirade from the eldest.

If anyone notices your sour mood, they don’t say anything. It’s not surprising, when you think about it; you’ve long been established as the grump of the group, and you don’t expect that to change, even with the girl Jeongguk brought along that seems torn between whether she actually likes him or not.

Yoongi catches your eye at one point and you just cock a brow at him.

“Where’s Jisoo?” You mouth at him across the table. He looks to Peaches, the girlfriend of his that you’ve only ever met once in passing, and looks back at you. You way your eyebrows at him halfheartedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes. It’s disappointing that Jisoo isn’t here. She always provides some sort of entertainment.

If nothing else, she usually provides some semblance of distraction.

By the time dinner ends, you’re fairly positive no one knows about your spat with Seokjin, or the strange tension between the two of you. You’re sure no one noticed how you didn’t eat much of anything; everyone was too wrapped up in their own conversations and relationships to pay much attention to little old you.

You really should know better by now.

Jimin doesn’t move from his spot beside you, even as the others begin gathering dishes and your best friend disappears into the kitchen with the promise of cookies and chocolate-covered treats in an hour or two. Snow disappears, no doubt after a silent conversation between her and Jimin, and you roll your eyes at how he watches her disappear into the room they’ve claimed.

The two of you sit in silence; it’s a game of wits, almost. You know he knows something is up, but you also know that he knows you aren’t one to just offer up your thoughts. But he knows that you know that, and he knows you know he isn’t going to let it go because he can tell something is actually bothering you this time.

“So are we going to talk about why Seokjin has been so pissy all day and how there’s been a notable lack of Pumpkin by his side, or are we going to continue to pretend that everything’s fine like we did through dinner?”

You wish you were better able to resist him. Maybe your time with his grandmother has weakened you to him, and maybe you should work on being less transparent with him, but either way, you slump in your chair and set your empty mug of hot chocolate down with a thump. You still send him a glare that he smiles through and make a mental note to tell Granny Park that there’s a reason for his sudden need for scarves that she should ask him about.

“We had a fight.” You eventually grumble, eyes darting to where Seokjin stands over in the kitchen, dipping marshmallows, pretzels, and other treats into melted chocolate. “I think.”

“You think?”

It doesn’t take very long for you to recount the day’s events to him. You even tell him about The Incident from that morning that you walked in on, because once you start talking you can’t seem to stop until he knows it all.

“And now he’s pissed, I think at me, but I can’t figure out why. I mean, it wasn’t any of his business, but you know how I am with him, so it’s not like I could just not tell him, but I don’t understand why it pissed him off.” You huff a little. The frustration with everything that rolls in your stomach collides with the hurt you feel over Seokjin snubbing you, and it’s so distracting that you almost miss Jimin’s careful whisper of your name.

“Have you ever considered just asking him?” Jimin says softly. “I’m pretty sure having an actual conversation with him would fix this whole thing.”

“But…” You hesitate, twisting a stray thread from your sweater between your fingers. “Jimin, what if he hates me?”

There’s a vulnerability to your voice that you hate, one that only Seokjin, Jimin, and Granny Park have ever seen. It’s rare, mostly because you hate feeling vulnerable, but it makes Jimin’s eyes soften ever so slightly even as he bursts into a fit of giggles so powerful that he almost falls out of his chair.

“This is not helping!” You hiss, shooting a look at where Seokjin is rolling out chocolate chip cookie dough. He doesn’t look up at Jimin’s outburst, but his lips twitch ever so slightly into a frown and the crease between his brows deepens.

You know that look, too well. It’s his ‘I Do Not Care Even Though I Actually Do But I Don’t Want You To Know I Care” look. You saw it frequently when he first went off to college, when he was constantly worrying about all the boys he left behind in that little cul-de-sac. You really hoped it wouldn’t ever come back.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says eventually, wiping a tear away from one eye. “I really am, I promise, I’m just. Oh, I think I might lose a bet.”

“What? How is that helpful, Jimin? Y’know what, where’s that dumb dog thing Yoongi made you, I need to smush its face until I feel better--”

“What you need,” Jimin says as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to sit you back down in your chair, “Is to stop abusing my lovingly crafted plushies and actually talk to Seokjin.”

“I can’t tell him how I feel, you know this Chim-”

“Did I say confess?” Jimin asks as he stands, eyes flickering to where his neighbor-slash-girlfriend(?) is in their room. “Just talk to him. I mean really talk to him, okay, about why he’s upset. I think you’ll be surprised.”

Jimin doesn’t give you a chance to protest; he’s gone and disappeared down the hallway before you can blink, and you don’t want to know what’s happening in that room.

Eventually you meander over to where Seokjin is sliding cookies out of the oven, each perfectly placed to allow for the perfect bake. You putter around for a minute or two, opening and closing cabinet doors at random. You aren’t finding anything interesting, certainly not the strength to have this conversation, which is why you’re startled when someone says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

You turn, and Seokjin is absently stirring leftover melted chocolate. When you fail to move, too busy staring at him in confusion, he turns and points to a cabinet beside you. “The cocoa,” He says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

“Thanks,” You mumble as you move toward it. Inside is a box of candy canes and a weathered tin that you recognize from Seokjin’s apartment. Its twin sits in the bakery, right beside the register so that it’s close at hand for when you inevitably come thundering in with a storm cloud above your head. Each holds the special cocoa recipe that Seokjin learned from his grandfather, who learned it from his grandfather.

You chance a glance at your best friend; he knows how much you love that cocoa. The people in this cabin right now are the only people he’ll make it for - save for Hoseok and Cat, who still haven’t arrived. Seokjin’s ears are burning red, and a weaker person - or at least one less accustomed to him - may have cooed at the sight. But you’ve spent too long building up the walls so that he’ll never find out just what you keep tucked away in your heart.

“I’m-”

“Sorry.” He finishes for you. “I know you are. And...I forgive you.” You nod at his words; you couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what had actually upset him, but you’re glad he’s forgiven you for it. Still, it nags at you, because what if it happens again? Unlikely, considering you haven’t been able to get laid in actual years because you’re too smitten with the man standing across from you, but still.

“Are you going to tell me why you were upset, or are you just going to play with chocolate all night?” You eventually ask. He sighs, heavy and long, and turn to lean back on the counter beside you. He’s wearing his ridiculous alpaca apron that you got him for his birthday, and that only makes him more beautiful as he considers what he wants to say.

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost feels like he’s close enough to touch, but you just can’t seem to let your hand reach out to do so. You think if you could, you might be able to grab him and hold on forever, but something deep in your gut stills you.

The fear of losing him, of losing everything that you have with him right now - late nights at the bakery, shopping for birthday presents, the quiet moments in a chaotic world where you find peace in each other. As much as it hurts to love him, as hard as it is to speak around the words that strangle in your throat that speak truth to every feeling you’ve ever locked in the recesses of your heart, you can’t risk telling him. Because this pining and loving and eventually watching him grow old with someone he loves?

That’s enough for you.

“I just got jealous, I suppose,” Seokjin eventually says. “I always thought that you weren’t interested in sex, y’know? You mentioned it once in college that you’d tried it, but your little half-frown was there, so I knew you didn’t like it, because you get the same one every time you eat gingerbread because you hate it but you don’t want me to get disappointed that you aren’t eating the houses I make. I just thought it wasn’t something you wanted in life.”

“Um.”

“Which is obviously fine, sex isn’t for everyone, asexual people exist and are valid, as are those that are sex-repulsed, y’know? And I decided a long time ago when I first looked into it all that I didn’t care about sex in a relationship. That’s not the important thing to being partners with someone. But apparently sex is a thing for you, and I just wish I had known that because all this time I could’ve-”

“What, set me up with your friends?”

“No, definitely not. It’s just that we...I could have...it just hurts to know that you’ll have sex with other people but not with me, even though I respect that it’s your decision to make.”

“What.”

“But I just...I know I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I can’t lie, I would really appreciate one if you can give it. I mean...I dunno, I know that I had sex with other people, but we had that whole conversation in college about it, and you seemed alright with it, so I did. And I always told you about them, because communication and openness is important, and I wanted you to know that I was respecting your boundaries with that while also satisfying my own needs. But it really did feel weird, because...y’know, so I stopped. And I guess I assumed that if you weren’t fucking me, you weren’t fucking anyone.”

“What.”

“I just really care about you, Pumpkin, and I know I know don’t really say it a lot because I’m more of a ‘showing it’ kind of guy, but...I just would have appreciated knowing that. Especially since I’ve always been more than willing to love you like that.”

“Spice,” You say slowly, being careful to keep your face blank. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Seokjin blinks at you owlishly. “What do you mean ‘what am I talking about,’ I thought I was pretty clear. I mean...yeah, I’d love it if you would have sex with me, but that’s your decision, and I’m curious as to your reasoning and logic. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, which is why I forgave you, because as much as it stings, it’s your choice. And I love you, as you know, so-”

“How would I possibly know that?” Your voice catches a little on the words, probably because you’re having a little trouble actually breathing. Everything is fuzzy and the words ‘I’d love it if you would have sex with me’ and ‘I love you’ are playing on a loop in your brain. Your entire world has just shifted on its axis, and yet Seokjin looks completely unbothered.

“Maybe because I’ve put up with you so long?” He teases with a fond smile. “I mean, I know we aren’t the type to say the words very often, but c’mon Pumpkin. We’ve been dating since you were twelve, not many would last that long without even a kiss.”

“We haven’t been together since I was twelve, though.” He raises a brow at your confused tone.

“Okay, thirteen, then.” He says. The confusion on your face must be apparent, because it begins to bleed into his, the beautiful features morphing to mirror your own.

“Seokjin, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t dating.”

His expression only gets more confused.

“Uh, yes we are?”

“Uh, no we aren’t? When the fuck did that happen?”

“When you were twelve, as I said. I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I feel like I would have remembered that happening.”

“Then you should go to a doctor, because it definitely did. It was the best day of my life. We were sitting on the playground, it was recess, you were upset.”

“I remember none of that.”

“You cannot possibly have forgotten this!” Seokjin exclaims. “I cheered you up and offered you my cookie, which you ate in like two bites even though I had made it with salt instead of sugar and it had to be disgusting, because some girl had knocked your cupcake into the dirt-”

“Park Sooyoung, that bitch, I remember that-”

“And then,” Seokjin continues, ignoring your outburst, “I was so deeply honored that you ate that disgusting thing that I offered you the equal honor of being my girlfriend. And you nodded and I kissed your cheek and then you punched me in the arm - which hurt, I might add, for days - and then I watched you play Pokemon Sapphire on your Gameboy Advance.”

The memory rushes in, though not exactly how he remembers it. Park Sooyoung had knocked your cupcake out of your hands and into the dirt, and you had been so mad about it that you’d started to cry. Seokjin found you, curled under a tree away from everyone else, and when he eventually learned what upset you, he’d told Sooyoung off like no one had ever seen. And then he’d handed you the best cookie you’ve ever eaten.

You think maybe that was when you first started falling for Seokjin. With the salty cookie that masked the taste of your own tears, and the angry tirade he had gone on despite the two of you not having known each other for very long, with the wide smile and squeaky laugh and ears so red and cute that you couldn’t focus on whatever he was saying and just nodded along to it.

“Well...why didn’t you say anything since then?” A thought crosses your mind, and it so horror-filled that you have to ask. “Do the guys know?”

“If they do, it’s not because I told them,” Seokjin answers easily. “When you introduced yourself as my friend, I figured you were just a very private person and didn’t want to rub it in their faces or something.”

“Is that why you always drag me along when you, Hobi, Tae, Cat, and Star go out for karaoke?”

“Obviously,” He scoffs. “What could be better than a triple date with your two best friends?”

“Literally anything! Hobi and Cat sing each other the most raunchy things I’ve ever heard, and Tae does all those weepy ballads or indie songs nobody recognizes, and Star’s got those dopey love eyes all night, it’s revolting.”

“You mean like those faces you make at me when you think I won’t notice?”

“I-” You huff, at a loss. “Well what about the other day, with that girl at Mistledough you were flirting with, who was flirting back and-” Realization hits you. “And she’s Jimin’s neighbor girlfriend lady!”

“Pumpkin. Are you serious right now?” He gives you a dry look, but there’s amusement written all over it. “You’ve heard my sales pitch a hundred times. You’ve given my sales pitch a hundred times, albeit with a little more of a monotone and general ‘I’ll kill you’ vibe to it. It was just so she’d buy all the treats I could possibly sell her.”

You make a small ‘hmph’ noise that you aren’t exactly proud of, but makes Seokjin laugh. He pulls you into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you there. It’s a little awkward, because your arms are still crossed over your chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind and despite all the muttered complaints you give him, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“So…” Jin says in a too-casual tone after a few minutes. You muffle a groan into his chest, already preparing for the worst. “What kind of sex are you into?”

“Oh my god,” You mumble.

“Wait, you’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He clears his throat and stands to his full height. When he looks at you again, his eyes are full of something you can’t place exactly, but it makes your heart skip nonetheless when he says your full name. “Will you do me the honor of officially becoming my girlfriend? Again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and nod. The grin takes over his face is blinding, worth all the trouble from the day, as is the soft kiss he presses to your cheek. You can’t help but huff when he pulls away from it, even, and he raises an amused brow at it.

“Does this mean I can finally kiss you the way I’ve been dreaming of forever?”

You do roll your eyes this time, but you let your fingers dance over his jaw and pull him into a gentle kiss. His lips are softer than they look, which you truly didn’t think was possible, and the way they mold and move with yours is warm and tender. You don’t even know how long you spend kissing Seokjin. Time isn’t real, not now, not with him pulling you closer and pressing warm against you like every single daydream you’ve let yourself have.

Years of repressed urges and desire come out before you can stop them, though. Your hands move down to rest on Seokjin’s impossibly tiny waist, slipping behind his apron to tease at the waistband of his slacks. Why he insists everyone wear nice clothes to dinner, you couldn’t possibly say, but they make his ass look phenomenal so you never complain.

The kisses become more heated, his tongue dipping out to taste your lips for a moment. Hands find their way to your ass and palm it greedily, and he tugs you flush against him. A hard length is pressing into you, and you don’t have to guess to know it's not the rolling pin.

Images - memories - flash through your mind of that morning. Your mouth waters and you pull back from Seokjin. Panting, lips swollen from kisses, and half-lidded eyes, he's never looked better.

"Can I suck your dick?"

He groans low in his throat and his eyes fall closed. "Fuck, Pumpkin, right here? Anyone could walk by." You drop to your knees as your hands undo the clasp on the pants.

"Doubtful, they're probably having that post-dinner nap, or playing some game." Anxiety pools in your gut; you know quite a bit about what Seokjin likes in bed, but you've never been sure if exhibitionism is on that list. "Does it make you uncomfortable? I don't have to. I've just been thinking about it all day."

Seokjin barks out a quick laugh and shakes his head. "No," He says, "I definitely would love for you to suck my dick in this kitchen if you want to."

"Good." You flip his apron to the side and tug his cock out of its confines. You don't bother dropping his pants all the way; there's no time, you're too impatient. "Let me know if anyone shows up."

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off by a sharp intake of breath as you warp your lips around the head of him. One of his hands moves to grip the counter behind him and the other rests lightly on your crown; he doesn't pull or tug, just keeps his hand as a gentle pressure as you sink him deeper into your mouth.

As much as you've never been one for sucking dick, you're in heaven. There's no other explanation for why it feels this good to have him sitting heavy against your tongue as he hits the back of your throat. There are still two inches left so you wrap your hand around it and hollow your cheeks as you pull back.

A strangled moan escapes him, and his fingers tighten ever so slightly in your hair. Heat floods to your core and you kick yourself internally because you could have been doing this for years. Your tongue darts out to slide teasingly along the underside of his cock and he reflexively thrusts into your mouth.

You cough a little and pull back, wiping spit from your lips as you catch your breath, and Seokjin is already spewing apologies.

“I’m fine,” You say as you sit back against the cabinet, tugging him to stand in front of you. His back is to most of the kitchen and your head rests against the hard wood behind you while you eye the hard wood in front of you. “I can take a little bit of roughness, Spice, don’t worry.”

He looks hesitant so you ghost your fingers along his length to tease him. His jaw clenches at the same time his eyes close and you resist the urge to smile. Tension bleeds out of his shoulders and when he opens his eyes again, he quirks a brow in a silent question and you nod.

In seconds, he’s in your throat once more, thrusting himself in and out at a slow pace that makes you clench with the desire to feel it elsewhere. You hollow your cheeks and suck properly as he fucks your throat, and he muffles another moan.

“Fuck, Pumpkin, please don’t stop,” Seokjin whines quietly. You smile, just a little, and take him back into your throat for a few seconds before pulling back and repeating the process. Each time he hits the back of your throat, he lets out a muffled groan that only makes you wetter. His cock is thick and your jaw aches and you’re struggling to breathe just a little bit, but the fucked out expression on his face is more than worth it.

Something clatters in the hallway and you freeze, Seokjin’s cock sheathed to the hilt in your throat. His ears turn red and he starts to pull back, but you stop him with a hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, surprised, and you chance a wink that makes him chuckle.

Footsteps make their way past, giggles following close behind, and you hear the door leading to the hot tub open and close. After a few seconds of silence, Seokjin relaxes, pulling out of your throat. You take a few deep breaths and glance over to the door, curious.

“Jimin and Snow,” He tells you, one hand absently stroking along your cheek. “We probably shouldn’t use the hot tub tonight.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why would I want to anyway? Have you heard Namjoon’s lecture on what could potentially grow in a hot tub if it isn’t sanitized regularly? It’s not a fun lecture.” Seokjin laughs, squeaky and adorable, and helps you to your feet. He doesn’t hesitate to pepper kisses along your cheeks, and you wrinkle your nose even as tilt your head so he can get the places he missed.

“Now when you said that you can handle a little roughness…” Seokjin says, voice a soft murmur in your ear. You make a small hum of affirmation, encouraging him to continue. “Does that mean I can spank you for not finishing blowing me, or is that something you’d rather not do?”

“Fuck, Seokjin,” You hiss, rubbing your thighs together. “Now you have to do it.”

He’s got you turned around in an instant, your fancy dress pants on the ground a few seconds later. His hands mold to your ass, cupping the flesh briefly through your underwear before letting his hands fall away.

It’s methodical and slow and torturous, how he peels away that last layer keeping him from your wetness. You know that the fabric is soaked through, it has been since you first got his dick in your mouth, and Seokjin groans at the sight.

“Even better than I imagined,” He mutters. Your cheeks heat in a rare blush, and you drop your head down between where your forearms are braced against the countertop. His hand smacks against your ass, lightly, and you choke back a laugh. Is that really what he thinks a spank is?

Another slap hits you, no real force behind it, and you scoff under your breath.

“What?” Seokjin asks. When you look back at him, he’s expectant, like he knows what you’re about to say.

“Is that what you call a slap?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back for another. It already looks unsatisfying, and you can’t help but push him a little further. “I always wondered why your dough doesn’t rise high enough. Guess I know now.”

His eyes darken and a chill comes over you.

“Oh, is that how this is gonna be?” He asks. He gestures for you to face forward again and you do, curious as to the dark look in his eyes.

Something hard and cold smacks into your ass, and you yelp in surprise. There’s a little more force behind it, enough to sting pleasantly but not enough to hurt.

“Is that better, Pumpkin?” He asks. There’s a mocking tone to his voice, but when you look back, you can see the slant of his lips and tension in his jaw that shows he’s concerned. The rolling pin from earlier rests in his hands, and it flares something in your gut.

“Much,” You tell him as you turn back around. He spanks you with it again, and again, and again, and it isn’t until you feel something wet drip down the back of your leg that you remember the chocolate he was fucking around with earlier.

“If you get that on my nice clothes, I will destroy you,” You warn him. He laughs a little and there’s a thump as the rolling pin hits the countertop.

“Is that code for get me naked?” He asks, a laugh in his voice.

“No, that’s code for lick it up and then fuck my brains out.”

The laugh in his throat quickly becomes a growl and he sets to work doing just that. His tongue runs over your skin, gently lapping at the chocolate there, and several times he gets distracted leaving purple marks in his wake. He even slides tongue along your slit, long and thorough and quick, and you almost come just from the obscene moan he lets out.

"Fuck, please, I need you," You gasp out. Seokjin slides a hand under your shirt, massaging the muscles in your back as he does, and stands to his full height.

"Let me know if it hurts," He says softly. His voice is a whisper against your ear and it's never sounded quite so wrecked or beautiful. "I'll stop, okay?"

"If you don't get inside me in the next five seconds, I will go ask Jimin and Snow if I can join them in their kinky hot tub," you growl.

He curses quietly and thrusts his length inside you. Neither of you are quite prepared for what it feels like, and the moment he gets buried to the hilt, he stills.

"Shit, Pumpkin, I'm not gonna last long," He mutters. You can't even manage words. The stretch is absolutely blissful, just on the right side of painful when paired with the sting of your still-tender ass. He's the perfect height for this, too; perfectly lined up without either of you having to try very hard.

He pulls almost entirely out, leaving just the dusty pink head you remember inside. There's not even a chance to whine at the loss, because before you know it, he's slamming back in.

Seokjin's pace is erratic and harried; there's no smooth strokes here. You're both in too much of a rush, too drunk on the pleasure to want anything but release.

Hands move along your skin, one lifting your shirt so he can pepper kisses along your spine while the other reaches down to gently tweak your clit.

It takes three swipes of his finger to have your knees shaking with the power of your orgasm. You clench around him and he stills. You can't think, your brain is absolutely fried at this point; all you know is the feeling of him inside you and the disappointing emptiness when he pulls out.

Warmth hits your back and Seokjin's moans echo in your ears. You're almost afraid to turn around, afraid this is some hyper-realistic dream.

"Shit, hold on, let me clean this up," he says, panting. You can hear him moving through the kitchen and when he comes back, something cold and wet slides along your back.

You wait patiently as he cleans you up. He wipes away every instance of cum and chocolate from your skin - though he looks a little disappointed to be doing so, which you file away for later.

"God, that's so much fucking cum," You say, wrinkling your nose at the mass of wet wipes he tosses in the trash while you fasten your pants once more.

It's just in time, too, as Jimin and Snow come in from the hot tub, smiling and giggly with each other.

"Ah," Jimin says, looking between you and Seokjin. "I did lose a bet. Damn, she's gonna be so pleased with herself."

You glare at him, but there's no real heat behind it. The two of them disappear to get dressed in actual clothes, and you and Seokjin set to work plating the cookies and treats he'd made.

You can't stop the fond look at the rolling pin every few minutes.

Later, after you discover Cat and Hobi have arrived safely and you make sure they actually eat the plates set aside for them, you're on the hunt for Seokjin. He's disappeared somewhere and it's almost time for the countdown.

You finally find him - where else - in the kitchen, making a horrified face at Namjoon.

"What? It was good," Namjoon says with a frown. Seokjin just waves him off and Namjoon shrugs, grabbing a couple glasses of champagne and heading back to Slick.

You sidle up to him as close as you can get and he wraps an arm around your waist like it's second nature. It's surreal, that the man you love is pressing a kiss to your temple and handing you a mug of cocoa.

"I'm glad we talked," He says eventually. You hum your agreement; you aren't looking at him, just staring down into your cocoa as you absently stir it with a candy cane, but you do lean into him ever so slightly. "Remind me to bake Jimin a cake."

"Why? What's he done to deserve a cake?"

"He helped me out earlier, while I was cooking dinner. Helped me figure out how to say what I needed to, that sort of thing."

Your face shoots up as your heart clenches in your chest. "Jimin," You echo. "Jimin is why you decided to talk about your feelings." Seokjin just nods, eyes wide and not understanding why you have murder in your eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him so hard-" You say, already setting your mug down and turning to go find that short gremlin and skin him alive. You don't get two steps before a hand comes to rest on your shoulder, heavy but gentle.

Seokjin pulls you closer to him, a smile playing on his lips as he does. "Why would you want to kill Jimin for that, Pumpkin?"

"Because!" You exclaim. "Jimin's the only one that knows that I-"

The words tangle in your throat, cloying together into a ball you can't seem to unwind. You're too used to choking it down. You don't know how to say it.

"That you love me?" Seokjin finishes. You can't bear to look at him, huffing slightly as you turn to stare out the kitchen window at the snow-covered trees beyond.

Seokjin's hand glides down your arm to wrap around your own, tangling his fingers with yours. With a grace you tend to forget he has, he brings them both upwards until he can press a soft kiss in the center of your palm.

"Jimin isn't the only one that knows that, Pumpkin," He says quietly. You can feel your ears burning, a pleasant contrast from how it's usually him embarrassed and red.

"Whatever," you grumble, giving up on your mission to brutally murder one of your best friends. Seokjin laughs, loud and squeaky and wonderful, and pulls you into another hug.

"I love you too," He whispers. "Now, let's go join the others. I believe you owe me several years of kisses."

"You wish," You mutter half-heartedly. He hands you your cocoa and pats your still-sore ass with a wink.

"That's a great move."

"Really?"

"Yes." There's a pause as she waits for you to remove your fingers from the piece. "If you want to lose."

You offer her a weak glare that she ignores as she studies the board.

"I'm glad that you and Seokjinnie finally got things figured out. It was very cute to watch, but it was getting a little ridiculous, you know."

She moves a piece, and you squint to try to help you figure out her strategy.

"Right, it had nothing to do with your bet with Jimin," You say sarcastically as you move another piece. You eye her, one finger still remaining on it, to try to figure out if it's what she expected.

"Of course not," She says as you remove your hand. "That was merely a bonus." She immediately lays a piece, gaining even more of an advantage than she already had.

"Well then," You start as you lay another piece, "I'm sure you know all about Jimin and his neighbor, and Star and Tae I don't need to tell you anything about Yoongi or Cat or Jeongguk, either, probably."

Her fingers hesitate over the piece she's picking up, and her eyes narrow at you.

"Ah, don't be so cruel. You're supposed to respect your elders, you know."

"Alright, Granny Park," You say with a rare grin as you glance to where Seokjin is baking a ‘sorry we fucked in your kitchen’ cake and decoration some sugar-free cookies for her. "What exactly do you want to know?

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